#Broca x reader

[aaksees]

could you possibly write for broca w/ a sick male reader? like. damn. he's got oripathy. time to care for him.... stuff like that :P

OKAY I MIGHT'VE FORGOT TO POST THIS YESTERDAY UHM

─⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ Broca x infected gn! reader ─⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Pale and bold shades of yellow

“The sparks… they’re rather pretty aren’t they?” Broca paused what he was doing as he heard your voice. “(Name)? Why are you up? You’re sick, go back to bed.” The feline walked towards you, hugging you not too tight in fear of hurting you. “We both have oripathy so that also means you have to go to bed too~” You reasoned with him, giving Broca a weak smile before following with a cough. “Easy. Here, sit down.” Broca said as he led you to a chair, carefully helping you sit down as a worried expression was on his face. “Tsk, the medics already told you to rest. Especially with how reckless you got with the last operation.” Broca scolded as he carefully examined your face, although his face wasn’t showing emotion you saw how his eyes were filled with them. You can’t help but chuckle as you feel his hands cup your cheeks. “Yes, okay i’ll rest, but I’ve been missing you that’s all. Now let me see my big kitty at work~” You teased him with the silly nickname you’ve given him throughout your relationship and it never fails to make him flustered. 

“You… Nope, we’re going to rest.” Broca suddenly carried you like a sack of potatoes as he huffed at your antics. “Woah- HEY HEY I’M SICK REMEMBER?!?!” You protested as Broca carried you through the halls, other operators were either staring or laughing at the two of you. Broca placed you down, feeling a bit lightheaded from the sudden changes. “Where- huh… This is my dorm room…?” “Come on.” Broca ushered you to open your room as you quizzically looked at him. “You said I should rest too, right? Come on.” Broca huffed as you saw how his ears turned red, you couldn’t help but chuckle as you opened your dorm room. Broca saw how disorganized your dorm looked, he can’t help but sigh at the sight. He wasted no time in (carefully) dragging you to your bed, the sound of the door closing softly with hum, sitting you down as he checked on your complexion again like a worried mother. “Broca-” “Don’t be so reckless next time, (Name).” Ah. You heard how soft and broken his voice was as if he was about to cry. From the outside Broca looked like he didn’t care all that much but you knew otherwise, even Chiave and Aosta did. “I’m sorry.” Was all you could say as you leaned in to hug his big frame. There was guilt swirling in your thoughts as you kept hugging Broca. He also knew that you were just doing what you can to make sure that the operation was successful but the last one you went to was you almost sacrificing your life, even getting oripathy from it with how much exposure you got from the surrounding originium in the area.  “Promise me you wont be that reckless again, (name)” Broca kissed your forehead as he sat beside you, hugging your being. The worry was evident in his actions as he rubbed soothing patterns on your back.

“I can’t promise something like that, love, but I will try.” You squeezed his body tight as you relished in his embrace the fatigue of everything that happened during your operation crashing down on your body as you stayed within his arms.

“Okay time for you to back off big guy, I’m starting to get hungry.” You slightly pushed Broca off you, not strong enough to push him away but enough to indicate that you want him to get off.

“Stay here, I’ll go grab something from the cafeteria.” Broca stood up from your bed as he gave you a kiss on your cheek before leaving your dorm to grab food.

As soon as Broca left your dorm, you were left alone with your thoughts. The decisions and severity of the last operation and how it cost you to contract oripathy was slowly coming back to you. Remembering how each strike you did was reaching your limit, the originium you picked up despite the risks and using it as a makeshift explosive.

You can’t help but laugh at your own actions and now you were sure you were bound to die early. A sad smile adorning your lips as tears threaten to fall. “He must’ve been so worried…” Wiping your tears you stared into the metal surrounding you deciding to lay on the bed. “I really am sorry…”

“If you’re sorry then at least eat to recover your strength.” Broca’s voice entered your voice as you sat up looking at the Feline entering your dorm, the door closing behind him.

“You’re fast~”

“Aosta was about to send you food and met him along the way and just gave it to me.”

“I see.” You smiled as Broca sat down with the tray of food in his hands.

“I love you”

“I know, Broca.”

You chuckled as he personally fed you, those eyes that felt like the bold thunder yet showed gentle and warmth as it gleamed in the pale light.

“I love you too.”

[menaceofrhodes]

The S and O to the ABC. || Broca x GN!Reader

The ABC Trio was very enthusiastic today.

The A in the Trio woke up with a feeling of joy. The B broke a few eggs while trying to make an omelet, so nervous was he. C stands for Crazy, for some reason he felt more nervous and joyful than the other two. He's looking forward to B's confession to his S and O!

It was Chiave who knew from day one how one of his best friends had a crush on you. Emphasizing the had, he knows that today will be the day when you and his best friend will finally click together like two pairs of magnets. Indivisible even.

It was certainly a surprise for Broca to hear what Chiave saw between you. Mayhap he did like the thought of being together with you, and getting close enough to you to reach for your hand, but isn't that weird and obsessive? Was it weird to think about you the most during the day and night?

Chiave had to reassure him a lot that he wasn't being weird for having a fat crush on you!

Broca's confidence has been built thanks to his friends' support. As the three eat together for breakfast, discussing the exciting plan together, mostly because Chiave was giddy too since he's never seen Broca being so nervous and flustered before, not even being able to stomach his breakfast as the butterflies took most of the space in.

Broca flipped his phone open and clicked on your chat. Chiave peeks a bit, wondering how the big, mighty Broca acts with you when you're alone with him. Chiave holds the largest grin back, containing his laughter well. What!! Why was Broca acting so sweet around you? What are all these cat GIFs for? You two already text like an old couple! But then he sees Broca's stupid smile, and he coos, 'Oh, Broca, who knew you were such a big softie!'

Quickly, he shuts his phone. 'You don't mind butting into my privacy?' Inquires Broca with a frown on his lips. 'Not much, at least! So what were you guys talking about?' asks Chiave with a smirk on his face. 'We were just planning where to meet after work today.'

Aosta buts in with an 'Ooooh, right. You plan on confessing today.' As he takes a small sip from his cup of coffee, trying to kill his morning tiredness. 'Notify me when you don't get together, and I'll help you through, or, erm, when you do make it, I'll be cheering for you two.' As he says this with a low voice and tired eyes, he bumps slowly his fist into the air, forcing a quiet cheer out of his throat.

'WHAT? Don't say that, don't jinx it! Of course, the feelings are mutual. You weren't there when Broca got to help them carry the heavy set of armor!' Declares Chiave, protecting the honor of Broca.

Broca turns to Aosta, sincerely thanking him for the offer, as he ignores Chiave's theatrical display of affection to him. He does admit to himself, he feels much more nervous now because Aosta spoke about what he feared all week long since he's been thinking about confessing to you.

Aosta yawns, 'Alright, let's get going.'

Aosta picks the plates up, whereas Broca cleans the table up and Chiave gives them moral support through lame cheers.

Aosta is the first to go, as Broca and Chiave follow him through the halls until they reach their designations of work. 

During their work, they all thought about the outcome of the day.

Aosta felt like he upset Broca a bit this morning, hopefully, he didn't jinx it for him. He'd have to blame himself for doing so.

Broca has been covering very well how nervous he truly felt. If anyone could read his thoughts, then they would hear nothing but nervous screams and cries. He feels so sick thinking about telling you how he feels.

Meanwhile, Chiave was bored to death and wishes to just know the outcome. He was very often tempted to just be upfront with you and just spell it out for Broca how he's been feeling about you. But then he wouldn't be a good friend and neither does he want to upset his friend and ruin everything, so he just waits.

They wait.

The evening slowly arrives as the Trio makes it out of their training and work. It's been a hell of a day, full of nerves.

But here he is, standing in front of your door. He watches the door knob intently. What if he messes it up? He didn't know how to read your feelings either, you're such a kind soul, surely you would give him a bit of mercy and let him down gently, right?

'Psst! Broca, over here!!'

Broca's head turns to the direction of the noise, seeing his two friends peeking around the corner with their thumbs up. 'You can do it, Broca!' whispers Aosta, 'Love never loses, Broc!' quietly cheers Chiave.

Here he goes, with a bit more confidence, and he knocks on your door. Even though the wait hasn't been long, he feels like he needs to let it out immediately.

'Hi, Broca! You're all dressed up, what's the occasion for this?'

Your Pajamas mess a bit with his plans, he clutches onto the bouquet behind his back to get him out of this fatigue state. "If you're free right now, I would like to take you out on a date.'"

Ah. He phrased it like a matter of fact rather than a question. Did he blow it with you now?

'I would love to, just wait here for a bit and I get dressed up, immediately!!' as you take your leave and close the door behind you.

The A and C to the B come out forward and slap him on his back, probably also pushing his Soul back where it belongs. 'You've done so well!', 'I told you they would like you back ’, and 'We see you after your date!' got said after they left in a quick turn.

After you come back, Broca pushes the Bouquet into you. 'These are also for you.'

With a smile on your lips, you gladly take them inside and put them into a vase where they will blossom, just like you and Broca.

Bonus Headcanons ღ Trust me, he’s not going to hold your hand until you try to reach out to him first. “You really want to hold my hand…? Sure, let’s just not do it in public.”

ღ He’s going to try to pay for everything, keyword is that he’s going to try. He usually doesn’t have that much money on hand, but he did save up for this occasion!

ღ Broca’s love language is that he likes to fix or modify your devices.

ღ You show him that your weapons jams, and he’ll gladly put time into fixing and making it better for you. He enjoys doing that, but he also would like to hear compliments from you about his work.

ღ While he’s with you on this date, nothing else will be on his mind. Thinking about why your laugh makes him feel so good, or how your light touches send bolts through his body. With you, he feels so carefree for a man with a rough past that was always on the look-out. 

ღ He absentmindedly wraps his arm around your shoulder, so you wouldn’t get separated in the crowd.

ღ If someone bumps into you, he’d glare daggers at them and make sure you are not hurt anywhere.

ღ There’s not going to be a kiss on the first date, he’s rather a late bloomer. Though, he would like to give you a hug at the end of your first date. No matter your height, he’s going to wrap these two strong arms around you! 

ღ You swear you saw a tuft of white and red fur a few times, but not that your mind, your eyes were held captive by someone else! Author Note

I'm so sorry for the rushed ending, but I hope you can enjoy this regardless, dear anon!!(•ㅅ•)

[vivalas-vega]

new perspectives / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part five

I wanted to get this one out quickly for y’all!! here is the much needed relief we all needed after that last chapter. as always, lmk what you think and if you want to be added to the taglist!

new perspectives / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part five

add yourself to my taglist

prologue - one - two - three - four 

word count: 4.3k

warnings: language, angst, basically another grey’s anatomy ep so... medical inaccuracies and drama !!!

Sitting in one of the imaging rooms in your own hospital, a room you’d previously spent countless hours in and would go on to spend countless more, brought you a small bit of peace. You were surrounded by familiar faces and doctors you trusted and respected, and that made a world of a difference in your confidence for Mary’s outcome. Despite how close you were to the case no one was excluding you from conversations or keeping you out of the loop on anything, you were given just as much of a voice as Dr. Lewis in dictating her care as you looked over several of her scans and brainstormed a game plan. If this was truly your case you would have kicked your own ass to the curb several hours ago but the patience and grace everyone was extending you didn’t go unnoticed. 

“What if you try coming in through here?” you asked, and Dr. Lewis pondered your suggestion for a moment, trying to visualize before shaking his head.

“If I insert the probe here,” he said, illustrating the path with his fingers, “I’m going to disrupt something here,” he circled around Broca’s Area. “Do that and she’ll lose the ability to speak, she’s a teacher right?”

“Third grade, and she’s damn good at it,” you sighed.

“Then we aren’t taking any risks, I think our best course here is to go in this way,” he said, outlining a new pathway and you nodded.

“It’s still tricky but I think that’s going to be the best approach,” you agreed. 

“Why did you end up leaving neuro? You’ve clearly got a knack for it,” he asked suddenly, looking you over curiously.

“I loved neuro, did Dr. Adams tell you he used to call us the Brain Buddies?” you asked and he shook his head laughing. “He’d go around the hospital saying it like we were some superhero duo… I used to think there was no high like neurosurgery, but then one day there was this massive train crash. Most people were too unstable to move so we went to them. When we got there most had already died and the ones who hadn’t were one slight breeze away from following suit. There was this girl, about my age, who was bleeding out faster than I could control. Nothing was working and I began to panic… trauma is quick and dirty, there’s no time to gameplan or even think, you just have to figure it out as you go and be resourceful, so I used dirt,” you chuckled though it really wasn’t funny. “I just scooped a handful and packed the wound and it worked… we had to load her up on so many antibiotics she got C. Diff and the poor thing needed a fecal transplant but she made a full recovery,” you said with a smile. “That was a high unlike anything else, and I just never looked back. Trauma is where all the fun is.” 

“You sound exactly like one of my buddies who’s a doctor with the Army… you ever considered that path?”

“Briefly but… Jake, Mary’s son, is in the Navy. Every deployment crushes both of our parents and they worry, I couldn’t do that to them… I think they’d all lose their minds if they lost both of their kids to that life,” you said and he nodded.

“Well, let’s go give her some good news, let her know what the plan is.” Mary was surprisingly calm throughout the whole thing, she didn’t even blink when Dr. Lewis briefed her on all the risks (stroke, paralysis, loss of speech, death), all she had said was well, if I can’t speak there’s always sign language and death is better than a painful year of chemo. Really she didn’t care about any of it, she asked if you agreed with his approach and she’d said that was all she needed to know when you’d answered yes. She’d truly put all of her trust in you, she let go of the whole thing and just accepted that because you said it would be okay that it would… and that terrifies you beyond belief. You were a confident doctor, always had been, but right now with her looking at you with such pride and peace you felt sick, knowing that no matter how good a patient’s outcome looks going into surgery that can always change at the drop of a hat.

“That’s the attitude, Mary, keep that up… patients who go in with a positive outlook are much more likely to come out the other side,” Dr. Lewis said. You oversaw the interns in charge of her pre-op care and she had watched through amused eyes as you ordered them around and even called you a hardass… much like Jake had done when he’d visited you in Boston. 

“It seems mean now but Dr. Stevens will tell you his skills have improved since I came around to knock some sense into him. If you put the fear of god in them they’re much more malleable,” you joked.

“It must be working because they are terrified to disappoint you,” Mary said and you didn’t miss how proud she sounded.

“Jupiter is very tough, tougher than any of the attendings but I’ve learned a lot from her,” Dr. Stevens confirmed and you narrowed your eyes at him. “And she makes a mean chocolate chip cookie, I heard that was your recipe.”

