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realcube · 3 years ago

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OVERHEARING SOMEONE TALK ABOUT THEIR S/O

characters ♡ baji, mikey & mitsuya

tw ♡ insults (in reference to the reader), violence & robbery

KEISUKE BAJI

♡ baji never mentioned that he was dating you to anyone in toman

♡ in fact, he hoped that none of them even knew about your existence, because that would only lead to trouble; and he was correct

♡ he was simply taking a puff on his stationary motorcycle, when members of the division started to filter into the parking lot that he was currently trying to relax in

♡ usually he’d try to ward off strangers so he could enjoy his time alone but he knew these guys from toman, so he allowed them to stay as long as they’d keep their voices down and not bother him

♡ most of his attention was on his own thoughts, but it was immediately redirected when he heard your name brought up in their conversation

♡ only your last name, so he wasn’t even certain whether they were talking about you, but still his interest was piqued

♡ “they are on shift friday night, the only one left at eleven,” one of the guys explained, gesturing to his bat with a wicked smirk, “we’ll break in then. i’ll drive getaway.”

♡ “what if they call someone? shouldn’t we wait until they’ve left?” another suggested but was quickly corrected.

♡ “once they lock up the security system activates and it’ll be impossible to get in without alerting the cops. so we may as well bust in, handle them, and then steal the bikes.”

♡ baji cringed, since he was certain that they were talking about you —since you happen to work at a motorcycle shop on friday nights — he hated to think about what they meant by ‘handle’.

♡ “now stop askin’ stupid questions.” the same guy scoffed, twirling around his bat, “i used to work there, idiot, obviously i know what i’m doing.”

♡ the group of six all laughed at the one poor guy who asked the question, and baji did too

♡ he laughed at the irony behind how they were calling each other idiots, when they were all the ones talking about auto theft in broad daylight, and discussing doing unspeakable things to a person, when their boyfriend was standing in ear-shot with a bat and a motorcycle ready

♡ he did give them the benefit of the doubt in the latter aspect though; how were they supposed to know that y’all were dating when you are never seen spending time with each other?

♡ baji suddenly felt bad; it dawned on him that perhaps he had been neglecting your relationship as of recently. of course, it wasn’t with poor intention, in fact he thought he was taking the moral course of action by avoiding a situation where you are harmed because of his ties with toman

♡ however, being in a gang was no excuse to be a bad boyfriend, he figured

♡ for now, the least he could do was take care of these guys to save you the trouble

♡ but perhaps that wasn’t his brightest idea, he realised as he stood amongst the dejected bodies scattered across the ground, “i know you are all alive, so consider this a warning.” baji chuckled at the grunt one produced as he kicked him aside to head back over to his motorcycle

♡ before he left the area, obviously he stole all the cash he could from those guys, which gave him enough to buy the thing he had been eyeing for you

♡ though it took him a while to get his hands on it, it left him with the perfect opportunity to give it to you

♡ “oi, open up!” baji hollered as he pounded on your door; if baji wasn’t such a bruiser, you would’ve thought he was dying

♡ “what!?” you hissed, throwing the door open to reveal your frantic state.

♡ you were half angry at how loud he was being, and the other half at how he has been ignoring you for the past two weeks and finally decides to show up just as you were about to leave for work, in fact, you were running late for your night shift

♡ “no need to rush.” baji said, an odd sense of sincerity in his voice as he motioned for you to stop putting your shoes on, “you’re not going to work today.”

♡ you simply laughed, ignoring him and gathering your stuff to leave, “and why is that?”

♡ “well,” baji started, rubbing his chin for effect, “these guys from toman plan on robbing the place tonight. i did give them a warning, but they might still do it. and you know i just want you to be safe.” he said with a mischievous grin, as you both knew there was no way your shop was getting robbed tonight, unless the dudes wanted to try it with both arms broken

♡ “so did you just come here to tell me that, or is there something else?” although you tried to hide it, baji could tell by your subtle flustered expression that you were thankful

♡ “i found this.” he lied, cupping your hand to lift it and drop in a gold bracelet, “one of the guys had it on him.”

♡ you gasped, taking the bracelet to examine the fine details, and noticed how it had a small crystal heart attached, “yeah, i’m sure a member of toman just so happened to be wearing a charm bracelet.”

♡ “i never said he was wearing it!” baji spat, swiftly snatching it from your hand and holding it above his head, “i can pawn it if you don’t want it.”

♡ “i like it, though!” you said, reaching up for it, only for him to grab your wrist and put it on you

♡ “then forgive me for not hanging with you.” he muttered, angrily clipping the bracelet through furrowed brows, while you leaned in to plant a kiss on his forehead

♡ “it’s fine. i forgive you.” you couldn’t help but snicker at his word choice of ‘hanging out’, which resulted in you getting a swift flick to the forehead

♡ but before you could whine, he quickly followed it up with a kiss <33

MIKEY

♡ one day he was visiting mizo to find takemichi and he happened to walk passed a group of guys talking about how one of them planned on asking out a person from a different school

♡ at first he didn’t pay much attention since it was none of his business after all, until he heard that the person’s name and description just so happened to match yours

♡ so like any good boyfriend would, he halted and told draken to grab takemichi while he listened in

♡ as he gained more insight into the situation, he learned that the person happened to go to the same academy as you and had the same bus schedule too

♡ it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the person they were talking about was you

♡ as it turns out, the guy who planned on asking you out had your bus times memorised so if he was able to run fast enough, he would be able to reach your stop before you got on the bus, which is when he will ask you out

♡ or at least, that is what he hoped would happen if everything went smoothly and there was no unexpected interference from a group of delinquents

♡ mikey had many options on how to deal with this situation

♡ he could ask you to take a different bus, he could do nothing (because he trusted that you’d reject the guy either way) or he could beat them up right now to save himself the hassle later

♡ however, he decided to go with a more peaceful approach

♡ he continued eaves-dropping until everyone besides the lover boy had left, so he could have an amicable one-on-one conversation with him — definitely no threats involved — and advise the guy to stay in his fucking lane and never go near you ever again, kindly.

♡ when the day of the proposal arrived, mikey paid you a surprise visit after school and offered to walk you to the bus-stop; not because he was afraid that the dude might confess, but rather since he had booked you both tickets to the movies!

♡ but once you both arrive at the stop, you were greeted by the guy standing there holding a measly bouquet of flowers, looking quite taken back by the fact you were with someone else; even though mikey had done him the courtesy of explicitly telling him to back off

♡ though he must’ve not got message despite the hand-holding, and he obviously didn’t recognise mikey, otherwise he probably wouldn’t have continued to confess, albeit with quivering limbs and a black eye

♡ but before he could even stutter out a greeting, mikey hissed at him, “what the are you doing?” yet the guy only replied with a shrug

♡ upon observing the interaction, your eyes widen as you turned to look at mikey, “do you know him?”

♡ “never seen him before in my life, dear.” he smiled sweetly, but it was ineffective; you already knew he was lying as soon as he called you ‘dear’.

♡ “(y/n)!” the guy yelled, trying to catch your attention, but only shaking even more as your gaze fell on him, “i was going to ask you, if—”

♡ mikey let out an exaggerated yawn, widely outstretching his arms to distract both of you, “this has been fun, but we’re running late for the movie.”

♡ “but i’m not fin—” the poor boy was once again interrupted by mikey waving him goodbye, grabbing your hand and swiftly guiding you around him, back on the route to the cinema

♡ before he even got the chance to cry another plea, you had both already disappeared around the corner

♡ once mikey had dragged you both far enough away from the bus-stop, you began your interrogation, “seriously, who was that? and what was he trying to say? did you give him the black eye?” you had to stop to take a deep breath, “also, you said the movie would start in the evening!”

♡ mikey brought your hand up —which he had a tight grip on — and kissed the back of it gently, “my bad,” he chuckled slightly, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, “i forgot to mention him. i met him a few days ago and he was planning to ask you out so i politely informed him that you were taken.”

♡ “for some reason, i don’t believe that last part.”

♡ he snickered, “and yeah, the movie starts in the evening so we’re not running late. but he wasn’t taking the hint!” he whined while clinging to your arm, as if you were going to run away from him at any second, “forgive me?”

♡ “sure, whatever.” you sighed, rolling your eyes as you watched his expression light up, “but next time, mind your own business! i could’ve just said no, instead of you beating him up, or whatever you did.”

♡ “noted.”

MITSUYA TAKASHI

♡ during his time as the second division leader of toman, he’s overheard all kinds of stuff that he probably wasn’t supposed to; awkward small talk, plans to commit felonies, deep conversations, weed brownie recipes, discussions about health issues — the list goes on forever!

♡ however, one topic he has never heard any one ever have the audacity to speak about (within a ten mile radius of him), is you. even though, your relationship was public to toman.

♡ your name was often kept out of people’s mouth since you rarely interacted with any of the gang members when you visited, hence they didn’t really have anything bad (or good) to say about you. none of them knew you besides the title ‘boss’ partner’.

♡ so, that’s why mitsuya had to do a double take when he heard someone in his division mutter to the guy beside him, “why does his friend keep visitin’? it’s annoying. plus, they just sit and don’t talk to anyone besides ‘im. they must think they’re better than us or something.” right after mitsuya mentioned that you were visiting toman.

♡ he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow; did that guy really think that he was being sly and quiet? by the look on his face, he seemed pretty self-assured.

♡ “um, i heard you, idiot.” he hissed, pinching his nose and shaking his head as he watched the knucklehead stare at him dumbfounded, as if the whole room hadn’t heard him too.

♡ “don’t say shit like that. they don’t think they’re better than anyone.” he scorned, balling his fist and almost twitching with anger, fighting the urge to pummel that guy for the sake of his own reputation in toman

♡ and that impulse almost immediately dissipated as soon as you entered the room; his hand loosened and opened to cup your cheek

♡ he was as sweet as can be for the rest of the night, of course, and he still managed to send that dude daggers whenever he got the chance.

#baji x y/n #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers sano manjiro #mikey x reader #mitsuya x you #baji x reader #baji x you #baji fluff #mitsuya takashi x reader #mitsuya x y/n #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya fluff #mikey fluff #mikey x you #mikey x y/n

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yukidragon · 3 years ago

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Our Life Snippet - Lazy Morning Intimacy

So, who’s ready for an extra long serving of shameless fluff from the first draft of my fan novelization of Our Life: Beginnings & Always? My philosophy in writing this is if I can add some more fluffy cuddly moments, I absolutely will, and the Step 3 moment Reflection offers one such opportunity right at the very start before, well, those of you who have played this moment know what happens later.

Spoilers for those who have not played the Step 3 DLC! If you don’t want to be spoiled, don’t read any further! If you don’t mind spoilery stuff, well, don’t let me stop you, but I highly, highly encourage you to play through the game before reading any of this.

As always, thanks go to @gb-patch for their wonderful game and their lovely feedback for my work, as well as everyone who likes, reblogs, and comments on these clips I’m posting here. You are all awesome. 💖

...

It wasn’t often that Jamie had the chance to enjoy breakfast at the Holden house. Ever since their parents decreed that they were ‘too old’ for sleepovers, she and Cove didn’t have many opportunities to enjoy that particular meal together, which made today a rare treat. It wasn’t especially fancy fare, but it was lovely to be able to spend time with her boyfriend almost as soon as she woke up. She was glad she impulsively asked if he wanted to have breakfast with her when they exchanged their usual good morning texts.

After a pleasant meal filled with light conversation and tasty food, Cove invited Jamie to retreat to his room to relax and let the lazy morning linger before any big activities began. That was, if they didn’t just decide to take it easy for the rest of the day. Neither of them had any plans in particular, with no prior commitments with friends, family, or work to distract them from just spending the day together. It wasn’t officially a date day, per say, or at least neither of them called it that yet. So far, they just decided to do whatever came to mind while enjoying each other’s company.

Of course, the first thing that came to Jamie’s mind was to cuddle with her boyfriend. When Cove sat down onto the bed, she didn’t hesitate to take a seat beside him, leaning into him. He hummed happily in approval and looped an arm around her to pull her in even closer.

A mischievous smile tugged at her lips as a new thought came to mind, and Jamie leaned in even closer. Cove raised an eyebrow at expression, only to yelp when she unexpectedly pushed her weight into him and tipped him back onto the bed. She fell along with him, giggling as they tumbled onto the mattress

Cove let out a chuckle of his own once he recovered from his surprise. “When I said we could relax, I didn’t mean going back to bed,” he said with a wry smile. Even still, he allowed her to nudge him gently back to the headboard so that they could both lounge comfortably on the bed properly with their heads resting on the pillows side by side.

Jamie flashed Cove a satisfied grin before she snuggled up against his side, nuzzling her cheek against his as she basked in his gentle warmth. “You also said to make myself comfortable,” she teased, her eyes sparkling playfully as she rested her arm across his chest. “I’m very comfortable like this.”

Cove felt his heartbeat quicken, and he smiled back fondly at Jamie, nuzzling her cheek in return. “Me too,” he said softly.

Though maybe he was a little too comfortable.

Cove couldn’t help but be aware of the fact that they were both lying in his bed together. A prickling of nerves rose up that he quickly did his best to tamp down to not ruin the intimate moment they were sharing. It was fine, no big deal, he told himself. They were both fully dressed, on top of the sheets, and it was broad daylight. They cuddled plenty of times like this before on sofas and the ground. Heck, this was nothing compared to when they shared a bed when they were younger.

The flickering of nervousness didn’t escape Jamie’s notice. She softened her expression and reached up to gently run her fingers through her shy boyfriend’s hair. She had intended to steal a kiss or two and see where that would take them, but she decided that could wait until later. Just enjoying this moment with Cove was enough for her.

The touch was soothing, and Cove slowly started to relax as he leaned into Jamie. The anxious air that had threatened to pull him out of the moment gradually dissipated as her comforting warmth slowly settled in. Soon, he felt at ease enough to slip his arm back around her, which she happily used as her new pillow. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing the content expression on his partner’s face as she smiled softly back at him.

A comfortable silence washed over the pair as they simply enjoyed the quiet moment of intimacy. At some point, Jamie went from stroking Cove’s hair to toying with it. His ponytail limited her in how much she could card her fingers through his hair, but there were plenty of long locks to ripple between her fingers.

It wasn’t the first time Jamie got the impulse to play with her boyfriend’s hair. Even before he was officially - or even unofficially - her boyfriend, she couldn’t help but want to run her fingers through those pretty pale green strands. When they were younger, Cove would jokingly try to avoid her hands, but always ‘failed’ to escape in the end, allowing her to have her way. Sometimes she teased him back by pretending to give up, and he would always pout adorably, which she would immediately chase away with a satisfying ruffle of his hair.

Occasionally, Jamie would go beyond playing to actual styling. She was no professional, but it was fun to wind her boyfriend’s hair into a braid or two sometimes. Cove never minded, even if the braids rarely lasted that long after she was finished making them. It also didn’t escape her notice that he would sometimes shiver or let out an adorable pleasured little mumble when she raked her fingers along his scalp. It was an enjoyable experience for both of them, and sometimes she suspected that was one of the reasons why he let his hair grow as long as he did.

Jamie had no such grand designs now. Today she simply basked in the freedom to enjoy the feeling of his soft hair sliding between her fingers as she listened to the happy noises her partner occasionally let slip.

Although much more at ease, Cove couldn’t help the small traces of nervous energy that left him with the need to do something with his hands. He ran his thumb across her shoulder with the hand that was limited by Jamie resting on the upper part of his arm. With his freer hand, he decided to return the favor she paid to him and ran his fingers through her long deep blue hair, starting with stroking back her bangs before sliding his hand down along the entire length of her hair until he reached the ends at her hips. The feeling was soft and silky, and she sighed softly at the attention.

On impulse, Cove poked one of the small buns on top of his girlfriend’s head. Space buns were her preferred hairstyle of choice nowadays, and there was something satisfying about poking them that he couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was the feel of them, or the way the bunched up hair bounced when poked that did it, but most likely it was because of the amused looks Jamie gave him whenever he did. She wore one such expression now, and he couldn’t help but chuckle a bit before giving her bun another playful poke.

Entertained, Jamie let Cove have her way with her buns, poking and prodding them as he pleased. The potential for innuendo wasn’t lost on her, but she let it go unsaid. As fun as it would be to make him flustered by suggesting that he might enjoy playing with a different set of buns she had even more, she didn’t want to interrupt the light, playful moment.

Jamie would just save that little bit of wordplay for later, preferably when the mood was good enough that Cove might take her up on the invitation.

Despite the steamy thoughts that skirted through her mind, Jamie did her best to focus on enjoying the lazy moment between them. It was lovely to just share such casual intimacy with Cove.

Jamie wasn’t alone in trying to ignore her more hormonal urges. As much as Cove enjoyed playing with her hair, focusing on touching her as he did made it impossible for him to stop thinking about the fact that they were both lying on his bed together. He was keenly aware of the gentle warmth of her body pressed against him, how soft and inviting her pink lips looked as she smiled at him.

Eventually, Cove realized he needed something else to occupy his hands if he didn’t want to risk disrupting the peaceful moment. Shifting about a bit, he fished his cell phone out of his pocket. Although Jamie raised an eyebrow at that and at being displaced from her cozy spot when he moved around, she held no objections as he turned his phone on and busied himself with it. Instead, she simply readjusted her position to get comfortable once he was settled again.

Sifting through missed texts and emails, Cove soon managed to distract himself from the urges that ruffled his nerves and relaxed back into the moment. He spotted a number of texts he missed from his dad, and for a moment he wondered if everything was okay until he realized Cliff just sent him a bunch of images last night.

A warm smile graced his face as Cove slowly scrolled his way through the photographs, nostalgia washing over him. Each photo brought him back to the moment it was taken, allowing him to lose himself in the priceless memories he shared with his friends, family, and especially the special person he held so comfortably close at that very moment.

Some photos brought back sweet memories, others a little more on the bitter side of sweet, and then there were the funnier ones. One such silly photo seized Cove’s attention, and he couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped him.

The sound immediately snapped Jamie out of her relaxed stupor and brought her back to the present. She raised an eyebrow at Cove, but he failed to notice her questioning look, too preoccupied by whatever was on his phone’s screen.

“What’s so funny?” Jamie asked as she propped herself up on her arm to get a better look at his face and catch a glimpse of the phone’s screen.

Cove finally turned to look at Jamie, his eyes crinkled with mirth and a smirk playing on his lips. “Dad scanned some old photos,” he chuckled. “You know…”

Now that Jamie was no longer using his arm as a pillow, Cove was free to use it to draw a rectangle in the air. “Printed out ones,” he explained, “back from when I was little.” He waved his phone a bit with his other hand. “He texted it all to me last night, I guess. I’ve been checking them out.”

Jamie sat up completely, her dark blue eyes flying open wide. “You were looking at your kiddie photos and didn’t tell me?!” she gasped, almost scandalized at missing out on something so priceless.

Cove barely resisted the urge to chuckle, offering Jamie a bent smile as his eyes narrowed playfully. “I was gonna show you.” His gaze then slid away to his phone as his expression turned a little more hesitant. “I just wanted to look at it first to make sure there was nothing super embarrassing. You never know with my dad.”

His mouth pulled into a grimace as Cove could easily imagine all sorts of horrors his dad might have captured on film to unintentionally humiliate him until the end of time. “I mean… what if there’s a photo of me getting potty trained or something?”

Although Jamie empathized with his worries, she couldn’t help but giggle at the fraught expression Cove wore. “Yeah, that sounds like something your dad would do.”

Cove could only respond by clearing his throat nervously, his eyes skirting away from Jamie as he sat up as well. While he hadn’t come across any particularly humiliating photo of himself, he couldn’t quite shake the fear of what his dad’s well-meaning actions might have left for him to deal with this time.

Jamie offered her boyfriend a sympathetic smile before adding a slight bent to it. “Hey, how about this - if you let me look at your embarrassing baby photos, I’ll show you just as many of mine. My moms have plenty of them.”

The offer was tempting. Cove couldn’t help but wonder what sort of photos Jamie had in mind, but the price was just too steep. He merely chuckled awkwardly and shook his head as he pointedly kept his phone tilted away from her. She huffed and puffed out her cheeks in a mock pout at him for holding out on her, which elicited a genuine bout of laughter from him.

Once Cove got his mirth under control, he smiled at Jamie. “Anyway, before we forget, I was laughing ‘cause I came across a Halloween one from when I was eight. The year I was a zombie, remember?”

Jamie dropped her faux pout and nodded, her eyes lighting up eagerly. Cove shook his head at her excitement, a wry grin gracing his face as he finally offered the phone to her.

As Cove watched Jamie eagerly turn to his phone, he couldn’t help but shake his head again, this time at his kid self. “I never even liked zombies!” he said, a little baffled that he ever was so enthusiastic for such a costume. “All I wanted was to show off my new scar. And I needed to be something scary. I couldn’t be a normal person who had a scar, according to my eight-year-old mind.”

The photo displayed on the screen showed Cove from ten years in the past, and a pleasant wave of nostalgia washed over Jamie as she saw him the way he looked when they first met, minus the pink cast and plus a fair amount of makeup and fake blood. Little Cove posed for the camera with his fingers hooked like claws, his mouth open as though letting out what was probably supposed to be a fierce roar. She could easily remember the noises he made that night as he pretended to be a zombie on the hunt for brains. His hair looked even more wild and disheveled than it did after the most energetic day of play, going well with the tattered and ‘blood’ stained button up shirt he wore. His face was painted in gray down to his neck, marred with an array of fake scars that couldn’t compare to the real one on his arm.

Cove looked from Jamie to the phone and chuckled softly at the face his younger self pulled for the camera. “I was a little dork.”

Jamie eyed Cove at such self-depreciation before poking him on the nose. “You were a little cutie,” she insisted. “And now you’re a big cutie.”

Cove blinked at the playful action before blushing at the compliment. He had no words to reply to it except for a quiet, flustered chuckle as he rubbed his nose.

Jamie grinned at that reaction before turning back to the photo. As much as she enjoyed how adorable Cove looked while pretending to be a fierce monster, it was impossible to ignore the scar displayed so predominantly on his arm at that time. Her smile softened at the edges at the sight of such a large, jagged line of fresh skin that was such a deep and angry shade of red. The scar was a pale memory in the present, but back then it looked so painful, and at the time she found it hard not to worry about him and his comfort after his cast came off.

Still, Jamie refused to let that put a damper on the story and focused instead on just how much fun little Cove was having posing for the camera and remembering the way they played around with their costumes that night. She could vividly recall how she pretended to run away from him when he playfully growled that he wanted to eat her brains, and the memory made her smile grow stronger.

“Dad really wanted to be useful, as usual,” Cove said, bringing Jamie’s attention back to him in the present. Though he noticed the flicker of sadness that crossed her face and realized the reason for it, he was glad to see her perk up again just as quickly. “He came up with the idea of being an undead person. It was pretty good, huh?”

