#and a continued problem i have with doctor who is whenever they bring up real world discrimination and not just Scifi Allegory

[tea-earl-grey]

i do like the general concept of dot and bubble but rtd please hire Black writers, i'm begging you.

[drdemonprince]

Your blog is like a breath of fresh air. Thank you for all the wonderful thoughts and writing.

That said I actually have a question. I am pro-palestine(it feels stupid to call it that, as if it should even be a debate) and in a very left leaning friend group. But also a very white academic one. You know the type, read Marx, dream of the revolution but continue studying to end up in 9 to 5s instead of doing anything(I am guilty of it too, this isn't meant as insult just a description)

Anyways, as you can imagine they have been extremely hesitant when it comes to having any opinion on Israel or Palestine. That wouldn't be a problem in itself, I know how to start topics with them and get them thinking usually but in this case there is an additional problem. Whenever I try to broach the topic I get shutdown with "Look at all the shit that is going on here, our country is falling into fascism, I just don't have the energy to deal with this conflict. Please don't talk about it because it's triggering". And I have zero clue what to do. Forget getting them to go on protests with me, I can't even speak to them about it and feel really guilty. Its me bringing up a heavily triggering topic after all. It feels wrong to feel guilty though. I know at the end of the day it's not important if I could convince some people to give a fuck but do you have any advice? How to get over this guilt or maybe how to broach a topic with that considered?

My main problem is my fear of losing my friends because I have been ill for some time(as in physically unable to leave the house for more than a short grocery run, or my visits to the doctor, because of pain and my friends are what keep me alive) and losing their help would be not good.

My exact situation aside, do you have advice for someone to broach a topic that others describe as unpleasant/triggering without causing a huge rift in the group?

Thanks for your kind words and your question, Anon.

I think your friends suck and that you can do better than them. I think you should get out there and find yourself some Black, brown, working class anarchist and anarco-communist buds (and Marxists who show up for others in a real, observable way in their regular lives) as soon as you can.

I know that wasn't the answer you were looking for. But I have seen this kind of entirely theoretical, jaded, self-superior, passive, white well-off Marxist type a thousand times before, and I've failed to ever see them show up for other people in any kind of consistent way.

And it's not only the people systematically crushed beneath the wheel of Capital half a world away that they neglect, either. They tend to be pretty shitty friends and neighbors when it all comes down to it on the micro-level, too. Their smug over-intellectualism and dispassionate cynicism allows them to justify remaining disengaged and going along with the status quo in a way that ultimately serves capitalism very well.

There is a theoretical basis to this selfishness and disengagement, I will admit. This type of overly academic Marxist typically believes that the fall of capitalism is inevitable, that humans lack free will and only behave as befits their obvious material interests, and that there is nothing that one can do on a personal level to hasten any kind of Revolution, so there is nothing left to do but wait, and take care of oneself, and allow the future to unfold.

This is a perspective explicitly advocated for by people like the Chapo Trap House guys, and among academic white boy communist types, it is incredibly popular. I remember hearing Matt Christman saying on his vlogs that he essentially does not believe the conditions allowing capitalism to fall will happen in his lifetime, and so his only responsibility is to just take care of himself and his family and be comfortable.

Ultimately, these types wind up sounding and behaving exactly like capitalist economists who believe that everyone is rationally motivated only by increasing their personal wealth. They are disengaged from politics except insofar as they like to make snide jokes about current events for their own entertainment and enrichment, and they don't see themselves as having the capacity to exert a positive influence on the world, nor any obligation to. It's bleak shit.

At the same time, if your friends are in the circles that tend to read and listen to and promote this kind of stuff, surely they have also been exposed to popular leftist voices advocating loudly for the Palestinian cause. And yet still they have done nothing.

Hasan Piker has been vocally pro-Palestine his entire career, and his Twitch channel has been providing near constant coverage of Palestinian issues since October 7th. True Anon has had multiple episodes on the Israel Lobby, the suppression of pro-Palestinian activism and journalistic coverage, and has aired interviews with Normal Finkelstein. Palestine is the central topic of nearly every Trillbilly Worker's Party podcast for months now.

These are widely popular voices among the very types of Marxists that you say that your friends are, and many of these creators are close friends with the Chapo Trap House guys, whom your friends almost certainly are taking notes from. So it's nearly impossible to imagine that your friends have not encountered the near constant coverage of the struggle of the Palestinians that all the rest of us have. And yet still your friends do nothing. Still they do not care, and dismiss you when you share with them how despairing you feel.

Your friends have turned off an essential part of their hearts, I think. And I don't mean they lack empathy. Not having empathy is fine, I don't have it either -- but I make the conscious choice to care about the Palestinian cause and to advocate for it, because it aligns with my values. I give a fuck. My giving a fuck is conveyed through my actions, not through what I think about or how I feel.

Your friends are showing no interest in learning more about this genocide or doing anything about it. Perhaps some degree of ignorance or hesitancy could be justified early on because the Israeli apologist propaganda is so far reaching, but we're well past the point of that explaining away inaction by now. Over 100,000 people are missing and over 30,000 are known to be dead and little girls are being shot by snipers while seeking medical care while babies are left to rot in their NICU beds.

Your friends know this. Maybe not everyone in the world does, but if they're so well-read about leftist issues, your friends do. And they have chosen, for some reason, not to care. They've disconnected from the pain the Palestinian people are in, unplugged from the steady stream of upsetting information, sought comfort in a politics that says all too conveniently that nothing they do matters, and when you try to share with them how much anguish you are feeling about the mass deaths happening throughout the world, they're dismissive toward you.

Your friends suck. If acknowleding reality and confronting the horrors of a genocide is too tough and triggering for them, then a lot of horrors here at home will be too much for their fragile egos too. There are so many leftists you could be surrounding yourself with instead, I promise -- people who give back to their communities, people who are in the streets doing the tough work of feeding and housing and fighting for the release from prison of people every day, instead of using those local struggles as a shield for their inaction on a more global scale.

Fuck these people for real. This is a big glaring red flag and it will be relevant to your friendship and your life. One day many of them might see you and your problems and your human needs as too much of a distraction from their dry academic jerk-off sessions too. I've seen it a dozen times. Sorry to be so blunt. But you seem like a person who is putting their attention in all the right places and I don't want to see that compassion squandered on people who won't ever show you the same consideration. You can find people who actually walk the walk, they're everywhere.

[angelofthenight]

The Monster You Created Pt.6

(Sam Fortner x Reader)

Warnings: Yandere!Sam, Dark themes, Swearing, Kidnapping situation, Unreciprocated love, Sam is v delusional, Murder visualization, Possessiveness, Brief victim blaming, Manipulation

Word Count: 4.1k

(S/n) = Similar Name to yours

Table of Contents

( Sorry for the late update! Game of Thrones has taken over my life and I’m suffering major brainrot of it )

~

“-and she was telling me that “snow can conceal but it can also reveal”, that’s what she told me right? So they might briefly be able to conceal their, uh, whereabouts, but all that blood spilled into all that white snow is bound to leave a trail leading straight to them. Her words exactly. Like, wow.” Sam said on the couch under a cap and his passionate eyes shaded by sunglasses while restating your personal analysis of the film from last night. “I didn’t know that, did you know that?”

Doctor Alan Strauss shook his head with an amused small smile. “I never thought about it in that way.” Sam threw his hands out with an enthusiastic laugh and big smile. “Exactly!” He sighed joyfully, not being able to cease his wide smile. “She is so smart, it's unbelievable.”

Alan nodded along until he decided to finally bring up the issue that’s been affecting their every therapy session. “Gene, I find it very endearing how much you love your girlfriend, but we’re here to talk about you. Need I remind you that I am not a couple’s counselor.” Sam’s smile slowly lowered and he looked to his hands in his lap. “Yeah, I… I know.”

Alan tilted his head vaguely as he noticed Sam’s energy die down like a candle once he got him to shut up about his girlfriend. “Gene, we’ve been meeting for quite awhile now and I… still feel like I don’t know much about you. I know more about your girlfriend than I do you. You spend most of the session talking about your girlfriend, (S/n), and the rest of the time I feel like you’re waiting for me to mention something related to her so you can bring her up again. And I've noticed that… you're not really opening yourself up to me.”

He noticed Sam’s clear displeasure at his prying as Sam wrung his hands together in an anxious manner. “Whenever I ask for stories or details, you have a tendency to get kind of vague or you redirect the conversation back towards (S/n). And I've noticed that I myself am feeling a little frustrated by this process. When we first started talking, you said to me that you wanted to get better for her. And the more I listen to you… continuously talk about her I’m starting to worry about the possibility of you being a little… dependent on her in an unhealthy amount.”

Sam didn’t tear his gaze away from his twisting hands, too focused on containing his expanding desire to lash out at his therapist for saying such a thing. He loved you, simple as that. Maybe Dr. Strauss has just never seen such passionate love before and didn’t understand it. Yeah, that was it! He just didn’t understand! He didn’t understand the connection you and he had. No one did. Not even his own therapist who he was paying to at least pretend to understand.

Alan disappointedly sighed at his patient's silence, even though he knew from experience that was the average reaction when telling someone what their real problem was. “I have an experiment for you.” He said which finally brought Sam’s attention back on him, a little more on edge than previously. “I think you should start spending a little less time with your girlfriend, and focus more on yourself and your mental recovery.”

Sam stared at the professional across from him, his upper lip slightly lifting. “You think we should break up?”

Alan sensed his client’s tensity, even through his dark sunglasses. He knew he had to choose his words carefully, he learned through some of their deeper sessions that talking with him about the things he has strong feelings or opinions about was like walking on a minefield. You never know when you might step on a trigger for an explosion. “No, I suggest maybe taking a break and go back when you’re feeling-”

“No!” Sam instantly snapped, a mine being set off, before recoiling back into the couch and clearing his throat from his unprepared temper burst. He shook his head while pursing his lips. “I… I won’t do it. I-I need her. When I’m away from her, I get so…” his fingers curled as he struggled to find the words, “like, so physically ill… and weak.”

Alan nodded at this with concern tugging his lips, mentally noting how defensive he got over the questioning of his relationship to his girlfriend. “It sounds to be that your… attachment to her is very similar to an addiction. And a healing strategy they encourage in rehab is slow withdrawal. You might face some painful symptoms but Rome wasn’t built in a da-”

“I think our time is up.” Sam interrupted rather dryly while rising to his feet, cutting off Dr. Strauss’ reach and closing himself off before he had the chance to enter. Alan glanced at the clock and responded calmly while looking up at his escaping patient. “We still have 20 minutes.”

Sam begrudgingly shook his head as he snatched his empty large Dunkin cup from the table that sat between the two facing chairs. “I gotta get going.” He said quickly as he darted out of the house in a heated haste, desperately needing fresh air to calm his huffing breaths from the rage he felt fuzzing up his senses.

Everyone was trying to tear the two of you apart. Everyone.

Even his own therapist was against his love for you, against the two of you being together. Not a soul understood which made him certain that no one alive had ever really experienced real love before. They were all either ignorant or jealous or lecherous.

Everyone was trying to take you away from him. Everyone was trying to devour you or taint you or just use you for their own selfish needs. Sam had already come to the conclusion that he was not a monster, everyone else were the monsters. The monsters that could never be trusted, the monsters whose minds were full of nothing but filth and greed. They were all cruel and ignorant. Every single one of them. In a state of sizzling rage boiling over the pot, Sam fantasized that if he had it his way then anyone who dared tried to keep the two of you apart or even imply it would drop dead in their next breath.

Sam squeezed his grip around the steering wheel of his truck, his eyes blown open as his pupils nearly shook like his iris’ were trying to keep his fury concealed. No matter how many people he had killed, he felt as if rivals or embodied problems just multiplied. And he repeated that thought in his head like a chant as he somehow found himself staring at the residence of the one he wanted to take his anger out on so badly right now.

He watched the man from your work, who had his sights set on your behind when you left his table, as he carried a full black garbage bag to the bin outside of his house. Sam didn’t move as he stared with flared eyes, his breath almost going silent to muzzle his anger with every ounce of his willpower.

He wished the man would just go blind, maybe that would teach him not to look at such areas on your body in such a disgusting way. He wished to rip his tongue out to prevent him from ever talking about you to others in such a filthy way again. And he wished to chop off the arm you had touched, jealousy streaming through his veins like lava as he wondered why the hell would you touch him like that and not Sam?

But he chose to ignore his own wishes and just imagine these desires in his head in intensely graphic detail. He imagined himself getting out of his car and marching right up to the man and plunging his thumbs all the way through his eye sockets. He imagined the blood running down his cheeks like tearful mascara.

He kept this all in his imagination though and repeatedly told himself to just go home, looking at the man was just making him angrier and more energetic to eliminate him. But he couldn’t. As much as he wanted to and as much he whole-heartedly believed your life would be better without him living, he knew that would postpone Sam’s recovery to be normal so that you and him could live a normal life.

And so, even when his mind was running a thousand miles per hour over who else he wished to butcher, he turned his car back on and drove home back to you. But not before picking up dinner though of course since that was the reason he went out in the first place. But even after the drive and during eating dinner with you, his previous thoughts still infested his mind like the plague.

It leached onto his nervous system as when he would take a bite out of his food he would chomp down harshly with a tightly gripped jaw; a white knuckled hold on his fork as his eyes were chained to the table because looking at you just made his anger worse. It wasn’t you who he was mad at of course, but looking up at your fragile form and seraphic eyes only reminded him of the ones who wanted nothing other than to take advantage of your indiscriminate altruism and cruelly rip you from his loving embrace.

It wasn’t until the remembrance that you wanted him to be open about who he had killed and who he had thought about killing crossed him that he finally said the first thing said in the tensely quiet dinner. “That guy who… who checked out your ass and is friends with my boss, I went back to his house again.”

Your eyes perked up towards him, your heart almost skipping a beat from the sudden break of silence. You felt your worries tug your eyebrows up as you feared where he was going with that statement.

Sam poked at his food with his fork as he continued, only giving you quick glances. “I figured I'd be okay, since what you said about feeling better knowing you’re here.” He took a slow breath, almost antagonizing your suspense. “I sat in my car across the street, and watched him take out the trash.” He paused. “I did the whole thing in my head, every second.”

You swallowed thickly, feeling relief grasp your fragile heart but not all the anxiety drained from your ribs. Not as clear indignation was still affecting Sam’s composure as he looked up at you with those dead eyes that had a tendency to come and go during the times where your fright was at its most sensitive.

“I-I want to show him… I-I want to teach him how to behave to things that don’t belong to him.” He spoke slowly as he huffed jagged breaths. “I… I still want to do it. God, even talking about it is making it worse.” He hunched over to shove a bite of food into his mouth to occupy his steaming energy.

As much as you wanted to snap at him saying you weren’t property or an object, you held back. You didn’t bother arguing over that with a man. But watching his anger gradually unfold in a sloppy entanglement of strings, a question raised to your mind in hopes of searching for more redeeming qualities in him. “For the others you… got rid of, was it always an impulse move you ended up regretting?”

“No.” Sam instantly said, not even giving it a second thought, in between bites. “They were all... I… Every one of them deserved it. And I don’t regret any of it.”

Your brows cinched together at this, your mind going back to when he told you everyone he had unnecessarily killed over you. “Even the guy I gave CPR to at work that one time?” Sam rolled his eyes as his jawline became prominent. “Especially him. I know what was running through his mind when you had your hands pressed up against him. That asshole was enjoying it and getting his disgusting kicks.”

You bit your tongue to prevent yourself from saying something along the lines of ‘no, you just know that’s what you would think you pervert’. But instead you just stuck to a short statement defending that poor victim. “He was choking.”

Sam fleetingly clenched his teeth as he shook his head in denial. “Fucking sly bastard was faking it, he knew what he was doing.” His clenched fists began to twitch in his lap as he thought back to that day, suddenly wishing he had given him a more painful death. Your eyebrows furrowed together even deeper. “He was turning blue and his eyes were rolling all the way to the back of his head.” Sam didn’t respond and only shook his head again as he slightly rocked back and forth on his heels while heated huffs populated his nose.

“And what about-” Sam roughly dropped his fork and leaned back in his chair to send you an angered glare. “I don’t know why you keep asking about them. They’re dead now.” He said with a venomous bite in his voice.

Your bottom lip fell from your top, shocked and quite offended that he would just brush all those deaths under the rug. They needed to be addressed whether he liked it or not. “Yeah. Because of you.” You snapped back, copying his glare.

Sam leaned back forward so that his elbows were back on his knees, his once furrowed brows now curving up. “They tried to take you away from me! I had to do something!” He exclaimed as his eyes dilated with depravity interlaced by the seams of desperation. “I told you they couldn’t be trusted. I got rid of them before they became an even worse problem for you. You’re better off without them anyway.” He declared with a dismissive headshake.

You leaned forward as well, your brows pinching together. “And what do you think gives you the right to make those decisions for me?” Sam released a breathy chuckle in disbelief, staring at you as if you were crazy. “We were made for each other, can’t you see that?!” He exclaimed like it was the most obvious thing in the word; his tone desperate and pathetic, almost sounding as if he were begging you to agree.

“None of them appreciate you like I do, none of them understand you like I do. Why can’t you see that? None of them come close to deserving you.” He smacked his hands on his knees to push himself to a stand, too caught up in the swirling storm of greedy desperacy. “And call me selfish, I don’t care, but I can’t share you with anyone else. I won’t.” He shook his head as he looked to the ground with hardened eyes while turned away from you, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Even thinking about you with someone else makes me want to throw up.” He said with big eyes, blown open in a state of animalistic possessiveness of something that was never his to begin with.

Sam’s tamed restraints were loosening and his mask of sane love was slipping, you could hear it through the drowsy glorification of fixated obsession of his ramble and you could see it through the way his jealousy tightened the muscles in his face.

You stiffened in pure dismay, watching him unfold then wrap his exposed emotions back in again as you tried to understand the enigma that was his deep rooted passion for you and how he went about it.

Now you were certainly no stranger to witnessing someone express their jealousy over you, having been subjected to receiving interrogations from your boyfriend over his allegation of your faithfulness when you got too touchy with one of your guy friends. You’ve never been a fan of the emotion as nothing good ever came of it.

Looking back on your friendship with Sam, you were shockingly disappointed that you hadn’t noticed Sam’s jealousy when it was literally right in front of you every single time you briefly conversed with any other person about literally anything. Living with your boyfriend you’ve grown familiar with recognizing jealousy forming. But perhaps Sam had trained his face to remain neutral during moments he surely would’ve imploded if he were alone.

And with your naivety to his burning jealousy came your naivety to his true feelings about you. But looking back you should’ve seen it coming, at least notice how similar his mannerisms around you were to a crushing little school girl.

His feelings for you were almost difficult for you to understand. You thought back to the statement someone had once said in your philosophy class: that love was just a normalized form of insanity. You always had mixed feelings in that debate but now you started to wonder if love wasn’t insanity but instead love causes insanity. You didn’t know what Sam’s mental state was like before meeting you so you weren’t sure if you were really the cause of his sanity’s downfall.

But either way you know that there is something wrong with him; something sickeningly distorted within his fogged mind of fixation that made him take love too far. Maybe he just didn’t know how to express his feelings nor how to go about dealing with the pain love inevitably came with.

Why was this happening? Why you? Was your kindness really so foreign or warm to him that it was enough to push him down the rabbit hole of hysterical adulation? Were you really that desirable in Sam’s eyes that he would inflict life-ending violence on all those who posed a threat to your peace or to him obtaining you?

God, maybe you were still clinging to the image of that endearingly awkward man you’ve grown to value as a true friend rather than a regular customer but you just couldn’t picture him hurting anyone no matter how many times he had confessed to doing so. You had such love-hate feelings for Sam, love for the friendly bond you still experienced such a weakness against and hate for how he ignorantly wreaked havoc over you by holding you prisoner until the stockholm syndrome kicked in, him being delusionally isolated from the knowledge that his actions were only creating a bigger rift between you and falling for him.

It wasn’t until a thought was birthed into your mind that you started coming to your own conclusions that could possibly convince Sam to second guess his choices. Sociopaths couldn’t feel love, so maybe he was just manipulating himself into believing he loved you.

“I know you said you don’t take pleasure in killing but… are you sure? Maybe you’re just using me as an excuse and a justified reason.” You asked carefully, looking up at him with quiet eyes as your heart was racing over the fear you were being too risky with his temper that was already kicking in the moment.

And you were right, your question caused Sam to snap his head over to your direction. His small pupiled eyes were venomously glossy with his nostrils flared and his lips parted with a grip, his brows pinching together. You felt your whole body flinch in a flight mode of fear as he suddenly started marching back towards you with a raised volume and harsh tone in his voice.

“I only kill because of you! Maybe if you would stop talking to so many peo-” He bit back his words into his throat as he noticed the way your shoulders tensed and you slightly twisted on your core as if you were bracing for him to assail you, your bottom lashes smeared with slimy tears.

He took a step back from your fear-stricken form as he ran one hand through his dark hair and the other held palm out to you in an attempt to say he meant no harm. “Ah shit, I’m sorry. God, fuck, I… Don’t be scared, I’m not mad at you, I could never be mad at you. It’s them. It’s them I’m mad at, not you.”