“Stop kissing my ass and bring me her updated labs,” you said and he nodded quickly as we went to leave the room, “and just because I’m off duty that doesn’t mean I’m not doctor to you!” you called after him and Mary just laughed.

“I like seeing this side of you,” she said, looking up at you appreciatively and you gave her a warm smile. “If I’m being honest I thought wanting to be a surgeon at twelve years old was just a crazy phase… thought you maybe saw a cool doctor in a movie or something but looking at you now… I couldn’t imagine you doing anything else,” she said.

“I wouldn’t be here without you,” you said, giving her hand a squeeze and you noticed Jake enter the room without saying a word.

“You’ll be in the surgery?” she asked and you nodded.

“I’m not allowed to be involved in the actual operation… it’s too much of a conflict of interest, but Dr. Lewis has graciously agreed to let me be in the room with you.”

“That makes me feel better… knowing you’ll be there,” she said and you gave her another smile before you excused yourself to step into the hallway when Dr. Stevens flagged you down and you looked over her labs in relief.

“What do these tell you?” you asked, handing the paper back to him and he looked at you curiously for a moment, “I taught you better than this, Dr. Stevens, I know you can read labs,” you said.

“I just… I didn’t expect you to be teaching right now,” he said and you watched as he looked over the paper and processed the information. “These all look good, she’s in optimal shape to be heading into surgery,” he said and you nodded.

“Exactly, let Dr. Lewis know and page me when you’re taking her up.”

“Didn’t expect you to be teaching right now either,” you heard Jake say and you turned around to face him with a sigh.

“Your mom’s case is an incredible teaching example and Dr. Stevens shows promise within neuro. Your mom understands that, she’s thrilled he’s getting to learn from her and she wants me to take the opportunity to teach when I can, it’s my job.” you said.

“But you’re not working right now,” he said and you gave a soft nod.

“You’re right, I’m not… I’m just doing everything I can to make sure she receives the best standard of care and teaching when I have the opportunity to ensures that, not just for her but for everyone else’s mom that comes in after her.” He just nodded and you could tell that he was annoyed with you. “Jake, just talk to me.”

“We’ve already gone through the procedure, I don’t need to talk about it anymore,” he replied and you furrowed your brows.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I need you, J. I need you and you’re not here,” he said in a hushed whisper, trying to avoid the nosy ears of your interns at the desk just a few feet away.

“I’m right here,” you said but he just shook his head.

“You’re not. You’re making calls and teaching interns, or holed away in an imaging room and you’re talking to me like I’m just some patient’s family member. There’s enough doctors around here, I just needed you… I needed you to be my Jupiter through this and you were just another doctor,” he said with a disappointed look before stepping back into his mother’s room and any tension that had eased after setting the plan in place with Dr. Lewis was back in full force. Your heart ached and you wanted to go after him but you knew this wasn’t the moment… he was angry and scared and he didn’t understand where you were coming from and that was all okay. There was no way to rationalize with his mother heading into brain surgery in less than an hour and you chose to believe that when the dust settled and she came out the other side things would level out but as selfish as it was… you needed a moment. A moment to clear your head and think so you wandered down to the emergency department, you let your eyes rake over the space as you took stock of how things were holding up in your absence and while you stood in front of the patient board you jumped when the Head of Trauma, Dr. Fowles approached you.

“What are you doing down here?” he asked, looking at you apologeticly as you placed a hand over your heart. 

“Needed a breather,” you said and he laughed.

“So you came to the pit for a little relaxation?” You nodded with a sheepish smile. “Want something to take your mind off it?”

“Please, I’ll take anything,” you said and he led you over to Bay Three and opened the curtain to reveal a beautiful laceration just begging for you to suture it. You introduced yourself as you gloved up and made small talk with her as you worked, taking your time to ensure she had as little scarring as possible.

“One minute you’re making lunch for your boyfriend, who is incredibly ungrateful by the way, and the next you’re in the ER because you zoned out wondering what your old college boyfriend was up to and sliced right through the avocado and into your hand,” she sighed and you chuckled.

“Never go down the college boyfriend rabbit hole, it’s never worth it,” you said. You finally felt like yourself, sure you’d been acting like a doctor nonstop for the past three days but it was all so deeply personal. This was cut and dry, you’d patch her up and send her on her way and likely never see her again. This was medicine without baggage and it felt so good. You hoped Jake was still somewhere on the other side of the hospital, if he saw you right now with that sparkle back in your eye hunched over this patient's open palm it would only make matters worse.

“You got lucky, I’m looking at the tendon here but you didn’t cut through… could be a sign… or a wake up call,” you suggested and she nodded.

“A sign to dump his sorry ass and find someone who will actually drive me to the ER instead of making me get blood all over my brand new car? Yeah, I’m one step ahead of you,” she said and you let out a soft laugh. 

“Well, you’re all good. Take the antibiotics, make sure you’re eating things with lots of good bacteria and fully finish the course even if it doesn’t feel like it’s doing anything… and please, don’t let him reel you back in the way they’re always so good at,” you said with a smile as you pulled your gloves off and went to the desk to update her chart.

“You’re a junkie,” Dr. Fowles said and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Takes one to know one,” you said, handing him the chart as your pager beeped and he wished you luck as you ran towards the elevator. You texted Jake to let him know you’d come out with an update once you had one and were on your way to meet them in the OR. Standing in the scrub room and overlooking them prepping Mary through the window you took a deep breath, you knew things would move quickly the second you got her here but it truly felt like one minute you were at the Hard Deck laughing with your friends and the next you’re here… about to step into surgery on one of the most important people in your life.

“I know you can’t tell through my mask, but I’m smiling right now,” you said as you approached her.

“I know, honey,” she replied and the anesthesiologist looked at you to let you know they were ready when you were. “Promise me something,” she said and you just shook your head.

“I’m not making you any promises, Mary, you’re not on your deathbed.”

“Promise me that when I’m out of the woods you are going to put me and John and your parents out of our misery and finally kiss that son of mine,” she said and you let out a shocked laugh.

“You are about to go under for brain surgery and that’s what you’re worried about right now?” you teased.

“You two drive me nuts! Just give me a wedding already.” she said and you shook your head.

“I’ll see what I can do… I’ll see you after, okay?” you said, nodding to the anesthesiologist. “Countdown from ten for me.”

“Ten… nine… give me a wedding… eight… seven-” she slurred as she fell under and you just chuckled to yourself as Dr. Lewis entered the room.

“Alright, Jupiter… I have been patient with you all day as you made me run through my surgical plan a dozen times and all but demanded to be in here, and I was happy to oblige because I like you, however there will not be a peep out of you from here on out, are we understood?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Good, because I will throw you out so please don’t make me have to.” You watched as he began, your eyes intently flitting between his hands and the monitor that was displaying an aerial view of the surgical field and you felt nausea begin to creep in. You listened as Dr. Fowles narrated everything he was doing to Dr. Stevens, who you wanted to throw a bedpan at when they got eyes on the tumor… really you couldn’t be mad, his reaction was warranted and it was cool, but it would be a hell of a lot cooler if that tumor wasn’t in Jake’s mom’s head. You listened as Dr. Fowles changed his surgical approach, this was always a possibility. The scans give you a lot of information but any plans are just loose ideas until you actually get in there and see what’s going on, and you bit your tongue as you let him make his best judgment call on how to proceed. You were now two hours into the surgery but it felt like no time had passed at all.

“Alright, I think we’re ready to pull this sucker out, Dr. Stevens would you like to man the cautery?” Dr. Fowles asked and your heart stuttered in your chest.

“Absolutely not,” you said before your mind could catch up and tell you to keep your mouth shut.

“Are we forgetting you’re not to speak in this OR?”

“With all due respect sir, as promising as Dr. Stevens is, one wrong move with that cautery and all of this will have been for nothing.” you said and you watched as his hands stilled on the monitor.

“It seems Jupiter doesn’t want you to learn today,” Dr. Fowles said and Dr. Stevens looked between the two of you, clearly stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“If it’s alright with you sir, I’ll just observe. She’s right, I’ve never cauterized before and I still have a lot I want to learn from her… I’d rather not jeopardize that by sending her best friend's mom to the vegetable patch.” he said and you nodded in satisfaction. You would personally see to it that Dr. Stevens scrubbed in with you on every one of your surgeries for the foreseeable future to make up for the learning opportunity you’d just robbed him of. Things seemed to be progressing smoothly until the monitors started beeping frantically and you watched as her BP suddenly tanked and you felt your stomach drop as Dr. Fowles started barking out orders that weren’t quite registering in your ears.

“No… no, no no,” you muttered, a tidal wave of panic crashing over you as you ran out into the hallway and braced yourself on a wall, trying desperately to get your breathing under control. You quickly hunched over a trash can and let the nausea take over, vomiting onto the pile of discarded gloves and trauma gowns as the door opened to reveal a scrub nurse.

“Dr. Fowles is asking you to come back in,” she said and you shook your head, fighting the tears that were threatening to fall. “Come on, just come see,” she said and you placed your mask back over your face as you tentatively followed.

“You missed the good part, Jupiter… the tumor is out.”

“Her vitals?” you asked, taking a small step closer as you looked at the monitors but you didn’t trust your eyes.

“She’s a fighter,” he answered and you sighed in relief. “I’m about to pack with gelfoam but it appears we are out of the woods. Would you like to go update them as I close?” he asked but you were already halfway out the door, ripping off your mask and sprinting down the hallways until you burst into the waiting area. Jake and John jumped up, looking at you expectantly and as they took in your tear streaked face and rapid breathing you watched as their faces fell.

“No! No no no,” you said, taking in a sharp breath. “It’s good, it all went good, they’re closing now, she’ll be in recovery within the half hour,” you said and they both exhaled in relief. 

“Oh thank god,” John whispered, pulling you in for a bone crushing hug. “Thank you,” he pulled away to place a kiss on your forehead. “There will never be enough thank you’s for this,” he said as he wiped his own tears. You looked over to Jake who had sunk into one of the chairs with his head hung in his hands and you crouched on the floor in front of him and gently placed a hand on his knee.

“Jake? She’s going to be okay,” you said and he lifted his head to look at you with glassy eyes, “it went as well as we could have hoped. We won’t be certain until she wakes up but I have a very good feeling.” 

“J…” he started, but was cut off by his own tears and you pushed him back in his seat to perch on his legs and pull him into your chest.

“I know…” you soothed, rubbing a hand up and down his back. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you just sat there as you held him, whispering reassurances into his ear. You hooked a finger on his chin, softly tilting his head to look up at you before resting your palms on his cheeks. “I’m going to call my parents, let them know… and Rooster too, everyone’s been really worried,” you said and he nodded. You placed a kiss on his forehead as you slid off his lap and you stepped away and pulled out your phone. Your mother had cried, sobbed really, and your dad told you to pass along their well wishes for recovery when he took over the call, you could hear the relief in his voice as he told you how proud he was of you.

“Please tell me she’s okay,” Rooster said as he answered and you let out a breathy laugh.

“She’s good… we’re in the wait and see portion, but I think we’re in the clear. Can you talk with Mav? She’ll be out of here in a few days but this whole thing has him pretty rattled. I know I don’t have the authority but I’m not clearing him for work just yet,” you said and Rooster chuckled.

“Doctor’s orders,” he said and you let out a soft laugh as well. “Mav said to take all the time he needs, there’s no rush to get back.” You thanked him as you hung up, telling him to pass it along to the rest of the Dagger’s as well for how supportive they’ve been throughout. Your pager went off as you approached the two of them and you gave them a reassuring look.

“She’s in post op now, I’m confident everything is fine but I’m going to head up and just be sure, okay?” you said and they nodded as you made your way to the elevator and you all but ran into the room, eyes immediately scanning the brain activity monitor.

“How’s it looking?” you asked a bit frantically.

“Looking good,” Dr. Fowles answered as you grabbed her chart from him to look it over. “You know as well as I do we won’t know for sure until she wakes up but I don’t think we should expect any deficits.” You dropped the chart into its place at the end of her bed and threw your arms around him.

“I know this is unprofessional but just go with it,” you said as you started crying again and he chuckled as he reciprocated and rubbed along your back. “I owe you big time, thank you for everything… I am available for any and every pro-bono surgery you need me for from here on out,” you said. 

“I think I’ll hold onto my favor for a little while,” he teased as you pulled away and you laughed as you wiped your cheeks and asked an orderly to grab Jake and John.

“Well, whatever it is it better be big, I owe you a lifetime's worth of thank you’s.” He slipped out of the room and let you know he would check back later and you felt the dark cloud that had been hovering over you the past few days begin to dissipate and with it brought the crushing weight of every feeling you’d been fighting off. You let out a broken sob and immediately turned to leave the room, not noticing Jake walking down the hallway as you hurried the opposite direction and shut yourself into an on-call room. He poked his head into his mom’s room, making sure everything was okay before chasing after you and he found you sitting on the floor with your back against a nightstand and your head between your knees as you tried to regulate your breathing. He was silent as he sat beside you and you lifted your head slightly.

“You don’t need to be here,” you choked out, “I know you’re mad at me, and it’s… I’m okay, really, go sit with your mom.” He didn’t respond, instead he reached around you to grip underneath your arms and pulled you to sit between his legs where he wrapped himself around you and it was the final straw to push you over the edge. You leaned back against him as he held you tight and fell apart in his arms… you’d tried to say something but nothing would come out around your cries, and Jake just let you get it all out.

“I’m not mad at you,” he finally said when your breathing started to even out. “I was but… I was wrong. I didn’t-” he stopped himself for a moment, taking a deep breath as he fought his own tears. “Not once did I stop and consider what this was like for you, I was selfish. You.. I mean, god Jupiter,” he let out a humorless laugh. “You swept in and had this handled in less than three days. I was so wrapped up in what you weren’t doing that I didn’t think about what you were doing, and that was everything… you held it together for all of us, you made sure she would be okay. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you sniffled.

“Yes, I do. I thought you weren’t there for me, but you were. You always are, even if I don’t see it at first. I’m so sorry that I made this harder on you,” he said, giving you another squeeze and you melted against him. “I was mad at you for who you are, and that’s… I say how proud I am of the doctor you’ve become and in the moment that you were doing everything you could to help my mom I was an absolute asshole.”

“You weren’t an asshole… I treated you like a patient’s family, and you reacted the way family does.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “Do you want to go check on your mom?” you asked and he shook his head.

“No. I want to just sit here with you for a little while if that’s okay,” he replied and you nodded, letting your head fall against his arm.

“Yeah, that’s okay.”

previous / next

taglist:  @mamaskillerqueen @clancycucumber230 @the-romanian-is-bae @dempy @alldaysdreamers @zzsloth @emma8895eb @novagreen04 @classyunknownlover @olliepig @purplevortexx @mayhemmanaged @ohgodnotagainn @smoothdogsgirl​ (if your username is struck through, I couldn’t tag you - sorry!)​

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

HAI LATI!!