Jamie chuckled softly and nodded. “You had the best Halloween costume that year, hands down,” she said playfully. “I remember you getting lots of extra candy when adults realized the scar was real.” Her smile widened as she remembered just how jealous Lizzie had been at how much candy Cove got that year, especially since he only offered to share some of that extra candy with Jamie. “It must have been your greatest Halloween haul ever.”

Cove couldn’t help but chuckle as well as he thought back to that legendary candy haul as well. It took him a month to finish it all even with Jamie’s help.

Still, the topic of his scar brought his gaze back to the picture. Cove couldn’t help but compare the way it looked in the photo to its current appearance on his left arm. “I can’t believe how much larger my scar used to be,” he said quietly.

Jamie watched as Cove turned his focus to his arm with a soft smile on his face. He traced his fingers along the jagged line of pale flesh that remained with him even ten years on. It was an action that she had seen him do countless times, but it felt more significant in that moment.

A soft sigh escaped Cove, but his eyes and tone were playful. “Look at how tiny it is now.” He gave Jamie a look with big, pathetic eyes. “How am I gonna pretend to be tough without a big scar?”

It was a struggle for Jamie not to laugh at the expression Cove wore. “You better not do anything stupid to get a new scar,” she joked with a faux disapproving frown as she wagged a finger at him. “No matter how much you like them!”

Cove grinned back at Jamie. “I won’t.”

“Good,” Jamie said with a satisfied nod. “You’ve already got the coolest scar, no matter how small it gets.”

Cove felt his cheeks grow warm and his smile turned bashful. “Thanks.” He ducked his head away from Jamie, pleased with their joking exchange. Once again, his eyes drifted down to his scar as he continued to trace it.

“I really do like having this,” he admitted in a soft, shy voice. “Even if it is kind of little these days.”

Jamie’s expression softened as well, feeling as though Cove was sharing a big secret with her. She couldn’t help but feel happy to hear that he liked his scar despite whatever pain it must have caused him to get it. It was always wonderful whenever he opened up to her like this.

Cove glanced up at Jamie, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “I like yours, too.”

The unexpected compliment caught Jamie off guard, and heat rose in her cheeks, turning them pink. She couldn’t help but smile as she felt her chest flutter with butterflies. He never failed to think of her as well, especially since he knew that she was self-conscious of her own scars.

Unthinkingly, Jamie brought her hand up to her upper arm and traced some of the countless jagged little white lines that marred her pale skin. There were matching scars in the same place on her other arm, as well as her thighs and her chest. Unlike Cove, these scars were not the result of an accident, but her skin not being able to keep up with her sudden growth during puberty.

Back during her early teenage years when the stretch marks were fresh and an angry purplish-red, Jamie always kept them hidden. Puberty had been rough on her, dealing a blow to her self-esteem as well as her body, and being covered in so many scars left her feeling ugly even though she never once thought of Cove’s scar like that.

It took time for Jamie to accept her scars, and she knew that Cove was a big part of why. Seeing the way he took such quiet pride in his scar always made her question how she thought of hers. More than that, he always made her feel beautiful, and he was always the first to remind her whenever she needed it. That was why she was no longer afraid to wear clothes that exposed her scars like she did now.

Jamie scooted in closer to Cove as she smiled adoringly at him, placing her hand on top of his. “Thank you, Cove.”

Cove turned back to face Jamie fully. He finally let go of his scar so that he could take her hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. He felt at peace with his scar and was happy to see the same reflected on her face as well. Their scars held such meaning to them despite coming from unhappy sources.

Jamie squeezed his hand back as she drifted even closer. “Could I touch your scar?”

Cove blinked, taken aback by the request. Usually, Jamie wasn’t shy about touching him without asking first, particularly someplace as innocent as his arm. Still, he quickly realized why she might hesitate to do that now and smiled gently at her as he nodded easily. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

Jamie gave Cove’s hand one more squeeze before letting go of it. Lightly, she pressed her fingertips against the edges of his scar. With great care, she slowly ran her thumb along the entire length of it, following the jagged angles the old wound took. The pale flesh was rough when compared to the rest of his skin, which was soft, but with goosebumps rising quickly along his arm as she stroked his scar.

The touch, so delicate and gentle, left Cove feeling a bit lightheaded. Jamie’s touch always felt wonderful and often left him feeling butterflies, but somehow the feel of her paying such careful attention to his scar was particularly powerful. A choked breath escaped him and a wobbly smile played across his face as he lost himself in the feeling.

The dizzied smile Cove wore along with the light pink of his cheeks drew Jamie in with the urge to do more. She locked eyes with him, staring deep into his aquamarine eyes as she took a hold of his arm and raised it up towards her.

A quiet gasp escaped Cove when she realized what Jamie had in mind. He couldn’t look away from her dark blue eyes as she stared so intently into him even as she placed a soft kiss on the old wound that marked him. The feeling of her lips, warm and soft, pressed so tenderly against that particular place sent shivers up his spine, and he let out a tiny squeak.

Jamie smiled against Cove’s skin as she appreciated his adorable reaction, as well as the way he looked at her with overwhelming adoration. She kissed him again and again, tracing the entire length of his scar with her lips like she did with her fingers before.

It was impossible for Cove to stay still when Jamie was showing him such affection. He reached up with his free hand to touch her arm. With his thumb, he brushed aside the edge of her open sleeve, giving him better access to the countless little white lines marking her pale skin. The texture was interesting, feeling so similar yet so different from his own scar. Because of their size and number, he found his fingers constantly alternating between soft skin and rougher tissue. It was difficult to trace any one scar from start to finish like she did for him, so instead he sought out to touch every single one.

The touch was electric, and Jamie could feel her heartbeat speed up as Cove caressed her so lovingly. “Cove…”

Cove shivered again as Jamie murmured his name against his skin, setting off sparks that made his body burn pleasantly. It urged him to lean forward, his eyes gleaming with the fire she set ablaze inside him.

Jamie raised her head and instinctively matched his movement, drawing nearer to Cove as her eyes drifted closed. She felt his lips gently meet hers, and she melted into the tender kiss. She held a little more firmly onto his arm as she fell deeper into him, feeling like she might drown in the depths of her feelings for him.

Cove all too quickly lost himself in the moment and in Jamie. It felt so wonderful, so right to be her like this, to touch and kiss her. He loved her so much that it was almost overwhelming, but knowing that she loved him as well kept him grounded.

Eventually they finally drifted apart, breathless and dazed from the kiss, their faces flushed with heat. When Jamie opened her eyes, she saw Cove gazing back at her with his mesmerizing ocean blue eyes. The look he gave her was spellbinding, filled with so much love and adoration that made her heart hammer hard against her ribcage. It told her without words that the feelings he had for her were just as immense as hers were for him.

Cove leaned in again, this time resting his forehead gently against Jamie’s. With heavy lidded eyes, he simply enjoyed gazing deeply into her blue eyes that always reminded him of the night sky. No matter how many times he saw them, they always captivated him. He could lose himself in those beautiful eyes of hers.

The feeling of his warm breath tickling her skin made Jamie shiver a little, especially the way it brushed against her lips like the ghost of a kiss. With their heads touching, his hand on her arm and hers on his, she felt entirely entwined with Cove. It felt so right.

Time ceased to have any meaning in that moment as they gazed deeply into their partner’s eyes and drank in the closeness and warmth they shared. Seconds or minutes might have passed, but neither of them cared as they lost themselves in each other.

#Our Life Beginnings & Always #Our Life #ourlifeba #Cove Holden #Jamie Last #Jamie Leimomi #My Writing

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fancyfade · 3 years ago

Text

Okay, a lonely place of dying thoughts. This will be long

So, I just finished re-reading a lonely place of dying. before I get to far into it: This is specifically to analyze the way the character and information is presented to the reader. It’s not to say “so and so is a bad character” or “this is a bad plotline”.

Starting off: they were definitely playing it super safe for the comic reader when they introduced Tim. It feels as if he is introduced literally as an audience avatar. For a large portion of the time before we meet him, we literally are seeing through his eyes -- the panel is positioned so that we would be at his head height, looking at whatever he’s looking at. we never see him except for his hands (so the audience can presumably imagine themselves in his shoes).

this isn’t the way they usually frame unknown characters or characters whose identity is obscured to create an air of mystery -- and there’s an excellent comparison in this same plotline, because there is a character with their identity obscured, who was framed a different way

[image: first two panels are of two face, who is wearing a trench coat and a fedora that casts a shadodw and obscures his face so we cannot tell who he is. His face is completely in shadow. he is talking to someone behind him. he says "Tomorrow. The zwei brothers warehouse. Two am. Now go back to your wife. the fat lady's about to sing." in the next panel, we see him from behind. the back of his head is entirely in shadow to avoid giving us any hints as to who he is. the man he's talking to, Gerry sky, says "whatever it is -- later." two face says "now. 'payroll activation'" and gerry says "okay, okay -- now."

next there's a panel with the dialogue whited out. We still see two face, wearing gloves and having nearly all of his skin (except for his face, which is always in shadow) covered. First we look at him from above and he is small against a dark room with a bookshelf in the background. Then there's a closeup of only his gloved hand as he turns off the radio. We see him from behind (thighs up) as he stands in front of a window, then another shot of his gloved hand trying to touch the radio. and both his hands clench in fists. He hits the radio, breaking it (his body is still off screen except for his arm and hand) and then at his feet we see the broken radio. end image]

end image/begin commentary - Framing of two face on panel

Notice: The presumed “camera angle” is dynamic around Two face. We see him from multiple angles -- from both in front and behind. When we are looking at the same thing he's looking at, we are positioned behind him, like we're looking over his shoulder. the close ups on his hand are not positioned as if he's looking at his own hand and we are in his head pay special attention to the panel he's adjusting the radio on and the fourth panel of the page -- we're looking from the side of him or from behind him and under his elbow there.

Two face is our mysterious bad guy. This is how they visually frame a character they want an air of mystery around.

compare that to the framing around tim

[image: first, we are looking through a camera that is continuously taking pictures of Batman as he stumbles down a slide, walks shakily to his batmobile, and takes off. then the camera is lowered (we see the hand that is lowering the camera in the view, it is below us as if we were looking through this person's eyes) and put inside a duffle bag. after that, we see something in the conrer of the screen -- an arm wearing a jacket?) and puddles of blood, then a bike tire -- but not the rest of the bike, which is off panel -- cutting through the puddles of blood. next pages shows a bunch of internal monologue that has been blockedo ut. a series of batman and robin pictures from the newspapers and a picture of batman swinging on a line in a scrap book. (in the first panel, batman and robin looking victorious in pictures, the second panel some headlines: “batman attacks mom” and “batman on the rampage” and “batman collars dope ring”. the third a picture of reporters interviewing gordon captioned with “batman batters bandits”. we can see the hand grabbing this picture as if we were holding it.

then we appear to be behind whoever is on the page, looking at his elbow, as he opens up a drawer, then we're back "inside" his head again as he holds up a photo with the graysons (john, dick, mary) and the drakes (tim and his parents). 3 year old tim is sitting on 12 year old dick's leg. end image]

end image/begin commentary - Framing of Tim in Panel

okay sorry forgive me but this is fucking fascinating in my opinion. Notice that for two face, most of the close ups on his hands were specifically away from his point of view -- we weren’t positioned where his eyes were, but looking from the outside in.

For tim, we’re almost always looking through his eyes, contrasting to two face

and for tim, even when we were not looking through his eyes, in the very first page, he wasn’t even on panel -- we knew nothing about him, we just saw the edge of his bike. the second page we saw a bit of his arm but we never zoom out far enough to see his whole body and definitely not his face -- even if it would be obscured by shadow.

The first read through, I assumed they were going for an air of mystery, but the contrast between how they handle two face and tim to me makes it clear that they weren’t -- it might have been an unintended side effect, or a bonus effect, but it wasn’t the main purpose. The audience is literally viewing most of the panels Tim is in through Tim’s eyes. He is almost literally an audience avatar.

My general hypothesis here (which I think I am supplying proof of) is that Tim is intended to be an avatar in universe for the “average comic reader" (with some assumptions made by the writer about the average comic reader re: race, age, gender, socioeconomic class)

For more support of this, let’s see how Tim talks about batman and robin --

[image: 3 comic panels from batman 440 featuring newspaper clippings (in the first panel, batman and robin looking victorious in pictures, the second panel some headlines: “batman attacks mom” and “batman on the rampage” and “batman collars dope ring”. the third a picture of reporters interviewing gordon captioned with “batman batters bandits”. there is internal monologue from (the framing of the scene implies tim drake, but at this point he is unknown to the audience) reading “He seemed happier with dick. Now, I guess it’s like he just doesn’t care. But I want him to care again. I want him to be the batman I remember.” then, we have panels from the new titans 61 dick, as nightwing, is reaching in to talk to tim. he grabs tim's arm. dick says, “I don't believe this. that man raised me. I've gone through hell with him and because of him. Don't lecture me about him until you've cared for him and loved him as long as I have”. dick puts his helmet on and drives off on his bike. before leaving, he says "when jason died, he took robin with him." Tim cries and calls after him: "I... I was only thinking of the team... of what Batman and Robin meant! You can't let a legend die like that, Dick..." end image]

end image/begin comment - Tim’s perception of Batman & Robin

Notice in the first panels (with the newspaper clippings) that Tim is reminiscent, he specifically talks about ‘teh batman and robin’ that he remembers. The narrative puts more significance for tim on the fact that batman is not happy and he is not the batman tim remembers, rather than the fact that batman is beating people nearly to death (tim notices this, and it seems to be a “because batman is so clearly sad” thing -- which this is not I believe intended to be a commentary on tim’s priorities, since the general narrative seems to be using bruce’s ultra-violence as a sign he’s angsty).

Then, compare dick’s reaction to bruce with Tim’s.

Dick’s connection to Bruce is extremely personal. Bruce, Batman, whatever, is his dad and raised him and, like he said, put him through hell sometimes. His connection to Jason’s death is similarly personal.

Tim’s connection to Batman and Robin is extremely abstract and idealized. He is thinking of them as, say, a comics reader might think of them. As a crimefighting team who are not together anymore, and this is bad.

this is just bulletpoint 2 in “tim is supposed to represent the audience”, not intending to be a condemnation of tim.

Thirdly

[image: first, a comic panel from Batman 440 showing a close up of Tim’s hand as he reads a paper and him thinking ‘No! the haly circus is closing?’ then, a series of comic panels from the new titans # 60. first, we see mr haly (off screen) and his cigar (on screen) as haly gestures at a photo of the flying grayson's on the wall. then he says "Yeah. Cost us a fortune and brought down our selling price. You know, sometimes I sit here and just remember the good old days. We were barely breaking even back then, too -- but man, were we having fun. then, we see dick grayson wearing jeans and a red shirt, walking through the circus ground. first, he looks kind of dejected and his hands are in his pockets. the narration box reads "he leaves, trying to reconcile the past and the present. Kids grow up and change. but why should everything do the same? The animal cages stink with waste. Was it always this way? At times like now, he wishes for never-never land." then, dick turns as he hears something and says "Hunh? That scream?" end image]

end image/begin comment - Nostalgia as a Theme

Nostalgia is an EXTREMELY strong theme in this comic. Batman is different, he’s not like he used to be. Haley’s circus is different and at risk, but Dick goes back and meets the performers he used to know -- some are still the same, some are in a more rough situation (alcoholic clown). Someone’s trying to kill his friends in the circus, it’s not really a place of childhood innocence for Dick. Dick explicitly wishes to be in never-never land (the imaginary far off place where you never grow up)

How things should be -- both in Tim’s mind and Dick’s mind, Haly’s mind -- is the idealistic past, but we clearly can’t go back to it -- Dick says that the first thing Bruce taught him was how to grow up.

Next bulletpoint:

[image: first are some comic panels showing Tim Drake talking to Dick Grayson and Alfred Pennyworth in wayne manor. Tim says “You know, since I was able to read, I clipped every article I could about Batman and Robin. Heck, I used to fantasize about what it would be like to be robin. I study hard. I get mostly A’s. I work out. I’m no circus acrobat, but I’m pretty good, I guess. But mostly, I read aobut you two. You’ve both been so important to me in so many ways. And when I see that without Robin Batman is going off hte deep end, I know there’s serious trouble.” next, we see Dick stepping forward and talking to Tim. he says "But you haven't told me anything I don't already know. I want the rest of it. All of it." end image]

end image/ begin commentary - textually a fanboy

Textually, Tim is presented as a Batman and Robin fanboy -- that’s how he found Batman’s secret identity (link)

He studies Batman and Robin from afar. He reads about them. Kind of like a comics reader would. he wants to be Robin. Again, superhero comics have some wish fulfillment element and definitely wanting to imagine yourself in a character’s shoes is an appeal for many fans. Tim wanted to imagine himself in robin’s shoes and fantasized about being him -- there’s kind of two layers here, one is the presumed audience member reading tim, wanting to imagine themselves in his shoes as he interacts with his heroes, the other is tim, who wanted to imagine himself in dick’s shoes.

re: the second posted image in this set: Tim hasn’t told dick anything that dick doesn’t know, because tim doesn’t know anything dick doesn’t know -- he is the comic reader here. That’s also why he’s so up-to-date on all of the other comic character’s stuff -- we see him list off all of the teen titans, he talks about jason’s death casually, he knows that alfred is batman’s confident -- he pretty much has all of the information that a reader of DC comics would have if they just got beamed into the DC universe at this point.

[image: first, two panels, one showing tim smiling and thinking "Wow! And I thought Harry did it. Man, Dick is good". tehn we see dick holding some photos and talking ot tim, who is at his bike. dick says "These pictures, two face is back in town, isn't he?" Tim says "You can tell, just from them? Wow! You're even better than I thought." the next scene is in the batcave. Dick is nightwing and is about to leave on his motor cycle, alfred and tim are behind him. tim says "no, not nightwing, Dick. don't you understand -- Batman needs Robin!" he turns to look at alfred and says "Doesn't anyone understand?" Alfred says "Perhaps, young man. Perhaps master Dick understands profoundly -- perhaps that is why he brought you here." tim looks surprised. end image]

end image/begin commentary: The old robin’s approval

another very important thing here: DC plays it as safe as possible with tim’s introduction, trying to make the audience like him, and one is definitely establishing that Tim both looks up to dick and thinks he’s cool (first two panels) and that he has dick’s presumed approval/blessing to be robin (last three panels). it’s also important to note that while tim is portrayed as competent, he never shows up Batman and Nightwing -- he rescues them because two-face lured them into an expert trap, but he doesn’t outdo either of them on fighting or detective work. this has an in universe explanation -- he is 13 years old, just starting out -- and an out of universe explanation -- if he’s not showing up anyone’s favorite character, he is presumably more palatable and less threatening for the presumed reader.

that’s what i mean when I say taht DC played their intro of tim very safe -- he falls in with the established characters, already likes them, is practically already a fan of them with full fanboy connotations. The idealized past is presented as something as desirable, both to the reader and to the characters themselves, and there is a strong current of nostalgia and returning things to how they “should” be with Batman having a robin. Tim voices what many readers may feel: That batman lost his way, that he needs Robin, and he gets to act out those feelings in the comic. the text acknowledges that they can’t just force dick back into it, that people have to grow up, and dick passes the mantle to tim.

overall I think that tim’s employment here was effective, but I look forward to seeing more when he’s allowed to be himself rather than an audience avatar. I understand lots of people like audience avatars and he was wildly popular presumably for those reasons, but I personally found the plotline lackluster at points.

#okay here it is #fade reads dc comics #dc comics #a lonely place of dying #batman 1940 #dick grayson #tim drake #batfam #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #character meta #or more of like #comic meta

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dying-suffering-french-stalkers · 3 years ago

Note

For the ship game: prime numbers for Lupin x Jigen!

HERE YOU GO GHOST, THIS WAS FIVE PAGES IN A GOOGLE DOC AND TOOK ME SEVERAL HOURS

Under a cut, allegedly, though mobile has been known to just IGNORE THAT. Sorry in advance if this gets goofed for anyone.

2) Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, in any place?

Lupin, obviously (and canonically). Just the horniest man you ever did see. Jigen knows what he wants and when he wants it, but he has difficulty keeping up with Don Juan Triumphant over there. Lupin is also far less picky about locations and times than Jigen is. Jigen still has a FEW standards, thank you, and also a stronger sense of self-preservation. Lupin sometimes tries to start shit in public or during a heist and Jigen is like “I REALLY, REALLY APPRECIATE THE SENTIMENT BUT CAN WE NOT.” The closest to public anything Jigen will put up with is bar bathroom/back-alley hookups, and he doesn’t really tend to do that with Lupin or Goemon since they have secondary locations far more suited to such activity (or at least the damn Fiat, if nothing else). That said, Jigen is a spiteful bastard and gets a huge kick out of riling Lupin up over the walkie-talkie during jobs. He is more than happy to get jumped by his boss after they make it out and secure the loot.

3) Who is more into taking showers/baths together? Who tries to make it relaxing and who tries to make it sexy time?

Honestly, while I can totally see Lupin and Jigen doing this with their other partners, I have a harder time imagining the two of them doing this together and I’m not sure why. I feel like these two on their own both like the privacy bathing gives them, whether it’s to clean wounds or decompress from a job.

On the occasions when they do bathe together, I feel like it’s an unspoken kind of thing, where the other person quietly slips in the tub/shower with them and they just don’t bother protesting. I think Lupin is more likely to join Jigen in his bathing, but if Jigen is sleepy enough or lonely enough he might do the same. There is a lot of mutual appreciation of scars. They’ve definitely smoked in the tub before (Intricate Rituals™). Lupin is probably more likely to get handsy, because Lupin, but two can play that game if Jigen is feeling it, and also Jigen gives Lupin a run for his money in the staring department. No hat to hide behind now.

Lupin has also 100% done the whole “Hey Jigen, do you know if—stop screaming, it’s me—do you know if we have any more instant dashi? Goemon’s gonna slice up the sofa if I ruin soba night again.”

5) Who sleeps on the couch when they get into a fight?

Jigen, but to be fair, he canonically sleeps on the couch most nights (possibly to keep an eye on the door, possibly because he knows that place, at least, is always “acceptable” for him to occupy). It’s an odd night if you don’t see Jigen out there with a glass and a bottle of scotch and an old movie on TV. The main difference is that if he and Lupin have been fighting, he won’t bother with the formality of a glass and the TV will be playing far louder or not at all.

7) [A] Who said “I love you” first? And [B] who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?

I hate to take the coward’s way out here, but I think the answers are A) either one - depends on the headcanon/fic/version of the characters I’m feeling that day, and B) both.

For A, they’re both the sort of people to show their love—true love/affection, not just flirtation/infatuation, LUPIN—in action, not words. Lupin is a man of many words to a fault, generous with his verbal and physical affection, so Lupin has to find a way to make sure Jigen knows he means it and how he means it. He may rightly fear that Jigen won’t believe him (or else believe him but take it platonically) if he says “I love you” to his face, so first he’ll show him through every little action he can. Jigen is a man of few words to a fault, so saying personal stuff like that out loud is both a last resort and the point of no return. Getting him to say it at all, unambiguously, and while sober is like pulling teeth. Once one of them finally spits it out, though, I think the other is quick to reciprocate (again, if they manage to say it clearly and under good circumstances and not ambiguously/while drunk or wounded/etc. They’re both idiots and selective cowards so this is a big if). The mutual relief is palpable and immediately followed by sex, because they’re both (horny) idiots and selective cowards who do not want to talk about Emotions and Personal Things any more than strictly necessary.