You hadn’t even realized your own reaction until you swallowed the thick lump in your throat and sniffle through your nose. You gulped again as you craned your eyes away from Sam and occupied your hands by rubbing them on either of your elbows to comfort yourself, just like what your mom would do with you after your dad had screamed at you till the point of your pouring tears. “I think it’s time for me to go to bed.” You said through a tight throat as you stood up to walk back over to lay in your bed, cursing yourself for reacting that way in front of Sam.

Sam speechlessly watched as you slipped under the covers and wrapped yourself up in a way to cradle yourself. He didn’t want you to cower in the corner and hug your own body to comfort yourself, that was supposed to be his job! He wanted you to love him enough to go to him for a protective embrace for safety and comfort.

He didn’t mean to lash out at you like that! He didn’t mean to blame you for your own nature. And he certainly didn’t mean to scare you nor make you fear that he was going to hit you. He would never hit you, he was not his father. He just wanted you to get that already! Why couldn’t you understand?

He felt his own throat grow heavy as he watched as you tried to restore yourself back together from the emotional injury of his outburst. Sam bit his lip, dragging his teeth as his gaze sharpened on you. “You probably think I’m nothing more than a monster while all I do is try to protect you.” He said to you, not even realizing the snotty defensiveness in his vocal chords.

It was silent for a few moments, like it was taking a millennium for his words to echo to your ears, and he started to believe you weren’t going to say anything at all. Sam sighed in disbelief, darting his eyes around the room at how this night ended as he turned for the pursuit of his room. Your soft voice, however, spoke up and halted his tracks.

“…I know.”

Sam quickly looked over you, his features softening to match your tone and his eyebrows raised. “Y-you do?”

Your face remained concealed from his wondrous stare as your hunched shoulder along with the thick blanket were blocking the view of your compact smirk. “Yeah, I… I understand that you were just trying to help me. I can’t blame you for being concerned. Maybe I am not a very good judge of character which practically makes me a walking target for social parasites.”

Sam felt a smile twitch the corners of his lips. You were finally getting it! You were finally facing your flaw that made him required to physically harm people. Sam said with a consoling tone of voice, “You’re just too trusting. It’s not your fault. You’re a genuinely good person, pure of heart, too good for this world. In fact, you deserve the world.”

He said all of this with such tender fondness that you almost forgot what kind of person he was; forget your state of lack of freedom and choices. This has happened many times, where he wasn’t shouting either in passion or anger and he just spoke gently with you. Those were the times when you actually believed he loved you and cared deeply about you. Those were the times you hardly believed he was savagely hurting people outside of the house. You would keep forgetting of the rotten part of your reality when he acted this way, it was a complete mindfuck.

And maybe sometimes you liked to pretend that you weren’t a prisoner and he wasn’t a murderer. Pretend your chain didn’t exist and you were just spending the night at your dearly beloved friend’s house. Or just for experimenting, pretending that you and Sam were a healthy and loving couple.

You pondered the question of what if Sam confessed his concealed love to you before kidnapping you. You felt too biased now to ever actually know if you would’ve given him a chance, whether you had a boyfriend or not. But maybe if he told you the truth or even waited long enough for you to start feeling strong feelings for him too, things would have gone much differently. Maybe the two of you could’ve been a happy couple.

But that was only what could have been; what might have been.

Taglist: @alices-halcyon @katlover63 @valareina

[dick-nightwing-grayson]

So whenever I see au’s or other earth’s where Thomas Wayne is batman or a batman like figure, I cannot help but assume that Bruce isn’t actually that off base with what he has done, more he was slightly indoctrinated into the idea when he was young without truly knowing and just did not have the fail safes that Thomas had to stop him.

Like Thomas Wayne, heir, well respected doctor, philanthropist is the original mentally ill vigilante wanna be. Like imagine, he is sitting in the den with Martha

“I don’t know what to do anymore, I am doing the most I can as a doctor, I am throwing my money at every conceivable problem, but nothing is changing. The crime rate has actually gone up and the police force is still full of corruption,” he says despairingly. “What Gotham truly needs is a protector. Someone who can work outside of the corrupt systems. Someone who can enforce the morals to bring this community out of the dark from behind the scenes. What Gotham needs is a dark knight!” and Martha is sitting there like, “hold up there Mr Edgelord, do you even hear yourself?” 

Thomas continues, “Martha, you know I have always been bound by the restraints of my family name. I became a doctor to help, but I want to do more. There is something inside of me. I never really wanted to be a doctor, but what else could I do? I always wished to be a hero. A real hero. Someone who can make a real difference. I want to fight the fight, not just throw money at it. Maybe there is just something darker inside of me... It’s like I am  the night.” Finally Martha, who has had enough, goes “The night? You are the night? Sir, you are a middle aged man with a doctorate and a 2 year old son. You need to slow your roll.”

Ultimately Thomas never acts on it, because Martha is his voice of reason. This is also why Alfred never puts up any real attempt at stopping Bruce. He had heard this kind of talk for years from Thomas and it never came to be.

I suppose ultimately, this is just a long way for me to say that if Bruce had only had a nanny, instead of Alfred, there would be no batman.

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || Faking Your Orgasms [Request] [M??]

A/N/WARNING: SOME OF THESE INCLUDE SMUT

SEOKJIN:

Jin stilled himself as you moaned into the pillow below you, he kept his hands on your hips from behind and pulled out as you frowned, turning to look over your shoulder as he began dressing himself. 

"Jin?" You questioned confused as he looked back at you, 

"If you're going to keep faking it without telling me why I don't want to do this anymore." You felt your heart sink as you realized he knew you'd been faking it. He turned to leave the bedroom but you grabbed onto his hand, 

"Jinnnie, it's not you. I'm the problem," You stared at him with tear-filled eyes as you looked down at your hands, this wasn't how you had planned to tell him but it was the only way you were going to get out of this without him feeling bad about things. 

"I can't cum because there's someone else inside of me and I just...My feelings are all over the place." You could see it only confused Jin more to hear that there was someone else inside of you, 

"Jin I'm pregnant...My hormones and feelings are all over the place. I haven't been able to cum because I-I've been overthinking things..." Jin placed his hands on your stomach, 

"Pregnant?" You nodded as he teared up and began smiling brightly. 

"I didn't tell you yet because I'm not that far along...I was going to wait." You let out a scream at the end of your sentence as he began to cover your stomach in small kisses.

YOONGI:

When you walked into the bedroom that night you saw Yoongi sitting there on the bed with his arms folded, 

"What's up? You look pissed off," You laughed softly thinking one of the guys had annoyed him or something but he took you by your hands and pinned you below him on the bed as you whined.

"Baby?" You giggled but he growled at you as he began sucking on your neck making you moan loudly, wrapping your legs around his waist to drawer him close but he pinned your legs down. 

"No, no touching for you." A shiver ran down your spine as he smirked at you, 

"I heard you and Jungkook talking today." He pulled your skirt down as he smirked at you, rubbing your clit through the fabric of your panties, 

"I haven't made you cum in over a month? So you were faking it... My little princess is so needy she went to the maknae to go and complain," He laughed sarcastically before pushing two fingers into you and humming as you moaned out loudly. 

"Tonight, you're not going to stop cumming." He whispered in your ear before chuckling darkly as you clenched around his fingers. 

HOSEOK:

It was the boys that pointed out you might have been faking your orgasms with Hoseok, they'd heard you one night and then questioned Hoseok on what it was like and they told him the truth. 

"You've been faking it this whole time and I'm the bad guy here?!" Hoseok yelled as he stared at you, you'd been ignoring him since he told you he told the boys about your sex life. 

"You told them about our sex life...Our private life Hobi!" You whined as you covered your face with your hands, the feeling of embarrassment coming back, you were never going to be able to look at them ever again. 

"Why are you faking your orgasms?" He sat down in front of you as you stared down at the floor beside him, it was just something you'd never been able to achieve, you'd never been able to make yourself cum and no one else had either. 

"Some people just can't." You whispered, wiping the tears of your face as you remembered your other relationships going south because you couldn't cum but Hoseok took your hand, 

"Then we'll find a way to make it pleasurable for you, so you won't have to fake it anymore." He promised, kissing your lips softly as you smiled at him.

NAMJOON:

When you drunkenly told Namjoon the night before that you had been faking your orgasms for a while he was hurt, he thought your relationship with one another was built and trust and that he could trust you to tell him when something wasn't working between you. 

"I said that?" You groaned as you took the cup of water from him and sipped on it, wanting nothing more than to end the embarrassment of speaking like this but Namjoon sat down. 

"I was doing some research, we might just need to spice things up a little and you can-" You put your hand on his mouth to stop him from talking and you shook your head. 

"Baby, there's nothing wrong with our sex life." You giggled softly as you rolled over to pick up the tablets you had been prescribed by your doctor a few weeks ago, it was nothing major just some medication for headaches. 

"They've been interfering with my hormones, I come off them soon...I just didn't want to make you feel bad so I faked it for a while," Namjoon blushed deeply as he set himself a mental note to delete his internet history when he went back downstairs, 

"So it's not me?" You shook your head as you kissed him, 

"No baby, it's not you." You whispered before laying back down and groaning about the room spinning.

JIMIN:

It wasn't Jimin's fault that you weren't able to cum it was just something you'd never been able to achieve before so every time you and Jimin would have sex you would just fake it, wanting him to feel like he was doing a good job because he was. The pleasure you experienced with him was like no other but you could never go over the edge and cum, you figured there was just something wrong with you. 

"Jimin, please...It's nothing you did," You clung to his hand as he tried to walk out of the bedroom, you finally came clean and told him that you had been faking it the whole time. You didn't want to build your relationship on lies. 

"I can't even pleasure my own girlfriend," He sat down on the bed feeling defeated but then he looked at you and felt even worse at the thought of you never getting to experience orgasm for real.

"You've never?" You shook your head looking down about to give him the same story you'd given your other ex's, they didn't seem to care as long as they got to cum they were done with you. 

"Well then, we're going to have to find what makes you tick." He smirked pushed you down onto the bed as he kissed you roughly, kissing down your neck as you let out a small whine. 

"You have to be honest this time, tell me what works and what doesn't....We'll get you there baby," He whispered in your ear before biting down on your lobe and kissing down the rest of your body, trying everything to get you to cum and by the end of the night you did. Experiencing a wave of different orgasms from him and finding out just what you did and didn't like during intercourse.

TAEHYUNG:

"What? So this whole time you've just been faking it?" You looked at Taehyung as you heard how hurt he was from the questioning but you looked down at your hands, not being able to bring yourself to stare at the love of your life and tell him he'd never been able to make you cum. 

"It's not you-"

"It's not me it's you? Seriously?" You sighed as he scoffed at you but you shook your head, 

"I can't! I can't cum Taehyung! It's not you, it's me...I-It gets too intense and I feel like it's too much, that I'm going to burst all over the place." You finally called out when he began leaving the room. It was the first time you'd come clean to anybody about orgasming, Taehyung figured it out that you were faking when all of your moans and groans sounded the same and you came clean to him.

"What?" He questioned turning around to look at you with a softer expression on his face, you looked up at the ceiling so the tears that were welling up in your eyes wouldn't start falling. 

"They're too intense...I get so close but I have to stop because it's too much, I feel like I'll burst that it's too much." He blinked at you before kissing you desperately, laying you back against the sheets. 

"What are you doing?" You panted as he began to kiss down your neck, sucking on the sweet spots that you had, 

"You're going to cum, I'm going to prove to you that it's not too much and you weren't burst." You froze in fear but he looked at you, 

"You can trust me." He promised you, kissing your lips softly as you allowed him to continue kissing down your body. That night for the first time you managed to let go of everything and experience what you'd heard so much about. 

JUNGKOOK:

"S-Shit you feel so fucking good princess," Jungkook groaned as he slammed in and out of you, rubbing your clit with his thumb as you rode him. You bit down on your lip trying to suppress your orgasm that was approaching, you cried out before leaning forward putting your head into the crook of his neck. Jungkook stopped thrusting up into you as you began to cry into his shoulder, his arms wrapped around your waist as he held you tightly thinking he'd moved too quickly and hurt you or something. 

"It's okay, I'm sorry...I'm sorry." He whispered over and over again as he ran his hands up and down your back trying to soothe you but you shook your head. 

"I can't do this anymore," You sniffled, pulling your face away from his neck as you wiped your eyes finally deciding you wanted to come clean with him. 

"I-I've been faking it and I just- I was close and then-" He wiped the tears from under your eyes as he frowned, 

"Did I do something wrong? Did I stop you from-"

"No, I didn't want to...I don't want to cum I look disgusting when I cum." He froze in place as he stared back at you not knowing what to say.

"Who told you that? Baby, you're beautiful," He whispered kissing all over your face as you began crying softly at his compliments explaining that one of your exes has been the one to convince you that you looked ugly whenever you would orgasm and it put you off ever wanting to do it again. 

"Princess. I want you to cum, I want you to feel good." He whispered as he kissed you, asking if he could continue and you nodded. Not letting the thoughts of your past experiences cloud your judgement. 

Tagline: @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @rjsmochii​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @agustdjoon​ @jin-from-the-block​ @acciocriativity​ @mwitsmejk​

[nightlight-firelight]

Hi everyone! Sorry for the long wait! Art block (Or writing block?) is the worst and I’ve been busy. I’m also trying to make this a gender neutral story and I’m not too experienced on this so hopefully I’m doing ok so far! Now with that out of the way, on to chapter 2!

“Falling (in love) So Fast That I Can’t Even Think!”

Chapter 2

You take a second to realize that he was holding you a bit tight around the waist, and the silence of the tension began to build every second that neither of you moved.

“Hi?” You ask him. You mentally smacked yourself in the head for that comment. At this point of view, you can see that the, now real and very handsome doctor, eyes were a shade of blue that could take your breath away and-

“Oh, um,” Eggman studdered out a bit softer and less confident the what you have seen him in the show. “Hi.” He finally decided to look around at his predicament and examined your room.

“Where am I?” Eggman finally pulled you back onto the bed, creaking slightly from the unexpected new weight. Your mind finally snaps back into reality as the warmth from his hands fades from your hips, already missing the connection he had. You need to relax, and not freak out the poor man sitting on your bed.

“You’re in my room.” You finally managed to push the words out of your lips. His face turns to confusion and worries at all of the merchandise of not just his universe, but the main Sonic series as well. His mind mostly likely wandered into a ‘crazy fan’ mode and tried to back up. You perk up and lean back slightly, making sure to not fall off the bed this time, but also give him some space to relax. Ivo’s movements began to quicken as he still backs up, almost falling off the other side of the bed. He catches himself and looks at you with a face of slight panic and worry.

“What’s all this? Who are you and what-” You cut him off with a hand slightly raised, signaling to calm down and to relax. “Breath, please. I won’t hurt you.” You promised him as you instruct him through a breathing exercise. After a small bit of confusion between the two of you, you lead the poor man into your living room, hesitantly on his part, and led him down on your couch. Just walking into your kitchen to grab two white ceramic mugs, you hear him clear his throat.

“So, what’s going on?” You can feel his gaze on you as the first mug is filled with hot liquid, the steam coming from the filling mug as your brain thinks of what you should do. You switch mugs, taking out his mug for yours. You take a breath.

You’re in my house, and not in your multiverse.” Finally giving him some type of answer as his, at this point, huge bear paw-like hands, envelope the mug and took a small sip. You went to grab your mug as he commented on the choice of beverage you had given him.

“Hot Cocoa?” The question you as you at on the opposite side of the couch, holding what you liked to think, that at this moment was your liquid courage. You take a small sip and taste the liquid pooling into your body. You almost blush as you remembered the ‘CowBot’ episode where Eggman offered Sonic and Tails hot coco and messed with them, waiting for his machine to arrive.

“I thought you might like it.” You confess as he stairs back into his cup, pondering on his whole situation. He takes a breath and looks at you.

“Can you explain to me how I may have gotten here?” All you could do is nod as you start the long trek into the explanation of who is and on all of your knowledge on how he may have gotten here.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

The next few hours were, as you expected, emotional. You had to start with who you were, where he was, and leading him into the conversation that may or may not have caused way too much emotion for the both of you.

“So the main series follows Sonic and his friends, but mostly Sonic, throughout his adventures fighting his version of the doctor. There in the form of games.” He takes a sec and has a look that tells you to keep going. You explain all the story of how the franchise came to be from the nineties till the game you were kinda worried about. Sonic Adventure 2. You tell him the basic plot points and slowly explain how the Main Univers Doc’s Grandfather died along with his grandchild, Maira. He winces when you explain this and see that he’s shaking whenever the two popped up. When you explained that Shadow was made by his Grandfather, his mood perked up and he getting giddy and you have to admit, his cute squeal of figuring out that somewhere he could be related to one of the most powerful people on his island. You smile and after his cute reaction, keeps the conversation going with more information about the franchise. By the time you had reached the current point of the history of the franchise, the man had a lot of questions.

“So let me get this straight,” Eggman’s posture was lax as he was leaned back into the couch, making himself more at home for the time being. “You’re telling me that the main version of me has released a water monster god, a prototype of Shadow, that is a giant lizard, a god within the earth that’s made of darkness, and tried to play with time and space like it was a toy?” He questioned as he took another sip of his now lukewarm cup of cocoa, stroking his mustache pensively, looking at you for a reasonable answer on why he would do so. “Well the BioLizard thing wasn’t truly his fault, but the rest were planed. And I’m saying ‘planned’ with quotes because I don’t think for a second that he thought a few of those through.” You chuckle at the main Doc’s decisions. While you did think his plans were really good, sometimes you think he may have never really thought things through before going to start his plans. Doc downs the rest of his drink as you realized that your cup is still half full. He sets it on the counter in front of the two of you and leans back into your couch. You smile at the thought that he’s finally warming up to you. In all reality, he could take you down with a swing of his fist and run anytime, but having him trust you this much to serve him a drink and have a nice conversation did bring up some fuzzy feelings you have been trying to push down withing the last few hours.

“So I’m still confused, how did I get here?” Doc asks as he cracks his spin a bit to relax better. You take another sip of your dink and set your cup down. You look him in the eye with a bit of confusion. “I’m not sure. I just watch the DVD and you were the one to start seeing me, after the ending of your battle with Sonic and Tails, that white light appeared and you grabbed me before I fell off my bed.” You look towards him and blush a bit, your face now warm from the memory of the save. “Thank you for catching me, I don’t think a concussion would have helped the situation now, would it?” You try and make the small joke appealing to make it less awkward. He blushes and nods, a small ‘no problem’ slips from his lips as you can see he’s trying to not make eye contact and his cheeks, just slightly visible under his mustache, a small bit of warmth wraps around his cheeks. Your brain gets hit with a moment of clarity and you jump up from the couch and take a second to grab your DVD player from your room, bringing it back to him to study. “I’m not sure if this would help you get back home,” You start, “ But it’s a start.” You also hand him the note that came with the box along with the Sonic figure. He takes the figure first and rolls it over a bit, looking at the detail.

“So this figure and the note came along in the box with the DVDs?” He asked as he set the figure down as he grabbed the note. You blush and remember that wasn’t the only thing in the box. You almost had forgotten the figure of the living breathing man in front of you. You ask him to give you a second and hurry back to your room. Searching the room, you almost give up on finding the figure, until you spot it halfway under the bed. You bend over and grab the figure and examine it. It’s still the same figure, but less detailed now. It actually looks like how one of the box set figures is. Cheaply made and having a missing paint splotch here and there. It still was a good-looking figure though, just not as best made. You start your very slow pace back to the living room, taking a small bit of time to think about something. The Sonic figure was still the same as it was before the doctor arrived, why did the doctor change-. You stop mid-way in your hallway to finally piece a big puzzle together. The figure of the doctor was some type of catalyst for his arrival. Like a gateway to get here. ‘And now that the figure is back to normal, does that mean that the Sonic one-’ You didn’t finish that thought as you hurry back to the living room, the doctor just putting the not back onto the counter. He looks up as grabs the DVD player and sets it onto his lap. He smiles as you enter the room.

“ Hey, you ok?” He asks you as you sit back down next to him, gently grab the Sonic figure, cradling it with some care.

“I’m ok,” You answer with some melancholy in your voice. “It’s just that I’ve been thinking of something that just came to me.” You look over to him, Doc staring back, patiently waiting for you to continue. You take a breath and look him in the eyes. “The box set also came with a figure of you as well.” You explain as you gave him the small toy, his face going into a slight pout over the quality as he looks it over.

“I’m much more handsome than this.” He sulks over the craftsmanship of his figure compared to the one in your hand. You pat him on the back with your free hand, feeling him tense for a sec and then relax. You giggle at the line, remembering it from the 30th-anniversary comic. Your mood lightening up a bit at his reaction. “It was actually just as well made before you appeared in my room.” You explained as you rub your thumber gingerly over Sonic’s quills. Your mood dampens a bit. “I’m really thinking that the figure was the way-”

And a giant flash of white engulfed both of your eyesight. You scream as you feel a sense of weightlessness as you clutch the figure closer to you. Opening your eyes after that flashbang of light, as see that you’re in. You blink and take a look around. You try and gain a scene of where you were as you feel like you were falling down. You see Eggman trying his best not to scream as he is also in the same predicament as you. You look at this ‘tube’ as you decided to call it and take a look a the warping walls. They move with colors that remind you of the goop In Super Mario Sunshine. The colors of yellow, magenta, and white mixing together and making the whole experience feel like a trippy dip around a pipe. The tube had some slight aura to it as it was some type of fuzzy feeling in the back of your spine, not good but not unpleasant either. You look down past your now slightly screaming partner in crime to see a large warp ring that looked something right of the Sonic movie, looking to land right over some type of woods. You realized from the rate your accelerating from and the height from the ring to the ground would lead to more than a few broken bones.