Congrats on getting yato!! I noticed u mentioned my beloved mafia cat in that post which congrats on getting him also!! Do you have any thoughts on Chiave's gang? (chiave, aosta, broca) :0

I treasure them so dearly but I never see anything about them in the x reader sphere which makes me sad 😭 your mention made me curious if u had any thoughts on them bc I JUMP at the sight of anything involving the ABC gang

goobers, they are all goobers. i don't care if aosta and broca have all the braincells that chiave lost, they are goobers by default. they are the three goobers. i love them.

the goobers.

[stargaterevival]

You and Me

Daniel x Reader (gn!reader, rated M)

Summary:

As you settle into working in the Stargate program, you become more and more captivated by Dr. Jackson. A friendship slowly blooms between the two of you. Along the way you also learn a lot about yourself. However, things mysteriously start going wrong, jeopardising your relationship with Daniel and everything you’ve worked for.

Chapter 21: "Inside the Cell" now up on Ao3

Daniel's hand in his pocket finds a coin, it’s a toonie. He wonders how he ended up with it as he sets it on its edge on the briefing room table and watches it spinning like all the possibilities that spin within his mind.

Reference images: The Broca Divide

Taglist: @geekygumiho @i-am-morrigans-apprentice @nadiiselsil @rightbrainboredom @jgem87 @riverageleis @cuillere (Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list.)

[marahuyos]

anon asked: Hey there 👋 could you possibly write a scenario for Arknights where Aosta, Chiave, and Broca (basically Chiave’s gang) meet a female operator at Rhodes Island and as they get to know her better they start to view her as like their little sister? :0

*:･ﾟ✧ i dont have aosta rip :<

gn!reader | reader is not doctor | reader is a vulpo

tw: none

• It wasn’t a surprise for either Broca or Aosta for Chiave to go on without the other. Especially when they were recruited into Rhodes Island. After all, they didn’t expect to find refuge after what happened in Siracusa. So to have a place where they can crash is something no short of a miracle.

• But this was still strange and foreign territory. The Doctor was nice enough to accommodate them but that didn’t mean that the trio trusted them. Then again, Chiave just seemed to regard everyone in Rhodes Island a “bro”, most specifically the young children operators. It wasn’t a rare sight for him to ruffle Popukar’s or Suzuran’s head as he always seemed so carefree.

“Yo, bros!” Chiave exclaimed, waving his other bros with him. Steeling themselves for whatever Chiave has to say, they walked closer. They soon noticed you, clutching Chiave’s shirt as you were tall enough to reach below his chest. The sight of a kid clinging to Chiave wasn’t a surprise. The surprise were the words that spewed from his mouth.

“Meet the newest recruit in our gang!”

• Deadass either Broca or Aosta said “You can’t take children for the mafia, dumbass.”

• But they can’t really deny Chiave when you clung to the three of them so adorably. While other child operators kept to themselves, you persisted with these three specifically. It didn’t matter how scary Broca is or Aosta shrugs you off, you would always insist the Doctor to put you with them whenever there’s an operation.

• They haven’t found anyone so tenacious, much less a child such as you. Your relationship with them was growing steadier each day, to the point that Broca and Aosta had to ask Chiave if you were coming along with them.

The biggest, smuggest smirk appeared on Chiave’s face as he looked at his bros faces. “I told you y’all are gonna come around!”

As he picked you up and sat you on his shoulder, you giggled as you patted Chiave’s ears. “You really wanna come with me? Willingly?”

Aosta rolled his eyes. “It just... wouldn’t be the same without her.”

The delighted squeal that both Chiave and you emitted echoed in the hallway as you hugged Aosta tightly.

As Broca slowly inched his way away from his friends, he flinched when you and Chiave whipped your heads, eyes glinting.

• Once their contract with Rhodes Island ends, they were definitely going to adopt you into their gang. Adoption papers from Orchid be damned, these three will become your weird-ass uncles as part of the mafia.

[arknights-imagines]

Broca for Chrismas special! Loved how you portrayed him in that one piece you wrote, and I'm honestly starving for more content with him,,,

From, Broca

Christmas Letter and Gift event

Early in the day, you head to your mailbox to pick up whatever documents are left there, but you instead discover a small cube-shaped box and a brown envelope. Curiously enough, you don't remember ordering anything, nor were you expecting any kind of package. You bring them back to your office nevertheless, inspecting them on your way.

There’s no names or anything of the sort on the box nor the envelope - where were these coming from? Upon reaching your office, you shut the door and sit at your desk immediately, placing the box on your desktop while keeping the envelope in your hands.

It’s paper is rough and the envelope gives off an almost intimidating feel; after again confirming that there’s nothing on the front or back of the envelope, you tear it open to reveal a slightly wrinkled sheet of paper. You blink; that wasn't exactly what you were expecting from such a mysterious envelope, but when you completely remove the paper from its casing and unfold it, it all makes a little more sense.

It’s a letter - the paper has clearly been fidgeted with quite a bit, in fact, it even looks like it was crumpled into a ball only to be smoothed out as best as possible, a sign that the sender was having doubts or conflicting feelings. But of more importance is the small yet bold handwriting that makes up the body of the letter; the printing is so distinctive that in an instant you know who your mysterious sender is.

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

Morning. Or, afternoon, depending on whenever you decide to read this.

Good grief...no way of backing out now.

I don’t like Christmas. What’s there to like? The weather outside makes it impossible to do anything, the air smells too sweet, all the lights are irritatingly bright and the carols everyone sings sound like a broken record with how repetitive they are.

So when Chiave and Aosta asked me what I was getting you for Christmas, I was convinced that they had utterly lost it and answered them explaining how I wouldn't be giving you anything special for such a laughable occasion.

Their reactions to my own reaction were unnecessary, if you ask me: Chiave was somehow a little offended, and Aosta looked confused. One of them insisted I had to get you something because we were...lovers, which was so ridiculous I almost got up and left the room completely. I reminded them that I had no reason to, and then Aosta looked me directly in the eye and said something.

“You had no reason to become so close to them either.”

Tch, a bold claim. But when I thought about it….he’s right. Why I let you in and allowed something to form between us, I don’t exactly know, but I don’t particularly care, because I don't at all regret my choice. My reasoning behind everything I’ve done for you is that you mean...a lot to me. When I imagined the face you might make if you received a gift from me...good grief, who said you were allowed to cause my heart to beat so fast?

Even if I were to get you a gift, it wasn't as if I had anything suitable to give to you.

Aosta suggested a letter. A stupid idea, considering I’m not particulary fond of using words for much of anything, but between myself, him and Chiave, it was the only feasible one.

So, next time you see him, you should really say ‘thank you’.

Christmas...didn't particularly celebrate it in Siracusa. The Mafia weren't a very festive organization. I’ve never needed to write Christmas letters or think about Christmas gifts - good grief, coming to Rhodes Island really has been a hefty change for me. Never thought I’d be writing a holiday letter to my...lover. Tch, that word…

[Name]. Even now it’s hard for me to believe that I care so intensely for you. The only people I’ve had these many feelings for are Aosta and Chiave, but even the way I feel toward them is nothing like the jumbled pile of emotions you cause in me.

Though everything, I want to stand with you. I want to protect you, I want to be alone with you. Tch...it’s selfish of me, but sometimes all I want to do is get away from the corruption of this world and hold you in my arms.

You should pat yourself on the back - if not for your continuous efforts to grow closer to me, we would still be strangers. I might’ve been the one who let my walls fall to allow you closer to me, but, you were the one who had the courage to approach me despite everything you had heard. Because of you, I feel like I have a place at Rhodes Island.

Don’t know if I ever thanked you for that…so thanks.

Good grief, to be honest...I’m not really doing all of this because it’s Christmas. I just think...it’s about time I use something to express this adoration I feel for you. Tch, again with all these words I never thought I’d be using.

Didn't think I would end up getting you something, but besides the fact that Chaive was so annoyingly persistent in asking me about it that I changed my decision so he left me alone, your face kept forcing its way into my mind everytime I told myself I wouldn't be giving you anything.

This gift and this letter aren't about Christmas. They're about you and I. They're my best attempt in expressing how much I...care about you and want you to be happy. [Name], I’ve told you before - I will do anything you ask, because ‘for you’ is more than a good enough reason in my mind. But when it comes to fulfilling materialistic or emotional wants, I’m not very skilled.

If someday you decide the happiest place for you isn't with me, then very well. But until then, I will try my hardest to make you feel at ease - tch, even if it makes my face red and my heart race.

This whole Christmas letter thing...didn't go as bad as I thought it would. I’m not particularly eloquent, but me writing this to you...good grief, I’m probably going to be thinking about you reading this hours from now.

I have no intent in wasting your time. Careful with your gift, and...tch, when you can, come see me. Love you.

Broca

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

Heart still feeling fuzzy from the letter, you hurriedly transfer your attention to the small cube box again; heeding Broca’s advisement to be cautious when handling it, you cut open the tape sealing its lid carefully, eyes full of eagerness as you open the package.

From inside the box comes a miniature, carefully crafted model of yourself, a smile on its face. Every detail, from the patterns on your Rhodes Island jacket to the colour of your eyes are captured perfectly. Your lips upturn to mirror the warm grin the model of you wears as you hold it carefully in your palm - this was Broca’s work, quite obviously. His effort can really be felt, and beyond that, you’re surprised with how every one of your features are portrayed in such a captivating manner; your chest explodes with warmth at the both fact that he worked so hard on something just for you, and the realization that Broca really does view you with more warmth than he has ever felt toward anyone else.

Placing the miniature model on your desk carefully, you return to the box, turning it upside down and giving it a few shakes; a folded up sheet of paper falls from inside the box and onto your lap, causing you to blink.

Your fingers unfold it, and your eyes light up once more at the sight of Broca’s handwriting again, ‘Merry Christmas, [name]. The gift...tch, just take it. Don't particularly need anything in return.’ Though the first sentences are a little cold, the ones that follow after prompt you to stand and rush out your door wearing a smile, with Broca as your destination; ‘[Name]...good grief, this is bordering on begging but don't go. At one point, you meant nothing to me, but now...I don't think I’d be happier anywhere else but by your side.’

[chemmerson]

primaveral - chapter two

Hokage!Kakashi x Doctor!Reader, Post-War, Canon compliant

Chapter Summary: You help Kakashi with some paperwork.

Words: 4k

Warnings: none, just fluff and flirting

A/N: heyyyyy!! i missed writing!! and im so excited to continue this story. thanks for putting up with me everyone. i hope you like this chapter :)))

read on ao3

primaveral masterlist

late night talks

Left temporal lobe embolism…path of the embolism starts in the aorta…to left common cerebral—no, left common carotid, left internal carotid artery, left middle cerebral artery…

With your head in your hands, you puffed out your cheeks and let out a large sigh. You were in between patients, trying to go through some notes Sakura had just dropped by that she wanted you to look at. The particular embolism she was trying to look at was a tricky one. Maybe you would ask Shizune later.

You were in one of the shared offices of the hospital when you heard a knock on the door. It was another medic-nin.

“Doctor, it’s time to meet with Mr. Tanaka,” they said.

Shit, you had almost forgotten. You stood up quickly. “Right, thank you.”

You walked side by side with the other medic-nin who was one you were training to be part of the permanent staff for the new speech and hearing clinic in the hospital. The new speech and hearing clinic. Even just the thought of it made your heart burst with pride.

Two weeks had passed since the presentation, and the policies to build a new children’s health clinic as well as a speech and hearing clinic had gone through at the order of the Hokage. Preparations and arrangements for the clinics were in full swing, and the hospital had been a complete mess because of it. It didn’t really matter though, because the excitement was just so much better. All the hard work from everyone involved paid off, and it kept a small smile on your face most days.

As you walked down the hall on the way to your next patient, you took a deep breath. There was so much on your mind and so much to do, but when it came to your patients, they deserved your full and complete attention. Especially the patients that you had been seeing long-term.

Mr. Tanaka’s room was at the end of the hallway, and you slid open the door to his room. The window was open, letting in the nice sunshine and some fresh air.

You smiled when Mr. Tanaka turned to see who had just walked in. He gave you a small smile, and you walked over to sit in the chair by his bed. The medic-nin stood a bit behind you to observe.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Tanaka,” you greeted, grabbing the clipboard that was on the table next to him. “How are you today?”

Mr. Tanaka smiled and opened his mouth. Like you had been observing for several weeks, Mr. Tanaka tried to shape the sounds for his speech, making some strained sounds to try and get the words out that he wanted to say. You were patient while he tried to do the strategies that you had been going through with him.

Eventually, when he couldn’t produce the speech, he sighed in frustration, closing his eyes to try and focus. “You’re okay,” you reassured, and he nodded in understanding.

Mr. Tanaka’s case of Broca’s aphasia showed that while he comprehended language and was aware of his condition, he couldn’t produce the motor movements to produce the words he wanted to say. The lesion in his frontal lobe was caused by a traumatic brain injury that he had sustained during the war.

Again, Mr. Tanaka smiled and opened his mouth. “G-Good.”

You beamed. “That’s great, Mr. Tanaka. I’m glad to hear it.”

Mr. Tanaka turned his head towards the window, and then back at you, smiling quite big himself because he had gotten the word out. He opened his mouth, taking a deep breath.

“So…so…Su-u-u…sun.”

He pointed towards the window, and you laughed. “Isn’t it beautiful out today? The sun is just gorgeous.”

An enthusiastic smile and nod let you know that Mr. Tanaka was proud of his progress, and you were just as proud.

“Alright, Mr. Tanaka, let’s get started…”

———

After a full day of patients and meetings, you were exhausted to say the least.

Today had been the start of another round of hearing screenings for shinobi. Shinobi were already at risk of losing their hearing, and many had moderate hearing losses by the time they were well into their service due to the nature of the job. After the war, it had become much worse. Part of the post-war efforts were hearing screenings to assess shinobi’s hearing to ensure that the hospital was keeping up on rehabilitation. Between that and your own patients, you were ready to go home.

Your shift had technically ended about two hours ago, but as usual these days, you were always at the hospital until a lot later, using hunched over a desk with Sakura and Shizune. Whenever this happened, Shizune was usually already falling asleep, you were struggling to keep your eyes open, and Sakura was bright-eyed and motivated, ready to tackle all of the paperwork you had. You and Shizune weren’t that old, but the generation below you seemed to have this resilience that you just couldn’t keep up with. You supposed that’s just how it was usually was, the next generation needing to take over eventually.