For B, ohhhh man, if it isn’t that same emotional avoidance coming to bite them in the asses! Looks like talking about deep emotions is strictly necessary after all! You know it’s a Big Important Argument for them if this is what it comes to. This is going to tie in somewhat to the answers for 11, 17, and 23, so stay tuned. “Because I love you” coming from either of them should give the other pause, but if they are angry enough, they’re both quite likely to storm off after that declaration anyway. They’ll come back and have a real discussion later, but the shock or frustration of that arresting declaration dropped in the middle of an argument is something neither of them are great at dealing with. Hearing that from Jigen might be enough to stop Lupin in his tracks, but Lupin might also be so dead-set on something that he’ll steamroll right over it even if he knows he’ll regret it later. Hearing that from Lupin probably only makes Jigen angrier because of his awful self-esteem (see answers 11 and 23), and even if he’s been working on that, his instinct will be to snarl “Yeah, right” and storm out the door. I like to think that one day they are able to get to the heart of the argument sooner (because this is almost always it) and work on the behaviors that worry the other so much, but alas, they are a mess.

11) Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?

Once again, either of them depending on the day.

As you mentioned in your JiGoe post, Jigen says it partly because he thinks it’s funny (“You have a crush on me, Boss? Fuckin’ embarrassing”) but also because he’s fishing for validation. His self-esteem/confidence in anything outside his shooting skills is shit and he still can’t quite believe that Lupin isn’t lying/he hasn’t conned Lupin into something. This is rather overestimating his conning skills and underestimating his many good qualities, but, well, genuine, lasting affection is kinda new for him. Much to Jigen’s annoyance, Lupin figures out exactly what Jigen’s up to after the first few times and answers him seriously (and positively) instead of continuing the “joke”. Lupin loses patience for this particular tactic over time but I like to think that Jigen finally begins believing in the affection, too, so it comes up less and less and one day Jigen might actually play the quip straight without the self-deprecation. Ideally he would just take the damn compliment, but it’s LupJig and banter is one of their love languages.

When Lupin says it, he typically is playing the quip straight and fondly giving Jigen shit for showing an Emotion and motherFUCKER I just realized Jigen could probably be considered a tsundere. I hate this. ANYWAY. Jigen then immediately snarks back that yes, Lupin, considering we’ve been travelling the world together and actively fucking for X years, it’d be damn awkward if I didn’t by now.

13) Who initiates duets? and who is the better singer?

Lupin absolutely initiates duets, or rather, he tries to; whether or not Jigen actually chimes in is another matter entirely. Lupin is also the better singer by far (when he’s sober). He loves singing along to pop and rock in the car (“This is the reason God invented America!”).

Much as it would please me personally to give Jigen a smooth operatic baritone, there’s no way in hell he sounds good after smoking a pack a day for twenty-something years. I think Jigen can carry a tune and he’s a decent hummer and whistler, but his singing voice isn’t spectacular.

Lupin occasionally succeeds in getting Jigen to join him in car karaoke, though as in all things, Lupin is much louder and more impassioned. Jigen frequently hums along under his breath, though, and Lupin loves hearing Jigen’s a cappella renditions of classical music (complete with hand motions).

When Queen starts becoming popular, car singalongs become much more involved because it’s MY silly headcanon and You Are Not Immune To Queen. Jigen cried the first time he heard “Bohemian Rhapsody” and he will kill Lupin if he ever tells Goemon or, God forbid, Fujiko. When the four of them are in the car it’s a full-on Wayne’s World headbanging party. (Pops is the drunk guy they pick up along the way. Also, seeing Payless Shoe Source in this clip dealt me psychic damage.)

Lupin and Jigen (and Goemon) are the living embodiment of the drunk friends singing “Sweet Caroline” post, and Jigen is specifically this version of “Sweet Caroline”.

17) Who is more protective?

THAT IS THE QUESTION, HUH, GHOST? Jigen’s job and, to a certain degree, raison d’être is protecting Lupin, but (to cheat slightly and quote your own DM to me), if you think Lupin won’t raze everything to the ground to keep Jigen (and the others) safe, you don’t know him at all. They are this meme to the deepest of faults. They are both so desperately afraid of losing what they have (and in Lupin’s case, this is tinged with a bonus, even more concerning “what is his”) that they will go full self-sacrificing, scorched-earth policy. This is, in fact, my favorite reason for Lupin to do the worst thing he does: fake his own death to protect his partners. Lupin never stops to think that maybe, JUST MAYBE, he should trust his partners to fake grief and keep the secret long enough for whoever’s on their tail to give up or let their guard slip. Lupin is willing to hurt them in an effort to protect them, so in that way, I suppose Lupin is the “most” “protective”. Jigen’s self-abasement to the point of unhesitating and perhaps even hasty sacrifice is painful, too, but Jigen would never dare go to the same level of deception (except in Goodbye, Partner, apparently? But 1) I haven’t watched it yet and 2) while awful, I still feel like fake betrayal pales in comparison to very convincingly (AND MAYBE REPEATEDLY) faked death).

19) Who drives and who has the window seat?

They split driving duties, but Lupin genuinely loves driving and Jigen is more than happy to prop his feet on the Fiat’s dashboard and smoke or sleep the hours away.

23) Who thinks they are not good enough for the other’s love? and who’s more afraid of losing the other? Who thinks they keep messing up, only for the other to tell them they don’t need to worry?

HERE WE GO AGAIN!!! I think the answer to all of these is ultimately Jigen, but that’s not to say Lupin doesn’t share the exact same worries.

Jigen has a very difficult time believing that his partners’ love is genuine, and since Lupin is the one he knew first, that’s where it first manifests. Jigen has had very, very few good romantic connections in his life (if any). He doesn’t know what Lupin could possibly see in an older, prickly hired killer with a drinking problem and a head full of demons. He’s willing to believe that Lupin keeps him around for his skills, for protection, and for sex, sure, but anything past that? Doubtful. This ties into the other two parts of the question: Jigen is afraid that if he fails in his sharpshooting or his protection, he will be cut out of the gang, or worse, Lupin will end up dead because Jigen slipped up. As mentioned in question 17, Jigen cannot bear to lose Lupin and he would never forgive himself if he believed it was somehow his fault. Accordingly, Jigen takes “failure” that exceeds his usual margin of error very seriously in the early days. Later, he is better about this, but the worst-case scenario still stands.

Lupin, on the other hand, has had plenty of romantic connections, some good, some bad, though it is perhaps telling that Fujiko is his longest romantic relationship other than Jigen. He is afraid that if he doesn’t put on the world’s greatest show at all times, no one will give a rat’s ass about some scrawny grandson of an old French thief (or the perhaps unwanted/disliked son of a ruthless crime lord, because I love that fanon for Lupin the Second). He must live up to and indeed surpass the previous Lupins, he must shower his partners in money and adventure, he must always, always come out on top no matter how south the plan goes, or else what is the point of him? It takes time for him to turn his persona off for more than a few seconds, to let the quieter, sometimes contemplative side that slips through the cracks come to rest out in the open. Years down the road, Jigen finally gets up the courage and the words to tell Lupin that he would love him no matter what he did or where he went, even if that was nothing and nowhere. And again, see question 17 re: losing Jigen.

29) Who does some crazy stunt to try and impress the other and who ends up driving them to the emergency room after it backfires?

Lupin is by far the most guilty of this. He’s constantly pulling dumb shit, whether that be for World-Renowned Gentleman Thief reasons or just He May Be Stupid reasons. Case in point: the tunnel scene in The First, after which Jigen was duly impressed. Fortunately for Lupin, Lady Luck must be head over heels for him because the bastard keeps surviving, but sometimes even she can’t save him from medical consequences. Jigen bulk-ordered “Stupid Hurts” band-aids specifically for Lupin. Jigen’s bad choices are more likely to literally backfire on him, but Goemon more than makes up for Jigen’s slack in the Crazy Stunt department.

#I CARE THEY #hope this is comprehensible bc i honestly cannot tell #i have many thoughts on these two human disasters #lupin iii #jigen #asks #the-golden-ghost #long post #meta #I GUESS #can you believe i wrote five pages of meta about 1970s comedy anime characters? fucking hell. i love this fandom.#ship meme

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stufftippywrote · 3 years ago

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perfect

Cicadas sing a sharp song in the trees. The heat blisters the pavement. It’s a miserable summer afternoon for most people, which is why Wei Ying loves it. It’s nothing compared to sticky, swampy Yunmeng summers. In dry heat like this, the sun feels good and the trees are brilliant green and Wei Ying loves being alive.

He doesn’t love being in class, but at least everyone is miserable along with him in this heat. Lots of mopping brows, lots of unsatisfied murmurs. Is there any relief to be found in Gusu on such a day? Some have heard there’s a lake a bit further up in the mountains, big enough for swimming. But they’re not allowed to go up there; it’s off limits to everyone but Lan inner disciples. Only Wei Ying knows for a fact that it’s there; that’s because he’s been sneaking off up there every night since summer school started.

Lan Qiren enters and the room falls silent. The frantic wiping of sweat of brows continues, a current of activity in the quiet classroom. Lan Qiren surveys them silently and frowns. He’s sweating, too.

“Due to the excessive heat,” he says, coughing, “the upper grounds of Cloud Recesses will be opened to students for the duration of the day. That includes the lake. The back hills and the waterfall are still off limits.” Nobody picks up this last bit, because the minute Lan Qiren says “lake,” the room starts to buzz with whispers.

Not even Lan Qiren can quell them; there’s a torrent of nervous energy in this room, and it won’t survive an entire lesson. Sure enough, about twenty minutes before the end of the class students start gathering their things as though they’re ready to bolt. Wei Ying knows they’re only waiting for one of them to take the lead, and they’ll all start filing out with or without Lan Qiren’s say-so. Well, that’s a position he’s always happy to fill. He stretches out, grabs his backpack, and leaves the room without a word or a look back.

He heads up the stone stairs carved into the mountain, backpack slung loosely over one arm, whistling to himself. The other students will have some time catching up to him; he knows the way to the lake, and they don’t; besides, they have to go change, and Wei Ying always keeps his swimsuit in his backpack, just in case. So he climbs the stairs solo and pushes through the line of vegetation that lies between the path and the lake.

He’s about to emerge from the trees when a splash draws his attention. Quickly, he hides and peers over at the lake.

Someone’s already there and swimming. Wei Ying sees dark hair, pulled into a neat topknot, and the lines of what looks like a fairly strong body, blurred by the moving water. Some student has beat him to it. Which is a little surprising, because Wei Ying’s the only one with the chutzpah to sneak off in this direction when they’re supposed to be somewhere else. He watches in kind of dumb fascination as the swimmer moves to the near edge of the pond and surfaces.

Oh. Oh, that explains it.

It’s Lan Qiren’s annoyingly perfect nephew, Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, who is too good to attend classes with students his own age. Lan Zhan who, rather than making friends with such students, serves as a sort of disciplinarian, regularly snapping unruly students back into line with nothing more than a cold glance from his admittedly perfect face. Lan Zhan, who Wei Ying had to learn to avoid early in the summer, because he kept catching him trying to sneak out or tiptoe into forbidden places. That Lan Zhan.

Wei Ying steels himself to be utterly annoyed by whatever happens next.

Lan Zhan lingers for a time, head and shoulders above water. Then he approaches a large rock where his things sit in a neat white bundle. In one fluid movement, he lifts himself up with both hands on the rock and swings into a sitting position, his toes in the water.

It all happens like slow motion. Wei Ying’s brain sputters, then lurches, then goes completely on the fritz.

He’s—he’s—he’s actually perfect.

Wei Ying knew he was perfect, but that was an annoyance like everything. The beauty of his face was a mockery of everything Wei Ying stands for. He could find words to speak when faced with that stern face, but his words have dried up now, because Lan Zhan’s body is – Lan Zhan’s muscles are –

He has no idea Wei Ying is watching him. His face is serene, his body relaxed, and the sun beats on him like a spotlight, turning the edges of his skin to gold. Wei Ying is gobsmacked. How dare he. How dare he sit there with that expression, not knowing that he’s turning Wei Ying’s insides into molten lava just by being there … with thighs like that .. and a bare chest like a sculpted statue … and good god his arms, and his shoulders, and he already has an annoyingly perfect face, only now it’s matched up with that --- that body, and Wei Ying has never wanted to close his mouth around a drop of water the way he does now, as water trickles down Lan Zhan’s chest.

Oh, and he’s wearing a fucking Speedo.

It’s common knowledge that a Speedo looks stupid on like 95 percent of guys, and yet Lan Zhan looks as though it was created solely to fit him. And nothing is left to the imagination. Holy fuck, that knowledge is going to burn though him until he’s cinders. He struggles to concentrate on something – anything but that.

It’s going to be a very different experience the next time Lan Zhan disciplines him.

Oh. Oh, now his mind is up and running again, but the direction it’s going is dangerous. Lan Zhan angry with him, Lan Zhan throwing him against a wall, Lan Zhan tossing him to the grass. Standing over him. Kneeling over him. Those powerful thighs and well-muscled arms. A hard hand on his wrists, unyielding no matter how much Wei Ying resists. Lan Zhan forcing Wei Ying to his knees. Lan Zhan between Wei Ying’s legs, edging forward, pinning him down as…

“Fuck,” he swears, suddenly and far too loudly. Lan Zhan looks up. Eyes suddenly sharp, he leaps to his feet and scans the tree line. Wei Ying has no choice. He just hopes Lan Zhan doesn’t glance between his legs when he shows himself.

He steps forward from the trees, waving a halfhearted hand. “Hi, Lan Zhan,” he says with a grin. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Lan Zhan’s brows knit. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Oh, but I am!” Wei Ying keeps moving forward, despite his best intentions. Lan Zhan’s body is like a gravity well, drawing him closer. “They lifted the restriction so we could all come up and swim today. It’s brutal out,” he says, squinting and raising against the sun although he’s actually perfectly comfortable.

“Oh.” Lan Zhan looks at him warily. “So others are coming?”

He says it evenly, but Wei Ying wonders if there isn’t some trepidation there. He’s perturbed enough that Wei Ying’s entered his space; what are twenty-some classmates going to do to him? “They’re changing,” he says. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.” He grins. “Just you and me for the time being.”

He thinks the look in Lan Zhan’s eyes is anger, but he doesn’t know for sure. “How do you know this place?” he asks, sounding unsure and not at all like his usual gentlemanly self.

“Oh, your uncle explained how to get here when he gave us the notice this morning,” Wei Ying lies. “I just didn’t have to go back and change like the others, so I got here faster.” He taps his backpack. “Swimsuit’s in here.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes widen. “You’re going to change … here?”

“Why not? Ain’t nobody here but us boys,” Wei Ying says, and winks. He’s suddenly terrified of showing Lan Zhan his naked skin, but he can’t afford to show it. He strips off his T-shirt.

Lan Zhan turns as though offended by the sight. Well, sure he would be, since no one else can measure up to him, Wei Ying thinks. “Hey Lan Zhan, is this what you do while the rest of us are suffering in class?” he asks breezily, stripping off his shorts and boxers. Lan Zhan’s back remains resolutely turned. “Just swimming out here like a fish all day long? I bet I could beat you in a race.”

“There’s not … room here to race,” Lan Zhan says. He still won’t look.

“We’ll go down to Biling Lake next time,” Wei Ying challenges. “You can look at me now. The swimsuit’s on. I won’t offend your sensibilities.”

“I’m not offend—” Lan Zhan turns, and then something clips the edge of his word. He stares at Wei Ying like he’s got three heads.

“Oh, well, glad to hear, then.” Wei Ying sits down on the rock where Lan Zhan had been. “So. Mind if I take a dip?”

The coolness returns to Lan Zhan’s voice. “Suit yourself.” But he’s still staring at Wei Ying.

For just one moment, Wei Ying remembers all those earlier fantasies. That’s exactly the look he imagined on Lan Zhan’s face in those moments. The look where he can’t quite keep his anger in check. The look that says Wei Ying’s getting to him. Wei Ying has no idea how he is gettingto Lan Zhan in this moment, just sitting on a rock. Unless…

Nah, couldn’t be.

The next moment, Lan Zhan’s diving into the water. His body is an arc of movement, a single curved line, and Wei Ying loses his breath again. Apparently he needed to be reminded that Lan Zhan’s body is a flawless machine. His brain is pinging madly and he wants with all his heart to just drop into the water and swim for Lan Zhan like a shark. That would probably be a bad idea. He knows he probably has an advantage in an underwater tussle, but somehow, he doesn’t really want to win anymore.

Lan Zhan has emerged, in a shallow portion of the lake, his head and half his chest visible above the water line. He has eyes on Wei Ying. “Well?” he asks, something curiously hesitant in his voice.

“Well, what?” Wei Ying feels like he should be holding his breath. He’s careful to keep his voice casual.

Lan Zhan looks down, then to the side, then to him again. It’s a very un-Lan-like action. After a short silence, he ventures in what is almost – not quite -- a tentative voice, “Are you coming in?”

Wei Ying stares down at him. The silence that follows is pregnant with possibility.

“Wei-xiong!”

Nie Huaisang bursts first through the treeline, then, following him, the rest of the students in noisy gaggles. “Wei-xiong, how did you find this place so quickly? We all got turned around looking for it—”

Splashes sound here and there as the students find their way into the lake. Soon, the whole place is echoing with the sound of laughter and chatter. Wei Ying’s gaze finds Lan Zhan, through an increasingly dense thicket of people. Lan Zhan is looking at him with eyes that are almost sad. A moment later, he turns away.

It’s disappointing. Wei Ying had thought – perhaps imagined? – that there was something starting to happen there, something thawing in the relationship between them. He considers giving chase. But Lan Zhan is striding through the trees and disappearing before he can say a thing. So much for that.

Still, Wei Ying has an image he didn’t have before. Lan Zhan, dipped in gold, his body bare and his chin uplifted toward the sun. It’s printed in indelible ink on his mind now, along with a memory of Lan Zhan’s gaze, softer perhaps than Wei Ying has ever seen it. He closes his eyes and savors both the picture and the memory for a moment. Then, grinning, he rejoins his friends.

#notenoughgatorade #mdzs #mdzs fic #mdzs ficlet #wangxian #modern au #summer school au #cql #cql fic #cql ficlet #stuff tippy wrote

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scarletdawnxx-blog · 3 years ago

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Nightmare Chapter 3 Continuation of Bucky Barnes x Reader

You sat crossed legged on Bucky’s bed, a pillow across your lap, which Bucky’s head laid upon.

“Whatever you hear, don’t interrupt, don’t enter the room.” You told Steve who was standing over the two of you.

“That doesn’t make me feel good,” Bucky grumbled.

“It will be fine, but this will take a lot of concentration and it can’t be broken. If I pull out of his mind part way through, things could go,” You paused trying to find the right words, you could feel the nervousness in both of them. “Well not like how we would like them.” You finished. Steve nodded and left you to it, closing the door behind him.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Bucky asked. You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Of course, do you still want to go through with this?” He simply nodded.

You took a deep breath, placing your hands on either side of his head. Closing your eyes, you slipped into his mind. You instantly felt like you had just been dropped in a vast, churning sea, finding it hard to find your way up.

Concentrating harder, you searched for those memories from so long ago, when Hydra had first taken him. You could feel him fighting you, trying to push those memories further from you. But you followed that darkness pulling you deeper. There was so much darkness, and despair. Your heart felt like it was being ripped from your chest from all the pain. Sweat started to bead on your brow as you witnessed memory after memory, dark and cold and pain in all of them. What was worse was truly seeing what Bucky had endured. The brainwashing had indeed turned his body and mind into a perfect, obedient weapon, he truly had no control and had to sit back and watch himself commit all these terrible crimes, aware of everything he was doing but powerless to stop it, screaming trying to wake himself out of it. Tears were in both your eyes and you continued in deeper until finally you found them. The trigger words rooted deep into him. You knew this part was going to be painful for both of you. The words almost taking on a life of their own and digging deeper, not wanting to be removed. You were hoping to trick them, make them think you were alike.

Bucky’s breathing had become erratic, gritting his teeth down, trying not cry out. You couldn’t take this pain away, not while you were so deep in it with him, all your focus and power being used to pull these words out by the root. You’re not sure how long you were in there, or who the screams were coming from by the end, but you had pulled everything from his mind except one. Something you weren’t quite expecting. A kill safe word, to neutralize him in case he had gotten out of hand in those early days. You almost laughed when you saw the word flash in your mind. Sputnik. Say that word and he would fall into a deep sleep, reverting him back to Bucky from the Winter Soldier. You had a decision to make, do you leave it, in case it all your work was for nothing and you needed to stop him from hurting the others. Did they know about the safe word? Did Bucky? Surely it would have been talked about if the team knew. Bucky soon started thrashing under you and the word slipped from your grasp. You soothed his mind as you made your way back out, not fading out the memories from Hydra, you had talked and the info those memories gave was too vital to remove, but you unhitched the emotions from them, took away the guilt. You could feel his own sense of calm over taking yours and something else, something you hadn’t felt when you first entered his mind. A warm glowing feeling. It had been so small it had been swallowed by everything else, but now, you could feel it wholly. It felt like someone calling you home. It was all safe and good and love, you realized. He loved someone. You didn’t pry further, he deserved some secrets. You gently removed your hand from him and wiped your tear-stained face. Bucky still lay there, having fallen into a calm sleep, his mind exhausted. You opened his bedroom door to see Steve, Natasha and Sam sitting outside.

“How is he?” Steve asked concerned jumping up and peering over your shoulder into the room.

“Sleeping.” You said quietly looking back at him over your shoulder.

“Do you think it worked?” he asked as you closed the door behind you.

“I think so, we will need to test it later, but now, let him rest. His mind will need time.” You said wrapping your arms around yourself feeling cold, deep in your bones. “How long was I in there?”

“It’s been hours, we weren’t concerned until the screams started.” Natasha said standing up from her spot on the floor. “What happened in there?” she asked concerned.

“Let’s go down to the kitchen and talk, I could really use something to eat.” You told them jerking your head in that direction. They quietly nodded and the group of you made your way to the kitchen. Hours must have passed because as you approached the kitchen one of the many staff members was already preparing dinner. You settled yourself into a chair, Steve and Sam joining you, while Natasha busied herself making a cup of tea. The men just stared at you waiting for you to tell them what happened.

“It was difficult, the trigger words were deep rooted and had almost taken on a life of their own, they fought me, not wanting to be removed, but I think I did it. It was painful, for both of us.” You finished rubbing your arms, trying to warm yourself.

“How are you not exhausted?” Sam asked. “Normally you would be wiped out after using them for such an extended period of time.”

“I mean, I am tired, but I don’t feel drained. I guess all that training is paying off.” You shrugged your shoulders. Not really having an explanation.