Holding your breath and snaping your eyes closed as you wait for the pain to hit, the now cool air of the new land you arrived on pools into your skin as you want to feel at least a bit of joy knowing that right at the end, you feel cool. You never did feel the ground but instead a pair of arms holding you and the sensation of rocketing back up. Opening your eyes, you see Doc holding you again, having been lifted from the ground by two sleek black jetpack type of wings protruding from the back of his jacket. He looks down at you with a smirk and chuckles a bit.

“We have got to stop doing this.” He’s sarcastic, and the potential way of flirting, way of teasing sends you a bit more than tomato red in the face as you wonder if it’s the altitude of the comment that making it hard to think right at the moment. You almost didn’t hear him as he starts to talk.

“It looks like we’re flying over Seaside Island Jungle.” He starts to explain. “I’m going to fly us back to my lair and we can figure out from there what’s going on.” You look over his shoulder for a brief second to see the portal closing and finally dusting away with a puff of gold sparks. Looking back and see a breathtaking view, seeing the full grand scale of the island from up in the clouds. You can even start making out at sever locations from both seasons. You only think of what’s going to happen next when you see golden sparks emulate from your closed hands and feel a heavyweight in your arms and Doc quickly getting down to the ground, getting to be just at the end of ‘Nameless village’ as your reflexes grab on tightly to what you were holding onto. You both look down and see a very unconscious Sonic the Hedgehog in our arms. You look him over and inspect the teenager and see that he’s breathing, and in an ok shape. You look back at Doc and even he’s surprised by this addition to the group.

“Is he ok?”You question him as he gives Sonic a once over. You getting used to finally landing on the ground, stretching your legs after that small adventure.

‘He’ll be fine after some rest, but he looks exhausted.” Eggman questions as you scoop Sonic back up into your arms, being careful of his quills, making sure you don’t end up looking like a human banana peel. You look over at Doc and he looks like he’s, and you have to look a bit more closely at his expression because he looks, jealous? You ponder on that thought that the man might be jealous of the unconscious blue blur as the both of you set off into town, wondering where to go from here.

“Hey!” You hear a cry from in front of the, three? of you. You look up and see four multi-colored anthropomorphic animals. “What did the two of you do to Sonic?” Cried the two-tailed Kitsune. You see all three, with the exception of Amy, who at this point is trying to stop the trio, of Sonic’s friends close in around you. You give a panicked look to Doc as it dawned on you that Doc and yourself were about to be attacked by Tails, Knuckles, and Sticks.

Shit.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Group Project.”

Alright everyone, still working on the lecture series, but I also wanted to get some ideas.

What parts of my worldbuilding do you want me to continue with?

What do you want to know more about?”

What story lines do you think I have left unfinished?

And are there any parts of the timeline you want to hear more about? (I was thinking about doing a story on how Adam was even given a ship in the first place) things like that.

I would find your feedback very helpful if you could :) at the very least it will help me get through my writing slump.

Almost six months.

Six months od doctor Krill’s lecture series and they still felt as if they didn’t understand humans anymore than they had when they first started. Despite months and months of research, and papers, none of them had managed to get a grade on an assignment that was higher than a C -- Dr. krill was using what he called the human letter grading system to give them some more experiences that would help them bond with humans, and boy were they bonding with the humans who just couldn’t seem to get it right.

It wasn’t that Dr. krill was an unfair teacher, it was just that most of them always managed to be wrong in some massive and obvious way about humans. For example, when writing a paper about how humans cannot see in the dark and would be likely not to survive on a dark planet, but then potentially forgetting about all the humans who survived being completely blind Everything you could say about humans was generally untrue for another human.

Humans have an extreme sense of survival however they seem prone on tossing  themselves from high places just for the fun of it. 

Humans were both the most survival oriented and the most danger prone species in the entire universe, and that let to some very strange stories that often seemed as if they couldn’t possibly be true, but often turned out to be true anyway.

Either way, the class had been both difficult and exciting, and now they were approaching the end of the semester, and Dr. Krill had promised them something very special to go along with their group project.

They all waited nervously in their predetermined groups watching as Dr. Krill stepped into the room.

He said something to his TA and then turned to his projector to fiddle around for a moment. 

When the lights blinked overhead this time. 

Dr. krill trend to look at the class, “Understanding that we are approaching our last few weeks of class, I have decided to do something a bit special for all of you. To prepare you for the real world of working with humans. I understand that all of you have been working hard despite your abysmal grades, and have decided to do something that human schools do when just such a thing occurs….. Grading on a curve. I certainly didn’t expect any of you to understand humans any better after all of this was over, so this week, I am going to give your real opportunities for some real learning.”

He looked around the room rather smug, “First of all, I want to introduce you to a REAL life earth predator.”

Somehow, in some way, Krill made a sharp whistling noise, and out of the darkness of one of the entrances, their came the soft thudding of footsteps…. Four of them to be precise.

When the furry animal raced into the room the entire class went into a state of panic. Aliens leaped up on their desks and screamed. Vrul inflated and began floating towards the ceiling, all was chaos as the large fuzzy creature raced around the perimeter of the room and then straight towards Dr. krill himself.

More screaming.

“Waffles Sit!” The animal skidded to a stop, and then sat with a soft thump on the floor.

The classroom grew very still as Dr. Krill began to pat the predator’s head.

A pink tongue lolled from it’s mouth past massive white K-9 teeth. Its huge ears swiveled back and forth.

The class slowly began to relax back in their seats as Krill continued to pat the dog, rubbing the fur under its chin so that it raised its head and grumbled deep in it’s throat. Its tail slapped repeatedly against the ground.

“Everyone, I would like to introduce you to one of the staples of a human pack….. A dog.” He continued to pat the animal, as she slid to the ground beside him tail still thumping loudly against the ground, “Waffles was trained by humans for humans, and has the ability to both detect and prevent psychological crisis. As you all know humans are rather prone to mental dysfunction, but this dog is one of the first line defences put in place for a specific human.”

The dog leaned up, and with her long pink tongue, she liked the doctor on the arm.

The class cringed back.

“If you ever want to work with humans, it is likely you will have to work with dogs as well. Any dog that is going to be aboard a human ship will have been vetted for work with other alien races. They will be friendly, and they will calm. Waffles has been around humans her entire life, and around aliens for over two years which is a little less than half of her life.”

He turned to look at the room, “I will give a hundred points of Extra credit to anyone who is brave enough to come down here and pet her.”

There was silence in the room.

No one moved an inch.

Off in the corner a Tesraki shifted nervously in his seat.

He had the lowest grade in the class and he knew it, but a hundred point os extra credit would bring him solidly up a letter grade or two…. but …. It’s teeth were so big, and it probably weighed as much as he did.

It was the look that Dr. Krill gave him that finally urged him onward. Dr. Krill knew, and was, surprisingly, trying to help him.

Knees shaking and hands about to tremble off the end of his wrists, the Tesraki stood, and made his slow way across the room. His ears were plastered flat against his head and his hands only shook worse. The dog grew larger and larger in his vision until she was sitting right before him. Even sitting down she was only a foot and a half shorter than he was, and the panic he was feeling was unbelievable.

He looked into her eyes, and she shifted forward on her paws, snout pushing towards him. He backed away and the entire class gasped. She rocked back on her feet and gently lowered herself to the ground, looking up at him with wide brown eyes.

When he didn’t move she slowly rolled until she had flipped over on her back, looking up at him with her head tilted

A tooth poked out from under her lip, and her tail beat against the ground.

“Look at that!” krill exclaimed, “That’s a submissive pose she would use on a human, she wants you to rub her chest and belly, go on, she’s giving your permission.”

Heart hammering in his ears, he leaned down, and with trembling fingers patted the coarse fur on her belly. She made a grumbling noise and he leaped back, but Dr. Krill encouraged him on saying that it was a good thing, and so he continued. The animal kicked her leg a couple of times and the Tesraki felt his entire body tingle with exhilaration.

He was…. He was petting a dangerous earth animal, just like the humans would!

Eventually he was dismissed back to his seat, and the dog rolled over onto her stomach, resting her head on her paws, which she began to lick absently, large ears still perked.

Dr Krill turned to look at them, “But of course this class it primarily about humans, is it not, and I strongly believe that there is really only one way to teach someone how to interact with humans properly….” he looked around at all of them, “And that, is by experience.”

The class shifted in their seats with exclamations of surprise, and from down one of the hallways they heard a sharp repeated thudding. The beat was so regular and rhythmic it managed to make many of the Vrul students dizzy and confused, nearly lolling out of their seats.

Dr Krill stood firm two hands on hips, two hands crossed over his chest.

And that is when the column of humans marched into the room in perfect time with each other, their botos hitting the floor such that the seats about them seemed to rattle. The vrul could barely keep in their seats and the other students leaned forward in awe.

Most of the humans wore strange clothing in a black and greyblue pattern all over their bodies, while the human at the front wore light grey and a strange adornment atop his head. The front of his chest glittered with small colorful ribbons and little glittering symbols though no one could have been sure what they meant.

The line of humans drew to the front of the room and then stopped.

“LEFT FACE!”

The group turned in unison with the sharp rattling of boots on the floor.”

“ATTENTION!” Their bodies snapped into position, hands raised to their temples as they looked forward perfectly still.” “AT EASE.”

The group of humans, together, fell back into a posture of relative relaxation. Feet spread, hands clasped gently behind their backs, and there they stood as Doctor Krill moved to stand next to them, “Well class, it is my pleasure to introduce you to the Omen’s Alpha team. These marines have trained for years in ground combat for most of their careers. IF there is ever a problem on your planet, this is likely who the humans will send as reinforcements.”

He turned to the last human, the one with the shiny uniform, “And it is my pleasure to introduce our ship’s admiral, who graciously agreed to come and bring his men today. I think you will recognize him from your textbooks.”

When the human removed his hat and turned to face them, there was a shocked muttering. They knew him from their textbooks, as HE was the very template for the classic anatomical diagram that adorned many of the pages in their textbooks.

It was essentially his system that they were examining whenever they discussed the systems of the human body.

“A couple of things I would like you all to note here, and those are the highly social structure in which humans operate. This structure includes a strict hierarchy that humans take pains to make known. The Single Star on the Admiral’s shoulder marks him as the highest ranking human in this room. He outranks me, these other humans and all of you as civilians. In the human world, he is to be listened to, and his orders to be obeyed. In certain cases humans will overlook the intelligence of what someone is saying, if they are of a higher rank in worry of social repercussion.”

He turned to walk towards the marines still standing in their straight line, “They rank in order from this symbol down to this symbol and each of them has an important task to preform. In the early days of our meeting humans, this strict social hierarchy was enough to make some assume that humans were in possession of some sort of hive mind. However, this is clearly not the case. Humans do not have a hive mind, but they do possess a social structure so rigid in some cases that it may seem like it. I would also like to note the diversity in human appearance. The only other species that we have seen with even remotely comparable diversity in facial, tonal, and physical structure are either the Drev, or the Tesraki.”

He turned to look at the groups and his antenna buzzed with amusement, “Now, in your groups, I want you all to pick one of the marines to come join you, and then for the rest of the class, I would like you to come up with a principal about humans to demonstrate at the end of the lecture.” he pointed to one of the first groups, “pick a human.”

There was some slight shuffling and discussion as they tried to determine which human would be best. In the end they went for the smallest human hoping beyond hope that they would be the least aggressive.

It was a real pity that they didn’t understand the rule about short humans, and maverick, in an attempt to get to her group, ignored all the rules of decorum and simply stepped up onto the desks clambering over with great dexterity until she plopped herself down in a seat in the middle of the group turning to look at them, “Yo.” She said, rather un ironically as they stared at each other in shock.

The other humans were quickly divided out and went to sit with their groups mostly enjoying being the center of attention.

There was one less marine than they needed, so the highest ranking human handed his hat to the dog sitting on the floor and walked over to slide into a seat with them, showing his teeth in a gesture that was supposed to be friendly.

All around the room chattering steadily grew as the aliens began asking the humans quick fire questions which some of the marines found hard to keep up with.

When asked a question Ramirez simply shook his head, “You know what you guys probably know way more about humans that me. I’m not a doctor, or anything else. I am a marine, I know how to do like four things effectively, I call them the four Fs, Fight, Fun, Food, and er well you get the picture.”

Maverick was having a very amusing time explaining teeth to the aliens, albeit rather inaccurately considering that teeth weren’t actually bone but a mixture of enamel covered dentine, but Krill let it go on for the factor of amusement.”

The nervous members of the admiral’s group had already been lulled into a sense of ease at the man’s friendly and relaxing demeanor, and he was attempting to do his best at explaining a question given to him by one of the aliens, and was doing a better job than the marines at taking their questions seriously.

“Well you see, when it comes to humans you are always going to be relatively safe. Over the past thousands of years, access to soft cooked foods have caused our jaws to grow relatively small and weak leaving little room for our teeth. So most humans don’t like food that is difficult to eat. We aren’t impressive enough predators that we can just strip flesh from bone. Plus thats a great way to catch diseases, furthermore, our diets and the way we eat really had to change as our vocal cords moved further up in our throats. Sure this gave us the ability to speak and mimic almost any alien language known, but it also made us very prone to choking on our own food.”

He sighed, “I remember this one time when I was five and I choked on a hard candy, scariest moment of my life probably, or at least in the top ten. If you don’t know what choking is, its when something gets stuck in your airway blocking your ability to breath and you die from oxygen loss, I know a horrible way to die.”

The conversations continued all around the room until there was only twenty minutes left in class, and he called a stop so that the groups could demonstrate a human principle that they had learned.

The first group brought Maverick up and one of the other students presented her with a rock No one was really sure why he had the rock, but the fact that it had big eyeballs drawn on it was enough for her to happily accept the gift and declare its name to be “The Boulder.” The class was surprised to find that it took such little effort for a human to pack bond with something, but the fact that she held the rock in two hands and occasionally stroked a finger down it was clear enough evidence that it was true.

The other students demonstrated a human’s depth perception by throwing an object and watching as Ramirez leaped out over the desks, hands stretched out to catch the object mid fly before landing back on the ground. The precision that it required to do that left the class very very impressed.

Someone else had a human try to identify what something was based on it’s smell, and he accurately guessed the difference between Vrull Texraki and Runid just based on their smell. They even brought in one of the other humans to which the test subject exclaimed,  “Don’t tell me it’s Ramirez and his bitch ass. I would know those fumes anywhere.”

One of the humans managed to demonstrate a very impressive climbing ability, and another one of the marines was pleased to demonstrate a human’s advanced vestibular sense by doing a backflip off of one of the desks. He tried to do it twice, but tripped upon anding and ended up on his back much to the amusement of the other humans.

That was also a good demonstration of the human’s empathy reflex as the humans winced and were silent for a moment before they began their ridicule.

If they remembered correctly, humans used teasing and humor as social bonding. They would never have made fun of their friend if he had actually been hurt, but the fact that he wasn’t made it clearly acceptable to joke as it let the other humans know that everything was ok.

The last group caught the admiral off guard by saying the word yawn and causing a chain reaction that made its way all around the room until it terminated with the dog, who also yawned, much to the surprise of the students.

Krill watched all of this with interest, keeping an eye on his more motivated students, and the ones who got along best with the humans. He was still trying to get permission from his superiors, but taking a few house students with them on the omen and back to earth would be a great PR move and also a good way to get some of his more invested students an experience that they could really take with them into their careers.

If one thing WAS  clear by the end of the lecture.

It was that Maverick was not going to give up her pet rock any time soon. 

[pleathewrites]

boys, boys, boys

chapter 2: revelations

Summary: Does Iwaizumi have a thing for setters or do setters have a thing for Iwaizumi?

“Maybe Iwa-kun does have a thing for grey hair,” Sugawara muses, the tip of his index finger circling the rim of his drink. He’s got that signature sly smirk across the very lips that locked with Hajime's a decade ago. 

“Oh my God.” 

Hajime is seriously considering begging Oikawa to jump-serve a volleyball to his head and knock him clean out just so they can all stop having this conversation - ‘Hell, Tooru’s strong as hell now. Might knock the entire memory of this night right out of my brain, for good.’ 

“Hey, I just made out with him - and possibly gave him his gay awakening. But I wasn’t the one who convinced him to change his career.”

“Oh my God.”

“Wait, what are you - ”

“Daichi, baby, seriously, you need to go see that doctor. I am actively concerned about you developing early-onset Alzheimer's," Sugawara says, tucking a strand of Sawamura's hair behind his ear, his impish smirk melting into a fond smile, "Does Shiratorizawa ring any bells?”

“Hey, I have my own life to worry about! I’m not gonna keep track of someone else’s love life - no offense, Iwaizumi-san.”

“Hey, non-taken. Please, never think about my love life.”

Much to Hajime’s horror, Daichi’s expression turns contemplative, “Wait, actually, though -”

“Fuck -”

“… Grey hair, Shiratorizawa...” Daichi snaps his fingers and points his index at Iwaizumi with a much-too-proud smile on his face, completely unaware of the man’s rising irritation. “Yes, right! Iwaizumi, didn’t you..?” 

“Ugh, God, that one,” injects Oikawa. 

Hajime feels the vein on his forehead throb at Oikawa’s tone, “Kawa... why are you so shitty.” 

“Well, sorry, if I don’t like the edge-lord that busted my entire future!” 

“Oikawa… You are literally at the Olympics… for the second time...” 

“Yeah, with you on the opposing side,” Oikawa says with a closed throat, sliding out of the booth, and heading off to the direction of the entrance doors.

Hajime sighs.

 *

 Their loss to Shiratorizawa is soul-crushing - it always is. 

‘Always’ - that’s the most crushing thing, Hajime despairs, ‘We always lose to that school.’ And Hajime feels the blow, of course, he's devastated, but it’s not personal, hell, it’s not even for his team - ‘God, I’m such a shitty Vice-Captain.’  

No, the absolute heartbreak he feels is for Tooru.

Hajime loves his team, he believes every single member has outrageous talent, but he knows that all their abilities combined, including his own, wouldn’t even hold a candle to Oikawa’s blinding torch.

Shiratorizawa is a school for rising champions, Abo Johsai is a school for kids with talent.  

Oikawa Tooru is on a completely different level, it's a fact - he outranks his own team. It keeps Hajime up at night because he knows that if Oikawa had a team that matched his talent and ability, he would never have to experience such consistent defeat. 

In times like these, Hajime feels shameful and useless, ‘How long will I hold Oikawa back?’

Hajime knows Oikawa. He knows he’s the real reason Oikawa chose Abo Josai, that because Hajime wasn’t good enough to get into Shiratorizawa, Oikawa shackled himself to a team that weighs more than he can carry. It reminds Hajime of those free-body-diagrams from physics class that Oikawa had to explain to him ten times over; Oikawa is the upward force, striving for victory at the speed of light, Hajime is the opposing frictional force, and Abo Johsai is plain gravity times mass times sine (or was it cosine?). Hajime only managed to scrape a B- in that class, so the only answer he can give this problem is that Oikawa isn't going anywhere, any time soon. 

A harsh slap to his back snaps Hajime out of his thoughts. He jumps with the force of it and doesn’t even have to turn his head to know who’s hand is laying firmly between his shoulder blades. He keeps his eyes downcast, but Oikawa - a true Captain - doesn’t force Hajime to look at him when he firmly whispers, “Next time, Iwa-chan. We’ll get ‘em.”

Their coach takes the team for ramen, gives them a speech about being proud and working hard, all while Oikawa is making faces at Hajime from across the table and, slowly, Hajime begins to let himself smile.

Halfway through dinner, Hajime feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Thinking it’s his mother asking when he’ll be home, Hajime turns on the lockscreen and sees it’s an Instagram notification. He unlocks his phone and swipes down his Notifications - Hajime had to reset his phone notifications to conceal messages ever since becoming friends with Sugawara Koushi because the boy has zero filter and he doesn’t need his mom accidentally seeing messages with eggplant and squirting emojis, encouraging Hajime to make ‘his move’, whatever that means. 

EITA (@notsemisemi) has requested to follow you.

Now, Hajime is confused. He doesn’t even remember the last time he posted a picture on Instagram - he only really made the account because Oikawa started crying about, “Iwa-chan, I want to tag you in this picture, people should know that you’re capable of smiling! Everyone else has an Instagram, let me make you one, you won’t even have to do anything!” - so he’s not really sure how or why a random person requested to follow him.

'Maybe it's a spam account?'

He looks closely at the username and tries to think if he knows anyone with that name. When nothing comes to mind, he clicks on the person’s account and is met with very aesthetically angsty selfies of a grey-haired boy with sharp eyebrows and deep collarbones. ‘

He’s kind of…’ Hajime tries to think of the right words. He wants to say ‘pretty’, but that doesn’t feel right - Sugawara is pretty, Oikawa is pretty. Pretty people are soft and round and peppy. This guy is… 

‘Hot.’ 

And weirdly familiar. 

He elbows Matsukawa, who’s sitting on his right, and turns his phone screen towards the boy, “Do you know this guy?”

“Hmph?” Matsukawa’s lazy eyes roam over his screen and he swallows his food before speaking, “Yeah, isn’t that the reserve setter? He came in as a sub when Oikawa hit Shiratorizawa’s main setter.” 