Tonight though, Shizune was already asleep on the desk. You were sitting next to her reading over some administrative bullshit, and your eyes seemed to have taken a liking to this one particular line, one that you realized you had read probably a hundred times. God, it was so late. The office was deadly quiet besides the steady drone of the air conditioning. You didn’t blame Shizune for taking a snooze.

Sakura seemed to be getting tired too as she kept rubbing her eyes to try and stay awake. You looked at your paper one last time before lifting your head.

“Okay ladies, I think it’s time we call it quits tonight,” you announced with a sigh.

Shizune shot up from the desk with a gasp. “I’m awake!”

You chuckled, and Sakura smiled. “Yeah, you’re probably right. There’s just so much to go through, we’ll have to just take it in small chunks or we’ll get burnt out.”

“Ugh, I think I already am…” Shizune grumbled, wiping her eyes. “This paperwork is terrible.”

You sighed. “Yeah, but we have to get it done. Sakura, are you still meeting with Lord Sixth tomorrow to go through the other budget stuff regarding Suna?”

Sakura yawned, stretching her arms back. “Yeah, I think we are—“

Suddenly, Sakura gasped with wide eyes. “Oh shit! I completely forgot!”

“What?” You and Shizune both said simultaneously.

“Ino’s birthday,” Sakura said, covering her face into her hands. “It’s tomorrow night, but I told Kakashi-sensei I could go over the budget paperwork with him tomorrow night…Shizune! Can you go?”

Shizune shook her head. “I can’t tomorrow night, Tsunade-sama and I are traveling to see an old friend of hers, we won’t be back for a few days…”

Sakura groaned, but then lifted her eyes to you. “Sempai, can you do it?”

“Um,” you tried to wrack your brain for any possible plans you had. “I think I should be free. I mean, I’ll be here all day…”

Sakura lit up and beamed at you. “Oh perfect! You are my savior, Sempai. Seriously!”

You laughed lightly. “Of course! I think Ino would probably kill you if you didn’t go.”

“You’re totally right!” Sakura laughed. “But I told Kakashi-sensei I would be in his office at 5:00. Does that work for you?”

You nodded, finding no problem with the time. “Of course.”

“Alright, can we get out of here?” Shizune stood up. “I’m gonna fall asleep again.”

All three of you grabbed your things and walked out of the hospital together, chatting casually when the arrangements that had just been discussed hit you like a brick.

You didn’t really realize what you agreed to, just heard the words “budgets” and “paperwork” and said yes with a sleepy brain, knowing it all needed to be done. But Sakura was going to go through some with the Hokage.

Were you going to be alone with Kakashi all night tomorrow? Surely…surely there would be someone else there. But no, of course, there wouldn’t because Sakura hadn’t said anything about anyone else…and now you were fully freaking out.

Truthfully, the night where you had run into Kakashi at the bar had not left your mind in the slightest. Though days at the hospital and everything going on with the new clinics was always on your mind, that night with Kakashi always crept in when your mind would wander, and the feelings from that night would resurface as well. Kakashi and you had talked for quite a while, just chatting about anything and everything that came to mind.

It was a side of him that you hadn’t experienced in years. You had never been very close to Kakashi, only running into him on occasion. To you, he was always kind and friendly, sparking up casual conversation when the circumstance called for it, sometimes you treated him when he landed himself in the hospital. But that night at the bar was something else. Kakashi was a man who matured by many years, and he was so different now. Different in a very, very intriguing way.

Another night with him. Doing paperwork of all things. The universe sure did seem to have it out for you. Now, this would be another encounter that would just distract you from all the work that needed to be done—

“Uh, Sempai? Don’t you live that way?”

Sakura’s voice startled you, and you looked up to find Shizune and Sakura looking at you with puzzled but amused smiles. You had been following behind them, but you lived in the opposite direction.

“Oh!” You chuckled softly. “Sorry, I guess I’m just tired. Didn’t realize where I was going.”

They both laughed, and Shizune placed a warm hand on your shoulder. “Get some sleep, okay? If you are starting to lose it, there’s no hope left for Sakura and me.”

All of you laughed, and then you waved goodbye to them, turning onto the street that would lead to your apartment.

You really were tired, a yawn escaping you as you trudged your way down the dimly lit street. So much to be done, so much on your mind, so many feelings about your Hokage that could prove to create lots of issues for you in the future that you didn’t have enough energy to think about…

There was no time for distractions, anyway. You had things to do and things to think about. So tomorrow, when you went to the Hokage’s office to fill out the piles of paperwork that would probably be awaiting you…

…you would simply just do the paperwork. With Kakashi Hatake.

———

The next day was yet another full day at the hospital.

Today was the start of the hearing screenings that the hospital was providing for shinobi. After the war, there was sure to be an influx of

After yet another full day at the hospital, early morning quickly became early evening, and you had almost forgotten about the meeting you were supposed to have with the Hokage. After passing out some charts to some doctors and nurses that would be in charge of your patients that night, you packed up your stuff and headed out to the Hokage tower.

You suddenly wondered if Sakura had told Kakashi that she wouldn’t be making it and that it would be you instead. A little pit of nerves was forming in your stomach, but you forced yourself to ignore it and just get the damn thing done. It was just paperwork, after all. Just paperwork, just paperwork, just paperwork…

Before you knew it, you were standing at the door to the Hokage’s office. You nervously held your medical bag closer to your body as it if would protect you from whatever you were so nervous about, and you knocked. If it even counted as a knock.

Be a little more damn assertive…

The door opened and revealed Shikamaru Nara looking blankly at you. “You’re here in place of Sakura, aren’t you?”

You gulped. “Yeah,” you said way too quietly. “For the, uh, paperwork, stuff.”

Shikamaru didn’t react, just opened the door further to reveal the Hokage’s office. Kakashi Hatake was sitting at his desk, writing something in much concentration. You slowly stepped into the room, the pit of nerves in your stomach twisting fiercely.

“I’m out of here, Kakashi-sensei,” Shikamaru spoke up behind you.

You craned your neck to look at him behind you. Shikamaru was leaving? Leaving you alone?

Then you turned back, and Kakashi was looking up from his desk. “Alright, Shikamaru. Have fun. Stay safe. Keep those kids in line, tonight.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Shikamaru mumbled, and then he was gone.

Now you were face to face with Kakashi.

You fumbled with the strap on your bag and gave a small smile. “Hello, uh…Kakashi.”

You can tell Kakashi is smiling too, eyes bright and friendly. It made your nerves die down a little, but you’re still unusually nervous.

“Good evening, Doctor,” Kakashi lilted. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you answered, slowly making your way to the chair in front of his desk. “How are you?”

Kakashi looked back down at whatever he was writing on earlier. “Oh, I’m fine as well. I’m sure you heard about the kids getting together tonight. Shikamaru is expected to be there so I gave him the night off.”

“Ah,” you said, setting down your back and taking a seat. “Yes, Sakura told me. I’m told it’s supposed to be quite the get-together.”

Kakashi chuckled, flipping through some papers. “As it always is. Thank you for coming in Sakura’s place. I know she appreciates it. As do I.”

For some reason, your cheeks flushed at that. “Oh! Of course. I’m happy to help out in any way I can.”

Kakashi didn’t respond, but you can see him smile while he continues to stack some papers. You twist your hands in your lap, still feeling nervous when you decide to speak up. “So, Sakura told me that we’d be going over the budget—“

“Doctor,” Kakashi interrupted you, looking up from his desk and right into your eyes. His eye contact alone is enough to keep you frozen. “Have you eaten today? Dinner, I mean.”

Your shock disappeared quickly. “I haven’t.”

Kakashi smiled and tilted his head. “Great. Would you like to accompany me to dinner?”

Your entire body from your cheeks to your toes erupted in heat at the way Kakashi is smiling at you. But the answer to his offer is obvious.

“Yes!” You answered brightly, and then slapped yourself internally for answering too eagerly. “I mean, of course.”

Kakashi smiled and tapped the stack of papers on his desk. “Great!”

Kakashi and you chatted while he got his things together and you left the office. Walking through the halls of Hokage Tower, you joked with him lightly. “You know, I’m surprised that you even have time to get dinner with how busy you—“

Suddenly, an arm snaked around your waist and yanked you sideways, causing a sharp yelp to escape you. In the next moment, you were in a cramped, pitch-black space.

Fully pressed against Kakashi himself.

“Um,” you started. “Wha—“

Kakashi was quick to place his gloved hand over your lips making you yelp again. You couldn’t see a thing, and you could barely move around the space, forcing proximity with Kakashi. It had to be a closet of some kind.

Although you couldn’t see him, being so close to Kakashi made you realize a lot of things. For one, his chest was very, very firm. Very firm. Even through his vest, you could feel how sturdy and strong he was. His scent floated through your nose, manly and homey and familiar. Like laundry and grass. His hand stayed put over your mouth, and the calluses of his fingertips brushed your cheek.

You definitely could have fainted.

Just then, you heard voices outside of the door. You craned to listen, assuming this was the reason Kakashi pulled you into the closet. The voices sounded familiar. The elders were speaking.

“…He’s not in his office. Must have escaped before we caught him.”

“Hm. We must speak with him tomorrow.”

“I swear, he’s the laziest Hokage we’ve had. Going home before five o’clock…it’s unheard of…”

You frowned at that. What right do they have to speak about Kakashi like that? His job as Hokage was difficult, stressful, busy. They of all people should know that.

Once the voices disappeared, Kakashi lowered his hand away from your face and slipped his arm out from around your waist. Even as that movement grazed against you, you felt yourself flushing again, skin prickling in heat all over.

“Sorry about that,” Kakashi said, but you couldn’t see his face in the dark. “If they know I’m here, they either take an opportunity to chastise me or give me more unnecessary work.”

You sighed. “It seems like they’re very…difficult.”

“Irritating,” Kakashi added. “And annoying. And irritating.”

You chuckled at that. “Well, good thing we escaped then.”

Kakashi chuckled back, and you could feel the rumble of it in his chest. “Since you went along with it, dinner’s on me. How does Ramen sound?”

You smiled. “Perfect.”

Once you made your way out of Hokage Tower without being caught by any elders, you chatted with Kakashi as you walked to Ichiraku’s. Konoha was still bustling at this hour; people out for dinner, enjoying the weather, walking their dogs. The golden sun that set over the village made you feel at ease.

At Ichiraku’s, you saw a familiar face.

“Rival!” Gai boomed with a loud voice. “Lovely to see you here. With the best doctor in the village no less!”

You laughed. “Hey, Gai. How are you?”

“Well, I’m lovely now that my two favorite people are here. Tell me, what brings you two here?”

Dinner conversation flowed easily with Gai there, and it was nice to catch up with him. It was also nice to get a warm meal in too after a long and busy day at the hospital. Kakashi paid for your meal too, and once you said your goodbyes to Gai, Kakashi and you made your way back to Hokage Tower, talking about all the paperwork that needed to be done.

When you both sat down, organized what needed to be done, and started chatted about the various documents that required signatures, Kakashi asked you how things are going at the hospital with the speech and hearing clinic.

“It’s going very well,” you said with a smile, scanning over a document with your pen. “All that’s different is that we have an actual name now, but yeah, it’s going really well.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Kakashi answered genuinely. “It probably feels good to have almost everything in place.”

“Definitely,” you said with a sigh. “I mean, there are times when it’s hard. When Sakura and I started all this directly after the war, it was even more difficult.”

“How so?” Kakashi looked up from his stack of documents, making eye contact with you.

You looked up yourself and thought for a moment. “I think the hardest part was seeing shinobi who had previously been at their peak struggle with things like memory, speech, fine motor. Of course that’s why we started all of this in the first place. But then we had a handful of cases that were severe. Brain injuries resulted in a number of outcomes, most of them being problems with cognition and speech.”

“You mentioned before that’s what got you into this in the first place,” Kakashi watched you intently.

You nodded. “Human connection is largely mediated through language, and when that language is lost, those connections become a lot more fragile. That’s why a lot of patients are desperate to find ways to communicate again. They’re very motivated to improve so they can talk to the people they love.”

“And after a war, when people realize that life is so easily taken away…I can imagine that motivation to connect is even stronger than ever.”

“Exactly. When my father was injured and came out of it with aphasia, I saw his struggles to communicate with me every day. He went through so many ups and downs, and his desperation to tell me what was on his mind was heartbreaking but…also fascinating,” you smiled weakly, feelings from that time in your life resurfacing. “When you know what you want to say, but you can’t physically form the words…it’s an unthinkable and frustrating experience.”

Kakashi hummed in response. “I’m sure it had to have made you and your father a lot closer.”

“Yeah…you’re right, I think. It really did. And it made me cherish language. It’s a uniquely human experience. And now I make sure all those around me know that they’re loved. Words aren’t everything, but when you lose them…suddenly they mean a lot more.”

Kakashi was silent then, and you wondered if you had gone too far. But then, he smiled.

“You’re a very wise person, Doctor,” he spoke kindly, fondly.

“Oh, no,” you laughed nervously, neck flushing like it always did at Kakashi’s praises. “I think anyone would agree.”

“Maybe,” Kakashi smiled with amusement. “I think it has more to do with you though, Doctor.”

You looked away towards your papers, feeling too bashful and nervous to keep looking in his lovely, kind eyes any longer. “Has anyone told you that you’re quite the flatterer?”

Kakashi chuckled warmly, and it was the most lovely sound you’ve ever heard. “Trust me. I don’t flatter just anyone.”

And from there, the rest of the night went just like that. Chatting while you both went through the paperwork, passing along papers for signatures, laughing, and telling stories. The evening quickly turned into night, and you were getting close to being done with all of the budget contracts.

A comfortable silence fell between you two, and you were quite concentrated on a particularly detailed part of one of the contracts when you noticed Kakashi hadn’t moved in quite some time.

When you looked up, he was fast asleep on his hand which propped his head up.

You had to keep yourself from giggling but smiled at the sight. You didn’t blame him one bit. It was getting quite late, and it had been a long day. So you finished up your stack of papers and quietly grabbed the last of what he had been working on.

Even after you finished, you didn’t wake Kakashi. Just stood up and started to gather everything, sorting them into the correct folders. The cracked window let in sounds of the quiet Konoha night; chirping crickets, croaking frogs, and leaves that sang whispers with the wind.

You were standing at Kakashi’s side, double-checking that everything was in order when you noticed him stir quietly.

“Doctor?” He mumbled sleepily, blinking his eyes. “Did I fall asleep?”

You chuckled, reaching across him to continue cleaning up the remaining work. “Just for a little while. I didn’t want to wake you. You needed some rest, I think.”

“You finished everything?” Kakashi asked, though it was more of an observation as he looked over his clean desk. “I apologize—“

“No apology needed,” you smiled, and he looked up at you. “There wasn’t much left.”