“Or you are becoming more powerful than you thought you could be.” Natasha said setting a cup of hot tea in front of you. Taking it in your hands welcoming the warmth it gave you. That was a scary thought. How long before it got to be to much for you, before you may not be able to control it anymore, before someone decided to use it for their own gain.

“I think it would be best for everyone to not let that kind of news getting out,” Steve said leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

You nodded in agreement. It was your deepest fear, not that you would ever let them know that. You thought back on the paper you had read about genetic mutations, about the professor who had written the paper. Perhaps you should reach out to him. See if he had the answers, you were looking for. You looked at the people around you, they al l had explanations for their powers, Steve and Bucky with their super serum, Sam and Tony with their tech, Nat with her years of training and abuse in the red room. You were surrounded by gods and people exposed to elements that changed them, but nothing like that had ever happened to you. Just one day it fully awoke inside of you and now, your powers were taking off faster than you could really keep up with them, especially now that you were flexing that muscle more and more.

When Bucky finally emerged hours later, he found you sitting alone, the rest of the team having left for various task around the compound. Sitting around waiting for Bucky to wake up wasn’t helping anyone. But you had drifted so far off in your own mind they had left you to it, said you had done enough.

“Y/N” he said quietly, trying not to startle you.

“Hey Barnes, How are you feeling?” you asked giving him a small smile.

“You walked around my brain and I still can’t get you to call me Bucky,” he teased trying to make light of the whole situation.

“It’s not my fault that you have a ridiculous nickname.” You retorted and he sat down next to you. “But really, how are you feeling?” you asked again placing a hand on his arm, genuine concern etched on your face.

“I feel fine, lighter I guess, like I don’t have the weight of all those years on me.” He replied looking at your hand. You pulled it back quickly, not sure if after everything he was okay with the contact. “I’m guessing it worked then? What you did?” he asked still not really meeting your eyes, afraid of what he would see there. Disgust? Pity? Hate? Not knowing your heart ached to hold him close and not let him go.

“I think so but there is really only one way to find out. I know the words, we need to see if they still awaken what was buried deep in you.” You stood and made your way to the window, the sky turning shades of coral and lilac from the setting sun. “Whenever you’re ready that is.” You added turning slightly back to look at him over your shoulder. He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed.

“No time like the present right? We are this far down already, time to finish it.” Bucky replied and you turned to fully look at him. He was scared, you could feel it.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. can you gather the team to the interrogation rooms?” You asked the A.I. not looking away from Bucky. She located each member of the team on compound grounds and you and Bucky made your way towards the rooms you had been avoiding but it would be the safest place, nothing he could really break in there.

“So, we are really doing this?” Tony asked leaning against the far back wall of the observation room.

“He says he wants to get it over with,” You replied to Tony, seeing Bucky sitting in the room by himself. He looked so tired, you could see the extended years on him, how old his soul felt.

“I still say we should restrain him, you know, in case it didn’t work.”

“Absolutely not,” You clipped at him in a harsh tone. You knew Bucky had endured all of that torture while being strapped down and you wouldn’t let that happen to him again. Tony just threw his arms up in defeat. “Besides, Steve will be in there with me, in case something goes wrong.” You looked to Steve and he nodded, you both entering the room with Bucky.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y activate barn door protocol.” Stark Said and the facility locked down. Bucky looked to you and Steve.

“Just a precaution,” Steve said in a reassuring manner placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky half smiled, trying not to show his worry. “If you aren’t ready to do this we don’t have to do it right this second. No one would blame you if you weren’t ready. If you still needed time Buck.” Steve told him. It was true, the whole team knew that this would be hard for him, all expect Tony who just wanted it over with.

“No, Y/N worked to hard to not test it.” Bucky said finally looking at you. He could see it on you too, the worry and fear. It matched his own. But you were afraid for a different reason, you were afraid you had failed him, that you put his mind through all of that for nothing, that you couldn’t save him. All he saw was fear that the Winter Soldier and all he had done was in this small room with her, with only Steve standing between her and possible death. He quickly looked away. “Let’s get this over with,” he said straightening himself and swallowing down his fear, hardening himself against the emotions rolling around inside of him.

You wanted to say something but words had left you, what would you say to him anyways, the way he looked at you, it made your mouth go dry, gone were the feelings of friendship, the intimacy you had shared not but a few nights ago holding him tight after he had agreed to try this and it was replaced by something you couldn’t quite place. Everything he was feeling was so jumbled around.

“Желание” you began and he stiffened. “ржавый, семнадцать,” you continued. Bucky fought against the pull of the words, still remembering every life that had been taken. “рассвет, печь, девять,” Bucky ground his teeth, gripping the arms of the chair tightly, tears breaking free from his eyes. “доброкачественный, возвращение домой, один, грузовой вагон.” You finished and stared at him for a long moment, looking for any change, but he just looked at you with relief in his eyes. Your breath caught in your throat and you thought for a moment you would burst into tears along with him.

“Buck?” Steve asked cautiously.

Bucky looked at his friend and smiled standing from the chair. Steve took him into a tight hug. You wanted to go to him, to look into those eyes and know that he was free of all Hydra had done to him. To celebrate this moment with him. Instead, you quietly walked from the room, the rest of the team greeting you with praise but it all felt hollow somehow. But you smiled at them and made your excuses, the team joining Steve and Bucky. You walked quietly through the compound, the barn door protocol being lifted as you went, making your way to the large glass front of the building. Outside you could see Bruce talking with a red head you didn’t recognize, they both looked at you as you stepped into the cooling night air. Just then an elderly man in a wheel chair came into view.

“Hello, Y/N, I’m Professor Charles Xavier,” he said in a British accent, this was the man who wrote the research you had been reading. “I think we need to have a talk.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #marvel #marvel fanfiction #xmen #reader insert #Steve Rogers #tony stark #The Avengers #natsha romanoff #sam wilson #falcon and the winter soldier

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years ago

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3 Simple Rules for Dating a Centenarian

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 2374

Summary: After seeing Steve's shield handed over to some stranger, Sam calls up Bucky, certain he's the one person who can properly commiserate. He doesn't really expect Bucky to answer though (the guy's become a bit of a recluse), or to hear the hints that he might be missing Sam as much as Sam's been missing him. Not that he'd ever say it straight out.

Sam is almost completely still as the feelings rattle through him like a roller coaster’s last run on a derelict track. He only lets it out—the blend of frustration, betrayal, and regret—in the way his fingers squeeze his knee through his jeans, skin damp against the denim. Keeping his hands clasped, and watching those clasped hands, was more grounding, but he needs one of his hands to hold the phone to his ear, and that activity is getting pretty damn tired.

Bucky’s voicemail clicks on for the third time in a row.

“Bucky,” Sam says, “I know you prefer calls to texting, so what are you doing ignoring me, man? Haven’t used your cell in so long that you’ve forgotten how to hit the answer button? At least it rang. That’s something, I guess.”

He sighs away from the speaker where it won’t be recorded for Bucky to hear later. Maybe he did divert his message from the snarky sarcasm he was planning to leave the guy, but Bucky doesn’t need to hear him sigh on top of that.

For a few moments, Sam taps his foot along with the muffled music of his nephews’ video game coming through the closed door. He knows the boys’ routine (and if he ever forgets, he sees the copy Sarah has on the fridge door) and that this isn’t their usual scheduled time for whatever they’re playing out there. Best guess: Sarah wants them hogging the TV so she won’t be tempted to peek at that government-sanctioned shitshow. Sam can’t blame her. Actually, he wonders if she blames him. The disappointment was so clear in her eyes before he stopped making himself meet them. He thought he was doing the right thing when he handed the shield over. Are there people out there who think he’s let them down, or just his sister? Just himself?

He can’t talk to Sarah right now and he’s thankful that she’s giving him some time to himself, but as soon as he got it, he realized he didn’t know what to do with it. Just like that shield. Dialing Bucky over and over—tapping in every number every time because that appears to be part of this pity ritual he’s performing—seemed like the thing he should do. Probably won’t answer. That asshole is terrible at staying in touch. Still, Sam’s heart feels a little heavier with every word closer he gets to the end of this message. Feels like he’s trying to keep the thing afloat in his chest, like his parents’ boat down at the dock. This is what he knows he should do when everything in him wants to sink—reach out, talk to people. Kinda self-sabotage when he picks the one person almost guaranteed not to answer.

Oh, he’ll hear back from Bucky eventually, probably a handful of choppy texts sent in the middle of the night two weeks from now. Sam knows his pattern; Bucky’s chattiest between 3am and 4am, so chatty that what are likely intended as longer blocks of text arrive in broken fragments because he wants to make everything into neat paragraphs, like he’s writing a damn letter, instead of just getting to the point, but he hits send too soon. Sam would teach him—with plenty of mocking and name-calling, but he would teach him—only while he’s been running ops all over the planet, Bucky’s shrunk his own world way down. He’s gone local to the extreme and it aggravates Sam, even though Bucky isn’t his responsibility, isn’t his other inheritance from Steve. It’s sorta just easier to feel like Bucky is a misplaced bequest than to acknowledge that maybe he misses the guy and his sharp-shooter’s eye and his caveman hair. He can’t keep calling him.

“Thought I’d give you a heads-up,” Sam says, voice weary with this half-true excuse. “Maybe you already saw.” He clears his throat and says quickly, “Anyway, guess I’ll hear from you when I hear from you.”

He’s pulling the phone away from his head and has barely ended the call when it’s ringing in his hand. He answers and catches Bucky��s voice saying his name before it’s even back up to his ear.

“Bucky?” Sam says. “You have a senior’s moment and forget where you left your phone?”

“Nah,” Bucky says. “I saw it was you and decided to ignore it.”

“But you called back.”

“You wouldn’t quit calling. Seemed like you needed me to tell you directly to knock it off.”

“Jackass.” Sam’s gaze darts to the door, but it’s still shut. No chance Sarah saw him grinning over this easy banter. Always the banter with this idiot. Always easy. He sniffs and turns his chair away from the black TV screen. “Did you see that joker on the news?”

Bucky’s either less self-conscious or more inept because he sighs right into the mouthpiece, an exhausted breath in Sam’s ear that has his fingers fleetingly digging into his knee.

“Couldn’t believe that shit,” Bucky tells him in a rough voice. He’s clearly holding back his own feelings about today’s events and, from the sounds of it, they’re more along the lines of anger, hurt, and a simmering desire to wrench the shield from the arm of the new Captain America. “You know that thing’s supposed to be yours.”

“You saying I should’ve done something to stop it?” Sam demands.

“Coulda.”

Sam forces his shoulders to drop, draws a slow breath in and pushes it back out.

“It wasn’t mine anymore, if it ever was. I gave it to the Smithsonian. They sealed it in this glass case and added it to the exhibit.”

“Not a very tight seal.”

“Guess not,” Sam agrees.

“You shouldn’t have turned it over,” Bucky says. Sam’s silent, frowning, and Bucky goes on. “Forget about the shield being given to somebody else—it shouldn’t have even been in a glass case. Doesn’t belong there.”

“I do just fine without it,” Sam assures him. The practicalities of carrying that shield around are more straightforward to discuss than his yawning uncertainty in the face of Steve’s legacy and his place relative to it. “The shield would only get in the way of the wings.”

“You and those wings.”

“Hey, they carried me over Tunisia recently. Show some respect.”

“Didn’t hear about that,” Bucky says in a tone that’s difficult to interpret, though Sam squints thoughtfully as he listens.

“Yeah, well, I shouldn’t even be telling the likes of you, but it was discrete. As far as the major players are concerned, I was never there.”

“So it was illegal?”

Sam’s head tips back as he laughs hard.

“Why, you wanna turn me in?” he jokes. “Working on the government’s trust? What’s the next level up from a pardon? Knighthood?”

“You are such a pain in the ass,” Bucky groans, which really does make Sam smile.

“I’m sure it would’ve been illegal if you were there,” he says automatically. Too fast, his imagination fills it in, a fictional alternative materializing in his mind. Him and Bucky, cocky in reckless freefall. Him and Bucky, fighting back-to-back in a plummeting aircraft. Sam screening Bucky from enemy fire with his wings. Bucky deflecting a stray bullet with his arm before it could hit Sam.

“Nah, I can’t do that no more.”

“Uh huh. I’m sure you’re an angel.”

“Anybody get hurt?” Bucky asks.

Sam glances through the window at the blue sky, the truck rolling unhurriedly past with the driver’s arm hanging out to catch the sun. Beautiful day. He remembers a kick that sent a guy through the door of the plane, sucked out into the sky, another guy tossed aside who tried to fight him in midair, and a helicopter aflame as it went down. He shrugs and figures Bucky’ll hear the gesture in his voice.

“Nobody who didn’t know the risks.”

“Of going up against Captain America?” Bucky probes. Sam rolls his eyes.

“You know, that would almost be a compliment if you got my name right.”

“Don’t tell me you’re not using the name just to avoid compliments from me.”

“I honestly can’t say which one would feel more wrong,” Sam says, passing a hand over his head as he leans back in his chair, “calling myself Captain America or hearing a little overdue praise from you.”

“I’m not really a words guy. Ask my therapist.”

Sam sits with that for a second. He’s happy that Bucky’s talking to someone. He needs it, badly, after decades of violence and being belted into the passenger seat of his own brain. It’s more than Bucky’s ever admitted to him before, but Sam would bet—and bet big—that seeing some stranger named as Steve’s successor today has gotten to Bucky as much as it’s gotten to him. Something like that is bound to open Bucky up a little. He’s the only other person Sam can imagine the news having such a monumental impact on.

“You could try words,” he goads, not wanting to leave Bucky hanging more than a few seconds after his admission. “What else do you have if you don’t feel like being a human action figure?”

“I have my system. My rules.”

“Oh yeah? What rules?”

“Three of ’em,” Bucky informs him. “Nothing illegal. Nobody gets hurt. Making amends for the actions of the Winter Solider.”

“You don’t have to make amends for something you—”

“Don’t. It… helps.”

And who is Sam to question what’s helping Bucky? After the multiple-lifetimes’ worth of hell the guy’s been through?

“Good for you, man,” Sam offers softly.

“Save it, Sam.” The words are clipped but light. Sam grins.

“No words for me either? You more comfortable with me sticking to actions? How are we supposed to talk to each other when you don’t come to Tunisia with me?”

“Wasn’t invited,” Bucky quips back.

“You mighta been if you answered your phone more often. I’m not gonna send you the details to a covert operation in a text.��

“You wanted me in Tunisia?”

“You get shit done,” Sam acknowledges simply. You wanted me in Tunisia? echoes in his head. His heart’s bobbing like a buoy now. You wanted me in Tunisia? You wanted me?

“Not like that.”

“‘Not illegal,’” Sam repeats. “‘Nobody gets hurt. Making amends.’”

“Right. Can’t do any of that.”

“Well, I’m glad this regime’s working for you, but you have to admit it’s weird that I saw more of you when we were fighting alien hordes.”

“What can I say?” Bucky asks in a tone that seems to consciously flatten the charm out of it. “I’m old-fashioned now.”

Sam snorts.

“You were old-fashioned then.”

“I assume you had a team on the ground.”

“I had to,” Sam says over the sound of a squabble in the other room. Immediately, he can hear Sarah’s voice rising slightly above, breaking it up. Just like that, there’s the looping music of the video game again. She’s raised those boys well. “Couldn’t wait around for you.”

“I might show up if you asked me on better dates.”

“It wasn’t a date, it was a goddamn op.”

It’s startling to hear the sound of laughter. Not hearty, deep, rich, or loud, but definitely laughter. Bucky laughs? Sam backtracks a minute. Bucky makes jokes? About dating? About the two of them dating? Evidently, that is something he’s capable of, along with returning calls during daylight hours.

Sam shifts in his seat.

“You could come around sometime,” he suggests, nervously rubbing a hand up and down his thigh. “If you like fish and you’re ever in Louisiana.”

“I do like fish,” Bucky says. “I’ve been going to this sushi place a lot lately.”

It’s not his taste that surprises Sam—it’s the readiness with which he responds to the invitation. He would’ve sooner guessed that Bucky would tell him to shove it up his ass. In a joking way, but still.

“On dates?” Sam asks, telling himself he’s providing some good-natured hassling and that it has nothing to do with the odd feeling he got when Bucky’s joke about them dating caught up with him.

“One. Mostly, I go with Mr. Nakajima.”

“And that’s not a date?”

Sam laughs and wishes he could shut his own mouth as firmly as he’s (many times) told Bucky to shut his.

“I’m pretty sure he’s in his eighties, so he’s more age-appropriate for me than most people, but I murdered his son,” Bucky says grimly.

“Amends?” Sam guesses, adjusting his tone to cope with Bucky’s emotional switchback.

“I haven’t told him yet, but, yeah, I’m working on that.”

They’re both working on something, Sam thinks. Both confronting something that feels too big to tackle—the decision not to announce himself as the new Captain America, guilt for assassinations Bucky had no control over but which span the better part of a century. Sometimes it seems to Sam that they go up against the easiest situations as a team and face the hardest stuff alone. But he called Bucky, and Bucky called back.

“You could bring some of those amends down here and trade them for a snapper dinner,” Sam proposes, aiming for irritatingly cheerful to pull Bucky back out of the dark.

“What do I have to make amends to you for?”

“Being a dick. I’ll text you my sister’s address.”

Sam swiftly ends the call. There are two possible sources to which he can attribute the small surge of adrenaline he feels: hanging up on Bucky and the fact that he might’ve just asked him on a date. When Sam dialed, he knew it was because he didn’t want to do this alone, but he thought that meant watching the appointment of an upstart Captain America. Although he believed he could count on Bucky’s understanding today and for the near future, asking him down to have dinner with Sarah and the boys (or tricking him into it, since he didn’t exactly say it’d be a thing with the whole family) lengthens the timeline. Near future? Inviting Bucky to meet his family and see where he grew up means recognizing that he’ll be in his life a little longer. Alone? Sam might forget the meaning of the word.

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #sambucky #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

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ghstandpucks · 4 years ago

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Cutting Edge ~ Nathan MacKinnon Ch.1

A/N: Hi everyone! Thanks for reading the prologue of this story and for your feed back! I loved hearing from you! Now I just hope this lives up to the expectations lol I would love to hear feedback on this chapter! Enjoy!

Prologue

You were on your last handful of boxes as you walked into your new Denver apartment. You were about 10 minutes from the rink in a cute brick building. Large windows let in rays of sunshine as the warm September day came to an end. The downtown Denver lights where starting to come on as people milled about. You slowly unloaded some boxes; thankful the apartment came semi furnished with at least a couch, dining table and bed. You didn’t mind though, having an apartment back home in Anaheim, California, most of your stuff just came with you. What you didn’t need you either sold or took to your parent’s house to store it. You grew up only half an hour from Anaheim, and moved to an apartment there when you were 17. You had graduated high school early, and moved closer for training to focus on making the Olympic team. At first your mom had stayed with you, the both of you going home on weekends. Then at 18, your parents thought it was fine for you to be on your own, seeing as they weren’t too far away. On the other hand, moving to Colorado by yourself was going to be an adjustment.

Sunday morning you got up early and began your day at the grocery store. After unloading, you continued to unpack. Around 3 in the afternoon, there was a knock at your door. Opening it, you saw a package on the ground with your name on it. Taking it into your kitchen, you went about cutting the tape to open it. Inside was dark blue fabric with a card addressed to Coach Y/L/N. Opening the card, it read “Welcome to the Colorado Avalanche Coach Y/L/N. I hope you made it to Denver safely. We are looking forward to having you work with us this season. See you on Monday at 7am!” ~ Jared Bednar.

You pulled the fabric out and found that it was the warm up/sweat suits that the coaches wear for practice. The jacket was embroidered with Coach Y/L/N on the upper right, and the Avs logo on the left. You smiled to yourself and ran to your room to try it on. Looking in the mirror, you could not help but laugh. The pants were just a little long and looked baggy, but you figured it was meant for men, and hockey players at that. Not your typical leggings or skirts for figure skating. Picking up your phone, you facetimed one of your best friends/ older brother figure, Jeremy Abbott. “JER!” you yelled as he answered.

“Y/N! There is my favorite little superstar!” He yelled back just as happy. The two of you had always been close. You met at your first senior worlds competition while you worked with the same choreographer that he did that year. He took to showing you the ropes of the competition and took you under his wing. You were each other’s biggest supporters, with you even standing in for his coach at a few competitions. “Check out the threads!” he laughed as you modeled your new outfit for him through the mirror.

“The pants are kind of baggy, but isn’t it awesome! I feel so official!” you squealed, overly excited.

“I’m sure you can opt out of wearing those if you wanted to,” Jeremy suggested, unpacking one of his boxes. He was set to work with the Minnesota Wild this season.

“Probably. But I at least want to show up tomorrow with everything on to show I appreciate it. I definitely was not expecting this,” you replied.

“True. At least you got a whole outfit! I only got a t-shirt,” Jeremy laughed. You talked a bit longer with each other before saying your good bye’s and good lucks for tomorrow.

Waking up the next morning, you were nervous but excited for this new experience. You put your coach’s outfit on, straightened your Y/H/C hair, and put on a little makeup. From always wearing a tone of makeup for competitions, on a daily bases you didn’t like to wear much. Most days you just threw on some foundation and mascara. You wanted to look nice for your first day with the Avs, but not like you were trying to hard. To be honest, you were looking forward to meeting the team, but you knew things had to stay professional because of the position you were in. And if you wanted to be a good spokesperson and liaison for the organizations, you had to remain professional. From training in Anaheim, you were friends with some of the Ducks, so you didn’t think it would be too difficult to work with the Avs.

Upon arriving at the rink, Coach Bednar was waiting for you with a few others. Not only did it look like other coaches, but media people as well. You smiled as you walked up to them. “Good morning!” you spoke cheerfully.

“Good morning Y/N. It’s good to see you again,” Bednar shook your hand as you walked over, a few pictures being taken. You were relieved when you saw that they were all wearing the same outfit as you. While you got ready this morning a thought crossed your mind that maybe they didn’t wear them and you would be left looking like you were trying to hard. After being introduced to the other coaches and taking a quick group photo in front of the rink, you followed Bednar as he showed you around. “And one more thing,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “Now you are official,” he smiled, handing you a whistle. You were slightly embarrassed over how excited you became putting it around your neck. As you went to thank him, a voice came from behind you.

“So you must be our figure skater!” You whipped around to see a handsome man with a charming smile on his face. “Gabriel Landeskog,” he held out his hand to shake. You smiled and shook it.

“Y/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you,” you replied.

“Gabe is our team captain. The guys shouldn’t cause you any trouble, but Gabe will be looking out for you also,” Bednar said.

“Of course. If you need anything just ask Coach Y/L/N,” Gabe nodded.

“Thank you, I appreciate it. I’m looking forward to working with you all,” you stated. Gabe walked away to the locker room laughing to himself. Walking in, he went right over to Nate.

“Oh you are screwed,” he joked. Nate looked up at him with concern.

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused by Gabe’s statement.