Like a self-conscious self-absorbed bat, whenever Oikawa’s name is merely uttered, the boy in question will hear it, no matter what he's doing, “Eh? Oikawa hit who? I swear, it couldn't have been me, I’m a pacifist!” And he proceeds to put his hands up in surrender. 

The lightbulb goes off in Hajime's head, “Oh! When Oikawa jump-served the ball at that small guy’s face? With the uneven bangs?” He makes a downward sloping motion across his forehead. 

“Yeah, that one,” Matsukawa points to the phone screen, “Pretty sure that’s the guy who subbed for the rest of the set.” 

“Yeah…” Hajime trails, before adding softly, “He was good… Wonder why their coach didn't give him more playtime.”

Oikawa’s quick-clapping hands bring Hajime out of his thoughts, “Oh! I know what we’re talking about now! First off, I didn’t hit Shorty, he wasn’t fast enough, that’s the consequence of the game! Also, why are we talking about this?”

“Iwaizumi is on the sub’s Instagram page.”

Oikawa squeaks, “Is this about your grey-hair-slash-old-man fetish?!”

Hajime groans and facepalms, “No, oh my God, stop telling people I have a fetish, Shittykawa! He followed me.”

“Block him!” 

Hajime sighs, locks his phone, and puts it away, “Just forget it.”

“Hmph. That guy’s not even first string. What does he want with our ace?”

Hanamaki joins in, “I wonder why he’s not first string, though. I’m pretty sure he’s a third year, he’s been there every time we played against them. 'M pretty sure that Shorty is definitely a second year.”

Oikawa’s face turns from snooty to serious and he crosses his arms, “He’s good, but he lacks instinct. His technique is fine, but he doesn’t have what Shorty does. Maybe if he worked harder, but from the looks of it tonight, he doesn’t want it bad enough. He’s not on Shiratorizawa’s level - maybe he was once, but not anymore.”

'Not on Shiratorizawa’s level… Sounds like we might have something in common, after all.’

That night, before Hajime goes to sleep, he accepts EITA’s follow request and follows him back.

continue to read chapter

[iwritefandomimagines]

ELEVENTH DOCTOR x READER: “Things change.”

prompt #17 -- requested

masterlist

pairing: eleventh doctor x reader

description: when the doctor gets his timings wrong again, he finds a heartbroken you in your living room, years after he last left you at home. 

warnings: mega angsty. oops !

words: 1,600

Initially, you believed that whenever you next heard the sound of the TARDIS landing, you’d be ecstatic.

You’d expected to go running into the Doctor’s arms, swept away on some adventure or another that you’d remember forever. You pictured yourself content and excited and happy.

But that was then, and time had passed.

The last time the Doctor had dropped you off had been three years ago now. The man you loved had dropped you off to take Amy and Rory away somewhere ‘just for them’ for a day... But three years had gone by with no sign of them returning.

You’d spent at least the first six months locked away in your room, wallowing and crying in fear that he didn’t want to see you again.

But now that so much time had passed, you’d become too furious with the Doctor to want to see him again either. How could he just leave you here, forgetting about you entirely?

He’d told you he loved you -- had that truly meant nothing?

You were currently curled up on your sofa, a pot of ice cream in your hands and surrounded by a bundle of blankets. Your hair was unkempt, your loungewear the same you’d been wearing for a good few days now. Truth be told, you were in a mess.

Despite your infuriation, you’d never quite managed to fall out of love with the Doctor. That madman in the police box who’d whisked you away to places you’d never even imagined. He’d been your world, your safe place, and yet he’d been your breaking point too that moment he left you.

Right now you were reeling from yet another unsuccessful attempt at moving on. Another unsuccessful blind date, another failure to feel anything but apathy for any man who wasn’t the Doctor. Your Doctor. Why couldn’t you just move on?

And so when the TARDIS engine sounded, materialising right in front of you in your very living room, the fury coursing through your every vein was almost unbearable. Tugging your blankets tighter around your frame, you pretended to be unaware of the giant blue box blocking your view of another romantic comedy that only fuelled your sadness.

“Y/N!”

The sound of his voice sent chills rippling through your body, but you didn’t dare look up. It would be real then, you’d have to face the fact that he’d left you but all of a sudden was back.

“Oh Y/N! What’s the matter sweetheart?” he ambled towards you, pushing the blanket fortress you’d assembled out of his way. His head cocked to the side confusedly -- you’d changed. A lot. Had he gotten his timing wrong again?

The word sweetheart made butterflies flit in your stomach, but it was bittersweet to hear it again from his lips, and so all you could bring yourself to do was scoff.

His fingers reached up for a strand of your hair -- you’d dyed it in a feeble attempt to stop recognising yourself the way you did when you were with him -- twirling it around his finger as he tried desperately to make you meet his gaze.

“How long has it been?” his voice was barely above a whisper as he knew your answer couldn’t be good.

“Three years.”

Your words dripped with venom, your eyes harsh and your face set in a scowl as you finally made eye contact with him.

The Doctor felt his world shatter around him at that, the very fact that he’d let you down -- the most important person in his life and he’d let you down.

“Oh darling I’m so sorry,” he cooed, cupping your face in his palms and lowering his head to be closer to yours, “I promise that wasn’t ever my intention. It’s been a day... well, a week... but it was only because things got a bit hectic. I came straight back as soon as I could. You didn’t think I’d abandon you?”

You drew in a sharp breath, struggling to fathom the words to tell him just how you felt. Honestly, a small part of you was still ridiculously happy to see him again, especially knowing he’d never intended to leave you for so long. But he had, he had been gone so long, and you weren’t sure you could forgive that.

“Three years,” you repeated, as though trying to come to terms with it all over again yourself, “Three years without you, Doctor.”

He pulled you to his chest, almost knocking your ice cream from your hands as he did so with such urgency. He kissed the top of your head, your stomach doing flips as you felt so close to him again. But you were still fuming, and you couldn’t let it go.

“I’d never have left you alone for so long, Y/N. You know I’d never do that, surely.” he frowned.

“I thought I did,” you mumbled, before clearing your throat to speak more confidently. “I thought I knew. But it’s been three years, Doctor. Things change. I’ve changed. I’m not the naive girl you left in this room, struggling while you fawned over Rory and Amy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even after you told me you loved me, Rory and Amy always seemed to come first. I feared being second -- well third -- best and then you unintentionally made that clear anyway.”

“Y/N, I love you, you know that,” he soothed, hands caressing your hair as he held you close, “I’ve thought about you every minute I’ve been gone.”

You shook your head, “That’s the problem, Doctor. So have I.”

There was silence for a moment, both of you too consumed with sadness to say anything. He couldn’t stand the notion of quite how badly he’d hurt you, and you couldn’t stand that though you were still angry and upset, you were relieved to be in his arms again, held by the man you adored.

“I-- three years,” he uttered, more to himself, still shocked, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I know I’ll never be able to make up that time, but I want to try. I’ll never leave you behind again, darling. I can’t live without you.”

“I’ve had to learn to live without you, Doctor. I spent so long believing that it had been an accident but even now that I know that’s true it hurts. I love you, I’ll never be able to stop loving you, but I’m just-- this is so difficult.” you fought back tears.

The Doctor pressed a soft kiss to your temple, “I’ll never let anything like this happen again, Y/N. I promise. I’ll never let you out of my sight I’l--” 

You shook your head, pulling back a little to stare deeply into his eyes, mesmerised as always by their emerald twinkle, “I’ve tried so hard to forget you Doctor. And I never could. But I-- It’s made me realise that people spend their entire lives at your side and it’ll always mean more to us than it does to you.”

“That’s not true, Y/N. Not one person who I have travelled with has ever been unimportant to me, I’ve cared about every single one of them, always.” his voice was stern now, and you could tell you had hit a nerve, “And it’s different with you, Y/N. Everything is different with you. In hundreds of years I’ve never cared about anyone like I care about you. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.”

You gulped, “But that’s the point -- you’ve had hundreds of years to try, to explore and to find someone. I only get one short silly little human lifetime, Doctor. It terrifies me that I know I’ll never love anyone like I love you, you’re the love of my life. But I’ll be like a... like a blip in your timeline when I’m gone.”

“Never,” He clutched your balled fists, pulling them to his lips and kissing the backs of them gently, “Everyone has a lasting impression on me, everyone matters. But you... Y/N, you’re absolutely everything to me. You say I’m the love of your life like that doesn’t matter to me. You’re the love of my life, darling. Surely you understand that.”

His words weighed heavy on your shoulders as you tried to digest them, even heavier as you tried to understand them.

“The love of your life?”

“Of course. The love of my life.”

“Oh.”

He laughed, capturing your face in his palms and pulling you towards him to kiss you. His lips were soft and warm, just as you remembered them, and you couldn’t help but melt immediately into the kiss as you felt all of your anger dissipate.

That was the thing, no matter how much he’d unintentionally hurt you, everything felt okay with the Doctor. No matter what, the Doctor’s very presence had always been enough for you. You were just grateful to have him back.

“I love you, Doctor. Please don’t leave me behind again.” your voice cracked.

“Never, Y/N,” he kissed the corner of your lips again gently, “I love you too, more than you’ll ever know.”

You suddenly felt conscious of your current outfit, your loungewear and messy hair glaringly embarrassing to you despite the fact that the Doctor wasn’t remotely phased by it.

“I-- uh,” you began nervously, “I would say where shall we go but, well I look like this...” the Doctor furrowed his brows as you blushed, before rolling his eyes as you continued, “But I just want to spend time with you anyway. Movie night? Like old times?”

“Absolutely, sweetheart. Absolutely.”

-------

eeee i hope you enjoyed this! sorry if it wasn’t amazing, i lost track partway through and tried my hardest to finish it... let me know what you thought. now that i’m back, requests are back open and my (updated) prompt list is here if you’d like ideas. also, my masterlist is here if you’d like to take a look!

thanks for reading <3

[tothemeadow]

‘the doctor’ / Midoriya x Reader

Uwu, this is the first official post that hasn’t been imported from the other blog     ( ´ ω ` ) Also, this has been sitting around on my computer for the past two months, so enjoy these crumbs while I strive to finish up the semester!

warnings: NSFW, doctor/patient relationship, grinding, heavy petting, fascination for hybrids?, y’all fuck but I didn’t write the whole thing

words: 3,752

(a/n): hehehehehe add this to the list of taboo relationship works I’ve done

-

“The doctor will see you now.”

The secretary sitting behind the desk flashes you a smile as you pass by her. The two of you are already on a first name basis, considering that you have biweekly checkups. With a quirk like yours, it can be detrimental to your health if it goes unchecked for too long. You have enough meds in your system to possibly knock out a small child, but you’ve long since grown used to it.

Still, as you pass from the waiting room and into the hall leading to numerous checkup rooms, your palms feel impossibly clammy. Your previous doctor recently retired after spending so many years in the field, and now you were supposed to meet your new doctor. Granted, your previous one told you many great things about this new kid, about how he’ll take great care of you. You’re not too confident in the sudden change, but it can’t be helped. Unless you wanted to suffer horribly, you had to seek some type of help.

Shuffling to room number six, you silently close the door behind you and take a deep breath. Your intestines feel unusually tight, ache with an indescribable force. Despite your quirk being a relatively simple one – doggification, which essentially means you have the characteristics and properties of a dog – your body could never get quite a grasp on it. Despite looking entirely like a human, your telltale features are the ears and tail protruding from your body. Even now, you can tell your ears are flat against your head and your tail is tucked between your legs.

Gently, you sit on the table, the parchment paper crinkling under your weight. Wringing your hands, you will your breathing to ease, your mind to relax. It’s only the doctor’s office, nothing more, nothing less. You’ve been here practically all your life, so what gives? Oh, that’s right – a new doctor who you’ve never met before.

A few minutes pass; nothing happens besides the tick tock tick tock of the lone clock hanging from the wall, the slight hum from the lightbulbs. Your nerves feel raw, your heart frantic, your breathing irregular. You constantly remind yourself that you’re fine, you’re just nervous. You’re here for a reason, after all. If you want to continue living healthily, you need this treatment. There’s no point in chickening out now.

Just then, the door swings open; you jump in your place as you snap back to reality. Pulse quickening, you’re left wide-eyed as the doctor comes in. He’s nothing like you were expecting – instead of some elderly gentleman like your previous doctor, this new guy is young. He’s ridiculously cute, a mess of green curls piled on his head and a burst of freckles adorning his skin. For a doctor, he surprisingly has an athletic build, so you’re left wondering if he exercises regularly or played a sport in school. But oh, the way his scrubs cling to his meaty arms, stretch over his thick thighs. It’s almost ridiculous how baby-faced he is, especially compared to his Adonis-like body.

Without you knowing, your ears and tail stand to attention, curious about this newcomer.

The doctor flashes you a pearly smile as he reaches a hand towards you. “(y/n)? I’m Doctor Midoriya. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Doctor Midoriya.

Yeah, you like the sound of that. And the way your name rolls off your tongue? Perfection.

Hesitantly, you reach out a hand and grasp onto his for a handshake. His hand is large, fingers long and spindly, and his grip is strong. They’re actually pretty, dotted with freckles and striped with scars. Interesting, you muse, wondering just exactly what he did to get scars like that.

“So,” Doctor Midoriya starts, pulling away and planting himself on the stool stationed by the counter, “doggification, huh? You have a typical hybrid quirk, so it seems.” Pausing for a moment, he glances at his notes attached to his clipboard. “But, since you’re part Doberman pinscher, you suffer from dilated cardiomyopathy. The breed usually has problems regarding that, right?”

You nod in confirmation. “Yeah. Apparently, many owners don’t know their dogs have it until they collapse on the ground. I uh, I’ve been dealing with this my whole life, so….”

You really, really like the gentle expression Doctor Midoriya gives you. His cheeks look squishy despite his sharp jawline, lips a delicate shade of dusty rose… Shit, he’s beautiful yet he chose to become a doctor.

“Doctor Torino left his previous files, and I’ve been studying them before he retired,” he explains, drawing himself to a stand. “He was great, wasn’t he? I’m sorry if I don’t own up to your expectations.” Crossing over to the table, he unloops the stethoscope from around his neck and sticks the buds in his ears. “I need you to breathe in and out for me, nice and slow,” he tells you, pressing the cool metal to your chest.

You go through the usual routines, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Doctor Midoriya hums in which you assume is a good way; you can feel your skin heating up whenever large green eyes flick to your face, digging in right to your soul.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” he says, voice low. The deep rumble sets your nerves alight, your insides pulsing. Dare you say it, but you’re disappointed when he pulls away, looping the stethoscope back around his neck. He scribbles something onto his clipboard, his lips pursed in thought. You take the opportunity to study his side profile, the dainty curve of his nose, the angle of his jaw. How big is this guy, anyway? He’s huge for a doctor.

“I’m six-three, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he chirps, tossing down his pencil. He laughs at the startled expression playing on your face. “Sorry, sorry… A uh, a lot of people ask me that, you know? And I typically get a good read on what people are thinking, so… Yeah! Some people used to call me tree in med school! You know, because of the green hair and all…” Clearing his throat awkwardly, he walks back over to where you sit. “How have you been feeling since your last visit?”

Subconsciously rubbing at your chest, you send him a mere shrug. “I’ve been better, I’ve been worse. I’m just bummed Doctor Torino left on such short notice.”

“That makes two of us,” Doctor Midoriya admits, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “He’s such a great mentor and all, don’t get me wrong, but it sucks that his time is up.”

Cocking your head, your ears twitch with interest. “Mentor?”

At that, Doctor Midoriya’s face lights up. “Oh! Yeah! I had my internship with Doctor Torino, and he taught me so much!”

“Internship…? Really? I don’t remember seeing you around whenever I had appointments with him.”

“Nah, I don’t think so. I would’ve remembered seeing someone like you!” He giggles – giggles – at his own words, but then it quickly dies down as realization crosses his features. “Wait, wait!” he says frantically, waving his hands before him. “I didn’t mean to sound creepy or anything like that! It’s just that you don’t see hybrids very often, and you’re a dog, and I happen to really like dogs, and I-“ His yammering turns into an incoherent mumble, then, as he awkwardly wrings his hands together.

Heh. He’s pretty cute.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” you say, shooting his own words back at him. “You’re a newbie, right? You’re awfully young for a doctor.”

To your pleasant surprise, Doctor Midoriya blushes. Instinctively, he claps a hand over his mouth and looks away. Again, he clears his throat. “I graduated last year, actually. So yeah, I’m still new to this whole thing, but I want to help as much as I can!” Turning back to you, his flustered expression melts into a determined one. “And since you’re my first serious patient, you can rely on me. I promise to take real good care of you, mark my words.”

You smile. “I look forward to it, Doctor. I expect you to keep that promise.”

-

Three months. Three solid months.

Hypothetically, you should be thrilled being in Doctor Midoriya’s presence so often. Realistically, it’s pure torture.

How this guy doesn’t realize he’s easily the hottest person in the room is beyond you, plus his personality is downright adorable. It’s funny, really, how you’re the one with the dog quirk yet he’s the one who acts more like one. He gets excited over the simplest of things, and you were quick to realize that he’s a giant nerd. It’s clear that he’s got a brain in that skull of his – and, if you’re being entirely honest, it makes Doctor Midoriya that much more attractive.

His constant murmuring and chippering never fail to put a smile on your face. With every appointment you have with him, you purposefully bring up a topic he’s bound to show some interest in just to hear him talk. So yeah, you might be infatuated with your insanely hot doctor, but who can blame you? He’s kindhearted, smart, good-looking, has a good job…. Okay, and maybe he’s packing down south. It’s not your fault that his scrubs clung to his body that one time. You just happened to notice it.

You doubt he’s doing these kind of things on accident. Hell, Doctor Midoriya blatantly flirts with you, for crying out loud. Well, it’s actually more subtle than that, but the point still stands.

“(y/n)?” Doctor Midoriya calls out as he enters the room, the door sliding shut behind him. Warmth floods your chest as your tail sets off in a slow wag. He laughs at your reaction, that toothy smile of his forming on his face. Just like every other time he shows it, you fall a little bit deeper for him.

“Doctor Midoriya,” you greet. Your fingers dig into the table as you bite down on your bottom lip. He looks good, dark blue scrubs shaping his figure nicely. You, on the other hand, stick to a simple pair of gym shorts and t-shirt. It’s a hot day outside, after all.

As Doctor Midoriya scribbles something down on his handy clipboard, you slowly spread your legs further apart. It’s a slight bit, nothing more, but the movement seems to catch his attention. Setting down his pencil, you notice how his eyes linger on your bared thighs for a moment longer than what’s considered appropriate. Slipping the stethoscope from around his neck, he gets up from his stool and crosses to wear you sit.

“Any problems lately?” he asks, voice as professional as always. Sneaky bastard, trying to pretend like he wasn’t just staring at your thighs.

“Besides the weather, not really. The heat makes things a bit easier, though,” you tell him.

Doctor Midoriya hums. Pressing the end of the stethoscope to your chest, he tells you to breathe in and out, nice and deep. “I’m not hearing any abnormalities in your breathing,” he says simply, switching to your back instead. “Besides the DCM, you’re in wonderful health.”

“That’s a relief,” you mutter.

He continues to go through the regular routine of your biweekly checkup. Soon enough, he’s looking through a scope at your dog ears, checking for any signs of an incoming infection. Try as you might, but you enjoy the way he caresses your ear, leaning into his touch as your tail takes off wagging. Doctor Midoriya chuckles, indulging in your wants and giving your ears a proper scratch.

“You really are like a dog,” he points out, his tone lighthearted. “A cute little puppy.” And there he goes, blessing your ears with his giggle. As you glance at him, you see the pretty blush adorning his cheeks, the gleam of mirth in his large eyes.

Puppy.

For some ungodly reason, you really like the way it sounds coming from his mouth.

“You shouldn’t be referring to your patients with a pet name, Doctor,” you drawl.

The blush on his face darkens. In true fashion, he hastily looks away and awkwardly coughs into his fist. “My apologies,” he murmurs. “If… If it’s any consolation, your ears are really soft…”

A small smile pulls at the corners of your lips. “I’m only teasing,” you reassure.

He flinches.

Teasing.

“Besides, you said you really like dogs, right? I think puppy is cute.”

Doctor Midoriya looks back to you. “…Really?”

You nod. “I do.”

For a moment, neither one of you say anything. The look in Doctor Midoriya’s eyes is unreadable; whether that’s a good thing or not, you’re not entirely too sure. He’s usually easy to get a read on, but like this… It’s nearly impossible.

“Do you mind if we check your flexibility? It’s just touching your toes, nothing more. If your back is out, I’ll recommend some chiropractors.”

Okay, strange. You figure he wants to change the subject – you know, and do his job – so you do as he says, hopping down from the table and stepping away. As you bend over, your fingertips skimming the toes of your sneakers, large hands splay out on your back. You jolt from the contact, your breath catching in your throat. Their movements are calculated, feeling along your spine for any sort of abnormality. You can practically feel Doctor Midoriya’s eyes boring into you; the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck come a stand as you wait for him to do something, anything.

“Your spine feels fine,” he tells you. “You feel a bit tense, though. Do you bend over a lot?”

Excuse me?

You scoff. “I’m bending over right now, aren’t I?”