You felt Kakashi’s eyes remain on you as you cleaned up, and his gaze made you feel slightly nervous.

When you went to stack the final folder, Kakashi placed his hand over yours. Startled, you looked over at him.

“Thank you, Doctor,” he said to you quietly. “I appreciate it. Everything you’ve done.”

Your skin tingled where his hand touched yours, and you could hardly compute what was happening with the way his kind eyes looked at you. In that moment, you felt like you were truly seeing Kakashi beyond the Hokage title. You were seeing the kindness that was engraved deeply into who he was.

So you smiled fondly. “Of course. Thank you, Kakashi. For everything you’ve done.”

That night, Kakashi walked you home, giving you another fond smile as he said goodbye. And as you fell asleep, you felt the remaining warmth of his touch against your skin and wondered if he felt yours, too.

CHAPTER THREE ->

[tacticaldiary]

Reward System

Pairing: Reader x Dazai Osamu

Genre: Fluff

A reward system is a great way to get motivation, especially if the reward is getting a kiss for every correct answer.

Masterlist

She groans in frustration and and lets herself slump over the desk, the flashcards in her hand spilling onto the wood. Y/N yelps as she hits her forehead a little too hard, rubbing the sore spot.

She turns with a half-hearted glare when she hears a snort of amusement from behind her.

“Not funny, Osamu.” She grumbles. 

“It was a little funny.” He says with a grin, putting his phone to the side and turning his attention to her.

“When you asked if you could help me study, I didn’t think that meant sitting there and doing nothing.” She says, crossing her arms.

“Technically, I said I wouldn’t distract you from studying.” He smiles.

“Well, you are.” He really isn’t. Surprisingly, her boyfriend has been rather quiet, keeping to himself while she tries and remembers all those god-awful terms. 

He hums in thought, before speaking. “You’re just mad cause your brain won’t work.” He stands ignoring her stare and stretching, arms above his head. Letting out a satisfied sigh, he places a hand on his hip and gives her an easy smile. 

“You, love, are missing motivation.” He states, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’m pretty sure failing the semester is enough motivation.” She says, spinning her chair around to face the desk again. Reaching out to grab the small cards, she doesn’t get far before two arms wrap around her waist from behind. A chin comes to rest on her head.

“I can help with that.” He says and Y/N can practically feel him smirk.

“Yeah?” She tilts her head back, meeting his gaze. “And how would you do that?”

His face lights up and before she knows it, he bounds away towards the bed, grabbing her flashcards from the desk on the way there. He sits with his back to the headboard and pats the spot in front of him.

Y/N contemplates her decision for a second, before giving in and doing as she’s told. How badly could Dazai mess up anyway?

Once she’s seated facing him, Dazai shuffles the cards and picks one out. Clearing his throat dramatically, he asks:

“Where is the Broca’s area located?”

“The left frontal lobe.” She rattles off immediately. She hears a satisfied hum from him and before she can react a pair of warm lips lands on the corner of her mouth. She blinks in surprise and looks up to see his smug expression.

“Oh, silly me, I didn’t explain the rules.”

“The...rules?” They were playing a game?

“The rules!” He nods. “Obviously you need to be rewarded for being right. Honestly, you’ve been going on for so long without getting rewarded, you’ve probably lost all motivation!”

She snorts in amusement. “I don’t think that’s how it works, Osa-”

“Nope. Totally how it works, take it or leave it.” She has a feeling he wants her to take it.

“What happens if I get it wrong?”

“No kiss...and the chances of me waking you up by sliding ice cubes into your shirt again increase by 1% every time.”

“You-...From the way I punched you last time I thought you would’ve learnt-”

“It’s for your own good!” he cuts her off quickly, shifting so he’s sitting closer to her. “For easier access.” he explains, smirking when he sees her flush red a little, mumbling a ‘whatever’ under her breath.

The rest of the evening is spent with kisses and curses. 

“What’s the function of the Thalamus?” Dazai asks the last question, looking a little too eager.

“It produ-” She’s cut off as Dazai literally leans his body weight on her, kissing her with a grin, as she muffles a yelp, falling onto her back. He pulls away after a solid few seconds, both of them breathless.

“You...you didn’t let me finish.” She catches her breath with a small smile.

“You would have gotten it, anyway.” He chuckles, as Y/N reaches up to brush his hair back, laughing as he playfully nuzzles his head into her palm.  

“Now-” he braces himself above her with his arms and leans down until their noses are brushing together.

“Where’s my reward for helping you?” He flashes her a crooked grin and laughs as she reaches up quickly and grabs his collar, crushing her against him.

Request Are Open! Please send em in!

(21/5/2021)

[eternal-armin]

extremely niche idea for a jinx x reader story incoming:

post-apocalyptic world. reader got injured really bad which resulted in broca's aphasia, where they can understand other's words really well but can't speak on their own- or can with great difficulty. as they wander this barren landscape hoping to survive, they collect vinyls and play them. these songs are the only way they can communicate (until jinx manages to help reader through their aphasia), and bring back memories of their time before the apocalypse.

[drxwsyni]

Comprehension︱Yandere Shinsou Hitoshi x f!Reader

Anonymous asked: “Could you write a one shot where the reader (female) is mute and gets kidnapped by yandere Shinsō who just thinks the reader is trying to avoid his quirk.”

a/n: *IMPORTANT* So, I had to do quite a lot of research for this oneshot to be medically correct. For the sake of clarity, the reader is depicted with Broca’s Aphasia, a branch of a speech impairment that lets them understand what people are saying to them, but are unable to form a verbal or written response. This can happen due to stroke or injury. I am in no way romanticizing this condition, this is a work of fiction and I don’t believe in these glorifying ideas in real life. Aphasia is a serious medical condition and should be treated as such.

Thank you to @theladyshinigami​ for helping me work out the outline to this oneshot, your assistance is always much appreciated <3

Warnings: mild violence, swearing, mentions of injury, imprisonment, angst, gen. yandere themes

7k words

“The only person getting in your way is yourself.”

A distinctive earthy aroma permeated through the air, the soft pattering of raindrops colliding with the rooftop foundation around him. Perched atop a ledge, overseeing the idle backstreets of the residential area he was appointed to patrol, Shinsou’s eyes landed on a crouched form on the streets below.

The last time he heard your voice was in the final school year before joining UA, the both of you planning on enrolling in the general studies course there. He was paying no mind to your counterargument―one he’d heard plenty of times before. You insisting that he’d become more than what some nonsensical individuals made him out to be, him blowing off the sentiment due to a long established complacency over the occurrence.

He fought with you over it, much to your dismay. In a fit of frustration you stormed off in the opposite direction, leaving him to brew in his displeasing thoughts. Now however, he wished he ran after you. Apologized for acting so insensitive, making a point to thank you for believing in him and lending him advice with only good intentions when others would cower in prejudiced suspicion.

The next morning he went to class as normal, except you weren’t there. The teacher explained you’d moved schools and wouldn’t be returning. He never got to say goodbye, the last interaction with you being one filled with undeserving ignorance against your warmhearted nature.

Now a full fledged pro hero, having trained relentlessly to become everything you sought to bring out in him, Shinsou remained motionless in the steady stream of rain. Not even the darkness of the 2 am night could mask those undeniably identifiable features.

That soft smile gracing your face, gentle and welcoming. He followed your gaze, laughing slightly in disbelief. Not just at how out of nowhere you appeared back in his presence, but at how you’d also managed to find his adventurous outdoor cat.

The two of you were protected from the downpour by a bus stop shelter, the metal frame being overtaken by wildly growing vines. His cat was perched atop the wooden bench, and you’d positioned yourself to be perfectly eye level with the affectionate feline.

If he wasn’t currently experiencing an intense wave of recollection having found that you were alive and well, he might be able to fully appreciate the sight for what it is―heart wrenchingly adorable.

Of course he found his cat cute, but you were on another playing field entirely.

He noted with fondness that at least outwardly, you appeared just as entrancing as the day you left him. With age brought new reasons for him to be enraptured with your being, maturity allowing new, equally soft features to shine through. Although shamelessly taking the time out of these ungodly hours to pet a wandering cat, it showed that you still held that same sense of innocence.

When you were younger, that trait had him deeply worried at times. It left you skittish in the wake of those who took advantage of your unassumingly positive approach to life. Of course he never treated you so wrongly, especially after you’d proved how the functionality of his quirk didn’t phase you.

But he never was there for you as much as you were for him. Shinsou didn’t really bother to ask you just how you were doing, if you were dealing with being treated in such a way all the time. You always made a point in making sure he was okay, but something always held him back from doing the same with you.

It was a level of intimacy he wasn’t quite ready for, no matter how much you conveyed your comfortableness with him.

Does she even remember me?

Giving a final few offers of attention towards the feline, Shinsou watched from his spot on the rooftop as you stretched out to be standing. Your black umbrella, already wet with rainwater from being used just minutes ago, popped open in quick succession. Carefully, so as not to step in the deep puddle of water forming in the indents of the sidewalk, you strided out from underneath the small shelter.

Regret for his past behaviour kept Shinsou at a distance as you turned away. However, the allure of wanting to see just how you’d grown in ways he hadn’t yet observed since he last was graced with your presence kept that distance unchanging.

With each of your steps away, he met with his own advance. Trailing you from the rooftops, Shinsou watched over your form, unconsciously guiding him further into your life. And, as it turns out―your apartment.

Judging the surrounding area, your home was just five blocks from his own. How long had you gone unnoticed, living day to day alongside of him yet somehow still so far apart?

Ever so slightly, he could see your frame shivering from the chill that the rain brought on. He hadn’t acknowledged his own discomfort, being far too occupied with your sudden reappearance. As you let yourself into the complex, Shinsou ran a hand through his damp indigo locks, attempting to ground himself with the information of your existence.

Having nothing of yours left to take in, not unless he wanted to make his own existence known to you, he resigned his duties for the night. With a brief phone call to his agency, the area was kept guarded with a fresh pair of eyes, allowing him to return to the sanctuary of his own home.

His cat was awaiting his return, pawing angrily at the door which was adorned with scratch marks at the base from similar occurrences. He ruffled the fur atop its head, earning a reflexive shake to remove the built up dampness from the cat.

Calloused hands slid a key into place, unlocking and pushing the door open for his pet to enter. It moved past his own advances with disregard for the risk of him tripping over its small body, Shinsou mentally cursing himself for letting the adventurous being out in the first place. But then again, it did allow him the opportunity to see his two favorite girls spending time together―so maybe the disrespectful behaviour could be forgiven.

The warmth that electrical heating provided did not go unappreciated, a stark contrast from the chill of the night air. Yet although the sensation was welcoming and capable of calming his mind, Shinsou could not simply return to the routine of basking in its comfort after a grueling and extensive shift.

You were out there, completely unaware of him―and he didn’t want things to remain that way. Even if he didn’t directly approach you to learn of the ways you’d spent all those years apart from him just yet, Shinsou still had to know more.

_____

You worked at a bar. Fairly low in traffic and on the edge of town, but a decent establishment nonetheless.

Call it impulse, but Shinsou couldn’t contain the urge to distantly concern himself with watching over you as you made the trek to your job. He respected it―the occupation you’d taken up. Although he didn’t observe you in action, he figured you worked as a waitress or something of the sort. The position made good money, and he knew you could fill the requirements with your kind attitude.

However, he wasn’t as fond of the idea that it was likely you’d experienced some unpleasant customers. It comes with that sort of job, and he was all too aware of the defiling thoughts people had, and thus the actions that resulted from them.

That was what got him to swallow any apprehension to meet you face to face. At least if he was in the bar, it’d make it easier to help you if someone came on a little too strongly.

Shinsou reserved the next possible moment to be devoid of any hero work. He sat down in the bar, ordering a drink to stave off the budding anxiety of finally meeting you after such a long time of being apart. He planned to play it off as coincidence―showing up after a long day, and just so happening to stumble into the bar you worked at.

But he never got the chance to. Shinsou could’ve sworn he saw you enter the building, but after sitting in the same spot for three hours, he never laid eyes on you.

So he did the next best thing.

Patiently, he leaned against the rough brick wall outside of the bar. A few moths batted against the artificial lighting above the heavy metal door to the back exit. The spot where he stood was illuminated with an orange glow, dissipating down the alleyway. Impatiently, checked the digital watch on his wrist.

The door’s handle creaked under the influence of someone turning it from the other side. Shinsou’s eyes shot in its direction, widening slightly as he pushed away from the wall.

Slowly, you stepped through the threshold, an exhausted sigh escaping your lips as you nudged your bag up your shoulder.

The moment you met his anticipated gaze, your own expression formed into a content disbelief. The door shut behind you with a thud, you remaining in one place as he made the first move to speak after clearing his throat.

“I, uh...I saw you, yesterday. On patrol―you were walking out of the bar so I assumed you worked here...You remember who I am, right?”

A wave of relief washed over him as you nodded, that oh so gentle and familiar smile enveloping the soft features of your face. You didn’t say anything, and he figured you were just too much in shock to respond.

Shinsou continued, “I ended up joining the hero course at UA―even have my own agency now. You were right about me, those assholes didn’t know what they were talking about.”

A swell of warmth enveloped him being back in your presence, and with being able to regard those kind eyes again, looking proud for his accomplishments.

But you still didn’t respond.

A crease formed between his brows, a once friendly smile faltering in confusion. If you looked so happy for him, why weren’t you talking back?

You always, always responded to him. Even when he was in a sour mood, you stayed consistent in your acceptance that although his quirk could be used for malice, it wasn’t something he’d ever do.

“Y’know, sometimes I get so sick of the way you act―self-deprecating no matter how much I tell you things won’t always be like this. And honestly ‘Toshi, it’s starting to rub off on me a bit!”

The argument was crystal clear in his mind, your words repeating inside his head as if you’d just uttered them in the present moment.

That was impossible though. You hadn’t said a single word, just standing in front of him in silence. He knew you understood what he was saying.

Only one explanation made sense―it was his quirk that was keeping you from talking.

As Shinsou’s expression fell with feelings of betrayal corrupting his previously relieved feelings, the look on your face changed as well. Like you hadn’t realized your mistake, you presented conflictingly.

You looked like you wanted to say something, but no words came out of your mouth. 

The door behind you bust open, a few bar workers spilling out, sporting obnoxiously loud chatter. What appeared to be the ringleader of the group noticed the exchange taking place between the two of you first.

“(Y/n)! This your friend or something?” He slung an arm around your shoulder, the action putting a small grimace on Shinsou’s face. You looked up at the man, nodding while shifting uncomfortable under his weight.

The strangely affectionate worker regarded him, “Nice to meet you, dude! We were just headin’ out for some drinks―you’re more than welcome to join seeing as you’re all buddy buddy with this pretty lady.”