“I mean, if you thought our figure skater was attractive on the video, which I’m pretty positive you did, you’re going to fall when you meet her. She’s adorable and I’m sure Mel will want to adopt her at some point,” he whispered so no one around them would hear. Nate couldn’t help the redness that started to creep up the back of his neck. So Gabe had caught his look the other day. He was trying to think of something to say as Bednar walked in.

“Get ready and let’s go gentlemen. You all have a new face to meet and she’s already out on the ice,” he chuckled, before leaving the room to head to the ice himself. Gabe sent Nate a wink as he went to put his own skates on.

One by one the team filed out of the locker room and out on the ice. You were standing around center ice listening to the coaches talk and getting to know them better. They seemed welcoming enough, which was comforting. You tried not to pay too much attention to the team skating a few warm up laps around you, forcing yourself to be actively engaged in the conversation the coaches were having. You could feel your heart start to beat a bit faster though as the nerves sank in. What if they didn’t like you and this whole program failed? Trying to shake off the negative thoughts, you forced a soft smile on your face just as you were taught when you first stepped onto the ice all those years ago. No matter what happens, you smile.

Coach Bednar blew his whistle and the team started to gather in front of him, taking a knee. You turned to the team as you stood behind the head coach, in line with the others. You tried to avoid any prolonged eye contact as you swept over the team briefly. Nate on the other hand was having a difficult time listening to what Bednar was saying as he stared at you. He wasn’t the only one, others were also trying to size you up and figure you out. How much of the girl they saw in the clip were you in real life? As you stood there in the baggy coach’s outfit and your hair pulled into a ponytail, the only thing that seemed to resemble that girl was the smile you offered them. Eventually, Bednar finished what he was saying and turned toward you, motioning for you to join him. You glided over and placed your toe pick in the ice to stop, a slight motion that did not go unnoticed by a bunch of hockey players who had no toe picks. “This is Coach Y/L/N. I’ve already told you guys a bit about her, but why don’t you introduce yourself,” Bednar said to you. You nodded and your smile brightened a small amount. Here’s the performance.

“Hi guys! My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m excited to be here with you all and I look forward to getting to know you and working with you. Um, I am the liaison for this program and partnership between the NHL and USFS, so if you have any questions about it feel free to ask me. I can pretty much answer whatever you want to know as I attended like every meeting and helped coordinate it all. And…yeah. I’m just happy to be here and excited to see how this goes,” You said, holding your hands behind your back to hide how much they were shaking. You may be the spokesperson and speak frequently at events, but that didn’t mean you were always comfortable doing so. You glanced around and were relieved to see some smiles, even if they were toothless ones. That was when you caught the eye of number 29. He gave you a soft grin and looked away, almost as if he had been caught. Nate was thankful he had a helmet on so no one could point out the redness creeping its way into his face.

~ ~ ~

About an hour later, you had a group of about 8 players with you. Since you had to get to know everyone’s skating strengths and weaknesses before you could move forward with a plan of action to improve their skating, you ran them through a basic drill to see which edge and side they stopped and turned momentum on quicker. As you were watching their footwork intently, Nate was watching you, and Gabe was watching him. The captain had never seen his friend so interested in someone so quickly.

You turned back to the group in a sharp movement after watching Kadri go through the drill and did not pay attention to your own foot placement. Before you knew it, the back of your blade got caught up in the baggy sweats by your other foot and you stumbled forward. Thankfully, from years of skating you had quick reflexes and righted yourself within a second, letting out an embarrassed giggle. You weren’t the only one with quick reflexes though as you saw at least 5 pairs of gloved hands lunge toward you to keep you upright. “You ok?” Nate asked. He had lunged the closest to you, something that did not go unnoticed by Gabe, or the others for that fact.

“I’m fine, thanks. These things are too baggy. I’m not used to skating in sweats,” you replied, smiling at him and thanking the cold air of the ice rink for already turning your cheeks pink, and not just from embarrassment. You locked eyes with the center, and as his concern turned into a soft smile, you couldn’t help the butterflies that seemed to take flight in your stomach. It seemed like a Hallmark movie moment, until someone spoke up and ruined it.

“You could always just take them off,” a voice suggested. You looked up with raised eyebrows to find Tyson Jost looking horrified at the words that he had just uttered. “I didn’t mean it that way! I am so sorry. I meant that you could, like, wear something else. But definitely still wear something. And…”

“Laps, now” Gabe gave a slight shove to Tyson and the hockey player took off with one more ‘sorry’ being uttered over his shoulder. Gabe then turned back to you.

“He didn’t mean that in a negative way,” he tried to explain for his teammate. You broke into a smile and laughed lightly.

“I know. It was kind of fun to watch him sputter though,” you shrugged. Gabe looked shocked. He didn’t think you would take this so lightly, with it being your first day and not knowing everyone’s personality yet. Everyone else started to laugh as they gave Jost a hard time as he came back around.

“I think you are going to fit in just fine here coach,” Gabe chuckled. You smiled at him and the rest of the players who were laughing as well, nodding along. You turned your attention back to Nate who was still standing next to you and giggled as he sent you a quick wink before skating back to his teammates. Yeah, you think your going to like it here.

tags: @bqstqnbruin

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl fic #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon x reader #nate mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon x reader #cutting edge #colorado avalanche imagine

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manyblinkinglights · 4 years ago

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MY PERSONAL TAKE ON UNITY-”HUMANOID” FERAL AVATAR RIGGING FOR VRCHAT

First of all: this is actually not that bad. If you avoid the many pitfalls I will lay out for you in this tutorial, the worst thing about the hookup process is the same thing that’s bad about everything in Unity: dragging the little thingies into their little boxies gets kind of tedious.

NUMBERED LIST:

1. Start with Rigify’s meta-human.

2. Modify it by deleting extra bones, and

3. altering the hips and legs and shoulders for compatibility with VRChat’s full-body IK, as per Kung’s YouTube tutorial.

4. Build your quad model around the head, neck, chest, spine, and hips of your Humanoid.

5. Lock your Humanoid legs and arms out of weight painting.

6. Rig your quad model, and

7. Get it into Unity.

8. Start putting rotation constraints on all/most of your quad model’s bones (I’ll tell you TWO BIG SECRETS). edit: I forget what two things were supposed to be the secrets. Pick whichever two things helped you most and let’s just call those the secrets.

9. Build and test your avatar, then start tweaking your constraint weights until you get the effect you want!

ADVICE:

part A: You can test an activated quad leg rotation constraint directly in your scene by applying it, and then grabbing your humanoid thigh or shin transform and rotating that, but YOU HAVE TO CTRL-Z IMMEDIATELY AFTERWARDS. NEVER apply a rotation constraint to a bone that’s been left out of its default position!

part B: Always, always, ALWAYS and only, only ONLY work on your Armature in Blender from full X, Y, or Z isometric view with X-mirroring on.

KNOWN LIMITATIONS:

The levelling bone in your backbone always points directly back, relative to root, from the user’s hips; they twist up and leave it behind if they turn from side to side too far, all the way around, or, god forbid, hit VRCEmote 6 (backflip). You cannot sexy poledance or flop onto the couch in this style of avatar without making a spectacle of yourself.

If there’s some crazy calculus that’d spit out the exact right leg lengths and constraint weights to perfectly eliminate foot-vs-floor clipping at every height, I do not know it. There are just too many variables at play; put whatever leg lengths onto your quad that it requires, and then try to come up with rough, biomechanically-inspired values for your constraint weights such that your quad feet wind up near the same elevation as your Humanoid core’s feet when you enter the Humanoid sit position. If you do this your end result will be PRETTY DARN GOOD at standing and bending/dancing heights, but it WILL get squirrelly as you approach crouch. That’s just the way it is; in fact I recommend replacing the prone and crouch animation blendtrees with the standing ones. While this tutorial will generate an avatar that crouches and crawls around prone okay/amusingly, you do get sent into the floor in crouch/prone and there simply isn’t anything to be done about it.

There is also NO WAY to migrate rotation constraints from one avatar to another. You can copy a fully-constrained avatar and hot-swap in your own edited mesh, but you (basically) CAN’T EDIT bones in an already-constrained armature without turning it all into spaghetti.

ONE.

You need a working, full-body-tracking compatible biped skeleton to start with. But... there aren’t any out there (that I’m aware of) to start with, so I recommend scaling up a meta-human out of the Rigify add-on for Blender... here’s a guy walking you through that bit of it: https://youtu.be/DS885Sk1gSs?t=30 (we will not be making an “animation rig,” we are just getting a human-shaped Armature into the project with almost all of its bones named correctly already. So just do that part.)

TWO.

...and then deleting the face stuff, some other stuff, and the extra four non-finger hand bones out of each hand (make sure not to accidentally nuke part of your thumb, like me, because you might not notice until way later that you’ve given yourself a stumpy single-jointed thumb). You want to go from this:

To this:

I mean, I guess you could leave them, but too many useless bones will come back to bite you later if Unity decides it can’t figure your shit out and makes you drag every. single. handbone. into. the L and R hand slots yourself. Set yourself up for success and don’t skip this deletion step. Also, now’s the time to rename your hips -> spine -> chest -> neck -> head chain, since Rigify has them all as like spine01 spine02 etc.

Your penultimate guy:

THREE.

Now modify its thighs and hips as per Kung’s tutorial: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2sfTEBAl8sA

Basically, for this armature in particular you need the tops of the thigh bones to be below the entire hip bone, as follows:

AND you need the hip bone to be above the thigh bones (Rigify’s is too far back). Personally, I got good results from just grabbing my legs and scooting them backward.

If you DON’T do this, PC people and three-point tracking people will still be able to use your avatar fine. But full-body people’s hips will jut forward in a super fucked up way. IF YOU FOLLOW THIS TUTORIAL EXACTLY and include a BEND bone, this will be a problem. IF YOU CUT CORNERS and disregard the BEND bone (and/or you choose to lock the hips out of weight painting--valid), you can skip this step. But you seriously might as well do it.

IMPORTANT! The lengths and angles of your bones here determine, in part, the later behavior & vivacity of your finished model. I like this modified Rigify base because VRChat’s IK makes it nice and lively. If you use a different Humanoid base, like a ramrod straight turbocompatible one, or a cool but non-fullbody-compatible style one (hey, go for it! PC and three-point tracking people have rights too!) the flavor of your animations later on will be different!

FOUR. Build your model around the head, neck, chest, spine, and hips of your inner Humanoid! Don’t hold me liable for anything that happens to you if you change the armature proportions, but based on this one time I helped a kid hook up their quad horse, you can get acceptable/interesting non-full-body-compatible behavior if you do change them (to perfectly follow your cool dragon neck or whatever). I will continue on as if you did not change them! Anyway, do your thing. If you’ve got someone else’s mesh for this step, do your best to pose it in a neutrally upright standing position, and then put the Humanoid in it like they’re the front half of a horse costume, scaling the whole rig up and down as necessary. Again, ANY CHANGES YOU MAKE TO THE PROPORTIONS OF THE HUMANOID RIG WILL CHANGE YOUR ANIMATIONS LATER, and break full-body compatibility if you go too far! Here’s mine, see the little guy in there? Try to pick him out from the rest of the rigging:

Your head needs to be placed so it does a good job aiming its head/so you can set the view orb so you more or less see out its eyes, and your neck, chest, spine, and hips should be in its neck and forequarters, but your legs and feet DON’T have to match up with your quad forelegs or forefeet! Your quad feet can be anywhere relative to your Humanoid ones so long as your quad is in its symmetrical, neutral standing posture.

You can see that mine are a bit in front. It’s fine.

FIVE. Parent the mesh to the armature (or uhhh is it the other way around? Whichever way around it is, do it) with empty groups. Go into your Vertex Groups panel and lock out the limbs--that’s shoulders, upper arms, forearms, hands and fingers, thighs, lower legs, feet, and toes. You want them zero and kept at zero (unless your want your arms for a taur).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rG82fogtuCg WATCH THE ABOVE VIDEO IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY. :V You can run the auto weight paint from here and/or start dinking around with weight painting your quad’s neck however is most comfortable for you if you want, but you still need to

SIX. rig your quad model! Okay, here’s the one big rule for your grounded legs (wings and funky lil extra limbs that just wave around can do whatever):

you must leave your Rigify legs straight up and down, no angling outwards, and YOUR QUAD LIMBS MUST BE STRAIGHT UP AND DOWN, NO ANGLING OUTWARDS.

See mine:

You don’t have to have them all perfectly in line from the front like I do, you could have your legs be set at any widths (say, wider stance in the armature hind legs than in the Humanoid ones, if your quad has wider hips), but they HAVE to all be exactly straight up and down, just like the Humanoid legs are. I tried matching my actual gryphon limb angles like in normal rigging once, and it resulted in incorrect foot placement/limb angles when standing neutrally (because VRChat’s neutral stance is not a perfect T- or A-pose). It’s fine if they’re different heights, though--here’s a side picture where you can see that my hind legs are lots taller, and my forelegs a little taller, than those of my Humanoid core:

Okay so maybe this belongs up there under FIVE. but, since you CANNOT add any jaunty character to your quad by adding naturalistic/sideways angling in its armature, the mesh, instead, must deviate from the armature to give you the illusion of a jaunty stance, and I DO recommend doing (just a little of) this. Your bones don’t HAVE to be in the center of your mesh volumes to still work okay, especially when they’re only serving as relatively-restricted legs (knees don’t twist, and neither do a bunch of quad bones driven by them). So, feel free to “pose” your quad legs in an interesting way around their upright bones, especially when it comes to giving your hind legs a different character from your front ones. Otherwise it’ll be way more obvious they’re rigidly linked, despite their different proportions. I recommend angling the apparent set of your hind legs out just a little, so your hind feet seem to be set wider than your front ones.

Not only does this help give each set of your legs its own character, to help with the illusion that they’re actuating totally differently, and that these are definitely your own original character do not steal’s full custom animations and not VRChat’s default ones--but your back legs are going to be operating the reverse of your front legs. This means that when the wearer adopts a wide stance, with their feet well apart from each other (as in many dances), YOUR BACK LEGS WILL CROSS. The amount of space I left between my gryphons’ hind legs, above, accommodates the normal amount of moving around that people do pretty well, but be advised that making a beautiful character with its hind legs neatly, narrowly posed might hit you with some heartbreak later! (You could get around this by instead rigging your quad to have its forelegs be the reversed ones, but this might be a little disconcerting for a fullbody wearer; or you could give yourself a “pacing” gait, where both your front and back left legs step forward at once, but this is a glaringly visible design choice for the kinds of people who notice these things. If you do this, make it a choice, not what-you-did-because-it-turned-out-you-had-no-choice.)

(I did a bunch of bogus shit to make it so I could switch between regular locomotion and a pacing gait, but that’s outside the scope of this tutorial.)

Now, your BOB, LEVEL, and BEND bones!

BOB: Somewhere on your armature, put an unparented bone (any size) along your midline called BOB. (I put mine below my hips and called it dingle.dangle.) Ever ported a model in and left something unparented accidentally? Remember how it disconcertingly gets “left behind”? Well, we’re using that phenomenon to our advantage! BOB will be our rotation reference bone for LEVEL and BEND.

LEVEL: So, LEVEL. Your quad’s back/torso should be/have one big bone coming out of the back of your Humanoid hips, call it LEVEL. It should be the parent for all your quad’s limbs, except for anything you have coming out of the head or neck (idk, whiskers, chinwings, whatever).

BEND: BEND is optional, but recommended; a bone that also sticks out the back of your hips, and stretches out more or less to the end of your ribcage, maybe to the middle-ish of your ribcage. Mine is parallel to the floor but that doesn’t matter much, and weighted at around strength .4 to the ribcage behind my shoulders, a little bit of the back of my shoulders where they meet my body, and tapering off towards my waist. Basically when you wiggle this bone up and down, it should arch and bow your back a little bit, over the top of your other weight paints, in whatever way is visually acceptable to you. Mine does this:

SEVEN.

Now, into Unity. Navigating Unity is mostly beyond the scope of this tutorial, but if you can add a VRC Avatar Descriptor, you can add a rotation constraint. It works the same, you just go find the bone (”transform”) in the hierarchy that you want and add a rotation constraint component to it.

So, get your .fbx out of Blender and into your Assets folder or whatever. Click on it and go to Import Settings, set it as Humanoid, apply, configure. Pick out and add all the bones of your Humanoid armature to the Humanoid panel (if it hasn’t autopopulated--it might!), reset your pose and then enforce T-pose if necessary, delete the reference to Jaw, put Chest in and make sure there’s no Upper Chest, etc., all the usual things. You should see a little green T-posing person in the forequarters of your quad! Hit Done and you’re done. (Look up ordinary VRChat avatar 3.0 import tutorials if you’re having trouble with this step; you’re Humanoid at this point already, same as anybody). Now drag your newly-confirmed-for-Humanoid .fbx into your scene. Open up its hierarchy and look for the LEVEL bone; it should be under hips. Put a rotation constraint on this bone (click on it, Add Component button, search “rotation” or “constraint,” pick Rotation Constraint). Click the little plus to add a target, and drag BOB in there from the hierarchy. Leave the strength 1 above and 1 below (the 1 below will always be left alone at 1 unless specified otherwise), and click Activate. There! You did it! Now your whole entire ass won’t wave around!! You can hop right in and Test Avatar if you want--your head and neck will be the only things that move while your legs will all be stiff like a piñata, but by god, your back will be staying level. Try crouching and going prone!

Enjoy this first, sweet taste of quad success if you’ve gotten this far, because there are many, many ways to screw the rest of this process up, and even with me guiding you, you might find some brand new ones. Applying a rotation constraint correctly is as easy as above, but here are some pitfalls: if you move any bones in Unity with active constraints on them, or bones upstream of an active constraint, they get fucked up. If you activate a constraint on a bone that’s been moved, moving the bone back afterwards will fuck the constraint up. LEAVE YOUR MODEL IN ITS DEFAULT POSE AT ALL TIMES, UNLESS YOU’VE MADE SURE TO SWITCH TO GAME MODE. (Sometimes you get lucky and you can rescue a ruined bone by deactivating its constraint and then going to Modified Component -> Revert on the transform itself. But don’t count on it.)

If you change any values within a constraint while it is active, it gets fucked up. Uncheck “Is Active” before modifying any constraint!

But wait, there’s more! If you hot-swap your model (minimize Unity, open Blender, do edits, export your new .fbx, delete your old .fbx in the save dialog and replace it with your new .fbx, WAIT A FEW SECONDS because opening Unity in the middle of the hotswap borks everything, maximize Unity, it thinks for a second, then accepts your new model while hey presto preserving your rotation constraints), AFTER ARMATURE EDITS, so, again, if yo-- if you--*about to sneeze voice*--

If you hot-swap your model after armature edits, the whole thing can get fucked up and you might have to re-apply all your rotation constraints again.

hhhhh that’s better. Now, you MAY hot-swap your model after wholesale bone additions and deletions, but rotation-constrained armatures lose their tiny minds if you change constrained bone lengths, positions, or angles!

Moving on! You just did LEVEL, now let’s do BEND.

BEND is constrained at .5 strength to BOB. Add a rotation constraint to BEND, set the strength to .5, hit the plus, drag in BOB. (Dial your reflexes in on this sequence because you are going to be doing it a lot.) The purpose of BEND is to bring a little life to your otherwise ramrod-stiff quad spine; you can experiment with strengths (of weight paint, of constraint weight, of bone length) but I recommend you try copying me to start. So that’s: BEND, a bone sticking out to about the end of your ribcage, weight painted at .4 or so to your ribcage and gradienting smoothly away, constrained to your unparented bone BOB at .5 strength (waving around without any constraint put too much wiggle in my gryphon).

BOB, LEVEL, and BEND are the major engines behind my quad rigging giving an acceptable effect! You don’t need to throw $90 at Final IK if you’ve got some time on your hands and BOB, LEVEL, and BEND. :)

Now for ALL THE REST OF YOUR LIMBS!

A note before we begin. Unity rotation constraints can’t ever go past 1:1, that is, there is no way to “amplify” a motion to make it a bigger one. You can only approach parity with the reference motion, never exceed it. The clearest example I can think of is a tail. My tail is six bones, and I thought I could constrain each one to the head at .1 and they’d “stack” and make it so a small motion of my head would put an attractive curl in my tail. Lol, nope. The first one rotated the tail .1, the ones that followed each inherited that .1 rotation from their parent and had their constraints satisfied, and did nothing, and I had a tail that barely moved at all. (Blender’s bone constraints work differently and allow this kind of amplification; you can also test things out in there, but I could never figure out which settings would give me Unity-like behavior.) So, with that in mind, bring up a gait cycle of your target animal. If a video is too confusing, look for some static images (like an animator’s gait cycle) that show the gait. Try to see which bones rotate the most, and which rotate noticeably less. Use this to inform your constraint weight values later. If you picked a static image, you can even measure the rotations throughout the cycle to see which move most and least! I don’t know enough to use exactly specific language here, so, to the extreme literalists in my audience.... sorry about what I just said. If you find your ability to magically pick up on what I mean is poor, I’ll just give you my gryphon numbers later! Or you could just try some stuff, like having every bone at max strength & seeing what happens, and then picking just one to turn down to .5 strength and testing again. That should clarify the concept for you quickly.

Alternatively, the quick-and-dirty “I’m NOT HERE to acquire any sensitivities I don’t ALREADY HAVE” test is to just try to get your quad feet as close as possible to your biped feet’s level/height when the biped thigh is picked up to 90 degrees and the shin hangs straight down (the “sit position”). Here’s how mine do:

Now, that’s half of the challenge, noticing which bones in the legs ought to be more or less responsive, and then roughing out an idea of the relative weights/responsivities each leg bone needs to make that happen, deciding which bones are liveliest and should be set at or near 1 and which are stiffest, or least active, and should go around .5 (you might even dip to .3). But (you might scream) what are you weighting these guys RELATIVE to? What are their TARGETS? Well!

...I’m not going to try to explain this. I’ve confused everybody every time I’ve tried. :p Just start with the shoulder constrained to the thigh, then the next bone down to the shin, then the NEXT bone down to the thigh again, then the shin again, and so on (thigh shin thigh shin thigh shin). This will get you 98% of the way there because most of the bones in a tetrapod leg-chain operate in simple opposition to each other. Basically, by rotating the shoulder like the thigh, when you raise your leg, your quad will start to raise its shoulder. By having the next bone rotate like your shin, and then continuing the pattern after, contracting your knee will make your quad contract its whole leg. This breaks down a little at the paw-and-toes, or the distal complexities of the horse, but just start with this pattern by rote. Then test it, and if one of the bones is obviously backwards, swap its target to the other one and test it again.

Last concept: if you have two bones in a row weighted to the same thing (like where you’ve got two bones that do not work in opposition to each other), the second one needs to have a bigger weight to the target than its parent. Because it inherits the parent’s rotation, and then only adds whatever amount that’s bigger. So, for my forepaw, I have it at .5 to the shin, and then the toes are at 1 to the shin. The whole paw acts as a shin-unit, but weighting the hand less than the toes allows the toes a little of their own flair. :v

(Okay that was a third-grade-biology-textbook lie. I actually have my upper paw .5 to the shin and my toes/beans at 1 to the foot. I might have a little bit of weight to the foot in the upper hand/palm part of my eagle foreclaws too. But I don’t recommend you add any weighting to the foot until you’ve got a good baseline result with just weights to the thigh and shin!!!!! The foot does things that you might find confusing and upsetting and which can introduce a LOT of incorrect limb placement/clipping, especially the further up the chain you allow it to interfere; it should be used sparingly or (as in my hind legs) not at all.)