Doctor Midoriya makes some weird choking sound. “No, no, that’s not what I meant! I meant when you sit or something like that…!”

“I’m teasing, Doctor. Relax.” You wiggle underneath his touch. “Am I allowed to stand straight now?”

You can practically feel the tension radiating off him. “I… Not yet. I need to check one last thing, okay?” Again, he uses that low, husky pitch, the one that reverberates deep in his chest. This is only the second time you’re hearing it, but fuck does it make your insides squeeze and your breath hitch.

Before your mind can completely register it, Doctor Midoriya’s large hands are on your ass, kneading the ample flesh through your shorts. A slight groan slips from your mouth at the unexpected contact. Shit, his hands are even larger than you originally thought, his grip rough and demanding.

“Does it hurt?” he continues, his voice staying as it is, making your brain turn delirious.

“N-no,” you stutter. You immediately cuss yourself out internally. A sharp gasp breaks from your throat as one of his hands grips the base of your tail and gives it a slight tug.

“How about now?”

You wince as he does it again. “Yes, okay?” you seethe through clenched teeth. “Just don’t… Don’t tug on my tail like that.”

“So, your ears and tail are sensitive,” Doctor Midoriya mumbles to himself. “Interesting.”

“Doctor, what are you even going on about-“

At that very moment, those strong hands of his yank you backwards, your ass colliding with his pelvis. Heart leaping to your throat, you’re left scrambling for a shred of reality. Doctor Midoriya leans over you, his muscular chest pressing into your back. He’s so warm, and he oddly smells like mint, but it’s not like you’re going to complain anytime soon.

“This is such a bad idea,” he confesses into your ear, “but you’re just so cute, puppy. You like it when I call you that, right?”

“Doctor-“

“Tell me to stop,” he continues, a frantic edge to his voice now, “tell me I’m a disgusting pervert. I shouldn’t be doing this, but shit… I’ve been fantasizing about holding you this close.” Subconsciously, he rocks his hips into you, his engorged cock grinding into your ass.

Shit, shit, is this really happening? Your doctor has just fessed up to fantasizing about you, and, to be quite frank, you’re a bit too happy to hear that. It’s not like he’s the only one feeling this way; you’ve had your fair share of dreams over the months, most of them with him in between your legs in some fashion.

Straightening up, you reach back and grab him by the back of the neck, balancing yourself in his grip. A breathless noise fills your ear as you grind back against him, your nails scratching into his nape.

“O-oh,” he says, the sound delightfully raspy as it fills your ear.

“You aren’t the only one who’s been thinking of things,” you confess, your voice sounding equally as strained. Again, some unholy noise slips from his dusty lips, the grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly.

“Puppy… Don’t say things like that.”

You bark out a laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft, Doctor. Acting like you’re in charge one moment and then like a scared little bunny the next. A big boy like you should choose one and stick with it.”

Now you’ve done it. Like merely flicking a switch, Doctor Midoriya moans into your ear as he spins you around and stumbles backwards, ass landing on the examination table with you in tow. You squeak in surprise as he easily drags you into his lap, lifting you up as though you weighed next to nothing. The lustful haze in his eyes is evident, the blush adorning his face making his freckles pop.

“Shit,” you curse, eyelids fluttering as his cock rubs frantically against your ass. Again, another surprised noise escapes your mouth as he bounces you in his lap, his clothed erection grinding against your ass and sex. A sliver of tongue peeks from between his teeth, the gleam in his eyes nothing short of determination.

“This is so wrong,” Doctor Midoriya murmurs, his fingertips digging harshly into your ass. “But you like it, right? Right, puppy? You want me to fuck you, right? Right?”

Goddammit-

“Yes,” you grit, fingers clutching at his broad shoulders while your tail impatiently smacks against his thighs. “Come on, Doc, treat me like the good little puppy I am.”

You should’ve expected this, really. An almost animalistic whimper bursts from the back of his throat as he surges forward, shoving his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cherry lip balm and the lingering sweetness of a cough drop – it’s an odd mixture, but not one that you dislike. Months of built-up tension are finally breaking free from the dam, desperate movements and slurred words quickly taking over your mind. Doctor Midoriya is somewhat sloppy with his kisses, but the way he sucks on your tongue and grinds his cock into you is heavenly.

Fingers skimming over the swell of his pecs and the rigid lines of his abs, Doctor Midoriya shudders at your fluttering touch. You swallow his moan as your hands drift under the shirt of his scrubs, heated skin and a fine trail of hair greeting your fingertips.

Pulling away, Doctor Midoriya pants heavily as you continue to pet his lower abdomen, his cock twitching beneath you. “Wait, wait,” he breathes, hands inching around towards your front, “can we – Can we touch each other?”

“As long as you keep quiet,” you murmur, tongue flicking across your lower lip. “Don’t want the others to know that Doctor Midoriya is a bad boy, hmm?” At that, a high-pitched groan emits from his chest as you shove your hand under the band of his underwear, hand circling around the base of his cock.

“Fuck, puppy, that feels good…”

Quickly following your lead, he slips a hand into your undies; his strong fingers immediately seek out the sensitive spot of your sex, causing your back to arch into his touch. A low, drawn out curse seeps from your mouth as you feel your arousal starting to coat his fingers.

“I guess being a doctor has its benefits, huh?” Doctor Midoriya mutters, tone dropping into that husky pitch once more. Even more of your arousal practically gushes over his fingers, your insides tightening around nothing. Two can play at this game, dammit.

Soon, the two of you are heavily petting each other, wrists flicking and fingers digging into sensitive flesh perfectly. Both your ears and tail lay flat as you pant into his neck, your thighs beginning to quiver with want. Doctor Midoriya isn’t fairing any better, his cock weeping precum as he mumbles incoherently. Maybe it’s the enticing little pants breaking through his puffy lips, or maybe it’s the sinful schlick schlick of your hand around his fat cock, but fuck do you want him inside of you, fucking you stupid.

“Doctor,” you purr, pushing yourself up onto your knees. “Have I been a good puppy? Will you fuck me with your cock and make me yours?” You nearly smile as he twitches in your hand at your filthy words.

Feebly nodding, Doctor Midoriya reluctantly pulls his hands away from you, opting to yank down his bottoms and underwear so they’re stretched around his meaty thighs instead. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of his cock – darker than the rest of his skin and veiny like his hands, he’s just as big as you expected, maybe even bigger. Still, you hastily yank down your own offensive clothing and slip back onto his lap, hovering over his twitching cock.

Doctor Midoriya thickly swallows. “I’m… I’m clean. You don’t have to worry- Fuck, oh my god!” Slapping a hand over his mouth, he groans deeply as you sheathe yourself on him, eyes nearly rolling towards the back of your head at the stretch. Yeah, he’s definitely huge.

For a moment, you allow yourself to grow used to the feeling of him inside. This is really happening; all caution is being thrown to the wind, repercussions be damned. He’s finally in your grasp, and you don’t plan on letting him go any time soon. “You said you wanted to fuck me, Doctor,” you mutter into his ear, your hips beginning to swivel. “Do it like you mean it.”

Again, that determined expression crosses his features. “With a challenge like that, who I am to decline?” Adjusting his grip on your ass, he easily lifts you up and drops you back on his cock, eliciting a breathy moan to fall from your swollen lips. “Don’t worry, puppy – as your doctor, I’m going to take real good care of you…"

[janetbrown711]

My headcanons about Sir William the Good

This is like my Angelina II post, so be sure to check that one out too

Oh! And be sure to check out this fic, because it talks about a few of these situations ^^

As always, if you have any questions/requests about them, my ask box is always open :)

Buckle up, because I have a lot of thoughts

Early life: 

His mother died not long after he was born, so he has no memory of her

His father’s name was Alan, and he loved William dearly, and William loved him too

His best friend growing up was Heloise Nerz (more better known as Hello Nurse)

They ran around Acme Falls like little rascals and were mostly adored by the town

She was always a lot smarter than him though, so whenever they got into trouble she’d have to usually get them out of it, though William was always very apologetic and felt very guilty when he did something wrong

Despite what the townspeople whispered and joked about, William never had a crush on her and vice versa. They were both just really good friends

His father got sick of a mysterious illness when he was eight, and died in less than a year, and William missed him terribly

He wandered around Acme Falls for jobs, and while most folks were willing to give him work, he felt unfulfilled and tried to search for the perfect job

No less than a year of searching, a royal knight came into town looking for a squire, and William jumped at the opportunity

He was young for a squire (he wasn’t even 10 yet) but the good natured knight liked his spark and took him under his wing. 

It was hard for William to leave Acme, but he promised to write to the town when he could, and so he left. 

For the first few years he did more of chores than actual knight training- but William never complained. He looked up to the knight quite a lot, to the point where he was basically a second father figure

However, once he turned 12, the real training began, and it was intense.

William never really complained though, knowing what he had signed up for

He was best at sword fighting, though he was a terrible equestrian

When he was 15, he was taken to the royal palace for further knighthood training, and he met Angelina on his first day by making an utter fool of himself (tripping over a bucket of water)

To his surprise, this didn’t push Angelina away, and William fell in love instantly. 

Often, she’d watch him during his horseback riding lessons and would laugh when he screwed up and cheer for him when he succeeded, which made him work harder and harder for her. 

Sometimes they even rode together, which was fun (though she beat him every time, but William was a very good sport about it- which Angelina greatly appreciated)

However, their favorite activity to do was to stroll and plant in the garden. Often the two were busy with their lessons, but they’d try their darnedest to squeeze in the time together

The queen, Angelina the First, strongly disapproved of him, but since William hadn’t really done anything wrong, he couldn’t find good reason to send him away, so he remained at the castle. 

William knew how much Angelina hated the suitors and would always try to get the next day off to spend it with her to help her feel better

When he saw the bruise Salazar had left on Angelina he nearly cried out of empathy for her and her situation, and swore that he would never let anything like that happen to her ever again

(That was when Angelina realized she was in love with him too)

They began their secret relationship when he was 19 and she was 18. 

He proposed two years later, right before gaining his knighthood, and Angelina didn’t hesitate to say yes

William was prepared to stay engaged as long as it took, but luckily for them, Queen Angelina the First died a month after he proposed and they were married shortly thereafter. 

Yakko: 

William had always wanted to have children, as he was an only child and loved the idea of raising and having children, and when Angelina told him she was pregnant he was over the moon

However, he was a bit nervous when he realized that his father died when he was eight, and he had few memories of how he was raised, so he studied and read up on every parenting book he could find and studied like a madman before Yakko was born

William fell in love with Yakko instantly

He was really nervous to hold him though, as he was terrified he’d drop him (which was odd, because being a knight made him very strong)

However, he did relax and eventually he was able to hold him without being nervous, and it soon became his favorite thing

He loved to read bedtime stories to Yakko when Angelina was too exhausted to sing a lullaby, and Yakko seemed to really like them, especially as he got older

Angelina said he got his talkativeness from William, and William couldn’t help but agree, he did have a tendency to ramble (especially when he was nervous)

He wanted Yakko to learn how to horseback ride, but Angelina forced him to promise to wait until he was at least eight because of how dangerous it could be

However, she didn’t stop him from getting Yakko a wooden sword, and William proceeded to try and teach him to sword fight, though it clearly wasn’t his forte. Still, Yakko seemed to have fun, and liked to act out the bedtime stories of William’s knighthood to Angelina, who also seemed to find it adorable. 

Wakko:

William had been utterly delighted to find out that Angelina was pregnant again, loving the idea of a big happy family, which Angelina liked too, as she was also an only child

Yakko was curious about what being an older brother would be like, so this time both Yakko and William were studying to prepare themselves

When Wakko wasn’t born crying or breathing, William nearly had a heart attack and died right there

However, the doctor quickly fixed it, and he cried tears of relief and joy

William noticed Wakko had a lot of similar features to his own father, and so made his middle name Alan

It was really hard to get Angelina to let go of Wakko to let him get a chance to hold him (not that he blamed her in the slightest) so he had to wait until she fell asleep to hold him

Again, he fell in love instantly

He was really nervous whenever Wakko was out of his sight, but recognizing that someone had to be the sane one (as Angelina was having terrible separation anxiety) he stayed strong and reminded Angelina that they had done this before and that it was gonna be okay

Helping her helped him a lot, and soon enough their worries were down to a normal level

Wakko was a lot more energetic and wild than Yakko, which reminded William of himself when he was younger, running around Acme Falls. 

William often had to chase Wakko around countless halls of the castle because of how much he loved to run and toddle around

Wakko had less patience for William’s stories- often interrupting with questions or little comments, much to Yakko’s annoyance. William didn’t mind though, as that was when Wakko was the most talkative with him

Dot: 

Again, William was ecstatic upon hearing Angelina was pregnant again

However, his confidence and optimism wavered a bit when King Salazar started causing problems on purpose

He was determined to protect Angelina from him though, intent on keeping the promise he made as a teen

He was determined to not let Angelina worry herself to death though, remaining optimistic about having a little girl (hopefully) and how great it would be when they could all relax with the new baby after this Salazar nonsense ended

He often had to watch the boys as Angelina went to diplomatic meetings and so when he found out that he had actually gone into labor during one and continued to the end anyway he was both in awe and amazement at how strong Angelina was (though he also did have a fairly short lived freak out about how dumb of an idea that was)

When Dot was eventually born though, they were both so tired that they both cried, especially because of how cute she was

William had been in love with the idea of giving her Angelina’s name, and was happy she agreed to it, as he never thought of her name as her mother’s name

He did also like the name Dot (Lena’s suggestion), so he suggested that they call her that for short, and Angelina agreed. 

However, he did panic momentarily as he realized he had no idea how to raise a girl, until Angelina said “just raise her like any other kid- being a girl hardly makes a difference” and William realized he was being stupid, and relaxed.

Since she was born in the spring around the time all the flowers in the gardens went in bloom, William loved to dress her in flower patterned clothes and hair pieces. 

He loved dressing her up (perhaps even more than Angelina did)

He also helped Wakko with advice on what to do as a big brother, and watched him as he watched Dot, finding his curiosity and newfound tameness around her adorable and admirable. 

However, as tensions were rising and Angelina being too exhausted and busy to go to meeting, it soon became William’s job to attend the meetings. William decided it was a good idea to bring Yakko along to help prepare him for when he’d be king, but he realized his mistake when he noticed how nervous he looked as they started discussing war. William promised he wouldn’t let that happen though, which helped Yakko to relax. 

However, Salazar and his army invaded the castle that night, and William wished that he just had more time with his kids, having never wanted them to be orphans like he was, but unfortunately he had no say in the matter and he was killed

Misc. (bc that’s a depressing end)

Hello Nurse was the “best man” at his and Angelina’s wedding

He didn’t realize Lena was only a nickname special people got to call her until after they were married, and he said “it was his greatest honor” when she pointed it out. 

“William, we’re married” “You could’ve married anyone you wanted, but you let me call you Lena”

He’s just... a big ol’ softie. A big teddy bear. He loves cuddling, hugs, crying, and just- he’s impossible to hate

However, like a bear, he gets very protective of his family, and died honorably while trying to protect them

The knight who practically raised him died before Yakko was born, and William held a huge funeral in his honor

He nearly cried when Yakko told him that his favorite story was the story of how he and Angelina met

He taught Yakko how to read and do math, as well as how to sword fight (though it was a slow process since he was only 8 when he died and all)

He grew a mustache bc he thought it made him look more like a king

He loved to just sit and think about all of his and and Angelina’s traits that he could see in the boys (like his optimism in Wakko, Lena’s love of reading and learning in Yakko, etc.)

He loved his children and Angelina with everything he had in him

[butteraway]

when time runs out | ii

⋆ summary:  A young girl has fallen deeply ill with an unknown disease in her, so with all her free time spent in an empty hospital room, she spends it online playing video games. That's until she meets her cousins friends, one spiking her interest with his extremely vulgare language.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: small mentions of suicide (I’ll put a star ‘⋆’ on top and below the paragraph so you can skip over it if your uncomfortable, you won’t miss anything too important so dont worry!)

"Bro, honestly I still can't believe that you of all people made it into the elite, number one hero school in the country."

"Waahh, I'm telling you! I'm the real deal Y/N!"

"So, how's your summer been? School's gonna be starting soon, are you excited?" Denki could only smile and sigh as his character was finally killed off.

Said girl chuckled as she heard Denki's voice rise through her headphones as they continued killing zombies in front of them. She grimaced as a zombie attacked her from behind her character. Geez, I never get a break in this game.

"Well, to be honest, nothing big really happened besides me getting my acceptance letter from U.A. Just me training and hanging with the fam." He laid back in the comfort of his bed, headphones still on in order to hear his cousin.

"Aah, already training, hero boy? That's why you haven't been visiting me lately." Y/N pouted and crossed her arms as her TV screen turned black, returning her to the main page of the game.

"Man, we suck at this game!" Denki laughed out loud as he saw how long they lasted in the last round. Y/N smiled and let out a small giggle of her own as she placed down her controller.

"Yeah, how long have we had this game for? It still feels like it's our first time playing this." Denki cracked a smile, even though Y/N couldn't see him.

"Hey, sorry for not being able to come to the hospital. Getting ready for U.A. is no joke, haha." Denki rubbed the nape of his neck, eyebrows scrunching up with regret. 

"Nah nah, it's fine! I understand that you have things to do. You have big plans for the future." Y/N brushed a strand of her hair away from her face, looking down at the needles that were plunged into her arms. Her eyes were clouded with an emotion she often felt when talking with Denki. She always felt guilty whenever the feeling came around.

"Must be nice to be able to achieve your dreams." Jealousy. She hated the feeling she got every now and then, but you couldn't really blame her. She lost everything in only a couple of months. Silence passed between the two teenagers, Y/N finally realizing what she said.

"Uh s-sorry about that! I didn't mean to say that alou-" Y/N was cut off by Denki's soft voice.

"Y/N, it's... okay to feel like that. I don't understand what you have been going through, but I know that you shouldn't bring yourself down for something you can't control. You're such an amazing person and to be honest. . ." Denki paused as Y/N's eyes began to glaze over.

"I'm doing this for me and you. You always encouraged me to take any opportunity by, as you like to say, the neck. I-I wanna make you proud, y'know? I wanna make it feel like you're a part of this crazy world, even if you're not really here, walking with me through it all."

Y/N’s lips wobbled as she let out a watery laugh. She hunched over, small tears falling down her face. To someone else, this would've boosted their ego, but to Y/N, those words meant the world to her. No one had ever said that to her before. She felt like she had a purpose in this wretched life of hers. She sniffles were heard by Denki

"H-hey! It's okay, p-please don't cry!" Y/N heard shuffling coming from Denki as he reassured her to not cry.

"I mean it. I only wish you could be there though, it would be so much cooler!" Denki smiled, trying to lighten up the mood. Y/N's sniffles slowly quieted down as she let out a soft laugh that made his heart swell with joy. At least he can make her laugh.

"I'm s-sorry, but no one has ever told me t-that." Small hiccups came from the girl as she calmed down, taking deep breaths to slow her heart rate. Won't want doctors to come rushing in just to see her crying over something so small.

⋆

"I-I'm just really happy you said that." Denki's heart clenched at those words, his chin trembling every now and then. He knew that Y/N wasn't happy with where she was. She had even admitted that she had urges to rip out the needles and slowly lose her life from there. Denki spent the rest of that night talking to her after. To say he was concerned was an understatement. He was terrified when she told him.

⋆

"I think us being able to play games together is already enough!" They both laughed and talked for a couple of minutes before deciding to to hang up. 

"Y/N, I mean it when I say I want you to be happy, okay? I hope you feel better tomorrow. Buh-bye!" Y/N said her goodbye to Denki, hanging up and closing the laptop that sat on a movable table. 

Her smile slowly left her face, leaving her staring blankly at the pure white wall and mirror in front of her. When visitors were gone, her window would turn to a mirror so no one would disturb her. Y/N took a good look at herself and only sighed. Despite being as healthy as she could get, she looked a bit on the thin side, this complimenting her skin. Running a hand through her hair, she untangled the little knots that had formed there.

"Geez, what happened to you girl? You look like a zombie." Y/N looked at the zombie game and cringed.

"Literally."  Just then the door to her room opened and shut quickly, the air filter turning on when a female doctor entered. Y/N watched her carefully as she checked the IV that connected to her arm. The protective suit never made Y/N feel better about her condition.

"Are you alright, Ms. L/N?" The light, stern voice rang through her ears as she looked at the woman in front of her. Y/N gave the doctor a grin.

"Never been better."

It had been an hour since the doctors had turned the lights off, but Y/N didn't feel the slightest bit of exhaustion. She had been sitting in the pitch black room for the time being and was really debating on turning on the TV.

"Ahh, fudge it." Instinctively reaching out for the remote, she turned on the TV and winced as the bright light hit her.

Looking back to the screen, she chose the option of going online and waited for other players to join. While waiting, a new character popped up next to her and she could only smirk at their username. Tapping on her mic, she decided to make conversation with them to see if they also had a mic.

"Now, what to play. What to play..." Y/N had settled for playing OverWatch since she didn't feel like playing any story type games. No cliffhangers tonight, Y/N thought. As the game loaded, she laid back and began thinking about cheesecake. When was the last I ate strawberry cheesecake? Great, now I want some. Thinking about eating cheesecake made her excited about the next day.

"Well hello, dear ol' '​​​​​King Explosion Murder_1.' Nice name you got there." Y/N chuckled as she said the name out loud, seeing another player enter.