Shinsou gritted his teeth in irritation, feeling majorly uneasy with the developing situation, and with the worker’s behaviour. He didn’t take his eyes off of your shied form as he spoke. “Uh...I don’t really like crowds, sorry. Maybe another time.”

While that wasn’t a lie, his dejection was mostly a result of his stirred up emotions over your uncharacteristic behaviour.

“Uh...Alright then―see you around, man!”

The group dragged you along with them, forcing Shinsou to side step out of the way. As they stumbled out of the alley, he caught the way you looked back over your shoulder. For a brief moment your eyes locked, and he could’ve sworn he saw your mouth open as if to say something―anything.

Still huddled with the other bar workers, you disappeared from his sight as you exited the alleyway.

He stood there, immobilized with a torrent of how’s and what if’s racing through his mind.

“If that’s how you’re gonna act, then whatever. I don’t wanna deal with this right now.”

The sight of you walking away from him was ingrained into his being. Before, with a moment of stubbornness on his part causing him to unintentionally push you away prior to you disappearing completely. And now, as it appeared in how you finally believed his doubtful words all that time ago.

A low rumbling sounded off in the distance, and although the sky was steeped in darkness, the thickening of the air signaled an approaching storm. There was nothing left for him to do, far too riddled with inner turmoil from the meeting that was supposed to be the start of your rekindled relationship together.

Reluctantly, the indigo haired man made his way out of the alley, shoulders slumped with hands stuffed in his pockets. Out of all the people in his life, you were the only person who he was sure of to never lose faith in him.

And yet, it would seem his careless sentiments had more of an effect on you than he once thought. That day must’ve been the nail in your coffin―what he wouldn’t give now to rewind time and make up for those actions that unknowingly influenced you into your current untrusting mindset.

_____

He should’ve taken the encounter for what it was at face value, and subsequently move on before the regret could eat him up. But Shinsou was stubborn, he always had been with you.

It was far too easy to keep tabs on you. He knew you were naive, but never to this degree. And disturbingly so, it wasn’t just your naivety that scared him―it was how much worse you’d gotten since you were younger.

You always tended to let people walk over you, to allow those ill intentioned individuals to prey on your openness and take advantage of the kindness offered without hesitation. He hated that part of you, but still never said anything.

Maybe he should’ve―no, he definitely should’ve.

Aside from going out to work and the unavoidable errands, you were practically a shut in. Those coworkers he watched drag you off to whatever bar they had in mind that night seemed to be your only friends. And really, Shinsou didn’t even think he could call them that.

Not once had he seen them give you a chance to speak your mind. It was always about them, all day every day without fail. Clearly those years the two of you spent apart was used to foster this placid behaviour in you. He was always in suspense, waiting with worried thoughts for the moment when you’d open your mouth and finally put an end to the meaningless rambling of your questionable acquaintances.

And yet no matter how long Shinsou waited, observing you with the eyes of a hawk stalking its prey, the anticipated behaviour never came.

You weren’t quite the same girl he knew back before UA―before out of nowhere you just up and left with zero explanation.

Shinsou watched as you simply existed in the world around you. Ignored and never sought after for your opinion, keeping quiet while others took the spotlight. And you always let them. What was more alarming was the fact that even if those realities were harmless, your newfound behaviour was a cesspool for people with dangerously worse desires than the ones he observed so long ago.

Making sure he took the time to see you to work or as you went home, obviously entirely unbeknownst to you, was practically a mandatory task in his life at this point. It wasn’t his original plan, mostly because of how much it took away from his own work day―but once again, your behaviour had an influencing effect on him.

In passing one night, you nearly let a total stranger follow you home. Shinsou watched in disgust and horror as the man called out to you as you walked by him, spouting indecent nonsense from his foul lips. And you ignored him. Not even so much as a glance in his direction as you scuttled away. The man went after you, and the thought of what might’ve happened to you if Shinsou wasn’t keeping you safe made his stomach churn. 

Sometimes your shifts weren’t consistent, resulting in him not realizing you’d already left, or that it’d be a while until you did―or even if you were leaving at all. But always making sure you were okay was his only option, the alternative something that he feared, and you would too if you’d just be a little more aware of your surroundings.

Although he preferred this routine of overseeing your day to day excursions, it didn’t hide the fact that his once repressed issues were starting to resurface.

Since proving himself to those who only looked down upon him, working hard and becoming a pro, Shinsou stopped experiencing the pain that came with apprehension from others. 

You always did everything in your power to dissuade him from falling for those poisonous words. More often than not, he disregarded you. Now however, he no longer had the same problems of the general population judging him―just you.

He was upset. Angry with how you threw all that hard work and understanding knowledge of his problems to the wind. You were always there for him to be open with, and for what? Now that you were back, was he just supposed to forget about all the times you stayed with him when nobody else would?

Whatever went down in those years apart, it was clear that your final words and his nonchalant attitude left a deeper impression than he thought. You didn’t respond to him. 

You were avoiding his quirk.

But you should know better. Even without his quirk, he was still able to bring forth what he wanted in people. What he desired to know, how he wanted people to behave. No amount of silence could keep you from that reality.

Shinsou was mad at you for how you treated him. Even worse, those hate filled feelings were brewing alongside fear for the way you’d changed. A nasty concoction of emotions, entirely directed at you. Before, it was you who put so much mental energy into the relationship, and now it was his turn. Shinsou didn’t realize how taxing that state of concern could be.

It was his job to make up for lost time and long perceived mixed messages. In doing so he would no longer want to rip his hair out at the thought of you so casually resigning yourself to the deceptive whims of those around you. And hopefully, you would realize your perceptions of him were misplaced. No matter what happened, you wouldn’t be able to avoid this.

He’d give you one last chance though.

Mostly, it was to make sure he hadn’t convinced himself that you were that naive. That what he was seeing day in and day out wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He wanted to make sure that the attachment he never really let go of wasn’t altering his perception of the truth. That maybe you were still the girl he knew back then. 

He must really care about you, as the way he prepared to go about this moral evaluation went against the instincts that were relentlessly beaten into him from training for all those years to become a pro. It wasn’t something he wanted to do, but realistically it was a perfect opportunity to show that even if you did resent him for blowing off all the kind sentiments you always offered without fail, at least you would be able to fend for yourself. Maybe if you passed this test he’d be able to get over the fact that you no longer thought he was capable of being good to you, with the ease of mind gained from other promising actions allowing for the energy to move on.

Honestly, he doubted that he would ever completely get over that, but at least with the notion that maybe you weren’t so helpless, he’d be able to return to the life he had before spotting you on that astonishingly coincidental night.

The sight made his blood boil―seeing you cower in fear from the men he’d sent to do his bidding. Knowing it was himself that was to blame for ripping away your sense of safety in the face of such individuals hurt him to no ends. Shinsou had to keep telling himself it was a necessary evil. There was no other way he could go on about his normal life thinking that in such a situation you wouldn’t do a thing to protect yourself.

And so he waited, eyes narrowed and calculating as the low level villains proceeded to back you into a corner. Shouting all the vile things they were going to do to you, laughing as you stumbled backwards with tears streaming down your cheeks.

You didn’t fight back. 

You didn’t call for help. 

Even as your back hit the brick wall, all you did was stand there in pure and unbridled fear, hyperventilating like a rabbit caught in a trap.

Your pursuers were a little confused at the sight too―they must���ve expected even a little resistance. But regardless, they went through with the orders they received anonymously, expecting a sum of cash for their troubles when all was said and done.

Shinsou let the scene play out for as long as possible. The seconds going by felt like hours as he silently begged you to fight back, to prove to him you hadn’t developed into a weak shell of a girl he once knew.

The quick and panicked breathing that was wracking your body got in the way of that. It was the fear that he’d let be inflicted that led you to pass out under the stress of the situation, telling Shinsou all he needed to know for what he was supposed to do with you next.

_____

Shinsou blamed himself for unknowingly convincing you to go against the ideals that you held so strongly before you vanished from his life. Even worse, he blamed you for finally believing his self-doubting words. You took them to heart, something he would’ve never expected you to do.

Mostly, he blames others for trying to take advantage of the person you’d become.

It had pushed him to do things he never wanted to. To put you in situations that you found terrifying, that confused you to no ends. And he knew from the look on your face how you were feeling.

Baffled and betrayed just as much as he was. At least he wasn’t alone in that sense.

Shinsou could admit that he could’ve been a little nicer to you after you woke up, subsequently finding yourself in an environment you’d never seen before. The only thing you recognized was him, but that did little to put you at ease once you realized he was the one to put you through so much distress in the first place.

He tried telling you that you were safe, that everything he’d done was to make sure that there were no other options aside from the current predicament. He told you that he didn’t want to see you so afraid of him, and that you didn’t need to be.

But that didn’t stop the wide eyed look you gave him whenever he came close to you. Shaking like a leaf whenever he was in the room, keeping your gaze fixed on him should he do something horrible. And he would never do something bad to you, so your reactions only made him feel so much worse.

Or at least, he thought he would never do anything to make your feelings toward him all the more apprehensive.

He was just so angry. Shinsou couldn’t get over the way you regarded him. The way you treated him like a villain. Everyone always used to tell him that that’s what he’d become. And you always told him he wouldn’t.

Yet, when he saw your face twisted in anguish for his actions, those kind words left his mind completely.

If he could just get you to say a single word, he would show you he meant no harm. But no matter what―no matter how much he tried to simply talk to you, a response never came.

And so he was always angry. Shinsou tried not to show it, to keep the intrusive thoughts and behaviours to himself. However, even that became a herculean task when you started to show pity for him.

It was the small actions.

You’d pick up after yourself, even when he told you that he’d handle everything. Shinsou would come back after a shift at the end of a particularly stressful day to see that you’d tidied the house, maybe vacuumed the floors, or cleaned the couch from the building cat hair against the fabric of the cushions where the small animal liked to sleep.

Knowing that you still resented him, yet let those complacent features shine through in your circumstances bothered him immensely. He would’ve liked it more if you stayed mad at him, at least then it would’ve shown him you were learning. That his little test of strength had paid off, and you were starting to understand the concept of what it meant to defend yourself. But even while you stayed consistent with the looks of passing despair and confliction, you never once made a move to leave him.

That wasn’t to say you enjoyed remaining chained to a bed at night, or how not once in the past month had you experienced fresh air. It was just that you didn’t ever try for the door, or even a window. Shinsou would know if you did, he cared a lot more about home security than you had after all―but the alarms signalling such an action never went off.

He knew that the main reason for why he kept you with him was because really, he loved you more than he loved any person in his life before. Having you around him constantly was great, even better was the fact that he knew nobody else would have the same opportunity.

The only problem was his guilt, and the way you mindlessly fueled it. That’s what kept him angry.

At himself.

At you.

At everyone.

It was only so long before those wrathful emotions took hold of his common sense.

Generally speaking, the atmosphere was calming. The fireplace was lit in the background, casting a warm hue to the dining room. A storm was beating against the window outside, the noise of the water hitting the glass dulcifying. Shinsou had gone through the trouble of cooking your favorite for dinner, it turning out better than expected. The pleasant aroma was the final touch to stave off rampant nerves, welcoming only thoughts to ease the mind.

But Shinsou’s mind was everything but at ease―you weren’t eating.

The issue was a persisting one. He didn’t know why you were doing it, only that the problem was becoming more of an issue as time went on. You were losing weight, becoming sickly looking. The food was right in front of you, and yet you remained still.

He couldn’t put up with it, breaking the silence that always hung unless he was the one to make noise. “You need to eat something.”

Just barely, you flinched at his words. He didn’t bother coming off soft, knowing he needed the assertiveness if he was ever going to get through to you. Your eyes flitted to meet his, not a second did they remain in place before going back to staring at your lap.

He persisted, “I thought this was your favorite―did you get sick of it after you left?”

The reference to your untimely departure had your brows furrowing slightly, a worried look forming across your face.

A deep sigh escaped Shinsou’s lips, him leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table while regarding you with a stern expression. “I promise I won’t use my quirk on you. I know that’s what you’re worried about, but you don’t need to be.”

Thick silence settled back into the room. He didn’t make a noise for fear of interrupting any potential motivation you might be having to respond. But you stayed still, eyes remaining downcasted. And more importantly―unspeaking.

It was probably a good thing that you weren’t looking at Shinsou, given the heated glare he was sending your way. With each passing second spent without you acknowledging his promise that you’d only heard a thousand times before now, the feeling of intense frustration inside him festered.

Another few moments, then a harsh “Fuck it,” and Shinsou was grabbing both of your plates. He had finished eating, always waiting patiently for you to do the same. It was clear you weren’t going to do so tonight though, and honestly, he was too pissed to even give you the chance to anyway.

He brought them into the kitchen, setting his plate in the sink while retrieving something to put your dinner in, should you be more motivated to eat it later. “You can just...go to your room for the rest of the night.” Shinsou spoke the words with a certain edge to his tone, not even regarding you as he talked over his shoulder. 

Why couldn’t you just do this one little thing for him? It wasn’t hard―the food was good, even if it turned out not to be your favorite anymore. Was it really that difficult to even acknowledge the fact that he put so much work into making sure you were well fed?

The sound of your bare feet padding against the tiled kitchen flooring alerted him to your presence. You stood a few feet away from him, expression looking conflicted and, what he hated the most―pitying.

“I told you to go to your room, unless you’re ready to eat now?”

He watched as your eyes flitted to the dirty dishes, giving him another brief glance before you made your way to the sink. Carefully, you emptied it and began running the water, leaving a finger under the stream to wait for it to heat up.

Shinsou stood frozen, a hand gripping the edge of the counter that had his knuckles turning white.

“You don’t need to do that. Go back to your room.”

You paid no mind to his words, clearly not recognizing them for what they were―a demand.

Seeing this, Shinsou walked over to the sink, leaning over you. “What part of ‘go back to your room’ do you not understand?” He was trying so hard not to raise his voice, yet as he spoke his tone only grew in strength.

Ever so vaguely, you let out a small huff in frustration. You just wanted to help. It was the only thing you could think to do so as not to piss him off. Unfortunately, you didn’t realize that you doing so was exactly what was making him so mad.

And he didn’t realize that you thought you had no other choice.

Shinsou’s hand slammed down on the faucet handle, cutting off the stream and finally raising his voice to let out the pent up anger he’d been suppressing for so long. “So what, first you can’t give me a fucking response and now your straight up ignoring me?!” This time he forcefully moved you from the sink, shoving you away from it. “I try so fucking hard and you can’t even listen to me now?! What the hell is wrong with you?!” 

The moment the words slipped from his mouth, Shinsou froze in his place. You had stumbled back from the force of his push, now balancing yourself on the counter of an island that rested in the middle of the kitchen. You were looking at him wide-eyed, scared and shaking.