Finally, the more your bone lengths and angles resemble your target animal’s (use a skeletal reference!), and the better you are at deciding which bones should respond a lot (and be weighted with high values) and which should respond less (and be weighted with lower ones), the more visual interest and species-specific character your quad avatar will have! You can see my gryphon’s rig above; here are its constraint values (where I go LR to LR, the left bits of the Humanoid control the left bits of the quad; where I go LR to RL, the left bits of the Humanoid control the right bits of the quad):

Back: LEVEL: 1 to BOB BEND: .5 to BOB Wings: upper_arm.LR.001: .5 to upper_arm.LR forearm.LR.001: .5 to (forearm.LR .5, hand.LR .5) hand.LR.001: .5 to hand.LR Hindlegs (targeted to the OPPOSITE side human legs): thigh.LR.002: .7 to thigh.RL shin.LR.002: .6 to shin.RL foot.LR.002: .9 to thigh.RL toe.LR.002: .7 to shin.LR Forelegs - EAGLE: thigh.LR.001: .7 to thigh.LR shin.LR.001: .8 to shin.LR foot.LR.001: 1 to thigh.LR toe.LR.001: .5 to (shin.LR 1, foot.LR 1) toe.LR.003,5,6: 1 to shin.LR toe.LR.004: 1 to thigh.LR Forelegs - LION: thigh.LR.001: 1 to thigh.LR shin.LR.001: .5 to shin.LR foot.LR.001: 1 to thigh.LR toe.LR.001: .5 to shin.LR toe.LR.005: 1 to foot.LR Tail: tail.001: .5 .5 to head tail.002: .6 .6 to head, etc. ***

REITERATION OF IMPORTANT PROTIP: Again, the quick and dirty test of your targets and values is to switch to Game mode and hike your Humanoid’s leg up so the thigh is parallel to the floor and the shin’s straight down (the sit position). Does your quad also hike its leg up, so its foot is in the neighborhood of your Humanoid’s foot level? Are all of your bones bending the right way? (Any that aren’t need their target switched to the other kind of leg bone.) If your quad is more or less “also contracting its leg so now it’s up,” then you’re either finished, or really really close!! If your quad daintily raises up its lil’ ol’ leggy for you, test your gait in-game and decide whether it has the right “feel”. If one of the bones is too stiff or too crazy relative to your reference animal’s style of motion, change its value so it behaves better, and hang the sitpose test. People mostly spend time standing, anyway, and your quad will likely look great standing and moving around even if it doesn’t do well at the sit test.

#vrchat #gryphon #text post #long post #dash stretcher

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1littleshippergirl1 · 4 years ago

Text

A Heartfelt Discussion

Summary: Percy has a talk with Lucy about where her mother is. Single father!Percy

He'd known that once they were old enough to understand, to comprehend the lack of a mother in their life, questions were going to arise.

It was inevitable. Much as he tried to keep things going spectacularly, they would notice, they would see how their family was different than that of their cousins or friends.

He could scarcely recall a moment when the girls were young-Lucy was five and Molly was seven-; some new neighbors had moved into the house across the street from them in their muggle neighborhood. A family of four. The girls were nosy as ever, peeking out from the corner of the window to get a glimpse. He'd been in the kitchen, preparing dinner by hand when Lucy came barreling into the room and asked the dreaded question.

"Daddy!" Lucy skidded to a stop, giving his leg a hug.

He smiled down at her. "Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I has a question," she stepped back, grinning toothily at him.

He didn't bother to correct her. "And what's your question?" he stirred the pot of potatoes.

"Where's our mummy?"

He nearly dropped the spoon.

"W-What?" he asked, weakly. He turned to look at her, swallowing thickly. "What did you say, sweetie?"

"Where's our Mummy?" Lucy repeated, not noticing the change in his demeanor. "Cody has a mummy and Danni has a mummy. Why don't Molly and I have a Mummy?"

She was peering at him with those eyes of hers, so full of childhood innocence. Percy would hate to take it away.

What was he even supposed to tell her? It wasn't supposed to happen yet. He'd thought he was safe! The girls were too young for that sort of talk, they wouldn't get it. But now that she'd gone ahead and brought it up, he had to say something, least so she wouldn't go and ask someone else.

He wasn't even certain those were her words! Perhaps she was just parroting Molly again or one of her friends had asked-that Cody was a bit too nosy for Percy;s liking-or she must have overheard someone at the Burrow talking hushedly about it. Godric knows that George couldn't keep his mouth shut.

Percy didn't know where the question had come from nor did he know how to properly respond. But the damage was done. He didn't like this, being so out of his element, so caught off guard. It wasn't him. It wasn't how he functioned.

As Lucy waited for an answer, bouncing on her heels, Percy stared down at her, his tongue feeling awfully loose and unreliable.

No one else in the family had been through a divorce or gone through a situation close enough to his. No one was able to give him the advice he so desperately needed. What did they know about this? Sometimes, Percy envied his siblings' marriages. They were happy and together and everything was so bloody perfect.

He couldn't say the same, not by a longshot.

So, he did what every parent had done at one point or another, he put it off. She was far too young for that talk. It would need to happen eventually, but that time wasn't now.

"Lucy," he put on a false cheery voice, "I have an idea."

Her eyes lit up. "What?"

"How about we go out for ice cream after dinner. How's that sound?"

She gasped, letting out a giddy holler. "Okay, Daddy!" she jumped and down, once, then went running back into the living room to inform Molly of the night's activity. "Molly! Molly! Daddy says we're getting ice cream!"

Percy let out a deep breath, leaning against the counter.

It wasn't that he didn't feel awful, because he did. Merlin knows that he did. He didn't want to lie or ignore the subject entirely. He didn't want to be like the bloody coward that he felt like. That he knew he was. It was going to come up again, he very well knew that. There would come a day where they would be searching for answers and there would be no way of avoiding it.

He knew that.

But how did one tell a child that her mother had run off without a second thought about them?

Percy continued to cook; every once and awhile, he'd glance on over at his girls as they rammed the firetrucks that were gifted to them from Harry into each other, making siren noises.

That night, when the girls were put to bed, he laid in his bedroom for the longest time and wept.

The topic didn't come up again until Molly was ready to attend Hogwarts. Even then, he'd frozen up when she came to him the night before, hesitantly and full of inquisitiveness. Without beating around the bush, she asked the same question Lucy had-the emotions swirling around within him just the same.

She just wanted to know, he had to accept that. It was natural. A smidgen of information, a piece of her who mother was and why she wasn't there. A flicker into a person of her life that was only there for a short time. Percy couldn't' fault her for that.

She hadn't wanted much. Growing up all those years without a mother in her life had hardened that part of her heart. She hadn't asked for a deep, thorough explanation, a reminiscing story of how they'd gotten together or really, much at all.

A picture.

That's it. A simple picture.

Percy did, indeed, have one. The only one of Audrey that he secretly kept. With a sigh, he flicked his wand, the item flying down the stairs and into his hand. He couldn't help but gaze at it as he gave it to Molly.

It was taken in the autumn of '98; as a matter of fact, he'd been the one to take the picture. He and Audrey had gone to a park on their third date. The season had changed and everything was bursting with radiance. The leaves were a beautiful shade of red and orange, flowing down as they fell to the ground. It was like a cascading waterfall. Audrey was beaming, a slight laugh escaping her from the thrill of it all.

Something happened inside of him, a small pang that he had to push through. He was no longer in love with her, but she was the first woman he'd fallen madly for and she was the mother of his children. She would always have a special place in him, even if that place wasn't the same after all these years.

Molly had been alright with that. She accepted the picture without much else being said between them, taking it to her bedroom where it was placed in a drawer-he thought. Honestly, he knew he got off easy on that and he was selfishly relieved.

It'd been years since she left, but she was still a tricky subject to talk about. He'd been so hurt and he didn't want his girls to have that same feeling, to have that ache because the realization of Audrey not wanting them would come eventually, even with him trying to delay it.

Or maybe, deep down, he was afraid. Afraid that with the knowledge their mother was out there-somewhere-they would embark on a mission to find her. To get some closure.

It was reasonable, but Percy didn't want to think abou it.

He'd tried to be more than enough for them. Taking on and fulfilling two roles, a role that Audrey had simply given up on. It was difficult and stressful and some days Percy wanted to scream because he was up to here with everything-but he would do anything for his children. He'd let them put a ridiculous amount of hair clips on him or a tiara to his head that would surely cut off his circulation one day. He would tackle every bad dream, every skinned knee, everything that made them shed a tear. He would listen and comfort them through any inevitable heartbreak of their own and help them get ready for any dates, assuring them repeatedly that they looked absolutely beautiful and their date would adore them.

His girls were his entire world. The bitterness, which at one point had consumed him, was long gone by now. But his protectiveness of them, especially when it came to the subject of her, would remain.

Lucy peeked around the wall into the living room. Percy was on the couch, engrossed in a novel he'd received as a birthday present. She knocked on the wall with her knuckles.

He glanced up.

"Hi, Daddy," she gave him a small smile. "Hope I didn't interrupt."

Shaking his head, he patted the seat next to him. "Not at all. Did you need something?"

She sat down, snuggling into his side. Out of both of his girls, Lucy was the one that didn't stray away from physical affection. Molly would let him hug her and give her a kiss on her cheek as a goodbye, then put on that facade of being embarrassed by it. He saw right through that-she would be quite upset if he neglected to do so.

"I mean," she began, unsurely, "if you're not busy..."

He closed the book. "Of course not," he reassured her. "I'm never too busy for you, girls."

She gave him another smile. "Okay."

Percy sensed something wasn't right. Lucy was chewing on her bottom lip and avoiding his eyes. He knew his daughters well enough, was aware of how they behaved when something was wrong and this certainly signalled that something was bothering her.

"You alright, Luce?"

She shrugged and he could practically see her mind overworking to come up with a response. "I just...I dunno. I just had a question."

"Alright," he said slowly, "what about, Sweetheart?"

She looked down at her lap. "Promise you won't get mad?"

"Lucy," Now he was concerned. He shifted himself a little to face her directly, studying her. "What's wrong, honey? You know you and your sister can talk to me about anything. Is it that boy you're seeing? Do I need to have a talk with him? You know boys at that age can be a little-"

"Dad," she said with a slight giggle, "it's not Dustin."

"Oh," he said, leaning back. "Well, alright, then." For good measure, to lighten things up, he added, "Well, he's lucky, then."

It'd worked. Lucy laughed, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.

"What?"

"It's true," Percy nodded, a mischievous smile on his lips. "I'm within my full right to hex any boy that upsets you or Molly."

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

He nudged her, playfully. "I could be worse. You remember how Uncle Bill was when Vic started dating?"

Bill had been regarded as the cool older brother for as long as Percy could remember. He and his younger siblings had idolized him. His laid back nature was one of the things that Percy had, admittedly, envied for a while. And he'd just assumed that when Bill was a parent, he'd have that same attitude.

However, a week after Vic came home from her third year of Hogwarts, there had been a letter addressed for her that she'd immediately taken to her room with a goofy grin on her face and sometime after, Bill had found out she'd been writing to a boy in her year-he'd been anything but cool.

He'd been adamantly against Vic dating, lamenting to Percy over a glass of firewhiskey over how his daughter was growing up too fast and he wished he could slow time down.

Of course, Percy understood. He sympathized-he did. His girls were interested in boys as well and he longed for those days when they would happily curl in his lap, snuggled against his chest as he read them a story of their choosing. But they had to grow up eventually and that's what he'd told Bill.

Lucy grimaced.

He laughed.

"Now, enough of that," he waved his hand, brushing at the air. "You've stalled long enough."

Just as he suspected, she grinned guiltily.

"Now, tell me," he said. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

She didn't speak for all of a minute. He watched a multitude of emotions cross her face all at once. Hesitancy. Apprehension. Uncertainty. Then, that familiar Gryffindor courage came shining out and she said so softly that he had to strain his ears, "It's about Mum."

Oh.

"Yeah?" he said, managing to keep his voice steady while on the inside he was freaking out. His siblings would have told him that it was no big deal but that was completely incorrect to Percy. He thought it was a pretty bloody big deal. "What about her?"

He was taken back to that five year old, asking why she and Molly didn't have a mummy. She'd been wanting something earnest, nothing that should have been told to her as a child her age.

However, she was no longer that same five year. She'd grown into a quiet, thoughtful thirteen year old who was seeking the truth. Despite that Percy wasn't ready for it.

He just wasn't sure if he was ready, to open to letting that part of his life resurface after burying it for so long. Some things were better left unsaid, left tucked away instead of dwelling on the what if's and what could have been. It didn't mean that it hurt any less, because even after all this time, there were moments where he was laying in bed, staring up at his ceiling blankly and just wondering what if things had been different. What if right at that moment, Audrey was curled up next to him, snoring lightly, rather than an empty, cold side that he'd come accustomed to?

But this wasn't just about him anymore.

"Well," Lucy said, drawing out the word, "I, erm, I was wondering..."

She trailed off. Clearly, she wasn't sure how to proceed.

"What do you want to know?" he cut in, gently.

His baby girl was so relieved. Relaxed now, tension gone, sitting up straighter, looking him in the eye, determined. She was every bit of the Gryffindor that he knew she'd be. And he couldn't help but have one thought: Audrey should have been there to witness it, to see how wonderful their daughter was turning out to be.

"Everything," Lucy admitted.

"I see," he sighed. "Suppose I should start at the beginning, hmm?"

She listened, attentively.

"Alright, well, your Mum was a Ravenclaw when we were in school. Met her on the train; she was a first year when I was in my second. And since we were in different houses, we didn't see much of each other."

Lucy nodded. "Did you think she was pretty, when you met her?"

He let out a chuckle. "Well, I didn't think she was terrible looking, but at twelve, my eye wasn't on girls."

"What was it on?"

"Being named Prefect," Percy said, reminiscing to that summer before Ron's first year when he'd received his badge and a congratulations from Professor McGonagall. It'd been the happiest moment of his life. "Your Aunt and Uncles can attest, I was terribly insufferable at that time."

"Oh, I don't need them to tell me," Lucy teased.

"Hush, you," he commanded, jokingly before switching back to a more serious side. "Anyway, I didn't really talk to your mother until after Hogwarts, when we were working at the Ministry before your Uncle Harry got rid of You-Know-Who."

"When you weren't talking to anyone," Lucy said.

"Right." It was still unpleasant to think about. But everyone had already forgiven him and for that, he was eternally grateful. "Your Mum was a secretary in the department that I was working in. She used to bring me coffee sometimes after most people went home and it was just the two of us."

Lucy frowned. "But, Dad, you hate coffee."

"Despise it," he agreed. "But your mother didn't know that."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "So you just...drank it anyway?"

"Sort of. I'd get rid of it when she wasn't looking, usually."

"Why didn't you just tell her you didn't like it?" Lucy's eyes gleamed with amusement.

Honestly, he really should have.

"Luce, I'd only had one girl interested in me as a teenager and I didn't even know if Audrey fancied me at that time, so I'd tolerate a little coffee if it meant spending a few minutes with her."

"You know, Dad, that's almost romantic," Lucy grinned. "And kinda weird, coming from you."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Percy said, dryly. "Anyway, yes, I tolerated it just so I could be with her and that worked until one day."

"What happened?" Lucy asked, eagerly.

"Audrey and I decided to walk down to the cafeteria to get our coffee together and on the way back up, we passed by a potted plant and honestly, I'd just wanted to get rid of it so I poured it in."

"And?"

"It started screaming," he shook his head at the memory and she covered her mouth to smother her giggles. "One of those talking pots, wouldn't you know it? Awful thing. I was so embarrassed but your mother thought it was hilarious and took to teasing me whenever the opportunity came to her."

"...Wow, Dad," Lucy couldn't stop the stream of laughter that was erupting from her. "Brilliant. What happened after that?"

"Well, it was quite a strange year. It wasn't really permissible to date amongst your co-workers but we snuck around it. She used to pull me in the broom closet quite a bit."

Lucy's face scrunched up at the thought. "Gross," she muttered.

Percy rolled his eyes fondly.

"Anyway. Sometime after that, I found out your Mum did, indeed, fancy me and we managed to have a few dates before getting together officially."

"Did you think she was pretty then?" Lucy probed.

Percy smiled softly, recalling that moment when he'd begun to see Audrey in a different light. "She was the prettiest girl I'd laid my eyes on."

"What'd she look like?" Lucy asked, relishing at being able to hear those intimate details.

"Like you," he caressed the silk blonde locks she'd inherited from her mother. "Blonde hair and she never took it out of her braid, either, if she could help it. She was about average height, I'd say. She only came up to my chest. Hmm, her eyes are hazel, though and I used to get lost in them often. I think she thought I was being cheesy when I said that, but I'd meant it."

Lucy nodded along, wearing a thoughtful expression. "I look like Mum," she whispered-he assumed-more to herself than to him.

"Except for your eyes," Percy said. "And your terrible eyesight. That's all me, I'm afraid. Your Mum's eyes are much better than mine are."

"So, she doesn't wear glasses, then."

"Well, I'm not certain about now but when we were together, no. Although, she did use to take mine to try them on," percy smiled wryly. "Thought it was the funniest thing."

"What was she like?" Lucy asked, after a beat of silence for her to ponder what she'd been told. "Does she like reading, too? Do me and her have anything else in common?"

"She was..." he searched for the most appropriate word, "unique. Very unique. Very much her own person. She was the kindest person I'd come across but she also wasn't afraid to stand up for herself. I think that's what attracted me to her in the first place. She was the opposite of myself, in many ways. I preferred to be alone for the most part and she relished in large groups. I could read for hours and she positively loathed to read and made it known on more than one occasion."

Percy paused. "Before we even began to get more comfortable around each other, your Mum had taken to embarrassing me on purpose."

Lucy cracked a grin. "How?"

"Oh, many ways. The plant gave her an idea so she charmed my chair in my office to say some rather...interesting things whenever I sat down. Oh, and there was this one time where, for nearly a month, she would greet me rather obnoxiously whenever she saw me."

"Did she make you laugh?" Lucy asked, curiously.

"Quite often," Percy said, reminiscing back to those very times. "Of course, that was after we began to talk. I was quite irritated by her presence when she first arrived."

"Why?"

"Well, I said I was quite insufferable," Percy said with a chuckle. "It was a difficult year, too. Strange and difficult. Finding out I'd been wrong about my job then later finding out Professor Dumbledore was dead-not to mention everything else after."

Lucy nodded wordlessly.

"But anyway. She was the complete opposite of myself, as I said, and she was always doing things unorthodox. Think she was trying to wind me up on purpose and I must say, it worked majority of the time," Percy's chest ached, drifting back into those old memories he'd been suppressing. Her grin that had once made his stomach flip flop was becoming vivid in his mind once again. "Really, I couldn't stand her at first, if I'm being honest. She was a right pain in the bum and it wasn't until one night she brought me a coffee because she said I'd been working too hard-that I finally noticed her."

"Here. Take this. You look like dragion dung."

"That's hardly an appropriate way to speak to your co-workers during hours."

"Oh, I see it now. You're one of those uppity types, aren't ya?"

He'd been rendered speechless by her sheer audacity; no one had spoken to him in that way since he'd first started working at the Ministry.

"Enjoy your coffee, Percy Weasley. And try not to tie your tie so tight next time. Cuts off air to your brain. Makes ya cranky. Like now."

"Dad?"

Lucy's voice brought him out of his daydream.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Why did she leave?"

Percy took a good, long look at his daughter. Her eyes, so full of wonder and defeat; her face worn in a way that should never have been.

And he hated it.

Hated what Audrey had brought on by her own selfishness.

"It's complicated, Lucy," he eventually settled on.

"How?" her voice was sharper. "How's it complicated?"

Percy kissed her temple, soothing rubbing a hand down her back. "You have to understand; your Mum and I...Audrey and I got married fairly quick after the war."

"I know that," Lucy's voice was now tinged with impatience. "Uncle George said you were the second one, after Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur."

"There was a reason for that," he took a deep breath. "You see, Luce, after the war, we just...we all wanted some normalcy back. It was so tough for so long that we just wanted to feel something familiar again. So, we got married and tried to make life go on again."

He continued, "It was okay for a while. We were happy. Audrey got along with everyone fine and I was slowly talking to the family again. I thought everything was going to be okay again."

"But it wasn't," Lucy said, knowingly.

"No," he agreed. "It wasn't. Your Mum and I started having rows after Molly was born. We'd never really fought before that and then suddenly we were screaming at each other left and right."

That was the most unpleasant phase of his marriage. The one where they'd gotten past being comfortable with each other and had gone on to nitpicking at everything. He could admit, shamefully, some of his worst offences where when he was exhausted from a day's work and came home, scolding Audrey for trivial things, such as leaving a window or a cabinet door open.

But he admitted to his rather poor behavior. Audrey, more often than not, made countless excuses, stating numerously of her disdain on staying home to watch over Molly.

Initially, he believed it to be hormones from her pregnancy. His Mum had said that she still might be moody after giving birth. So, he brushed it off and when time came for her maternity leave to finish, he'd thought-given her complaining-she would go back. But with an angry fling of her arms, she informed him-bitterness stinging her tone-that she was intending to quit her job so they didn't have to worry about a babysitter.

That was when the storm began to roll in.

"Do you regret it?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Getting married?" he clarified.

Did he?

In the short time he and Audrey were together, so many beautiful memories had become woven in his mind. Ones that'd he cherish. If only now things were different, better circumstances, but while the marriage itself hadn't worked out, she had given him the two most precious gifts anyone had given him.

"No," he assured, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "Because I've got you and your sister and I'd do it all over again if I had the chance."

"You mean it?" she asked, insecurely.

"I mean it," he affirmed. "Is there anything else you want to know?"

"Yes." Percy recognized the pointedness of which she spoke. "You still haven't told me why she left."

"Right," he mumbled. He rubbed at his chin. "Well, I'm going to be truthful, Luce, but I don't want you to dwell on it."

She nodded.

She was doing that a lot. Then again, what else was she to do?

"Your Mum wasn't happy being a wife and a mother," he admitted.

Lucy kept her gaze downward. "Did she tell you that?"

"She didn't have to."

Much as she tried to keep up the pretense, Percy had begun to see through it as the months passed from Molly's birth. She didn't have that gentle, nurturing aura to her and would frequently snap at little Molly for crying too much or showing blatant favoritism by the way she would instantly calm down in Percy's arms when she'd previously been wailing in Audrey's.

(Percy had nearly snorted at her claim that their baby was somehow favoring him, but he held it back when Audrey's eyes practically had fire coming from them).