"Hello 'Tape Dispenser?' What's with the wack name?" The girl’s eyes crinkled as she smiled at their name, hearing the user chuckle through her headphones. '​​​​​​King Explosion Murder' still had yet to reply, but that didn't bother her. They're either using the bathroom or don't have a mic. 

"The name was inspired by my quirk. But what's up with '_DeathGirl_', huh? You good?"  Y/N could only laugh at what he said. She should really send him a friend request.

"I’m honestly great, a little tired, but great! I just gotta make up a name, y'know? But your quirk has to do with tape? I don't know if that's wicked or useless." The boy laughed while Y/N laughed as well, losing her grip on her controller. That was until a gruff voice interrupted their laughing session.

"Shut the fuck up, your annoying ass voices are giving me a damn headache." Finally, after being silent, 'King Explosion Murder_1' spoke up.

"Aah, so you do talk. I don't know why you didn't say anything sooner Mr. Explosion Murder." The other player could only sneer at what she said, hitting his desk with his fist. Another player had joined, Y/N only noticing.

"Ah, hello 'Sleep Deprived Controller!'" Said player made their character wave, making Y/N chuckle. While they had their interaction, 'King Explosion Murder' was shouting at her, now realizing that she wasn't paying attention to what he was saying.

"Hey! Listen to me when I'm fucking talking to you, emo bitch!" Y/N’s eyes widened, soon rolling her eyes, watching the game load as they were placed into a match. What's his damn problem?

"Hey man, no need to go calling people names now." 'Tape Dispenser' nervously chuckled as he heard the other player growl. Y/N sported a shocked face as she heard this. What is he, a dog??? 

"Outta this conversation, extra!" Tape dude could only deadpan at what he was just called. Who calls people extras?? I’m not an extra, in fact I think I’m- 'Sleep Deprived Controller' listened with an annoyed expression on their face, wishing they could shut their shouting teammate up. Damn, wish I actually had a mic.

The game began as all the players separated, going their own way to kill their enemies. Everyone was in the zone, getting items and yelping every now and then if they were attacked. The first to go down was 'Tape Dispenser', then 'Sleep Deprived Controller', leaving both Y/N and 'King Explosion Murder' left on their team. Y/N smirked at their winning team, only one player was left on the other team. Just as the game was going to end, the opposing player shot down 'Explosion Murder', killing him.

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUU-" His mic cut off, causing the two players with mics in a cackling mess. Y/N calmed down, remembering she was still playing, trying to hunt down the last player. Finally, after many curses by a certain player and cheering from another, she located her enemy. 

"You better fucking win this or I'll kill you." Knowing he didn't mean that last part, she only focused on the first part. You better win this. Those words echoed through her head as she stopped aiming for the player. She hated being told what to do.

"Ah, so you're one of those people." Not knowing what she meant, they only watched with wide eyes at what she did. Y/N jumped down next to the enemy, shooting them twice with her weakest gun, signaling them that she was there. Quickly, the other player shot her character down, killing her. They lost the game.

"THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?! WE COULD'VE FUCKING WON!" Explosion Murder wasn't taking defeat easily like the other two were. Y/N could only give a grunt of disapproval towards the loud player.

"Ha, why did you just give up right there? You could've easily killed him." Tape Dispenser was just as confused as the other two players, slightly disappointed at the loss. Y/N sighed as she rubbed her forehead.

"Sorry not sorry, but this dude really thought he could get away with telling me what to do. I'll make my move when I'm ready, sorry to disappoint you guys." She sighed as she rubbed her neck, ready to hear the disapprovals of her teammate. But what she heard and saw made her smile.

"Nah, it's fine. It can get a tiny bit annoying with Murder yelling in your ear." Tape Dispenser reassured her, with Sleep Deprived's character giving her a thumbs up. Though, the annoyed sigh caught her attention back to him. Her eyebrow twitched. What is it now?

"I'm done with this fucking sappy shit scene. I'm out." Those were Murder's last words before he disconnected, leaving them in an awkward silence before Y/N stifled a giggle.

"I have a feeling that won't be the last time I'm seeing him." Tape Dispenser chuckled while Sleep Deprived's character shook their head, making Y/N softly laugh. After sending friend requests to both people, she bid them both fair well and left.

Y/N turned off her console and tv, putting the controllers on the table near her. She laid down in the comfort of her bed, thinking about her interactions with the people she met. She smiled, closing her eyes and drifting into a dreamless slumber with only one thought in mind. 

King Explosion Murder is such a weird name.

[doodleimprovement]

CSAU :: Moonie Jericho and the Mysterious Case of the Moon-Jumper Mask - Alternate Ending

Or: “The extremely self indulgent 7 page fic were Nell gets to be more helpful and has some actual characterization” 

Yeahhhh this isn’t canon to the fic, but I wanted to write it because I can, at LAST give ya’ll Nell’s backstory for how they came to live in Subcon in the CSAU

Per usual, the “Coffee Shop AU” belongs to the ever wonderful @doodledrawsthings

Also, note: Both MJ and Nell use “they/them” pronouns, with MJ being “He/They” and Nell being “She/They” To keep things from getting too confusing, Nell will be “They” and MJ will be “He” 

Enjoy! 

--

Nell was honestly a bit surprised when MJ came to their home the morning after Halloween, sheepishly stating that the mask seemed ... stuck.

“Really?”

He nodded.

“Huh.. Come on in then. I’ll get some tea going and see about helping you out, hm?”

He walked into their house, taking a moment to actually look about the place- as he didn’t get much of a chance before- and took a seat in their small living room.

The ambiance of the outside followed inside, with the walls painted chestnut brown with warm yet bright pops of color on the windowsill and the various picture frames full of people he didn’t know. The curtain over the wide window was patterned with little pumpkins, which he found cute, and hanging from a few ceiling hooks were what Clover would call “Low-maintenance” plants. The dark colors match well with the room, making it feel a bit comfier than it otherwise might.

The couch he sat on was across from an armchair, and both were colored a warm orange, with an espresso-colored coffee table. On said table were some envelopes and a copy of “Better Homes and Gardens”

Huh, he didn’t peg them as a reader of those types of magazines. Then again, Clover was the one that knew Nell, not him.

They came back with two mugs - one was purple with the “Snatcher” face on it, and the other had a little grumpy ghost on it, with “I’m spooky before my coffee” written above the drawing.

They handed him the Snatcher mug

“Can I ask where you get all of this Snatcher merch?”

“My best friend is an Etsy fiend. Despite him living all the way in Nyakoto, he ships me Snatcher merch whenever he finds something fun. He’s a real character” they chuckled.

“Huh” MJ acknowledged as Nell walked around the coffee table and sat next to him

“Do you feel the mask?”

He nodded, his hand up at the edge, right where he felt it “When I pull, it just… doesn’t move”

“Hm..” they sipped. “When you try to take it off, how does it feel?”

“Like… it’s like a thousand little… things? Pulling at my face, I think?” MJ pulled up their mug and sipped the tea.

“Like… string? Thread?”

MJ nodded. “I think that's the right word, thread”

Nell puts down the mug as MJ takes another sip. “Let me see” they scooted closer to him, and he put his mug down and turned his head.

Their hands seemed to glow green as they raised it “There we go…” They muttered, hand immediately finding the mask’s edge, and seeing what he was talking about “... Huh, the threads… well, that's the right word. They’re… criss-crossed…”

Before he could ask if they could remove them, he felt a slight burning at the edge of his face and jumped

“Ah!”

“Sorry, sorry, but, that did work… Though, it means you might be here a while” they admit “I’ll need you to stay still, okay?”

“Oh.. okay”

It was... Not Okay.

A few minutes into Nell’s attempt at getting the mask off, they let out a huff.

“You can’t keep squirming”

“I- I’m sorry” He muttered “It's just, you know, hard to stay still”

“I understand that, but I don’t want to mess this up. I’d like to see your actual eyes” They muttered.

“I know, it just.. Weird feeling” He tried to explain.

“Moon” They pressed, but sighed “... You seem still enough when I’m talking to you, need a distraction?”

“I mean, I guess…?”

Nell sighed “Hm… How about I tell you how I came to live in Subcon? That’s a long-ass story”

“Oh uh, if you’re okay with sharing!” MJ tried to be polite. He knew that even Clover wasn’t completely sure why Nell came to live in the town, she just knew that “something happened” back at the coast where they were from.

“Nah. It’s been 5 years. That’s more than long enough” The nurse stayed focused on the magic threads, their magic seeming to thrum in his ears- sounding almost like the hum of a fan in the dead heat of summer..

There was a pause, before they took in a breath.

“When I was 19, I took a job in Nyakoto, and left my hometown as fast as the train could take me. I had a scholarship to a little nursing school there, and before my 21st birthday, I’d gotten a nice, decent paying job as an ER nurse for a hospital in the East Side” They started “The hospitals were all interconnected, so I ended up meeting different doctors and nurses while I worked, and sometimes was called to assist in other hospitals.

“I was.. 25, when I met him” They recalled, something in their voice seeming heavy. “We’ll call him Chris

“He was in residency at a hospital down in the Wesservale neighborhood. We met at a medical appreciation gala… He had something about him I couldn't place. . . A charisma, almost. A kindness. He seemed so eager for the future, so excited for what the next day might bring him. I’d never been like that. His optimism drew me in.

“We started dating the year after. Like with most relationships, everything seemed great. He was funny, kind, thoughtful, all of that stuff. He even went with me to pride stuff, which was pretty cool at the time.”

“Pride?” MJ chimed in. Nell couldn’t hide a chuckle.

“Yes. You’ve heard of the Nyakoto Annual Pride Bonanza, haven’t you? One of the biggest in the country”

“I have, yes”

“Good. Back to the story” Nell redirected “When I was 27, about a year and a half into the relationship, I realized, quite unhappily, that we weren’t actually very different, and didn’t really get along as well as we thought.. It's not that we argued, but.. We didn’t really… talk. I never spoke to him about my problems, I didn’t feel like I could, and that really made me realize that we weren’t actually all that comfortable around each other. So, when he came over to my place that night for dinner, I spoke to him, and tried to tell him that we weren’t compatible, and that I thought perhaps we’d be better off as friends.

“He convinced me that we just needed work, going on and on about all these plans he had for us. Trips, dates, things to look forward to, always looking toward the future, Chris did”

Nell paused again

“.. I really should have noticed how little he cared about happiness in the present.” They commented “Not a traditional red flag, but it was a warning nonetheless”

“Well, I mean, that’s not so bad”

“In a way, no” Nell replied “But when you think about the future so much, you forget the present, you forget to live, and your past just.. Ends up a horrible haze. Even the happy stuff is hard to recall”

MJ hadn’t thought of it like that

“But hindsight is 2020, and in the moment, I believed him. I wanted to believe those bright dreams of the future, and I let go of the fact that I did not even like to talk to him very much.

“... I tried to break up with him 4 more times in the 8 years we were together.”

Okay, MJ hadn’t been expecting that much time passing.

“By the time I was 34, we were living together, but barely seeing each other. From the outside it must have seemed perfect to everyone else. I think only Daph knew about my.. Issues, with Chris. I still never talked to him about anything that wasn’t the future, or how the day was, or.. Just, absolute nonsense.

“One night, after one more attempt to break up, I’d gone to bed defeated, and woke up at 3 in the morning while he was on the night shift in Wesservale.. I came to this… realization

“If I didn’t leave right then and there, I’d marry him…. and I’d …. I’d be stuck. He’d have me, and I’d be stuck for the rest of my life..

“So I grabbed everything I had in the apartment, sent a resignation email to the East side hospital I still worked at, left him a note telling him I was leaving, took my car and just… started driving”

“.. Did he call you?”

“I blocked his number.” They answered curtly. “Drove for days until I came across Subcon.”

MJ didn’t comment.

“I stayed at the Alpine Motel for a few nights, and when I was at the diner, overheard that there was an open position for the school nurse at the elementary” They continued. “I applied for it, and 3 months later cashed in my savings to put a down payment on this little place” They made a motion with their hand briefly “The rest is history”

“Well… If it's any consolation, I think that's a good reason to get out of the city”

Nell couldn’t hold back a laugh. There was something a little… sad, in it, but the laugh was genuine.

“Yeah, then again, every reason is a good one to get out of the city” They commented, and MJ had only just realized that their hands were now on the other side of his face. Nell worked quickly, it seemed. “Hm.. okay. On the count of three, I'm going to try to take it off, alright?”

“Oh, uh, wow, okay!” He replied eagerly, closing his eyes.

“One…” They slowly started, both hands on either side, their nails right at the edge of the mask.

“Three!”

MJ startled as Nell pulled, and a cold, sharp feeling spread over his body before it abruptly ended. When he opened his eyes. He looked at Nell, who had, in their hands, that damned mask.

His hands went up to his face, and he let out a relieved laugh as he felt his skin, glasses and hair “hah! Hahah! I’m human again! No more magic!” He raised his hands and leaned back on the couch “Sweet relief”

Nell let out a chuckle, putting the mask down gently “Finish your tea, I’m gonna grab you a damp towel. You have… paint? On your face”

His brow was furrowed, but he reached for the still-warm mug anyway as Nell got up and went down a short hallway.

He took the few moments that Nell was done to think over the story he’d been told, the exhaustion in the nurse’s voice as she told it. Was he really the first one to learn? It gave him a weird feeling right in his chest.

When Nell returned, she offered a small, damp towel… that had the “Snatcher” smile on it

“... How many of these do you have?” He almost laughed again, and they just answered with an amused smile and grabbed their own coffee cup.

MJ cleaned his face, seeing a candy-red color coming off on the purple towel. “Hm..”

“What?”

“Well uh, the color looks like the magic strings I was able to summon”

Nell Blinked “... Well uh, bring that up with Tim when he’s back in town. That’s a little out of my wheelhouse”

“Noted”

The two fell into silence, sipping their warm drinks and giving them some time to unwind

“Will you need a ride home?” they asked him, putting their mug down.

He hadn’t actually thought of that.

“Oh, uh, it’s fine”

They raised an eyebrow at him

“You live 20 minutes away and Luka isn’t here to … fly you home, per se” They laid out “I’ve got a car, I’ll drive you home”

He turned a little red to the ears “Oh.. Thank you”

“No problem, Moon” They smiled back at him. “I’m going to change real quick, then we’ll leave”

And with that, they left back into the short hallway, to what Moon assumed was their bedroom.

Nell returned a few minutes later, dressed in a loose blouse and skirt that went down to their ankles, a far cry from the tank top and sweatpants that he’d seen them in before. He supposed that it was more so not wanting to go out in Pajamas than anything else. She picked up the mask, wrapping it in a handkerchief before holding it out to him

“It’s chosen you. You have to keep it”

He just nodded, and gingerly took the troublesome thing into his hands.

The two got in their truck (Nell owned a truck??) and drove into town.

MJ took in a breath as they turned onto a main street, passing The Horizon. “So uh, Nell..”

“Hm?”

“About your uh, the story you told me.. I won’t tell anyone”

“I don’t mind if you do” they answered, eyes on the road

“What, really?”

“Like I said before. Five years feels long enough”

MJ’s brow furrowed “I’m still not going to say anything.. That’s a personal story. It’s not mine to tell”

Nell glanced over at him with an unreadable expression, before moving to turn on the radio. Lo-fi started, and it seemed they were right in the middle of a Billie Eilish song.

“.. Thank you” They ended up responding as the song picked up

”I know supposedly I'm lonely now.

Know I’m supposed to be unhappy without someone.

But aren’t I someone?” 

MJ didn’t say much of anything else once until they got to his apartment building

“Thank you, Nell. For everything”

“Don’t mention it” They gave him a small, but sincere smile “Get some rest, hm? The bags under your eyes are aging you”

MJ just laughed “I will. Don’t be a stranger, Mx. Buonacci”

The nurse gave him a lazy salute with a soft smile, before the window rolled up, and they drove off

Exhaling, he looked down at the covered mask, wrapped in a…. Snatcher-patterned handkerchief.

He couldn’t help but laugh.

[pickalilywrites]

Can we please get some Gabi/Falco? I loved From the Top of the Mountain; it’s one of the best works with those two out there. Maybe it takes place post Rumbling? Just something with those two

thanks!!! i'm glad you liked from the top of the mountain!! it's still one of my favorites too :) I hope you like this one too! have a good day ^-^

How to Be Brave

Falbi. Canonverse.

5136 words.

Read on Ao3!

Falco doesn’t know how Gabi does it. He’s never been the type to charge headfirst into the crossfire, but Gabi will do it without hesitation. Ever since Falco can remember, Gabi has never been afraid of anything. The first day they had been selected as Warrior trainees, she had marched into the classroom without a second glance. She does things with purpose, never second-guessing her actions or faltering. Every trigger Gabi pulls, she does without wavering, holding the gun steady as she takes aim. Every attack she carries out, she does so without batting an eye. Every battle, she runs straight into the battlefield. She’s fearless and the bravest person Falco has ever met.

Falco is not brave. He’s the biggest coward he knows. Despite being a Warrior candidate for years, he’s always hesitating. He fumbles with his gun, always pulling the trigger too late and missing his target because he’s never certain of where he should be aiming. He finds himself rooted to the ground far too often when he’s taken into the warzones, never knowing what step to take lest a mine blows up in his face. Falco’s never been at the head of a charge, and he’s not sure he ever will because if he pauses for even a second his whole entire squad will be blown to bits.

“Tell me how,” he tells Gabi one day. He walks up to her desk, tugging at his earlobe and biting his bottom lip. “Tell me how you do it.”

Gabi looks up at him from her textbook. Written exams are probably her weakest subject, but that’s not saying much considering how exemplary she is in the other ones. She’s hardworking and stubborn enough to compensate for her weakness anyway. With an eyebrow quirked, Gabi says, “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific.”

Falco nibbles on his lip some more, fidgeting uncomfortably and tugging at the sleeves of his school uniform. How can he admit in front of Gabi that he’s afraid? He’s a coward, he knows, but it’s different saying it out loud in front of someone like Gabi. She’s the person that he admires the most. It’s highly likely that she already knows of his cowardice, but for Falco to say it out loud would only solidify that knowledge and he’s not even sure he can do that. The inner conflict he’s having of even voicing his problem out loud just shows how pathetically indecisive he is.

“I don’t know … how to be brave like you,” Falco says bitterly. His eyes turn away from Gabi. He hates how weak he feels right now, weaker than he’s ever felt before. “I … How do you do it? You never hesitate about anything. You always know where you want to go and how you want to do things. You never second-guess things. You’re always … brave and I … I’m not.”

He hates the sting in his eyes as he finds himself on the brink of tears. It figures that a weakling like him would be brought to tears over something so stupid. He wasn’t meant to be a Warrior, not like Gabi. Half the time, he doesn’t know why he was selected to become a candidate, but the rumors of the selection committee choosing him because of his family’s long-time loyalty and his elder brother’s position as the next Beast Titan feel more and more true each day. Without those connections, Falco probably never would have been chosen. He probably wouldn’t have even been noticed.

There’s a scrape of Gabi’s chair against the hardwood floor. When Falco looks up, Gabi is standing in front of him. She doesn’t look at him pityingly, but she doesn’t look disgusted either. He’s crying now, sniffling and trying to wipe the snot from his nose and the tears from his eyes, but Gabi is kind enough to pretend he isn’t.

“It’s not something I can teach you,” Gabi tells him, and Falco can feel his shoulder slump even more. She flicks her hair out of her face with a hand and continues. “‘Being brave’ or whatever … it’s just how I am. I was just born like this. You can’t learn it.”

It makes Falco feel like a fool for even bringing it up in the first place. So he’s just going to be a coward for the rest of his life, always second-guessing himself and being unsure if he’s doing the right thing while Gabi will always be charging ahead. It’s a part of Falco that he’ll never be able to change. He’ll just be a loser for the rest of his life.

Gabi sighs and it’s enough to make Falco flinch. He wants to apologize for wasting her time over such a stupid question. Of course, she’s right. Of course, he’ll always be lacking and scared and she’ll always be better than him. Of course, he’ll never make a proper Warrior. He’s about to bow his head and apologize, but Gabi speaks first.

“Look,” she says. Her voice is gentle now, lacking the usual fortissimo that Gabi usually speaks with. “We’re different, you and I. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it makes a difference on the battlefield.”

Falco nods. He’s known that for quite a while now, but it’s still difficult to hear it come from Gabi’s lips. “I … I know,” he mumbles.

“No, look,” Gabi says, waving her hand as if to tell Falco not to get upset. She looks up at the ceiling for a moment as she thinks of the proper way to proceed. After a moment, she claps her hand and begins to explain. “It’s like you said, right? I’m really good on the field because I don’t hesitate. I know my targets, I shoot without hesitating, and I never second-guess myself.”

Falco doesn’t quite know where she’s going with this, but he nods to show that he’s listening.

“It’s because I always know what to do,” Gabi says simply. Falco gives her a funny look, but she simply shrugs like she can’t give a better explanation. “I’m always certain about what needs to be done. I know myself well — how fast I can run, how far I can throw, how strong I am when I throw a punch — so I trust myself when I’m on the battlefield. I don’t hesitate because I never need to; I know what I’m capable of.”