Like you had been when he sent those lowly criminals on you.

Like he was a villain.

“I...I didn’t mean that.”

You were already backing away, retreating like he would try to hurt you again, not only with his words.

His voice was quiet, as if any shift towards further aggression would have you breaking down. But it was too late when the tears were already streaming down your face.

“Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean to be like that, I promise. Just―”

You were rushing back to your room before he could finish his sentence. The door slammed shut, him flinching as the loud noise reverberated off the walls of his home. 

Three times now.

Shinsou had the courage to act as a hero, selflessly risking his own well being for the sake of others. He disregarded his feelings to make people he didn’t even know more comfortable, he knew how to de-escalate the tension and troubles of any situation.

And yet, this was the third time he had watched you leave him. The third time he remained in his place as you walked, or in this case, ran away from him. The coward that hid inside him while he remained a pro at work revealed itself in your presence.

He hated himself for it.

But he would fix things. Mend the gap in your relationship that was keeping you from opening up, and keeping him from being there for you when you needed it the most.

_____

Shinsou cursed himself for not doing it sooner.

It would only make sense for him to conduct some form of research on you, seeing as how close he’d made you be with him. He was just so caught up in his own feelings and inner turmoil to take the time to, and now he wishes he’d done it the moment he came back into contact with you.

Looking at the records on file of you nearly made his heart stop. For one, they were extensive, forcing him to spend copious amounts of time just sitting in his study and reading for hours.

The moment you ran off after dinner, he’d locked your bedroom door and left, resolving to find answers. And find them he did. 

In the form of hospital records dating back to the very day you disappeared before high school.

You were in a car accident. The vehicle that had collided with the one your parents were driving hit the side of the car, but only at the back of it―where you were sitting. And it was bad, you had to undergo multiple surgeries to fix the damage inflicted onto your fragile body.

Amongst the repairs, the file of a brain surgery stood out. Along with the records of your rehabilitation, Shinsou learnt everything he needed to know.

You weren’t avoiding his quirk―you physically couldn’t talk.

The accident and the surgery left you unable to, and all this time you were putting up with his incessant encouragement to speak because you couldn’t tell him to stop. You’d left back then because of your inability to communicate like the average person, your parents moving you away for a fresh start―it was easier than having to explain to everyone what had happened. When you were older you moved back, it being the only place you truly were familiar with.

Shinsou connected the dots. Your physical condition and how it affected that of your mental state. Given your limitations, he could understand how you came to be so lenient with the way people treated you. You couldn’t tell them if you were upset, so it must have become easier to just let life have its way with you.

He clutched the stack of files in his hand, pausing outside your bedroom door. Even on his side of the frame, the quiet sniffles escaping your body were all too distinct for him. The sound made his heart clench in anguish, being painfully aware that it was all his doing. And if he had just taken the time to get over his own intrusive thoughts and stopped blaming you for everything, none of this would’ve happened in the first place.

Hesitantly, Shinsou brought his hand up to the door, giving a few knocks against the wood. When he heard the sad sound of your cries being stifled, he fished the keys to the locks from his pocket. Pushing the door open slowly, both as a secondary motion to let you know he was entering, and to use the time to brace himself, he let his eyes fall upon your form.

You had curled up into a ball on the bed, back pressed against the headboard. There was a blanket held tightly in your hands, shielding most of your body from his face. Your eyes met, and despite the dim lighting of the lamp to your right, he could see the puffiness around your eyes.

Shinsou stepped through the threshold of the door, letting it shut behind him. Your eyes remained trained on him as he made his way to the side of the bed you were closest to, sitting down on the edge.

Carefully, he set the stack of papers atop the sheets, sliding them closer towards your shaking body. He waited patiently as you fearfully reached a hand out and took the files from him.

As you opened the yellow folder keeping the documents in place, Shinsou broke the heavy silence.

“I didn’t know. And―I feel like shit for not finding out sooner.”

He had no clue how you’d react, so dreadfully, he kept his gaze on you as your fingers flipped through a few pages. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think―”

What he said now was more important than ever, knowing just how shaken your state must be due to his stupidly impulsive actions. Shinsou paused for a moment, drawing in a deep breath and exhaling before continuing.

“When you refused to respond to me the night I caught you at the bar...I thought it was because you were avoiding my quirk. This whole time―I assumed you’d given up on me after we had that fight, before you left.”

Your lower lip was trembling as he continued, a few voiceless sobs escaping your broken form.

“I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I was just frustrated that you weren’t responding, but that’s not an excuse for the way I acted.”

By now you had abandoned the flimsy records, curling in on yourself as your emotions took over. Shinsou watched as your body convulsed with sobs, listening to the way your breath escaped rapidly, with the typical sound of your voice accompanying the action missing.

He wouldn’t idly sit by as you hurt anymore. That was something he used to do, and look at where it got him.

Removing the folder from your hands and placing it atop the nightstand, Shinsou scooped you up in his arms. He took your place on the bed and sat down with you on his lap. Gently, he held you close to his chest, a hand rubbing up and down your back in a soothing motion as you continued to cry into his shoulder.

“I promise not to ever do something like that again. I know none of this was your fault, and I understand why you behave the way you do now.”

He knew that you’d still fear him after what he’d done, and the fact only made the sinking feeling in his chest worse. It was his fault you were so distraught, he could only assume that you were unable to find any way to tell him what was wrong before. And Shinsou had blamed you for your situation, when really it was out of your control entirely.

Now, he would have to make up for the damage he’d done.

Shinsou wasn’t sure how he was going to go about making amends for the problems he’d created, but one thing was for sure―it was still his job to protect you from yourself. He understood now why you’d grown to be someone who takes things in stride, far too much than one normally should. The way you behaved wasn’t okay, whether you quite realized that fact or not. 

As far as he was concerned, your vulnerability wasn’t to be taken lightly. He’d seen first hand what could happen should he abandon you. 

Letting you leave wasn’t an option.

You needed him, even if it took you a while to understand that. Shinsou knew you would likely continue to resent him for the treatment he’d subjected you to―anyone would. But he could handle it, that was his responsibility after all.

His fonder feelings for you never changed, only growing in passion the more time he spent with you. At this point, he wouldn’t be able to part with you even if you proved you could take care of yourself.

And so he resolved that you would never stray from his side, and he would always be there to take care of you.

Shinsou would’ve said more to you, but in the moment he doubted you would even hear him amidst the distress you were in. The voiceless sobbing continued, and he did his best to calm you, gently rocking you while whispering reassurances through the motions. He didn’t know what you were thinking, and he knew you’d never be able to tell him. 

But actions spoke louder than words, and right now they told him that even just a bit, the way he held you was slowly calming you down with each shaky breath you took. So he didn’t let go, and you didn’t fight him.

In that moment, he knew he’d finally done something right. He was there for you in the way you’d been there for him all those years ago. It was how he wished he’d been when the regret plagued his being at the recollection of you walking away from him.

Shinsou wouldn’t let you walk away anymore. He’d take care of your silent troubles in ways that he knew nobody was doing for you before, in ways that you needed someone to help you with.

He understood what was to be expected of him now, and he would no longer let any self satisfying behaviour get in between the two of you ever again.

[aaksees]

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✧ Intro ✧ guide

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✧ Masterlist under the cut

✧ To Run With You - Glaucus x gn!reader ✧

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[menaceofrhodes]

Hi...thank you for the explanation...

Then id like to request a Broca X Reader Oneshot, thank you very much

Ping Pong~!! (Ф∀Ф) I have delivered, i hope you enjoy!

[bbygrgu]

Bad Guy

Bucky Barnes x Reader (platonic)

A/n: written for @bvcks​ 4.2k writing challenge, congrats on the followers, my love! special shout out to @rogueobservation​ for helping me and encouraging me on this fic. it’s been too long since I've written. if you still want to be on my taglist or not, please don’t be afraid to let me know! feedback is always appreciated, I hope you all enjoy! 

prompt: “Who are you running from?” + “From the same people you are.” 

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, cussing, smoking, 

word count: 3.378 - masterlist

A cigarette hung low from your lips, your eyes focused on the way the sun dipped behind the Vienna’s skyline. The sky painted blues, pinks, clouds reflected the warm orange from the setting sun. The only indication that time was moving was the darkening sky and the city coming to life, bursts of lights from the streets and the buildings contrasted against the black canvas of the night.

The breeze picked up, goosebumps evident on your arms, but you couldn’t feel the cold anymore. All you felt was the way the breeze brushed against your skin, the cool air no longer seeping into your skin, down to your bones and causing you to ache. A muffled laugh pushed past your lips, your lips rolled in to hold the unlit fag in between them.

It’d been ninety-eight days since you escaped and six hundred twenty-three days since you remembered anything at except for the fact you didn’t belong in that facility, your strength was heightened, and sparks of electricity flowed through your body.

The name of the organization sat on the back of your tongue, but your mind could not form the words (you thought they messed around with your Broca’s area only to have concluded the only thing they did mess with was your memories). Aside from your abilities, the black and red symbol of a skull with six octopus tentacles was the closest thing you had to identify the bastards who did this to you.

You grew tired of thinking. The tingling sensation ran through your fingers, the familiar twists in your neck, your cigarette close enough to your fingers to be lit from the jumping sparks. The amber light glowed before your eyes, you inhaled almost excitedly, your head pressed to the concrete of the complex.

Lie. You remembered one other thing. The man known as the fist, the Winter Soldier. You remembered the emotionless steel blue eyes, the plush pink lips that always remained pressed together, the motionlessness of his body when he stood, the whirring of his left arm and the red star painted on his shoulder. You remembered the day they brought him out of nowhere, his eyes trained on you before he lunged, heavy body and strong fist knocking you onto the ground over and over again, never letting you fully stand until you were begging for mercy.

Of course, he gave it to you, on their command at least. Blood dripping from your top lip onto the ground, your arms sandwiched between your body and the concrete ground as you heaved, desperate for air to come back into your body without any pain. Up, soldat, they’d scream at you. Arms hooked under your armpits before they painfully hauled you to your feet, your eyes glued to the ground. Again, they commanded.

They noticed each moment you eyed the doors and corridors, they noticed how your eyes scanned for cameras and two ways mirrors, weapons they openly carried and potential areas they might have them concealed. One of the soldatsin charge of transferring you from the training room back to your cell told you to be careful when escaping, you never knew where the Winter Soldier would be hidden; he liked to give his prey a head start.

The night you escaped was a blur. Soldiers, guards, were running around, commands shouted across the grounds. Men and women in high-end suits rushed out, manila folders pressed to their chests and faces full of panic.

Fear and excitement welled in your body, the then-new twist in your neck sending tingles through your arms and down to your fingertips. Moments later, a familiar yet distant smell filled the room, guards you passed on their backs, frozen with electric currents traveling through their nerves and towards their soon-to-be lifeless hearts.

The first time you saw him after your escape, something didn’t sit right in your stomach. The smell of fresh rain and faint sweet pastries wafted through the evening. The delicious scents of papanașiand plăcintă cu mere, sweet apple pie, carried by the rainy breeze and teasingly past patrons’ noses, inviting them into the bakery’s for treats.

Heavy rain drops rolled off the roof tops, off coverings and umbrellas, and onto the worn streets. Loud pitter-patters joined in the faint rumbles of cars, people wondering through the night in laughter, feet slapping against the wet concrete.

The heavy rain had you pulling your leather jacket from the collars over your head, thick drops of water managed to slip past your protection, pushing through your locks of hair and rolling down your neck, into your shirt. The aggressiveness of the pouring waterfall pushed you to seek refuge in one of the bakeries, one with a sign that read fresh plum dumplings!

You were greeted with the sight of couples and groups of friends sitting at small seats and tables, evidence of eaten cakes and treats on their smiles. Quiet chatter, ringing of the register, soft voices belonging the employees was music to your ears.

Jacket now off and hanging off the back of an empty chair, you shook your head, little drops dancing around and landing onto the floor. You put on a smile yet, your heart was clenching, the hairs on your nape and arms stuck straight up, your fingers pricked with unleashed energy.

In front of you, a tall man with shoulder length hair slicked back was asking the one of the baker’s if he could sample a plum dumpling. Something about always visiting town, but never getting the leisure of exploring the inner corners and local shops. His voice was low, calm for a man whose shoulders were tensed, gloved left hand tensed.

Eyes narrowed, you couldn’t help but feel that you knew this man, in one life or another. Your stomach dropped when he turned, a glimpse of silver when the sleeve of his jacket rode up and icy blue eyes glued on you.

You inhaled sharply, hands gripping the edge of the small table. The hairs on your arm stood again, this time from the static that suddenly came into the air. With the best confused and innocent look, you got up and gave him a once over. His own eyebrows furrowed, lips parted that sent you out of the bakery in pure fear. Jacket left behind, you quickly thanked the man at the front counter and rushed out, hands crackling with electricity in preparation for the attack that never came.

The second time you spotted him, fear still reigned its control over you.

The library down the street from your ratty, old apartment building opened at eight am every morning, with the exception of Sundays. One of the small rooms contained a handful of computers and if one didn’t arrive early enough, they always seemed impossible to get.

You managed to get there exactly at eight, polite and welcoming smiles regardless of the time on the face of the three or four employees opening. A bashful smile on your own lips as you made your way to the computer room, sitting furthest away from the door, where no one would see your activities.

You weren’t sure of the world, slivers of information and memories resurfaced before you could grasp onto. The fear of the memories decaying causes your heart rate to race, palms to sweat. You pushed yourself to do research, to stop the memories from erasing, the fear of them being gone forever, only for to discover later that they couldn’t really be erased. It was all in your long-term memory, hidden deep in the subconscious part of your mind.

The browser opened with a banner across, one that read S.H.I.E.L.D information now available for public eye: data on Captain America, death of Starks, Winter Soldier...

Click.Screen loading, few more people made their way into the computer room and you couldn’t help but take a quick glance around. The screen fully loaded, and the image of the Winter Soldier appeared on the left-hand side of screen, the caption with giving him addressing him as “James Buchanan Barnes.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the image of him, you scrolled down, not caring that you missed out on one third of the information; you’d do anything to not look at the picture.

You tried to skim through the information, pausing when it became too much for you, until you just couldn’t. His name wouldn’t stick, you couldn’t call him anything else but Winter Soldier. To give him another name was to make him human and you couldn’t do that. The mere thought of his title, Winter Soldier, reminded you of the hours and hours of him throwing you around, sparring and beating you until those commands decided enough was enough, when they saw no signs of any abilities.

A shift in the air made your sit up straight, the browser switched to one about politics happening across the ocean and the way the “Accords” were mixed in. You peered over your shoulder and pulled your fingers away, minimal currents of electricity running along your skin and that stupid, familiar twist in your neck.