He'd brought his concerns to his parents, in hopes that they could share some wisdom to help them through it. It was the war, they said, she must be struggling. They were of the belief that Audrey would get accustomed to parenthood eventually, that she'd merely gotten off on a rocky start.

But it didn't get better.

"She was impatient," Percy recalled. "Not very eager to witness Molly's milestones. Think she was resentful that she'd done it all so quick."

He hadn't known the correct way to approach the delicate subject with her, without sounding accusatory or making her believe that she was an awful mother. He'd come across her holding a sleeping Molly in her lap, with one arm over her middle to keep her from falling.

It proved that she was capable of acting motherly when she didn't let her temper fly off so easily.

He'd thought, or maybe he'd merely been fooling himself to feel better about the situation that he'd tried so hard to avoid, things would get better.

He'd thought that she was genuinely glad when she found out she was pregnant with Lucy.

She never indicated anything else, nothing to suggest that she was dismayed by it. She was there to pick out colors for the nursery, to decorate it with some stuffed animals and had snickered when Percy failed miserably trying to put together the crib by hand.

But then, as the months passed, the due date inching closer, she became a little more withdrawn. Any pleasant mood or smile would wipe away at the mention of the baby. She quit participating in any talk about it altogether.

It left an uneasy feeling swirling in Percy's stomach. Though, he tried to convince himself that it was just nerves. She'd be alright once the baby came.

She didn't.

"Did she even love us?" Lucy expressed her doubt.

I don't even know, myself.

"I wish I could tell you," Percy adjusted Lucy's glasses for her, they'd slipped down to her nose."I wish I could say she loved you both dearly-and maybe she did, deep down-but the truth is, I don't know."

"Oh," Lucy mumbled.

"But I love you," it didn't matter that she obviously knew that, he would reiterate it to them so he knew that they knew it. "And that's never going to change."

"I know, Dad," she said, gratefully. "I love you, too."

He ruffled her hair.

"I just have one more question."

"Ask away," he told her.

"When did Mum leave?"

"Shortly after we took you home from St. Mungos," he said, heavily sighing. "Your Mum, she was...acting quite strange. She wouldn't touch you and I was so busy trying to take care of you and keep Molly out of trouble I-" His words caught in his throat.

"You what?" Lucy said, concerned.

"I didn't even notice the empty wardrobe," he said with a slight, humorless laugh. "She'd left. Nearly two weeks after you were born and she left while I was changing you. I didn't even hear here, didn;t even get to say goodbye."

Lucy took his hand, squeezing it comfortingly.

"She left me a note, explaining everything. I'm glad you and your sister don't remember. I-I didn't know what to do with myself. I was terrified of letting you both down."

Lucy looked scandalized. "You could never let us down, Daddy!"

He smiled softly. "Thank you, Princess."

They sat there, silently, each drifting off into their own thoughts.

"How long did it take, you know, before it got better?"

He'd expected that question.

"A while," he said, truthfully. "It took a great deal of time to stop feeling so bitter. There were days I didn't want to get out of bed but I had to, because I had you girls to care for."

"So," Lucy's voice had taken on a slightly teasing tinge-that he suspected was to break up the tension and honestly, he was grateful for that, "technically, that means you owe us, right? Because otherwise you would've stayed in bed and probably looked like Uncle Charlie when he goes months without shaving."

A teeny smirk found its way on his lips. "Perhaps."

"So, like a new broom owe us or extra hour till curfew owe us?" Lucy grinned.

"Or," he chuckled, "how about I overlook the fact that Uncle George found you and that boy kissing in the back of the shop last week?" He raised his eyebrows when she smiled sheepishly.

"We'll go with that."

"I thought so," he checked his wristwatch. He ought to get dinner started by now before Molly came to moan that she was positively starving. "And maybe a stop at that muggle pizza place is fine, to."

"You're the best," Lucy kissed his cheek, jumping to her feet to inform Molly of their plans.

"And don't forget it!" he called to her.

He was getting up when she stepped back into the room, looking far more lighter than she had when she first came to him.

"Dad?"

"Yes?" He looked at her.

"Thanks," she said sincerely. "I know I don't appreciate you enough but I promise, I'll do better. You really are the best."

She left, making all sorts of racket as she ran up the stairs, hollering to her sister.

A warm sensation filled his whole body. He'd doubted for so long that he was doing the right thing, fretting and comparing himself to all those other parents that seemed to have it all together-

But his little girl thought he was the best.

And that was alright with him.

#percy weasley #lucy weasley #molly weasley ii #audrey weasley #percy weasley fic #harry potter #harry james potter #weasley family #hp next gen #hurt/comfort #single parents #hp fandom

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kewltie · 4 years ago

Text

i,,, had a thought what if izuku thought he couldn't give kasumi the best kind of future for her so when she had just turned two, izuku met up Katsuki's parents at their house and asked them to take care of her and quietly disappeared so katsuki ends up being a new up and coming hero with a baby girl on the side.

kasumi is raised in the Bakugou household and is love fiercely and spoiled atrociously her grandparents, daddy, and his friends. she got everything a girl can ask for but in the back of her head there's a fuzzy memory of green eyed man and his gentle low voice when he called out her name. she loves daddy above all even when he's being very annoying and overbearing because Kasumi is Daddy's precious princess and very very much like him as everyone says but when she looks in the mirror she sees blond hair, a perfect face and smile that resembles daddy but her eyes are the color of someone's else. Someone who is long gone from her memories, but they live in each breath she take. Live in the green hue of her eyes.

she doesnt know this person name but she know who he is. her other parent, the one who had abandoned her. she thinks he's a coward and weak for giving her up. she hates him so she wants to find him one day and yell at him and tell him that he's horrible HOW COULD HE LEAVE HER?? DIDNT HE LOVE HER?!

Izuku had carried kasumi in his body for ten months and he had her in his arms, giggling and crying, for only 2yrs but he loves her with all he has. when he had handed Kasumi to mitsuki it felt like he was giving away a part of himself because she is his, his most precious treasure. he broke down crying afterward, like he had just ripped out his heart and given it away but he knows katsuki and his family would give her a better future and a happier life than he could ever do. this is for her, he told himself, but it doesnt stop the agonizing pain he felt. the pain never truly stopped even though he had moved halfway across the country so he doesnt give in to the urge to race back and beg the Bakugou to give Kasumi back to him. he can only watch her grow up in the public eyes as the little princess of the new no. 1 hero, ground zero, like a bystander in her life.

kasumi grew up as the darling of the hero community because she was an enigma to the world. A BABY SUDDENLY appearing out of nowhere and to the HOTTEST upcoming hero?? and he had her while he was in high school?! and WHERE WAS THE OTHER PARENT?! a hero single parenting at his age is absurd. it got the nation scandalized and fixated on katsuki and his baby since day one so kasumi heavily grew up under the spotlight and in the public eye. it didn't help that she was terrifyingly clever, beautiful, blunt, and a natural hellraiser just by being bakugou katsuki's daughter.

the public adore her and she kinda mostly tolerate them back because it can't be help that she's so cute and smart that ppl want to pay attention to her (that bakugou’ss arrogance and confident coming out) lol. every move she make and say is always on the news, she doesnt mind it. really. sometimes when she lets herself think about it, she wonder if HE is watching her on TV somewhere in the world. does he see how much she had grown up now? does he love the dress she's wearing? is he proud of her? is he regretting HOW HE COULD LEAVE SUCH A PERFECT CHILD BEHIND? maybe all her achievements (the best in her class, athletics awards, ballet dancing and extracurricular activities she'd picked up and bested everyone else at) is her way of drawing attention to herself, maybe if she's SHOW EVERYONE SHE'S TRULY THE BEST,,, he'll come back to see her one day. the thing is kasumi is perfectly happy with her life. daddy is the best thing EVER and she loves him so, so much because that she never feels like she's a burden or lacking of anything but even his love isn't enough to fill that empty void in her, the 2yrs that she’d spent with that person.

all the while izuku tunes to the TV everyday in hope of getting a glimpse of her somehow, cut magazines and news clippings of her, and keeps track of her life through pieces of reporting because even if he isn't in her life, he wants to know what's going on in it and if she's happy at all. he'd built an entire shrine devoted to kasumi in his bedroom. there are pictures and news/magazine clippings of her on his walls. any mentions of her from katsuki or others, he'll watch the vid over and over again till his eyes are tired and he can repeat it word for word.

for several years he had watch her from afar, but on her seven birthday, five years since he'd let her go, he was so WEAK with longing that he bought a plane ticket just to see her. EVEN IF IT'S ONLY A GLIMPSE OF HER WILL DO, TO BREATH THE SAME AIR AND HE'LL LEAVE AGAIN. that's all he wanted. izuku in disguise had lurked around the bakugou's household with hundreds of fans and reporters because it's the birthday of the ground zero's most precious PRINCESS and everybody wants a piece of her. izuku should have been in there with kasumi and the bakugous celebrating her birthday instead of lurking outside like a creep but maybe that's true in another world. not now though.

in this world, he's just some weirdo stalker who obsessed with bakugou kasumi and her daddy as he waits outside to maybe see a glimpse of her at all. then he heard it, kasumi's boisterous giggles as she loudly proclaims she will magnanimously grace her fans with her presence.

"daddy, these people are obviously here for me," she scoffs, talking to an annoyed katsuki as they stroll out to the front yard. "I'll just say hi then i'll come back. stop worrying. you'll get even more grey hair and what will i do if you become uglier?" SHE'S SO BLUNT AND MEAN and izuku wanna cry because that's HIS BABY

he actually didn't even get to see her in person AT ALL because he ran the fuck away as soon as her heard her footsteps coming outside the bakugou's enormous home because he couldn't endure it. he knows if his eyes fall upon her person even once HE'LL BREAK DOWN AND never let her go again!

he can tell kasumi is lively, healthy, and clearly HAPPY with her life because katsuki had done right by her. izuku knew it was the right choice to leave kasumi to him and to hear that evidence so CLEARLY it was a relief and heartbreaking because it means that he was also right that he couldn't give her this. izuku quietly disappeared back to his life, never stop watching kasumi closely and once kasumi turned nine he decided it been long enough and she probably forgotten all about him and no longer caring about the disappointing parent who had abandoned her in a moment of weakness.

izuku moves closer to them. they're finally in the same city after seven years apart but it's not like kasumi nor katsuki knows that he is here at all. he tries to keep a low unassuming profile and promised to himself that he’ll never approach kasumi or katsuki at all. he manages to keep that promise for a year. then kasumi turns ten and HIJACKS katsuki's press conference to declares in front of hundred flashing cameras that, "my daddy is getting old and lonely and i cant be with him always so i'll be on the look out for good spouse for him :3c!" as katsuki roars in the background lol.

izuku was heartbroken in a diff kind of way compare to when he had given kasumi away because this is katsuki and kasumi, the two people he loves the most, finally moving on without him. katsuki will have a new mate and kasumi will have another parent that isn't HIM. he's happy but also very, very sad.

this is where like FATE OR SOME BULLSHIT because izuku managed to avoid the two of them for an entire year but ~things~ happens and he accidentally bumps into kasumi and KASUMI IS TOTALLY CHARMED by this strange quirkless nervous man who looks at her like she's his entire world. shes like ahh,,, maybe i should introduce him to daddy as a potential mate? not knowing that the man she feels an inexplicably drawn/attached to is actually her papa. bakudeku MEETING AGAIN AFTER 10 YEARS and yea, SHENANIGANS, MISUNDERSTANDING, SO MUCH DRAMA and also KASUMI lol

#bakudeku #not!fic #series: re:kasumi #if you're ever curious how re:kasumi came about it's bc of this

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visionsofus · 4 years ago

Note

I suggest the song "Where the Shadow Ends" by Banners for your mixtape fic. It's beautiful and melancholic, but also hopeful. It's given me a lot of inspiration for WandaVision fics lately.

Ahh thank you so much for this song!! I totally get what you mean with it being kinda sombre but also hopeful! It’s captured so perfectly in the lyrics too. Sorry it took me a while to get around to this - but better late than never ✨

Track #12: Where The Shadow Ends by BANNERS

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |

synopsis: Wanda falls ill at the compound and Vision panics. Surprisingly, her illness gives them an opportunity to talk about their feelings. Wanda comes to terms with putting faith in her feelings and in Vision.

All things considered; Wanda probably shouldn’t have gone to the gym when she did. But Steve had offered to help her with some of the new equipment the compound had ordered in and Wanda knew she pushed herself harder when faced with his superhuman training schedule.

She didn’t feel too bad at the beginning of the work out, going through the motions of warming up. She worked out most days because if she didn’t her body suffered after missions. So, she persisted even when she was tired and her muscles were sore, and apparently, even when it was pouring with rain. She’d quickly regretted her decision to go on a run despite the threatening grey sky. By the time the rain had started Wanda was too far into her run to turn back and had stubbornly refused to call anyone at the compound to come pick her up, instead walking all the way back as her wet shoes started to rub blisters into her heels. Thanks to an hour in sopping wet clothes, battling a harsh wind all the way home she’d woken up with a temperature the past two mornings.

But when she’d checked her temperature a few hours ago it seemed the fever had finally broken, and she was so restless that she didn’t hesitate to accept Steve’s invitation. A mistake she was going to pay for.

The warmup had her feeling a little woozy and lightheaded but not terrible. Things quickly went downhill as she started her usual activities. Just as she picked the dumbbells up to start on her triceps a sudden wave of dizziness hit her full force. Wanda vaguely remembered Steve calling her name as the dumbbells hit the floor with two resounding thuds and she promptly passed out.

Vision was stuck in a research spiral when he distantly heard the Compound AI say his name.

“Currently fetching recent message from Steve Rogers,” the robotic voice said from the speaker in the ceiling and Vision tilted his head as he listened. “Wanda has passed out in the gym, please prepare first aid.”

Vision didn’t give the AI the chance to repeat itself, launching himself out of his seat and phasing through the wall. He was used to quick thinking, easily able to make split second decisions based on a variety of possibilities, but this was something different. He didn’t thinkhe just moved. Within seconds he was phasing through the floors of the compound arriving in the basement with such force that his feet split the tiled floor on impact.

“What happened?” Vision asked with such fervour that he might have reprimanded himself for snapping, were he not so taken aback by the sight of Wanda’s limp body in the Captain’s arms.

“We were ten minutes into our workout and she just dropped to the floor,” Steve explained not hesitating to hand Wanda over to Vision’s waiting arms.

“She has a fever,” Vision said as he gathered Wanda up, holding her close so he could support her head against his chest. She was burning up, her breaths coming in short bursts that concerned him. How had her temperature gotten so high and why hadn’t any of them noticed her getting ill? Most of all, how had he let it slip his attention?

“You get her upstairs while I get a drip.”

They both started up the stairs, Vision trying not to jostle his unconscious cargo, too concerned to try phasing, even if the stairs were frustratingly slower. They parted ways at the ground floor as Steve hurried to the med bay and Vision continued to Wanda’s bedroom.

He kicked her door open with his foot and brought her over to the bed. As he set her down atop the navy covers, lifting her up to slip another pillow under her head, Vision wondered if it might have been better to just take her straight to the infirmary, or better yet, the hospital. But Wanda was notoriously unpredictable when it came to waking up in unfamiliar environments and had taken out a wall the last time she had passed out and woken up in the infirmary. Her own space was better, for now. Vision brushed her hair off her sweating forehead and Wanda groaned softly, shivering in her feverish state and reaching for the bed covers.

“No, no,” Vision murmured pulling Wanda’s hands away as she attempted to pull her covers up over her. She might be feeling cold, but Vision estimated her temperature was nearing 39C. While he waited for Cap to return with the drip Vision hurried to and from the kitchen and her bedroom, carrying with him a bowl of water and a cloth. Distracted, he managed to spill about a quarter of it along the hallway. He was just laying the cloth gently atop her forehead when Steve arrived in the doorway, IV equipment in hand.

“How did she get this fever?” Vision asked as Steve set down the mobile frame and hung the bag of liquid from the top. It was rare for illness to travel around the compound when so many of them were unable to fall sick, though there were far more serious conditions that could cause fever.

“She got caught in the rain on Wednesday, must have caught a cold from that,” Steve replied connecting the tubing and handing the other end to Vision as he prepared the needle. “She didn’t tell you?”

“No, she didn’t tell me,” Vision murmured, stoutly ignoring the little part of him that disliked Steve knowing something about her that he didn’t. He instead focused on finishing the IV, taking a little bit of tape from the first aid kit to secure the tubing to Wanda’s bare arm.

It wasn’t really a surprise that he hadn’t known of her rainy run. In the last week Vision had barely seen Wanda, something he found absurd because he lived just down the hall from the room they were currently in. And, well, the rest of the team often described them as being ‘attached at the hip’. Unfortunately, it seemed Wanda was excellent at making herself scarce when Vision tried to be near her these days. She was clearly trying to set a boundary, which Vision would understandably accept, if only he could understand what it was for. There had been no big change between them that he could identify, if anything they’d been getting closer, but it was as though she’d decided she didn’t like spending time with him anymore.

“I should have told her to go easy with the exercise,” Steve said, more to himself than anything, but Vision silently agreed.

Vision sighed quietly and perched himself next to the unconscious Wanda, removing the cloth from her head and submerging it in the basin once more. “She needs to look after herself,” he murmured, “or at least let someone else help her.” Vision avoided meeting Steve’s eyes following this admission, knowing that behind thissomeone else meant himself.

He wrung the cloth out and returned it to her scorching skin, delicately wiping at her cheeks and neck. Though she seemed more peaceful now and her breathing more regular, he was still on edge. Hopefully the fluids would start to do their job and her temperature would come down, but if this continued through the night, he’d call a doctor.

“And are you alright?” Steve asked, he’d retreated to the wall and was leaning against it now with his arms folded. “You were fairly shaken up down there.”

“Yes,” Vision replied quietly, not wanting to speak too loudly lest they wake her up before her body was ready. “I don’t like seeing her like this.”

Steve hummed thoughtfully. “And everything is alright between you two, other than this? It’s like she runs out of the room whenever she sees you these days.”

“I do not know if everything is alright, I thought things were maybe changing between us, but then she began avoiding me,” Vision sighed, tucking Wanda’s hair back from her face. As he did so she stirred slightly, her head tilting into his touch. She mumbled something incoherent.

“She’s been through a lot. A connection like the one you two seem to have,” Steve cleared his throat, “uh this intimacy I suppose, could be scary and unfamiliar. I could be wrong, of course, I’m just speaking to what I’ve seen in the last few months.”

Vision didn’t reply and continued wiping at her forehead. He often spent more time watching than talking, he spoke when it was of value and only with Wanda did he find himself speaking freely. To have Steve identify this insight about their relationship made him realise that he wasn’t the only one monitoring the interpersonal connections of his teammates.

When he didn’t reply Steve pushed himself off the wall and headed for the door. “She’ll probably be hungry when she wakes up, and you know what they say about chicken soup and the flu. I’ll go to the store.”

“Good idea,” Vision said absentmindedly.

He sat with Wanda quietly for another half hour, replacing the basin of water once and continuing to cool her forehead down. At one point he had to stand to put the blinds down as the late afternoon sun started to hit the side of the compound and streamed through her windows, casting them in a golden light. Otherwise, he was simply content to sit by her side for the first time in a week without her scurrying out of the room or pretending like he wasn’t here.

He rested his chin on his hand and gazed at Wanda’s shelves and the growing collection of items she’d collected on their travels to personalise her room. A snow globe from Atlanta, a framed picture of the team from their first big mission together, a newspaper clipping, one of the few that spoke kindly of her.

“Was I wrong,” he murmured to the air, “to think we were becoming something more?”

“Vis?” Came Wanda’s quiet voice and Vision was surprised to feel her fingers brushing his knee. He turned to her to see she was blinking blearily up at him.

“You’re ok,” Vision assured her instinctively, moving closer to lift the cloth from her forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” she muttered thickly. “Can I have some water?”

“Just a moment.” Vision stood and sped out the room and to the kitchen where he hurriedly filled up a glass and was back at her side in seconds. She managed a soft smile when he reappeared, the first smile he’d seen in a week, which almost had him stumbling as he returned.

He offered his hand to steady her as she sat up a little and took the water from him. When she leant back once more, her eyes were on him darting about his face and he quickly schooled his expression to be free of the worry nagging his heart.

“Is there anything else you need?” Vision asked.

“No,” Wanda sighed sleepily, “just rest I think.”

“Would you like me to leave?” Vision nearly kicked himself for saying what he feared out loud, for providing such an easy opportunity to let her push him away again.

“No.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

In silent response Wanda turned her head away from him and bit her lip.

“You’re ill and tired, we shouldn’t have this conversation right now,” Vision said, aware of the fact that he was buying time for himself before she could give him the answer he feared.

“Please don’t be angry,” Wanda said and then so quietly, Vision thought he had imagined it, “it’s for the best.”

He’d been ready to stand and leave the room but at this took one of her hands in his, squeezing it in what he hoped she took as reassurance. “I am not angry at you, I could never be angry at you. I am worried.”

“But I’ve been avoiding you without explanation,” Wanda huffed raising her free hand to rub the sleep from her eyes.

“Well, I suppose there is that,” Vision relented, “but please know I would never be angry at you for wanting space, I admit I was hurt but if you could explain things to me, if there’s anything I’ve done that you haven’t liked—”

Wanda laughed, or it sounded like something close to a laugh, coarse and cynical more than anything. Vision stopped mid-sentence and looked down at his hands. Distantly, he registered the sound of the front door opening and closing – Steve was back just in time.

“I should go,” Vision said sadly, standing up to leave, “Steve will bring you some soup.”

“Wait no,” Wanda said sitting up and her hands flying out for him. “I wasn’t laughing at you, I swear.”

He could tell she wasn’t lying and slowly let her pull him back down to the bed. Wanda slowly leant against the pillows once more, this moment of exertion had evidently taken it out of her. She closed her eyes even as her hands remained tight on his arm. “The fact that you think you could ever do something I don’t like, is ironic, that’s why I laughed.”

“Ironic?” Vision asked.

Wanda sighed quietly and moved her hands from his arm to his hands, holding them tightly as though prepared to stop him from walking out again. “You want me to spell it out, huh?”

He said nothing.

“I owe you an explanation I suppose,” Wanda said and despite how peaky the sickness was making her look, her cheeks gained a little more colour as she spoke. “You’ve been too good to me, the best part of my days is when I’m with you, I pulled away to see if what I was feeling was real. I thought if I could go a little bit without you then maybe what I was feeling wasn’t that serious,” she jerked her chin to the IV stand next to her, “but my assumptions were correct.”

“So,” Vision began raising his eyes to meet her unwavering gaze, “what you’re saying is…”

“I’m falling for you and I’m scared about what that means for us,” she said and took a deep breath, “and of losing you.”

“You cannot lose me if you don’t have me,” Vision replied, “and perhaps youcan put aside your feelings. I, however, cannot.” It was true, if this week had taught him anything it was that he needed her in his life, by his side and if she let him, as something more.

Wanda’s eyes shone happily for a moment before she seemed to reign herself in. “I thought I could stop how I’m feeling,” she murmured, “I thought it was for the best, I thought I could protect myself.”