Falco’s eyes are downcast once more. Everything Gabi says makes perfect sense. While Gabi knows and trusts herself completely, Falco doesn’t. His cowardice stems from the fact that he’s always afraid about his lack of abilities. Whenever he’s on the field or even just training, he’s always doubting himself. Is he able to run this distance without his legs giving out? Is he able to shoot this target without missing? Does he have the strength to charge into battle without collapsing midway? And the answer is always the same: it wavers first from thinking perhaps he might be able to do it if he strains himself before Falco begins to think that he doesn’t have the strength or stamina to do any of these tasks and then he inevitably falls into despair when he convinces himself that such things are impossible for him. His thoughts lead him to falter more and more with every step he takes, to have his hand waver every time he points a gun while his finger trembles on the trigger, and cause him to fall behind every time he’s ordered to run into the crossfire.

Falco supposes that’s it then. He’ll just be a coward for the rest of his life while Gabi will always be ahead, increasing the distance between them until she disappears from his view completely. He thinks that’s what he’s the most afraid of.

A hand appears in front of Falco and it surprises Falco when he realizes that it’s Gabi offering her hand to him. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to take it. His hand reaches out, but he never puts his hand in hers. His hand just hovers above hers awkwardly, uncertain even for this simple thing. It seems to surprise even Gabi, who looks at him with her eyebrows raised.

“It’s okay if you’re afraid. I’ll never be afraid of anything,” Gabi says. She puts her hand closer to his, wiggling her fingers to show him that it’s fine. “I’ll show you how to be brave, so just take my hand. I’ll stay by your side.”

He’s not sure if he can take her hand. Falco’s not sure if he deserves to be by her side. He’s afraid that he’ll only hold Gabi back. Is this really okay? Is he really worthy?

He clenches his fist before reaching out. Even if he doubts himself, he trusts Gabi. Gabi believes in him enough to offer him her hand. She trusts him enough to allow him by her side. She has faith in him even if he doesn’t.

Gabi smiles when Falco takes her hand, and he smiles back in response. It’s not as confident as her smile. It’s a little strained, a little uncertain, but it’s fine, Falco thinks, because he’s holding her hand. He’s not sure how this will all work out or if it ever will in the end. He doesn’t know if this will make him braver on the battlefield. He doesn’t know if it’ll lead to a happy ending, but for once that doesn’t matter. Holding Gabi’s hand, he forgets all his uncertainties and thinks that maybe he can be just a little bit braver.

»»————-　➴　————-««

Gabi doesn’t know how people do it — get out of bed, eat, function. She doesn’t remember how to act like a real human being. It takes nearly all her energy to get out of bed only for her to be so exhausted that she wants to collapse back against the pillows and sheets and cry herself to sleep like she has for so many nights.

She doesn’t know when this started, her inability to sleep, to eat, to wake. It’s post-traumatic stress disorder, a doctor said, because of the war. Gabi’s not so sure. It might have started before then, before the Founding Titan rose and the Walls of Paradis came crumbling down, before she had left Marley and vowed revenge for her friends and family, before Eren Jaeger declared war on Marley and destroyed her home, but Gabi isn’t sure when exactly it had begun. In the end, it probably doesn’t even matter.

A lot of days Mikasa comes in to check on Gabi, sitting on the edge of the young girl’s bed and stroking the hair from her face before asking how she’s feeling. Sometimes Gabi will mumble something about how she’s tired or sleepy, but the most frequent response is just the sound of silence as Gabi pretends to be asleep. Mikasa will stroke her hair and hum a song, some old Eldian song that Gabi doesn’t know, before leaving. Armin will often hover in the doorway, mumbling questions and trying to get through, but Mikasa will always usher him out. Gabi always hears them whisper to each other: Armin asking if she’s getting any better, if she needs to see the doctor again, if he should talk to her, and Mikasa will tell him that she just needs time to heal. They all need time to heal, but Gabi’s not sure she ever will. It feels like Gabi is the only one that feels this way: scared and sad and hopeless. There are days where she’s convinced that she’ll never get better.

Mikasa has her bad days, too. There are nights where Gabi will wake to Mikasa shaking her, screaming until Gabi opens her eyes and then the woman will cry with relief that “Sasha” is still alive. Some days Armin won’t leave the house at all, saying that he never wants to take a step outside because dreaming of the outside world is the thing that had cursed him in the first place. That’s what it’s like on their worst days.

On their best days, Armin and Mikasa will go for a walk. Maybe Gabi will get out of bed, but she’ll never join them outside. It’s too much for her. Even sitting down at the table and staring out the window can be overwhelming for her, but she’ll do it on days she feels strong enough. They are the best days because Armin and Mikasa will walk hand-in-hand and return home with smiles on their faces as if they hadn’t cried the entire night before. It is as if they forget all the horror of the war almost a year ago, but Gabi knows they’ll remember it when the sun sets and the night comes. But at least for a brief moment they can smile.

Gabi can never get herself to smile. It’s as if she had forgotten how. She thinks even if she were able to, she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to do it. It’s more than the depression or the stress or whatever psychological disorder the doctors are trying to diagnose her with to explain her melancholia. It’s like she’s scared of everything: of waking up, of leaving the house, of even the idea of being happy. She’s afraid she’ll never find a way to be happy again. She’s afraid she doesn’t deserve it.

It makes Gabi jealous when she sees Armin or Mikasa smile. She pulls her blankets over her head whenever she hears the two of them laugh together. She wants to scream when they hold hands. The truth is, though, that she wants to be able to smile, to laugh, to be held, but she doesn’t know how. She’s convinced that she will just have to be miserable for the rest of her life. It’s what she deserves anyway. She isn’t sure about anything else, but she knows that for certain.

Falco comes to visit sometimes. He comes at least once a week. He lives with Levi now that the war is over. (“It’s good that the old man has someone to take care of him,” Mikasa says once before Armin quickly chastises her for speaking about their former captain that way.) Falco never makes it past the doorway. He always comes to ask about Gabi, her condition, if she feels any better, if she’d like to go out for a walk with him because the fresh air might be good for her. Mikasa always tells him the same thing: that Gabi is still recovering, but that they’ll let him know when Gabi’s well enough to go outside. He never complains when he’s turned away.

One day he visits on a “good” day. Gabi sees him from the window walking up the path to the cabin. Even though she wonders if he sees her, she doesn’t wave. She just watches him as he follows up the path eventually leading to the front door. He knocks in the same familiar way that he always has — three quick raps of his knuckles against the hardwood — and Mikasa opens the door for him.

“Hi, Miss Mikasa. Mister Armin,” Falco’s voice says from the doorframe. He sounds good. Happy. Normal. He sounds like everything Gabi wishes she could be. She can hear him speak again, his voice a little more hesitant this time. “How … how is Gabi today? Do you think I could see her?”

Mikasa takes an uncertain glance at where Gabi sits. Gabi knows what she looks like: a mess. Her dark hair is in disarray, tangled from lying in bed all day. There are bags under her eyes because all her dreams are interrupted by nightmares. Her face is gaunt because she can hardly swallow more than three bites of food whenever she musters the energy to sit up for a meal. Gabi doesn’t blame Mikasa when the woman shakes her head and asks Falco to come back another time.

Gabi didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. She never says goodbye. She never even says hello. It’s because she’s too tired, too worn, too broken to even fathom greeting someone who seems to be doing worlds better than her. Every time Falco visits, she tells herself that she’ll feel better next time. She’ll be able to walk to the door and give him the smallest smile before inviting him in. They’ll be able to sit at the table and have tea that Armin brews for them. They’ll take a little bit about what Falco is doing and maybe he’ll invite her outside and she’ll think about it if she’s feeling better. If she ever feels better. If she can ever feel better.

The thought that Gabi might always feel this way — cold and alone and barely living as it is — seizes her. It makes her blood run cold and she grips the edge of the table with a hopeless desperation because this isn’t what she wants. She doesn’t want to be here, trapped by her own feelings of fear and grief and despair. She wants to be outside with Falco, to hold his hand, to smile. She doesn’t want to be alone anymore, but the idea that she can ever be happy is so hopelessly out of reach.

It must be in a fit of madness that she gets up from the table, her chair screeching as she pushes it back and nearly toppling over as Gabi runs to the door. The broken girl is stopped only by Mikasa, who grabs her by the elbow.

“Gabi, what is it?” Mikasa asks, eyes wide with alarm and her brow knit together in concern. Even as Gabi struggles to free herself from the woman’s grip, Mikasa holds onto the girl firmly. “What’s wrong?”

“Let go! I need to go!” Gabi says, and she’s crying now just like she always does these days. Tears stream down her face and taste like salt on her tongue. She swallows her sobs and wipes at her nose hastily with the back of her hand. “I want to see him! I want to see Falco.” It’s more than that though. She wants to see him. She has to see him. She needs to see him, but he’s already walking down the path, slowly growing smaller and threatening to disappear from view.

“Gabi, wait, just wait a minute,” Mikasa says. Her arms are wrapped around Gabi, holding the frail girl back even as Gabi struggles. Her face buried in Gabi’s shoulder, Mikasa says, “Wait a moment, Gabi, please.”

Gabi doesn’t want to hear it. She wants to fly out the door, run down the trail, and throw herself in Falco’s arms. She wants to be where he is, a place where the grass is greener, the sun is shining, and she can smile.

“Gabi,” Armin’s gentle voice calls. As Mikasa’s arms loosen around Gabi, the man drapes a soft cardigan around Gabi’s shoulders. It’s far too big for her but it smells like wood and freshly lit candles. Armin helps guide her arms through the sleeves and pulls the cardigan around her. “Gabi, don’t worry. He’ll wait for you.”

“But I have to go now,” Gabi says and she feels herself about to burst into tears once more.

“It’s fine,” Mikasa says and she reaches out to smooth a lock of hair away from Gabi’s forehead. She gives the girl a comforting smile. “Just … come back home, okay?”

Gabi pauses and then gives them a nod. Without warning, she throws arms around both her guardians and whispers a quick, “Thank you.” She feels their arms squeeze her back in reply and as soon as they let go, she dashes out the door.

It’s been so long since she last exerted herself. Gabi’s breathless after the first few seconds, panting hard and gasping for breath. She doesn’t remember the last time she had been this exhausted. Even during her grueling training periods as a Marleyan Warrior she can’t recall getting tired so quickly. Her legs are beginning to ache even though she hasn’t even run a hundred meters from the cabin. Her lungs feel as if they’re about to burst, burning with every breath she takes. Her body hurts too much. She doesn’t know how far she can go, how many more steps she can take before she collapses, but she can’t stop.

She can see Falco in the distance, his back turned to her. He doesn’t realize that she’s running after him. Why doesn’t he know? If she calls him now, will he turn back?

Gabi doesn’t think she has the strength to call his name, but she musters whatever energy she has left and screams his name as loudly as she can. “Falco!” she shouts, and even she can hear how weak her voice is. “Falco! Falco, Falco!”

It’s only after the third call that Falco turns around. Gabi is close enough to see his face. His lips are parted, shaped in a perfect “O.” For a moment, she’s afraid that he’ll turn away from her, that he’ll abandon her, but he stays rooted in place, waiting for her. She’s so relieved she can cry.

“Falco, Falco!” Gabi sobs. She calls his name the entire way. She’s so tired that she doesn’t know how she’s able to make it. She doesn’t stop until she’s right in front of him, falling into his arms and clinging onto him because he’s the only thing that’s keeping her standing.

“Hey, hey,” Falco says gently. It’s so comforting to hear his voice so close to her. It’s deeper than Gabi remembers, but it’s still so warm and familiar. “Gabi, it’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“Help me, help me,” she begs, her voice shaking. She holds so tightly to him that she might tear the sleeves of his shirt. She just wants him close. She wants him closer. “Help me, please.” When she sinks to the ground, he does too, holding her in his arms to cushion her fall.

“Help you?” Falco repeats. He doesn’t ask her why and he doesn’t ask her what for. He just raises her head, his hand gentle as he lifts her chin. She sees his blue eyes wide with concern. She feels his other hand wipe away her tears as he asks her, “How?”

“Make me … help me … be happier,” she tells him, and she feels so pathetic for asking him for such a thing. There used to be days where she’d smile all the time and laughter was not far from her lips. Happiness came easily to her, but those days are long gone. She doesn’t know if she remembers how to smile anymore. It’s something a child can do, but she finds it so impossible.

How had she become so helpless and pitiful? Once, she had been a proud warrior. She could wield a gun and fire it without thinking twice. Now, she can hardly get out of bed in the morning because the thought of it terrifies her.

“I just want to be happier,” Gabi whispers. Her voice is so quiet that she’s afraid that her words go unheard, but Falco quickly clasps her hands in his.

“Then you should be. Why shouldn’t you?” Falco tells her with such sincerity that she thinks she might cry again. “Isn’t it what you deserve? You deserve to be happy, Gabi.”

She should be grateful that he thinks so, but for some reason she hates hearing it from his lips. It’s what she wants to hear the most. It comes from the person she cares about the most, but she knows that the words he says are not true.

“No.” Gabi shakes her head. Tears begin to roll down her cheeks again. There’s no point in stopping them. She begins to pull her hands away from Falco’s, but he holds tightly to her. It almost hurts for her hands to be held so tightly, but his hands are so warm around hers. “No, Falco, I … of all people, I deserve it the least. I … how can I be happy after everything that has happened?

“I killed people,” she tells him as if he doesn’t know this already, as if he hadn’t been there when she had blown the trigger, as if he hadn’t seen her paint her own hands with blood. Gabi shakes her head when Falco begins to open his mouth to interrupt. Whatever words of comfort he has for her, she doesn’t deserve them. “I killed people thinking they were monsters, but the whole time the monster had been me.”

“Gabi, please,” Falco pleads. He tugs her hands closer, pulls her in closer to him. “That wasn’t your fault. The things we were taught … the world we lived in … how were we to know right from wrong?”

Gabi shakes her head, dark hair falling into her face and obscuring her vision. “And all of our friends … our family,” Gabi says. She closes her eyes and her tears burn down her cheeks. She used to be able to conjure up the faces of her loved ones so easily with her eyes closed, but now their features are faded to her. She’s unsure of the smallest details — the right angle of their nose, the thickness of their eyelashes, the exact shade of their hair — and she’s afraid that in time they will completely fade from her memory. “I couldn’t save them and it’s all my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Falco reaches out with a hand and brushes her hair from her face, tenderly tucking it behind her ears. When Gabi glances up at him, he looks at her with eyes full of sincerity like he knows his words to be true. “It wasn’t your fault, Gabi. Nothing was your fault.”

Falco leans over and hugs her tightly. He rests one hand on the back of her head, letting Gabi’s head lay on his shoulder as she continues to sob. He strokes the top of her head and continues. “They wouldn’t blame you either, Gabi. Nobody would. They wouldn’t want to see you like this. They would want you to be happy,” he tells her. “All they would want is for you to be happy, so don’t you think it’s time for you to stop punishing yourself?”

Gabi wishes she could. She wishes she could stop crying. She wishes she could live a normal life. She wishes she could be happy.

“But I’m scared,” she whispers.

She’s scared that she doesn’t deserve to be happy even if people say otherwise. She’s scared that she’ll muster the courage to get out of bed and eat and leave the house only to be reminded that she doesn’t deserve any of those things. She’s scared that she’ll try to live normally only for something to go terribly wrong — for the world to tremble underneath her feet, for the sky to fall, for the earth to shatter in front of her very eyes — because the universe knows she doesn’t deserve any bit of happiness in her life.

She even hesitates to indulge in little pleasures. She’s unsure if she should eat more than a bite of the food Armin prepares. She’s uncertain if she should reciprocate the hugs that Armin and Mikasa give her. She doesn’t know if she should even go outside and enjoy the scenery because everything is more than she deserves.

“I’m scared,” Gabi repeats. She holds onto Falco tighter, her fingernails digging into his shoulder, but he doesn’t pull away. “I’m scared and terrified of everything. I’m too afraid to ever be happy.”

Falco squeezes her tightly. “Then I’ll teach you how,” he tells her. He says it like a promise. He pulls away slightly. It’s far enough so that he can see her face but still close enough that he can hold her in his arms. He’s smiling now. It’s not broad and carefree like it used to be when they were children. It’s a little cracked at the edges, a little forced, a little bit pained. It’s a little bit hopeful. “In a world like this … it’s brave to try to be happy, but it’s hard being brave, isn’t it?” His voice isn’t mocking. It’s gentle. Sweet. Understanding.

Gabi feels exhausted. She doesn’t have the energy to answer in words. She just gives him a simple nod.

“You don’t have to be alone, Gabi,” Falco tells her. “You have me. You have Miss Mikasa and you have Mister Armin. You have all of these people who care about you. You have all these people who want you to be happy, and we’re always going to be there to help you.”

“Thank you,” Gabi whispers. She slumps against Falco, his arms the only thing holding her up. She’s crying again, but she cries tears of gratitude this time because Falco says everything she’s always needed to hear. For the first time in a long time, she feels hopeful. She says the words she’s always wanted to say out loud: “I want to be happy.”

Falco smiles a little more broadly this time. It’s not the same smile as when they were kids. Gabi’s not sure they will ever be able to smile the same way again, but she still wants to smile again. She wants to smile with him.

“I’ll help you,” he tells her. Falco stands up, but he doesn’t bother brushing the dirt from his clothing. Instead, he reaches out a hand towards Gabi. “Let’s be happy together, Gabi.”

She’s not sure if she should take his hand. She doesn’t know if she should rely this much on him, if she should be this much of a burden to him, if she deserves his help, but she wants it so badly. There’s a possibility that she won’t ever be happy even with Falco’s help. There’s a chance that she still might not be able to smile. There’s a risk that this might all just be a fool’s dream … but it’s a risk that Gabi wants to take.

Gabi puts her hand in Falco’s and lets him pull her up. She lets him fuss with her hair and clothing, lets him run his hand through her hair to get out the tangle and brush at the skirt of her nightgown so that the dirt doesn’t stick. She lets him take care of her and when he looks at her to make sure she’s okay, she gives him a smile.

It’s far from perfect. It’s hardly a smile at all. It’s just her lips with the edges curled slightly upward. The smile doesn’t reach her eyes. Even Gabi knows it’s a pathetic attempt and it hurts to stretch her lips this way. She can feel her smile crumbling at the edges. It’s scared and broken and uncertain … and hopeful.

[lightcomingthroughthedarkness]

Bob spends years painstakingly establishing boundaries, only for people to throw everything out of the window for some cheap throws. He's one of the few actors I have ever seen to go out of his way to stop people from harassing on his behalf only for new stans to act like he isn't a real person. Holy shit, he made it clear all he wants to do is move on, who cares about what his ex from 4 years ago says now?

One of the reasons why there is still drama is because some fans simply will not leave well enough alone. The dumbest thing is tagging her or responding to tweets/posts in her mentions. And then complaining that she answers? Yeah, you are in her mentions and you are giving her all the reasons in the world to respond. It's literally the least shocking part of all of this. Sure, you can say she should block and ignore and that would also be a valid way to handle it. But turning around and complaining that she isn't but instead is responding is baffling to me. Don't give her reasons to respond to you and you'd have no problems. Simple.

Also, I understand being a fan and wanting to defend the person you like. I understand if you feel angry or frustrated by things you believe to be lies or half truths. None of this is hard to understand but it's not necessary. I can assure you that neither Bob nor Eliza need you to defend them or to continue to behave in a way that keeps this drama alive.

While I'm at it, also please stop trying to find "the good guy/bad guy". Yes, abuse is very serious and DV is not something to take lightly. However, people have lost their minds going around calling everyone an abusive narcissistic psychopath for every little behavior they don't like. Madness.

Relationships can be messy and bad and unhealthy and people can be messy and complicated and sometimes people are incompatible and bring out the worse in each other and when you untangle all that sometimes people are better alone, with someone else and even maybe more compatible with someone else. You are not doctors or psychologists. Stop diagnosing people with diagnoses that have serious and real consequences in real life. No, it's not right when other people do that and it's also not right when you do it to other people.

None of us were there, we don't know these people. We can make our own judgment and have our own opinions. We can decide to think and believe whatever we want with the information we have and then we can leave them alone. We do not have a role in this. We do not need to go to war on their behalf, something they have not asked us to do, to feel better about our choices or because we feel a sense of responsibility to other people.

I like Bob and Eliza. I'm a fan. I don't blindly stan anybody and will happily step back if needed. I have the information I need to comfortably be a fan. That's enough for me. I don't need to attack or cause drama in other people's mentions whenever they do or say something I don't agree with. That's their business.

Lastly I just want to say, please consider their family. They have moved on and are trying to live their lives. They are not looking for this drama to follow them still. They have a baby now. If not for anything else, but for the simply peace and quiet they should have in their life right now with their child, just leave well enough alone. Because believe me when I say, if this blows up, it will be on part of the fandom for not stepping back. Leave HER alone and let THEM have their peace.

[tchallasbabymama]

Gone

Hey y’all, here’s Chapter 6 of Playlist. Check out my masterlist HERE to read the other chapters if you haven’t already, and check out my other stories too!

CW: alcoholism

Word count: 4894

Two months had passed and T’Challa was still not taking it well. He was still internalizing  the guilt he felt for putting Ashanti in harm's way, and it was all he could think about. He felt numb most days, and when he felt anything at all it was grief  over losing his love. Whenever he wasn’t working he hid away in his chambers, staring at the walls and playing sad music. Today his favorite song to wallow to was “Gone” by N*Sync. He laid across his bed sipping from a bottle of whiskey with the song playing on repeat as tears ran down his face. 