His cold, icy eyes scanned the room. When they met with yours, the air electrified. Other patrons’ heads turned as strands of their hair stuck up. You stood, refusing to break eye contact but refusing to cause a scene in the library.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his eyes scanned over your tensed figure and your dancing fingers, the way they curled individually inwards towards your palm and back out, a continuous pattern. He moved, eyes still on you as he took one of the computers and your breathing heavy, body tensed as you moved past him and out the library. You didn’t see him sit at your computer.

Millions of thoughts ran through your head. What the hell was he doing there? Was he in Bucharest because you were here? Was he here to bring you back? Did he know where you were staying? Did he know about your abilities? Did they know about your abilities? Do they –

An inhale that lacked the taste of nicotine and tobacco broke you out of your train of thought. You huffed to yourself, the butt of the cigarette still between your lips. Patting the balcony beside you, a flat and empty pack of 100’s brushed against your hand. A scoff left your lips just as the filter does as well, a quiet thud when it lands on the ground below only you can hear.

A low, careful voice called out to you. You peeked over your shoulder, body tensed and shrunk into itself. Sam, as he introduced himself, called out to you, asking if you were hungry. You were still hesitant, head shaking. Sam asked if you needed anything.

“A pack of cigarettes, if you can.”

“You do realize that isn’t good for you, right.”

“A lot of things aren’t good for us, Sam,” you articulated, your eyes focused back on the skyline.

The third time you saw him, he’s standing across the street from you. You can tell it’s him from the clothes he wore. Layered jacket, black worn-out baseball cap, red Henley, and black gloves. His hair tucked behind his ears, his body moving so freely as he picked up a few plums and held them to the owner of the fruit stand.

He looks around, over his shoulders every few seconds. A fake, carefree smile contradicts his tense and stormy eyes. He turned around, the small black bag in his hands, and made his way towards the curb of the crowded street. His eyes are frantically moving, looking for danger. His lips are slightly parted, his face handsome with the light sprinkle of stubble.

There a was a small moment that made you question whether this was really the Winter Soldier for a brief moment. He stopped when a police car, sirens ringing, passed by him. His eyes followed, fear embedded in them followed by quick relief when he realized the sirens and racing vehicle wasn’t for him. The Winter Soldier would have never cared if someone was looking for him, he’d fight right back.

You notice the way his eyes stay on the newsstand longer than usual. You can’t help but to cock your eyebrow up in curiosity. His chest puffs out, his head turns quickly away before moving back to the newsstand. For a second, your heart beat picks up and your fingers itch with unwanted sparks. He sees me.

The smile disappears, his eyes remain tense and stormy. His eyes aren’t on you, but on the man in the newsstand. You can’t see the man’s face, but with the way he looks over at the newsstand worker, you can tell he’s sensing danger.

Cars stop zooming past, the crowd disperses and makes their way across the street, he joins them. He moves closer to the newsstand body tense, head turned towards the figure in a tracksuit, stumbling and rushing their way past the people walking the opposite direction, glances over his shoulder and face full of panic.

In his gloved hands, a Romanian newspaper sits. His cheek muscle tenses, lips pressed shut, eyes scanning his surroundings for something you’re not sure of. He sets the paper down and casually makes his way back where he came from, disappearing into the crowd. Nonchalantly, you make your way to the newsstand, peering over at the paper on the countertop.

Vienna Explosion: Known suspect, James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier.

James,you mentally repeat to yourself. James Buchanan Barnes. That’s who this man appeared to be, James, not the Winter Soldier. Not completely. You followed him and that’s how you found yourself in your apartment building, not even knowing he was also residing there.

You were on the stairwell when the sounds of boots and German soldiers echoed through the entire building. They rushed, pushing you aside, to the top floor. They all shouted commands, one with the battering ram slamming into the peeling red door. Moments later, the concrete beside the door broke and you caught the sight of silver shine.

His body slammed through the door and you caught sight of him, punching and pushing the officers aside. A few seconds later, a man in with a shield, who you assumed to be Captain America, rushed out, following him. They both punched and pushed, clearing the way for themselves. Then you heard it.

Barnes and Captain Rogers are resisting. Another project is with them, subject Em, is in the building.

A twist in your neck and the smell of rain filled the air, the once distinct and familiar scent; something about that title “subject Em” didn’t sit well with you, familiar and strange at the same time.  Both men’s eyes landed on you for a brief moment when the air shifted. Commands to grab you as well were shouted.

Sparks danced off your fingers, eyes locked with both men before you gave them a smile. The closest officer made a grab for you. You side stepped, hand opened with your palm facing up and thrusted it towards his neck. The open your fingertips touched the skin of his neck, he froze. Pink scar tissue spread on his skin, branching figures that resembled cracked ice; Lichtenberg figures.

You pulled away before the shock killed him, his body on the floor. In swift movement, you shouted for the two soldiers to get away from the railing, your hand grasping the metal. The smell switched from fresh rain to the faint smell of peaches and vanilla. Officers dropped, their bodies twitching.

Sparks still danced on your fingers, making their way up your wrist and up to your elbow. Rogers was a few floors above and… he used the hot railing to land right in front of you. Your hands fisted, ready for an attack until he grabbed you by the shoulders and kicked a door down, pushing you into the corridor with a door open, the afternoon sky bright and inviting.

“Who are you running from?” He questioned. A quick glance towards you, his body tense. He took a few steps back.

“From the same people you are, apparently.”

You knew exactly what he was going to do and followed in his steps. His body lurched forward, feet carrying him off the edge and into the daylight. You can’t explain what it was, but your feet carried you right after him. Your heart dropping to your stomach as your feet no longer touched solid surface, your body soaring through the air for seconds, landing on the building right below.

A brand-new pack of cigarettes brought you out of your memories, your hands fumbling with the box. Sam called your name out and you turned around, already having one of the nicotine sticks between your lips. A quick spark on your fingers and you inhaled the menthol tasting smoke, your body relaxed.

“Steve asked if you’re ready,” Sam pushed, his body next yours, arms resting on the railing of the balcony.

“An experiment of HYDRA,” you looked at Sam who nodded to tell you got it right, “joining a group of rogue heroes to fight their hero besties.” Wiggling your fingers, sparks danced, and you exhaled smoke with a shrug. “Why wouldn’t I be ready? I was made for things like this, wasn’t I?”

-

“White Wolf! White Wolf!” the children called out. This was new name, a new title that did not bring the hairs on your nape to stick up, that did not cause the air to smell like fresh rain and your fingers to tingle with raw electricity and your neck to feel that twist.

Shuri gave you a smile and you returned it with a nod. Ripples in the water brought a small smile to your face, your hands held behind your back. He walked, his movements relaxed, between you and Shuri. You glanced over at him, his eyes trained on the water.

“Had a good night?” he asked. The small smile on your lips grew into a genuine one.

“As good helping a one-armed man with his goats gets,” you shrugged, “how about yourself?”

Bucky scoffs in response, a roll of his eyes.

The fear once embedded in you took a while to ease. When you realized he hadn’t been the Winter Soldier for years, with the exception of the bastard that used Bucky to tear about Steve and Mr. Stark, you started to piece everything together. The night at the bakery and the day at the library, it was never the Winter Soldier. Didn’t mean that you didn’t fear that version of the man.

While Bucky, he told you no more calling him the Winter Soldier or James, was in the cryo and Shuri worked on ridding his mind of the triggers, she also focused on figuring out where the sparks came from, what triggered them, and why the air changed around you when your electricity danced through your body.

The day you stepped into the village and interacted with the kids, you felt free. Your memories were coming in, some staying, others still disappearing before they became permeant, before you were able to pull them to your working memory and conscious at any given time.

One of the village kids came running to you, white paint on his arm resembling the branching of the Lichtenburg figure. His smile wide, hand around your wrist to tug you down. You didn’t resist the giggle and smile when he dragged his paint covered finger over your inner forearm, replicating the figure on his skin onto your own.

“Thank you,” you whispered in his native tongue. It was one the words you asked Shuri to first teach you.

“Come on, Sparky, you and White Wolf still have a long way to go,” Shuri grinned. You rolled your eyes and followed Shuri, Bucky close behind.

The air around you stayed the same. No static and smell of fresh air. There were no unwanted sparks of electricity that danced at your fingertips nor on your skin, no tingling nor fidgeting of your fingers. There was no twist in your neck. You smiled at yourself, walking beside Bucky, following Shuri, ready for the next step.

[pompadourpink]

Common terminations

Ø  :

Ø/e : bleu/bleue (blue), français/française (french),

A :

ais/aîche : frais/fraîche (fresh, cool)

al/ale : animal/animale, banal/banale (commonplace) 

an/anne : paysan/paysanne (rural) 

an/ane : roman/romane (romanic), musulman/musulmane (muslim) 

at/atte : chat/chatte (chat) 

at/ate : avocat/avocate (laywer), plat/plate (flat),

C :

c/cque : grec/grecque (greek) 

c/que : public/publique 

c/che : blanc/blanche (white), sec/sèche (dry), 

D :

deur/drice : ambassadeur/ambassadrice,

E :

e/e : honnête, drôle (funny) 

e/esse : maître-sse (preschool teacher), prince-sse 

é/esse : abbé/abbesse (abbot) 

eau/elle : beau-bel/belle (beautiful), jumeau/jumelle (twin) 

eil/eille : pareil/pareille (same), vieil/vieille (old) 

el/elle : actuel-le (current), officiel-le 

en/enne : chien-ne (dog), européen-ne 

er/ère : cher/chère (expensive, dear), fier/fière (proud) 

et/ette : muet-te (mute) 

et/ète : discret/discrète, secret/secrète 

eu/aïque : hébreu/hébraïque 

eur/eure : ingénieur-e (engineer), 

eur/eresse : pécheur/pécheresse (sinner), vengeur/vengeresse (revengeful) 

eur/euse : danseur/danseuse (dancer), menteur/menteuse (liar) 

eux/eille : vieux/vieille (old), 

F :

f/ve : neuf/neuve (new), naïf/naïve (naive),

G :

g/gue : long/longue 

gu/guë : exigu/exiguë (cramped, tiny),

I :

i/ite : favori/favorite 

il/ille : gentil/gentille (nice) 

in/igne : malin/maligne (cunning), bénin/bénigne (benign),

O :

o/ote : rigolo/rigolote (funny - childish) 

on/onne : bon/bonne (good), patron/patronne (boss) 

on/one : mormon/mormone, nippon/nippone (japanese) 

on/ote : idiot/idiote, dévot/dévote (devout) 

ot/otte : sot/sotte (stupid) 

ou/olle : fou/folle (crazy), mou/molle (soft (neg), squishy),

S :

s/sse : bas/basse (low), gros/grosse (fat),

T :

teur/teuse : menteur/menteuse (liar), chanteur/chanteuse (singer) teur/trice : conducteur/conductrice (driver), lecteur/lectrice (reader) teur/teresse : enchanteur/enchanteresse (bewitching),

U :

ul/ule : consul/consule 

ul/ulle : nul/nulle (null, non existent),

X :

x/ce : doux/douce (sweet, soft) 

x/se : époux/épouse (spouse), jaloux/jalouse, heureux/heureuse (happy) 

x/sse : faux/fausse (fake), roux/rousse (red haired).

Invariables: words borrowed from other languages (sexy, hippie); châtain (brown haired), enceinte (pregnant), grand- (grand-mère)...

Movie: Le magnifique - Philippe de Broca, 1973

[wordacrosstime]

Life Lessons From A Brain Surgeon

[Life Lessons From A Brain Surgeon. Dr Rahul Jandial MD PhD. 4 June 2019. Penguin Random House. / Paperback: Penguin Life. 6 February 2020. 272 pages. Size 198mm x 17mm x 129mm. Weight 191g. ISBN 9780241338704 / data thanks to publisher]

Popular science books abound on newsstands and in bookstores.  Their popularity can be attributed to their ability to both inform and entertain.  I have reviewed a number  of these books here at Words Across Time.  Though all of the ones I've read and reviewed have been outstanding in many ways, I confess that the book currently under review here is perhaps the best to date.

I received this book as a Christmas gift from my wife.  Knowing that I have a lively sense of humor, I figured that she had given me a book of humorous aphorisms, at least based  on the title.  Happily, my surmise was incorrect; what I read instead was an amazing book stuffed to the brim with lively and thought-provoking anecdotes from a genius in neurosurgery and science. Author Dr Rahul Jandial works in Los Angeles on extremely compelling kinds of medical issues involving the brain.  His book recounts dozens of such scenarios.

For example, one patient he treated had a tumor that needed to be removed, and the only path to the tumor involved navigating through a section of the brain responsible for language.  The patient was bilingual in Spanish and English.  To "scout" the path, her brain was exposed while she was still awake (the immediate area of the incision was anaesthetized, of course) so that tiny electrical impulses could be applied to small sections of her brain known as the Broca's area (and a related area called Wernicke's area) and her ability to comprehend and respond to questions in both languages was thereby mapped.  Dr. Jandial used tiny squares of (essentially) Post-It notes to color-code the areas where electrical disruptions caused linguistic loss; by this process he was able to develop a 3-dimensional surgical strategy to reach and resect the tumor without causing the patient any loss of her language faculties.  This anecdote had a sequel later in the book when the patient had a recurrence of the tumor - I'll leave it to the reader to discover how this worked out.

The preceding example is by no means unique or even the most challenging of issues recounted by Dr Jandial.  However, such recountings can get a bit tedious if presented one after the other, so to break up the monotony, Dr Jandial also throws in three types of sidebars at regular intervals.  These sidebars are:

Neuro-Geek:  Interesting facts about the brain that go above and beyond the information imparted in the anecdotes.

Neuro-Gym:  Tips and techniques for maintaining a healthy, active, and well-nourished brain.

Neuro-Busted:  Debunking of myths and misunderstandings about the brain and how it works (Example:  The notion that people are inherently "right-brain" or "left-brain" is largely false, based on numerous clinical and laboratory studies).

All of this is told in a remarkably informal, personal style by Dr Jandial.  He includes a few stories about his own journey into medicine, his habits and routines with his family and in his professional practice, and some really practical notes on conundra faced by both his patients and himself in the course of his surgical practice.  The book is a really good, fairly fast read, and the reader will be rewarded with an extensive glimpse into a world most of us (thank heavens!) will never have any direct contact with.

I highly recommend this book for pretty much anyone!  As the saying goes, this recommendation "isn't brain surgery" - and yet, it is!

Image credits and with thanks to: Book cover (c) Penguin. Portrait of Rahul Jandial (c) Armchair Expert armchairexpertpod.com

Kevin Gillette

Words Across Time

1 April 2021

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