“We could protect each other.”

“Until one of us isn’t there,” Wanda said cynically, “I know this isn’t the kind of job we get to retire from.”

“Is that not more reason to pursue this, while we can?” Vision asked leaning closer.

Wanda didn’t have an answer to this, and Vision felt as though he had said enough for her to think about. He stood up, keeping a hold of her hands for as long as he could before he was forced to let go, stepping away.

“I will go and see if your soup is ready.”

Steve sat with Wanda while she ate the soup, her mind doing backflips over her conversation with Vision.

She wasn’t expecting Steve to be so forthright with his questioning, but he asked her as soon as she finished eating. “Have you fixed things between you and Vision?”

Wanda tried not to let her mouth hang open in surprise. “Not yet,” she muttered letting her spoon drop against the bowl and pushing it towards him.

“I’ve never seen him scared before today, you really gave him a fright.”

Wanda didn’t reply, letting the information sit with her even as the guilt began to fester.

“I don’t say that to make you feel bad,” Steve said, as though reading her mind, “I’m telling you so you know how much he cares about you. I mean he’s a synthezoid, Wanda, we used to worry he wouldn’t feel things and now the problem is him feeling too much? Do you not feel the same?”

Wanda stealthily avoided this question, she hadn’t even confessed the full extent of her emotions to Vis, she wasn’t about to let Steve in on her closely guarded heart just yet. No matter how much his counsel usually helped her. “I just feel this great wave of darkness waiting just beyond our horizon,” she said quietly, afraid to admit the brewing shadows she’d been feeling for months now. “Like something big is on the way, something we can’t stop.”

Steve’s brows furrowed at this, but he persisted. “Wanda, you of all people know how much your own mind can be your biggest enemy,” he said, “so is that really reason enough to ignore the light? Avoiding sad emotions doesn’t necessarily make us feel happy, so what makes you think running from happiness will stop you ever being sad?”

When she was still quiet, he pushed further. “You’ve had more darkness in your life than anyone should, but here’s an opportunity to add a bit of light to those shadows, are you really going to say no?”

She opened her mouth to answer but this time didn’t have the opportunity as Vision phased through the wall, pausing when he saw he’d caught the pair deep in conversation.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said quickly, but Cap was standing up, taking the empty soup bowl with him.

“It’s ok, I was just leaving.”

Vision pressed his hands together as he walked around her bed hesitantly, keeping his distance. “I wanted to check in on you before bed, are you feeling better?”

“Much better,” Wanda said, but she still felt a little feverish and like she might need to sleep for a week.

“I am glad to hear that,” he murmured, rubbing at the back of his neck, “if you need anything in the night I’m just down the hall.”

“Can’t you stay?” Wanda blurted out before she could lose her nerve again. “Please?”

“If that would help,” Vision replied, and Wanda swore he turned away to hide a smile. When he looked back at her she patted the bed, gesturing for him to join her.

He was careful not to jostle her as he laid down, and Wanda openly admired his grace even as he shyly avoided her gaze.

“I admit I probably wouldn’t have slept tonight; I’d just keep coming in to check your temperature,” Vision conceded as he lay his head against the pillow and Wanda turned to face him. Then, more hesitantly, “Please don’t push me away without warning again.”

“I promise,” she replied without hesitation. “Perhaps I wasn’t sick because of the rain, maybe it was more complicated, like my heart giving up a little when I stubbornly tried not to listen to it.”

Vision chuckled. “I think the rain definitely didn’t help, but your heart makes a good point.”

Wanda smiled tugging the pillow further under her head and placing a hand under her cheek. She scrunched her nose at Vision, unable to stop smiling and extended her hand in invitation. He accepted, bringing one of his own hands up and intertwining their fingers, kissing the back of her hand tenderly.

“And have you decided to listen to your heart?” He murmured, kissing her hand to punctuate the question.

“I have a very stubborn heart,” she relented, “I couldn’t ignore it even if I tried.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Vision said smiling at her and shuffling closer.

Wanda pushed back against his chest and Vision immediately halted. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’ll get sick.”

Vision laughed. “Wanda, dear, I am a synthezoid, you couldn’t pass your illness onto me even if you wanted to.”

Wanda tilted her chin up at the challenge. “Well in that case.” She pulled him close and pressed her mouth to his as she’d wanted to hundreds of times. As though in celebration, the lights flickered out and the door slammed shut, submerging them in darkness that had Wanda laughing in embarrassment at her magic’s overreaction. Now cast in shadow, the only light was the soft glow of the mind stone atop Vision’s head, and the faint gleam of his eyes in the night. She used them as guidance to kiss him again, and again, and again. Finding no reason to stop until she felt him smile against her mouth, pulling back a little so that their noses were still brushing and the breath between them was shared. She was done with running from this, not quite sure how they had ever been able to hold themselves back from each other.

#wandavision #scarletvision #Wandavision fanfiction #wanda maximoff #scarletwitch #wanda x vision #concerned vision is a sweetheart #wanda feels too much #and fears too much lol #visionsofusfics

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ecritverite · 3 years ago

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some hc’s on woods’ past & his behaviour - (tw: mentions of homophobia, abuse, suicide)

abridged summary: because of his history of abuse, woods has a VERY private inner world and has a hard time trusting others enough to speak his mind lest he not be listened to or harmed in the process. he is extremely self-aware and observant often out of anxiety that something might be used against him. he is also very emotionally sensitive, feels things intensely, and is prone to crying - something his father did not like to see in him. however, his father’s behaviour made him realise that he does not want to harm others either & give into that same nasty fate, so he puts distance between him & others when he starts to feel intense to avoid that possibility. is always willing to listen, seek honesty & truth, to see beyond the surface, to provide others with something he felt he never had. always asks ‘why’ - knows there is always reason behind intense emotions but can see when it needs time to be voiced and can’t be rushed. however his constant self-isolation can bring about overthinking tendencies & anxieties & anger at believing he’s being misunderstood/not having the same safety to express reciprocated... he may think he is being clear, but because he was never given the opportunity to do as he pleased, he has a hard time articulating or knowing his own needs at times.

and now, on to the details. you really don’t have to read all these but if you want to, i am extremely honoured that you’d take the time to 😭 for reference, linden is woods’ dad’s name.

scene from dead poet’s society with neil’s father - a great example of how woods’ father might guilt him - “we’re trying very hard, why do you defy us” / in response to questioning/protest: “oh stop it! don’t be so dramatic” - being rushed to answer in an intense moment; the hopelessness as he realises his family will never understand the depth of what he’s struggling with, will always run up against a wall, humiliation. resistance seems futile.

despite his consistent drawbacks in business & money, linden considers himself the ‘wise one’ of his family because he has ‘forged his own path’ and believes the only way to get through life is by stepping on others & manipulating - insists ‘the world is not fair’. has a distaste for his older sister, a lesbian plant ecologist; does not understand her & doesn’t want to, consistently works in the opposite direction of her, cuts her off from contact with woods.

claims that he has worked very hard to give woods the ‘easy’ life that *he* had always wanted as a child - believes that his son making a successful career in sports will keep him safe from financial failure, keep him ‘too dumb’ to know about the complexities of the world. relates knowledge to his sister.

homophobic, linden suppresses his son through destroying evidence of ‘deviance’ upon discovery - takes satisfaction in burning woods’ clippings of men in sports magazines / undergarment ads, threatens him with humiliation & guilt as well as physical abuse.

makes an attempt to conceal the severity of his abuse from the mother so that she hasn’t enough ground to disagree with him and cannot side with their son’s resistance. this would give her ‘too much power’. she is secretly sympathetic but has no idea how to provide proper support without suffering the same fate of punishment.

linden does not want to believe he is losing a grip on the life he had intended to have - to admit defeat would be to show weakness & failure. in denial of reality and attempts to warp everything around him and is violent towards defiance, fear is linden’s instrument of control.

because of the way his father operates, woods has little to no privacy and is in constant fear of being ‘found out’ - he does what he can to appease his father just to survive, does not believe there is anything beyond the path that has been ‘laid out for him’ - the hope has nearly entirely been beaten out of him.

writing is his only form of escapism. feels unable to express himself at school - even in his classwork, the teachers have brought his outside-of-the-box thinking to his father’s attention and it’s resulted in the same private threats. because of his feeling trapped, woods often has suicidal thoughts at a very young age. nature is his only solace/reminder that there is something more out there, something beautiful. often looks at the moon to feel less alone, is fascinated by the phenomena of flora, understands & is gentle toward animals (they don’t judge or suppress him like the human world he knows at this time does).

to keep himself going, woods puts all energy into rugby & football - has a satisfying release of tension in the activity of the game. unfortunately, his intense ambition results in injury and his future of a successful career drops out of view.

his father clambers and decides the only two options are for woods to either work at his sales business, or for him to attend military academy.

fed up, this marks the point of woods’ escape from home. conspiring with the singer of a band (his only close friend at school), woods runs away one morning to join musicians on the road and never looks back.

#i don't often like to think abt these things but they are definitely critical parts to his character & why he acts the way he does #given the era & locations he grew up in this is relatively realistic #the summary at the beginning is there if u do not want to read the Details #homophobia /#abuse /#suicide /#* ooc : headcanons.

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litrally · 4 years ago

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Be Enough

Summary: Damian knew he wanted to live up to the legacy he was given--he just had no idea hearing that he'd failed to do it would hurt so damn much.

Damian’s foot whirled out to the side, his heel connecting with the thug’s temple and making him drop like a rock. He ducked under another’s flying fist, jerking his head up to strike the man under his chin, throwing him off balance before slamming his fist into the side of the man’s head.

Damian’s body was aching, and though he would never admit it, his strikes had grown the slightest bit sloppy over the course of the fight. There were about 20 bodies dropped on the floor around him, but there were still another 10 men circling him, looking for an opening to with which to take him down. Damian vaguely noted the small puddle of blood that had pooled beneath his feet--actually, it probably had to do with the dull ache that was spreading across his lower back that made it a little hard to breathe each time his torso moved.

His comm crackled to life in his ear. “Robin,” Grayson’s voice came through as Damian ducked under another fist flying towards him. “I’ve located Crane, but he’s dispersed the toxin throughout the building. I’m going to start locating it.” Dick paused for a moment. “Unless you need backup.”

Damian rolled his eyes, despite having to fight to keep the breaths that were now coming out in gasps as even as possible. “I’m fine, Batman. I don’t need your assistance.”

There was a long gap before Grayson responded. “Are you--”

“Get the toxin out,” Damian snapped. “There are lives at risk and I don’t need your backup to take out a few thugs-for-hire.”

Damian could hear Dick’s tired sigh through the comms. “Alright. I’m on the roof of the building. I’ll work my way down towards you. Try not to die before I get there. Batman out.”

Damian took a deep breath, dropping low to sweep out the legs of the man in in front of him, trying his best to ignore the pain that took over his shoulder the second he was forced to put any weight on it. Inhale. Thug number seven hit the ground. Exhale. Only three left. He could do this. If only to avoid the humiliation that would undoubtedly prevail if he needed Grayson’s help.

Grayson had done enough for him. Training Damian and letting him work under him as Robin, even though Batman was his birthright, Damian grumbled to himself. But still. Grayson had taken him in and dismissed the incompetent fool that was the last Robin despite having no reason to do so, and Damian found himself working towards every expectation Grayson set. He preened at his praise, a reaction his mother would have killed him for, but Damian realized how much he enjoyed those encouragements; a hand squeezing his shoulder in approval or a grin and a nod when he finally mastered the move he had been working on for weeks--he had grown soft under Grayson’s guidance, yes, but Damian wasn’t entirely sure he disliked it.

Damian’s mind wandered enough about being torn between wanting more of the affection he had grown accustomed to with Grayson and screaming at himself for the weakness that he didn’t notice one of the men sneaking up behind him. He struck the temple of the one in front of him and watched him drop like a stone, but he barely held in the grimace when the last one came up behind him and struck him in the back, directly atop the bleeding wound he already had there. Damian whipped around and took the man down in two moves, but he stumbled as he did so. The world tilted dangerously, and a sort of black fuzziness overtook his vision as he struggled to right himself. Some subconscious part of him noted a faint hissing in one of the corners of the room, but Damian couldn’t do more than tap his comm before the world went black.

Dick was disarming the fourth gas canister when he heard Damian’s comm activate. According to Crane’s confession before Dick knocked him out and left him handcuffed to a flagpole on the roof, there were five canisters throughout the building that had to be taken out before the gas had the chance to overtake the vents. Dick’s hand crept up to his own comm, holding it down as he tried to understand the situation on Damian’s end. “Robin?”

Silence met him at the question. “Robin, are you in need of assistance?”

Something in Dick’s chest jumped at the lack of response, his jog as he approached Damian’s floor broke into a sprint.

Dick gaped at the scene that greeted him. Approximately 30 men scattered throughout the room, all of which covered in varying degrees of injuries but none of them, he noted with no small amount of relief and a little bit of pride, lethal. But his mood immediately faded as he noted the crimson-clad form slumped in the corner of the room.

“Robin?” he asked somewhat hesitantly, before noticing the slight green tinge that had taken over the air surrounding him. “Shit,” Dick murmured under his breath, noticing the vent a few feet from Damian that was releasing the dense smoke that was probably the last of the fear gas he had been unable to locate. Dick shoved a rebreather between his teeth and pried open the vent cover as fast as he could. As far as he could see, all of the thugs were still too far away to be affected, but Damian...Damian would probably be spending the night in the med bay of the cave.

As Dick worked, Damian’s quiet whimpers began to take over the heavy silence of the room. He didn’t seem to be moving much, likely due to the growing puddle of blood that Dick was trying to ignore for the moment, because if he thought about it too long he’d scoop Damian up and run him the cave as fast as he could, fear gas be damned. But Dick kept his composure, clipping the last wire on the canister to ensure no more of the gas would be released and tapped a few buttons on his gauntlet to redirect the building’s airflow outward.

Dick made his way over to Damian and gently pressed his fingers to his throat to check his vitals. He was still whimpering and his finger’s had began twitching as well, the only reason he likely wasn’t full out thrashing being that his body no longer had the energy for it.

Dick’s finger’s went to his ear. “Agent A, I need you to prep the medbay. Robin’s been gassed, and I can’t tell if it’s a new strain or one of the ones we have an antidote on hand for.”

“Understood,” Alfred’s voice came through. “Do I need to prepare any supplies for you?”

“No,” Dick replied, carrying Damian to the batmobile parked just outside the building. “I’m fine. I’m leaving with Robin now. ETA about 25 minutes.”

“Alright. I shall have everything ready for you when you arrive.” Alfred said.

Dick kept glancing over at Damian as they drove home, every twitch and mumble pulling his attention from the road. But Damian was remarkably...calm for someone on fear gas. It should have been reassuring, but something about it made Dick’s insides twist painfully.

Alfred was already jogging over before the car came to a full stop in the cave. Dick lifted Damian with an arm under his knees and the other behind his shoulders, careful to avoid jostling the long slice that ran laterally across his lower back. Alfred started an IV as Dick laid him down.

“I’m putting in the antitoxin for the latest strain we have on file,” Alfred said, slowly pressing down on the plunger inserted into the IV tube. “But he seems to be having some sort of delayed reaction to it, so I am not confident it will work.”

Dick pulled his cowl down, running a hand through his hair as Alfred began to dress the number of wounds covering Damian’s body. God, he looked so...small. So young. What the hell was Dick doing taking him out into the field and leaving him in a room with thirty men?

Alfred glanced back at him, seeming to take note of the anxiety in Dick’s stance. “Go take a shower, Master Dick. Master Damian is stable for now, and I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

Dick opened his mouth to object, but a look from Alfred had him turning on his heel and tossing the cape from his shoulders onto the chair in front of the batcomputer.

By the time he came out, Alfred was packing up the medical supplies and Damian was tucked firmly beneath the blankets kept in the medbay, looking borderline peaceful. Dick pulled up a chair and settled near Damian’s head.

“I’ll go upstairs to go prepare for tomorrow’s activities. You’ll be staying here, I assume?” Alfred asked.

Dick nodded, too tired to respond verbally. Alfred squeezed his shoulder gently as he passed by. “Let me know if you need anything,” he murmured. Dick nodded again, then leaned his head back against the chair, keeping his eyes on Damian. He made it almost an hour before falling asleep.

Damian shot up in his bed, his head sweeping frantically around the room to try and take in as many details as possible. Grayson was seated in front of him, and Damian tried to bring himself to his feet, but he found something pinning him down, like he was tied to the gurney. He didn’t like it--it made him feel caged. Boxed in. Too vulnerable.

Grayson stood and strode towards him, something about his gait making Damian far more nervous than it had any right to. Grayson’s stance and demeanor always reminded Damian of a cat--dangerous when it needed to be, yes, but light and gentle. But this...this Grayson reminded him of a wolf.

“What the hell were you thinking with that fight?” Grayson hissed, leaning forward in a way that had Damian unconsciously scrabbling backwards towards the edge of his bed.

“I--” Damian began, but Dick cut him off. “How the hell have you managed to stay alive this far? Why did Talia even bother dealing with you? You clearly didn’t inherit of her skills,” he scoffed, shaking his head and rolling his eyes towards the ceiling.

Some part of Damian flinched at that, but he rallied, even if the words came out in a whimper to his own ears. “My father was--”

“Your father,” Dick said, turning away from him with a humourless laugh. “Don’t even get me started on your father.” Dick turned back towards him, holding Damian’s gaze and spitting the words like venom. “Your father would be so disappointed in the way you turned out. You’re a pathetic excuse for Robin, and you’re not worthy of the cape you wear across your back. You are not worthy,” Dick repeated, “of anything.”

Damian began pulling at the invisible bonds tying him to the bed, every single word striking him like a knife to the chest. “You’re wrong,” he said, fighting to keep his words stable and yet still hearing a slight wobble to them as they spilled form his lips. “You’re wrong. You--You said--”

“I don’t give a damn what you think I said,” Grayson hissed, bringing his his face close to Damian’s in a lethal whisper. “I hate you.”

Damian wasn’t sure when the tears started spilling from his face. The words had struck something in him, something far deeper than what he had thought he was capable of feeling.

“You...” Damian’s voice came out small, even to his own ears. “You don’t mean that?” The phrase should have been definitive. Strong, Yet it came out as a question. God, Grayson was his partner. Damian should have known his true feelings like his own.

“I hate you,” Grayson repeated, his teeth grinding together in absolute loathing. “I hate you so. Damn. Much.”

Damian’s quiet tears of shock had changed into full out sobs. “Nonono wait, please,” he gasped in between whimpers. “I’ll--I’ll do better. I swear. Please, just, please don’t say that. Please don’t mean it.”

Grayson’s gaze remained fixed on him. His lip curled in distaste, and he only looked more disgusted with Damian’s pleading. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a Wayne or an Al Ghul. It was mistake taking you in. You’ll never be good enough to be my Robin, and you’ll never be worthy of anything your father left you.”

Damian’s vision blurred, no longer taking in anything around him. His world was fury and shame and exhaustion, but most of all, utter disappointment in the fact that he knew that everything from Grayson’s mouth was true. So he lost it completely. He sobbed and shook and screamed and begged Grayson to take him back. To let him prove himself as someone worthy of everything he had been given.

But Grayson’s face was like stone: utterly immoveable and ruthless. So Damian just went on pleading.

Dick jerked awake to the sound of the heart rate monitor spiking. Then he noted the alternated sobs and whimpers coming from the previously silent body asleep beside him. He pushed himself to his feet immediately checking over IV lines and oxygen masks before realizing, shit, the fear gas must have kicked in.

He touched Damian’s shoulder gently, trying his best to pull him out of whatever nightmare scenario that had him sobbing out in his sleep, trying to ignore then painful twist in his chest every time he heard some variation of “Grayson, please, I’m sorry!”

It took almost an hour of shaking Damian’s shoulders and yelling his name before his eyes flew open. Dick glanced at the clock and did the quick calculation in his head. The toxin should be more or less out of Damian’s system by now, but the haunted look in his eyes seemed to say differently.

“Grayson,” Damian began, his voice hoarse and raw from the events of the night. His eyes were red and puffy, and tear tracks ran all over his face. “I--how long was I unconscious?”

Dick looked at him cautiously. “A few hours. Actually, I think the sun will be up soon.” Dick fell silent, watching Damian try and slow his breathing again before continuing. “Are you alright?”

Damian stiffened, and Dick started frantically running through everything he’d said and done since picking Damian up that might have elicited that reaction.

“I’m fine,” he replied, though the utter exhaustion in his tone seemed to convey otherwise.

Dick turned away for a moment (and could have sworn Damian almost deflated at the action) but returned almost immediately, holding out a water bottle.

Damian reached out to take it, and if Dick didn’t know any better, he could have sworn his hands were shaking he slightest bit. Dick settled himself on the bed near Damian’s legs, crossing his arms and watching silently as Damian sipped slowly at his water. As he twisted the lid back onto the bottle, Damian opened his mouth to speak again, his eyes never wavering from some invisible speck on the floor.

“Do...do you hate me?” Damian asked, his voice wavering the slightest bit and Dick could have sworn something in his chest cracked at the question.

“No, of course not, Damian,” he murmured, trying and failing to ignore the way every muscle in Damian’s body relaxed at the response.

“I know I’m not an easy person to take care of,” Damian began, still refusing to make eye contact with Dick. “And I know I don’t live up to the legacy that father left behind. And I know I’m probably not good enough for it, but--”

Dick cut him off by wrapping his arms around Damian’s shoulders and tugging him against him. Damian’s breaths began coming out in harsh gasps and he was crying again before he could really register what had happened.

Dick shut his eyes and began rubbing soothing circles around his back, letting Damian ride out the emotional effects of the fear gas for as long as he needed to. After a few minutes, Dick started talking again.

“Your father,” he said, “left me some really big shoes to fill. And honestly, I’d be lying to you if I said that you weren’t one of the most difficult parts of that.” Dick felt Damian tensing up against him at that again. “But,” he continued, “You’re one of the best parts of it too.”

“I was terrified to be Batman,” he admitted, his voice sounding more vulnerable than Damian had ever heard it in the weeks they’d worked together. “But somehow...somehow having you with me, to train and to work with, made it a little better. Damian, you gave me something real to work for, something I could look at and watch grow when every single thing Bruce did seemed too big for me to handle. And that is why,” he continued, his voice shaking the slightest bit, “you are an amazing Robin.”

“I’m not saying you’re perfect,” he added with a soft laugh, “but your dad would have been so proud of you. Like I am. So no, I don’t hate you.”

Damian was crying in his arms again, but these tears seemed different than the ones from before. Dick stroked his hair and held him close, even when his shoulder became damp from Damian’s tears, and didn’t move from there until Damian pulled away just enough to look him in the eye.

“Thank you, Grayson. For all of it.”

#ngl im kinda proud of this one #dick grayson #damian wayne #dick & damian #dc #bruce wayne #batman #robin #fanfic #prompt #writing #batfam #bat family #alfred pennyworth #dc comics #my writing

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