There's a thousand words that I could say

To make you come home

Oh, seems so long ago you walked away

Left me alone

I remember what you said to me

You were acting so strange

and maybe I was too blind to see

That you needed a change

Was it something I said

To make you turn away?

To make you walk out and leave me cold

If I could just find a way

To make it so that you were right here

But right now..

I've been sitting here

Can't get you off my mind

I've tried my best to be a man and be strong

I've drove myself insane

Wishing I could touch your face

But the truth remains..

You're gone..

You're gone..

Baby you're gone

Girl you're gone, baby girl, you're gone..

You're gone..

You're…

He barely spoke to his family anymore. Not even N’Jadaka could get anything out of him on their occasional walks when he would visit from Oakland. The king was a steel trap of emotions, and nobody could get in. His cousin could tell something was off, and began to worry about his health so he and Shuri decided to confront him about it. They knew it wouldn’t go well, but they never expected him to insult their intelligence. 

T’Challa had been able to hide his drinking from Queen Mother, but it was hard to get anything past the other two. N’Jadaka had seen friends go down a similar route and he knew the signs, and Shuri had overheard the kitchen staff talking about sending three bottles a night to the king’s chambers. When he was scheduled to leave for a mission with the Avengers she was scared out of her mind that he would get hurt, so right before he left she and her cousin confronted him. He lied to them, for the first time ever, and straight up denied the accusations. Shuri was hurt to her core knowing her brother was in such a bad way that he would stoop so low, but N’Jadaka expected his response. When he left they saw him off as usual, but Shuri broke down in her cousin’s arms after the Talon took off. Ramonda quickly became worried for both of her children when Shuri told her of the burden she had been carrying for her brother. They both internalized too much, and Ramonda had Shuri start therapy immediately. She also had a grief therapist and an addiction counselor on standby for T'Challa's return. She would be damned if she lost her son to his depression.

The Avengers had also noticed a change in T’Challa’s behavior, so much so that even Sam of all people was concerned for him. Thor had tried to lighten the king’s mood with their usual banter, but nothing changed. Wanda tried to regale him with her physics-defying powers to no avail, and Natasha couldn’t get anything out of him in their sparring sessions. Eventually Steve and Sam took it upon themselves to do something, Steve as a friend and Sam as a former counselor. 

“Catman, let me holler at you real quick,” Sam interrupted T’Challa’s brooding on the couch. He rolled his eyes, but reluctantly got up anyway. Sam led him into the kitchen, where Steve was already seated at the large table. Sam pulled out a chair and turned it around before sitting and resting his forearms on the back. 

“Ok, talk. You’ve been moping around the entire time you’ve been here and you’re bringing the energy down-”

“I think what Sam is trying to say is that we’re your friends and we can tell something is wrong... come on, man, you really think I haven’t picked up on your new drinking habit?” he asked in all honesty before trying to lighten the mood a little. “You know, for a cat, you’re not that sneaky.”

T’Challa closed his eyes and sighed. He had hoped nobody else would notice before he could get it together. When Shuri and N’Jadaka confronted him before he left he lied to their faces. He had never done that before, and as soon as the words left his mouth he was filled with shame and had to leave quickly to avoid them prying any more into it. When he looked out the window of the Talon after taking off he saw his baby sister break down in tears, and his heart broke. He decided then and there that he would stop drinking, but it didn’t exactly work out that way. Here he was, a month later and still no improvement. He was doing his best to keep it under wraps, but for once his best wasn’t good enough.

“Problems at home?...Is it about Ashanti? I haven't heard you mention her in awhile.” Steve continued, trying to get something out of him.

A lump formed in the king’s throat and he nodded before averting his eyes to the table.

“She left me.”

He proceeded to tell them the whole story and watched their faces twist in disbelief.

“Wow, that’s...wow,” Steve couldn’t believe it and his heart went out to both of them for what they went through and for what T’Challa is putting himself through now. “You know, for the longest time I blamed myself for what happened to Bucky. It ate me up inside, but you gotta let that stuff go, man. If not, you’re gonna start spiraling out of control, and nobody needs that.”

“He’s right, T.”

T’Challa and Steve looked at Sam in shock, he never referred to him by his name or anything close to it. It was always “Catman” or whatever cat joke he could come up with at the moment. 

“You need to talk to someone before this gets worse,” Sam said in earnest.

He thought back to his mother’s words shortly before he left Wakanda, “I’m worried about you, unyana wam. You have not been your usual bright self.”

T’Challa sat forward, placing his elbows on the table. He decided then and there that he couldn't keep doing this to himself. He was a king, he was a warrior, he was a superhero for Bast’s sake. He couldn’t afford to be a drunken shell of himself anymore, it was going to start catching up to him. He couldn’t keep blaming himself.

“You’re right.”

-------

After the incident, Ashanti moved back in with her parents so they could care for her. Kwame and Binta were over all the time, and Shuri even made a visit to bring her the new pinky she made for her. It took some getting used to how it felt on her hand, but she eventually got the hang of it.

At first, Ashanti was scared to leave her parents’ home, so they found a therapist that made house-calls. It took some time for Ashanti to trust her, but eventually she did and Jamila was able to convince her to go outside for the first time in two months. They stayed in her parents backyard for a few sessions, before Jamila gradually got her to move further and further from the home. After about 6 months, she was able to go to the bazaar on her own. She still wasn’t up for running Taj’s, so she let her new employees Zina and Jafari handle it. So far they had been doing a great job and she wasn’t too worried about getting back to it just yet. She took some time to find herself again, painting for the first time in almost a year and spinning clay at her pottery wheel whenever she felt the need. She caught up on the books she had been meaning to read, and she slowly got back into the habit of running in the mornings. 

 Ashanti surprisingly had no problem with moving back into the house with Binta and Kwame. She missed the twins more than she could verbalize, but really did need her time away. Eventually,  things went back to normal and it was almost as if the chapter of her life that included T’Challa never happened at all.

After a few months the twins pushed her to get back out there and she started dating a River tribe guy she met on her run one morning. She had tripped over a root and ended up falling flat on her face, but luckily another runner saw her fall and came over to help. He was a hot doctor named Zane. After he checked her ankle, he looked up and was captured by her beauty. He asked her out then and there, and three months later they’re still going strong. He was sweet, and smart, and funny, and all the things she wanted in a partner...but he didn't automatically know her favorite flower, and she didn't feel electricity from his touch. His kisses didn’t ignite a flame, just a little spark. He was a great lover, but the passion wasn’t there. 

In short, Ashanti was faking it, but she was too scared to break his poor little heart.

Even her parents and roommates could tell she wasn’t really feeling Zane, so they sat her down to talk some sense into her.

“Why does this look like an intervention?” Ashanti joked when she walked into her kitchen and saw her family seated around the table, all looking up at her.

“Because it is, girl. Sit down.” Kwame pulled out the chair next to him and she tentatively took a seat.

“Sithandwa,” Bisa started , “you know we love you-“

“What’s this about?” she cut her off, nervous and ready to cut to the chase.

“Zane.” Binta and Kwame stated, matter of factly. 

Ashanti knew what was coming. Each one of them had pulled her aside at some point to have what was sure to be the exact same conversation.

“Honey, you’re playing with that poor man’s heart. We can all see you don’t want him, he’s the only one who can’t.” Kwame reached out and grabbed her hand in his.

Ashanti sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. She hated being called out on her bullshit, especially since it didn't happen often. She knew they were right though, she was wrong for stringing him along.

“He’s a good man, I know, but you both deserve to be with people who want you the way you want them,” Bisa added,

“I know,” Ashanti let out a sigh before hanging her head and collecting herself. “I know, I just- he’s a great guy so I just keep hoping he’ll grow on me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Everyone seemed to look at each other out of the corners of their eyes without Ashanti noticing. They knew exactly what the problem was.

“Nothing is wrong with you, intyatyambo. You are just still in love,” Chidi cupped her face with his hand and she stared at him in shock.

“No, it’s been over a year. I’m past that now,” she tried to dead the conversation before it went somewhere she really wanted to avoid.

“Are you?” Binta asked. “Because everytime you see his hologram on the news you smile a little without even realizing it.”

“And don't forget when you ducked into a random bathroom and  texted me panicking because you saw Dora Milaje in the bazaar and thought he might be there.” Kwame added.

“I-I just didn’t want to see him, that’s all.”

“Mhm, then how come when I called you were you primping in the mirror?”

“I was not!”

“Sis…” he gave her the look.

Ashanti hung her head again.

“Fine,” she gave in. She knew why she wasn’t feeling Zane and why her palms still started to sweat when she saw pictures or holograms of him and why her heart almost beat out of her chest that day in the bazaar. She still dreamed of him. Her body still responded to the thought of him. Hearing his voice still sent chills down her spine. She still loved him, but she never wanted to admit it.

“Fine?” Chidi asked as he and his wife shared a hopeful glance.

“Yes, fine, you’re right. Happy?” tears came to her eyes, and as hard as she tried to keep them from falling she eventually lost the battle. She hadn’t allowed herself to feel the loss after the breakup, and it was all catching up to her right there in front of her family.

She sobbed on Bisa's shoulder and Chidi wrapped them both in an embrace while Binta rubbed circles on Ashanti’s back and Kwame held her hand. All four of them were relieved to see her finally come to terms with her emotions. They had been concerned that she seemingly blocked out that whole chapter of her life, not sure if it was due to the trauma or the heartbreak or both. Her time in therapy had focused on getting her through the trauma of what happened to her, and barely even touched her breakup. All she had done was lock her feelings in the basement and throw away the key, but they were still there and just as strong as ever.

After a few minutes Ashanti pulled herself together and looked at the people around her.

“I love you all so much,” she was able to get out through her tears and snot. Chidi grabbed some tissue and wiped her face.

“We love you too,” they all responded.

_______

After that day, Ashanti found herself thinking about T’Challa a little more than usual...ok a lot more than usual. Everything she saw reminded her of him, and it was starting to weigh on her. She still felt the same way about being with him, but she missed him more than she could say. Eventually she got the idea to give him a call. She talked herself out of and back into the idea for several weeks, and one day just said “Fuck it” and pressed his contact on her beads. She never got around to deleting it.

The trilling sound that followed filled her with dread. What if he didn’t pick up? What if she’s blocked or he changed his beads? 

She didn’t have time to go too far down that rabbit hole because the trilling stopped and her ex boyfriend appeared in the palm of her hand. They both stared at each other in silence before T’Challa spoke.

“Miss Ashanti, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

She was saddened by his formality but stunned by the smoky timbre of his voice. She had missed it so much.

“H-hi, how are you?”

“I am well, how are you?”

“I’m doing ok.”

“Just ok?”

“Yeah, just ok…” Ashanti trailed off, leading to a long silence between the two. 

“Ashanti, is there something you need?”

“Oh, um, no not really. I just-,” she sighed, “You crossed my mind a couple times and something told me to reach out so I did.”

A small smile appeared on the king’s face.

“Just a couple times? I’m disappointed.”

She laughed, a sound he hadn’t had the pleasure of hearing in over a year, forcing his crooked smile to grow larger.

“Ok maybe a few times,” she said, while smiling back. 

“But seriously,” her voice softened, “how are you T’Challa?”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up when she said his name, but he wasn’t surprised she still had that effect on him since it happened every time he thought of her. He wanted to answer her honestly, he really did, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her about his drinking problem and stint in rehab a few months ago. He went back and forth on the decision for a few moments before making up his mind.

“I am well now, it has been an uphill battle.”

“I know what you mean,” Ashanti replied before they both just stared at each other in silence for a moment. “Well, I um, I know you're busy, and I didn’t really want anything so I don’t want to keep y-”

“We’re going to be late, baby,” Ashanti was cut off by a gorgeous woman in a red dress entering the room behind T’Challa. She hadn’t even noticed that he was talking to anyone, barely looking up from her beads as she walked back out of the room. T’Challa cleared his throat.

“Unfortunately you caught me at a bad time, tonight-”

“That’s ok! Uh, have fun!” she panicked and ended the call. 

“Why would you just hang up like that?” she asked herself out loud before flopping back onto her bed.

After that embarrassment, she doesn't know if she’ll ever be able to talk to him again. Of all the different ways she imagined that conversation going she never accounted for the fact that he could have already moved on to someone else. She knew it was selfish and hypocritical since she had been with Zane, but something about the idea of him with anyone else made her blood boil and tears come to her eyes. She let a couple fall before getting up and going on about her day.

Late that night as she laid in bed scrolling through her social media she came across an article about the king’s 30th birthday celebration on the 9th. It was open to the public, and for a moment she considered going, but then she remembered the silky, high pitched voice emanating from behind T’Challa and decided against it. She’d rather not have to feel that embarrassment in public. Ashanti shut off her beads and closed her eyes, letting sleep take her for the night.

-------

The drummers were extra hype today, playing their hearts out as all of Wakanda danced and celebrated their king’s birthday. As they partied into the early morning T’Challa spent the whole time glued to his girlfriend Tamala, the Mining tribe princess. She had a habit of being clingy and wouldn’t allow anyone else to steal a dance. Around 1 in the morning, he had finally had enough and excused himself to go to the restroom. Making his way out of the venue, he caught the eye of someone he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Kwame?”

“My king,” he saluted T’Challa, but he waved him off.

“Please, you know me.”

“Better safe than sorry. Happy birthday man!”

“Thank you, thank you. Are you here alone?” T’Challa’s eyes scanned the crowd.

“No, I'm here with the usual people,” Kwame said, smirking in the king’s direction.

“So Ashanti is…”

“Over in the back corner avoiding you and the aggressive supermodel on your arm,” he took a sip of his rum punch. 

“I can understand that,” the king and Kwame stood there awkwardly, not knowing how to continue the conversation.  “It was good seeing you Kwame.”

“You too!”

The two quickly parted ways and Kwame ran straight to his friends at the table they had commandeered in the back. He sat down on Omar’s lap and told Ashanti of his interaction with the king, leaving out that he told him where to find her. Ashanti noticed Omar’s hands make their way around Kwame’s waist and she wished she could feel the king’s arms around her like that one more time. 

“I knew I shouldn't have come here, why did I let you two talk me into this? He has a girlfriend already.”

“Because your man knows how to throw a damn party!” Binta slurred a little, very obviously teetering between tipsy and drunk. Ashanti rolled her eyes at her ‘your man’ comment but agreed, looking around at all the happy partygoers. She sighed, wishing she could enjoy herself like they were. 

On his way to the restroom T’Challa was stopped by not one, not two, but three separate elders commenting on how good he and Tamala looked together and asking about marriage plans. T’Challa knew the council was anxious for him to get married and produce heirs, but no matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn’t see it with Tamala. She had everything he was looking for, but she was missing a special something. More like she’s not that special someone. She’s not her.

For the rest of the night, T’Challa avoided the elders and slyly kept his eye on Ashanti and her friends. He was mesmerized by her colorful curve-hugging jumpsuit and her natural hair that had grown much longer in the year they’d been apart. Her shoulders seemed to glow and her deep purple lipstick drew his eyes to her lips. His eyes travelled down her body, noticing that she had kicked off her shoes and he smiled fondly, remembering her disdain for heels. She looked up and caught him staring more than once, but he just couldn't stop. Everytime she caught him she’d quickly look away, too embarrassed to hold his gaze. His staring angered Tamala who also caught him staring more than once.

“Do you know her?” Tamala asked with an attitude, standing in his line of vision. T’Challa rolled his eyes because he sensed another argument coming. Tamala was a lot of wonderful things, but jealousy was her worst quality, hands down. He had never been one to have a wandering eye when he was with a woman, so normally her jealousy annoyed him to no end. However, this time he understood where she was coming from. 

“Yes, I do. She’s an old friend.”

“A ‘friend’ huh? Do you think I’m stupid?”

“Tamala, please, not here. This is a celebration, try to be happy. For me, please.” 

The Mining tribe princess rolled her eyes and stormed off, shoulder checking Prince N’Jadaka on the way.

“Yo, me and your girl are gonna fight fight one of these days. Like, for real,” he said as he walked up to his cousin.

T’Challa chuckled as he sipped some more of his non-alcoholic ginger beer. 

“Let's go for a walk in the gardens,” he requested and the prince obliged. N’Jadaka pulled out a pre-roll and lit the tip, passing it to his cousin. “She’s upset because Ashanti is here.”

“Oh! She is, huh? Interesting...I’m surprised she showed.”

“I’m not,” he handed the blunt back to the prince, “she called me the other day. It was a very short conversation but...I still felt something and I think she did too. She looks good, really good. She asked how I had been but I couldn't really tell her the truth... She seems like she’s gotten so much better since the last time I saw her.”

The two walked in silence for a couple minutes passing the blunt back and forth before N’Jadaka broke the silence. 

“So you still love her?”

T’Challa didn’t even have to hesitate.

“Of course, I never stopped.”

---------

The next day, Ashanti and her roommates were all laying in the living room nursing hangovers while they half watched an old classic Wakandan movie. Ashanti was sick to her stomach, but she couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the sappy love story she was forced to watch. After it was over, Binta pulled up the news and right as the meteorologist finished explaining the upcoming weather patterns, a huge picture of T’Challa and Tamala kissing took over the screen. Bile rose in her stomach as Binta scrambled to change the channel. Before she could, Ashanti heard the anchor say the very words she dreaded hearing, “Could there be a royal engagement on the horizon?” 

Binta turned the hologram off altogether, and the three of them sat in silence for a while until Kwame couldn’t take it anymore.

“Are you ok?”

“I will be, it’s just rough right now. I’m happy he found somebody though, they look happy.”

Neither twin wanted to pry so they left it at that and changed the subject to food.

“I’m hungry, but I don’t feel like cooking.” Binta said in a huff, throwing herself back into the couch..

“Mood,” Kwame and Ashanti replied. 

“Ooh how about I grab some food from my parents? They’ve been wanting me to stop by,” Ashanti offered. 

“Bast bless you, my child.” Binta grabbed her hand and kissed it.

Ashanti threw her shoes on and was out the door in no time flat. She needed to get out of the house and clear her head. They looked so happy…

She was on autopilot when she reached the restaurant, barely even shooting a glance towards Taj’s before immediately heading back home. Chidi and Bisa could tell there was something bothering her, but chose not to pry.

Almost a week passed by with her being forced to see the new “it” couple everywhere she turned. It was starting to get to her so she called Jamila for a session, which turned into Ashanti seeing her on the regular. After a couple more months she no longer felt weighed down by her seemingly unrequited feelings for T’Challa and was genuinely ready to move on. She even downloaded a dating app on her beads and started meeting new people. Nothing really came of it, but she enjoyed herself nonetheless. Ashanti threw herself back into work, mostly focusing on her commissions while her employees handled Taj’s. Princess Shuri had spread the word about the artist after she received her necklace and since then Ashanti’s business had been booming. Everybody from farmers to nobility was knocking down her door for a custom piece. She even made a necklace for Shani, Chieftess of the Jabari. thAll was going well in Ashanti’s life and her therapy sessions were working, so when she saw the news of the royal engagement she allowed the grief to wash over her before shaking it off and going on about her day. On the other side of Birnin Zana, King T’Challa sighed as he watched the media coverage. He knew she was out there somewhere having to see it and he pushed back against the feeling of guilt that often tried to overcome him. He had to do it, though. He had been pushing the council to allow immigration into Wakanda and they just wouldn’t budge, just like he hadn’t budged on the issue of betrothal. It wasn’t until he announced to them that he had plans to marry Tamala that the council started to see things his way. This way everybody would be happy. He would be able to open up Wakanda more to the Lost Tribe, and they would have a queen and hopefully, soon after, an heir to the throne. A week later the news leaked to the press somehow and it quickly became all anyone could talk about.

During his weekly visits to the Merchant tribe T’Challa tended to avoid the Bazaar for fear of running into Ashanti, but this time he decided to venture in. People greeted him as he walked through, perusing the merchandise, and stopping periodically to chat. This is why he loved coming there, everyone was always so cheerful and bright. He had crouched down to talk to a nine year old girl who wanted his attention, and on his way back up he saw a woman in a purple headwrap walking out of a storefront, going in the opposite direction. He would’ve recognized that walk anywhere. T’Challa wanted to call out to her, but didn’t want to embarrass her or start a scandal. He watched her turn the corner and disappear from his sight. The king said goodbye to the little girl and her baba before heading off in the same direction she went, almost leaving his Doras in the dust. When he rounded the corner he stopped abruptly at the absolute vision staring right back at him. She was in shock, obviously not expecting to run into her newly engaged ex.

“T’Challa, h-hi.”

“Hi,” he said back, wanting to kick himself for not being more articulate.

“Um, congratulations on your engagement. I saw the news, well, everywhere.”

“Oh, uh, Thank you.”

“What brings you down here?”

“Just my usual weekly rounds.”

“Oh yeah, I remember those.” She smiled at the memory and his heart thumped a little louder in his chest at the sight. “You always looked forward to Mondays just for that…”

“I still do.”

They both awkwardly stood there, neither one of them saying what’s on their mind.

“Well, I uh, I have to go open up the store. I’ll see you around T’Challa.”

There was so much that he wanted to say, but he just couldn’t get it out. Being in her presence again after so long had him freezing up, something he never did.

She saluted him and winked before turning around and heading towards Taj’s. He couldn’t help but watch her hips twitch as she walked away and something told him she knew he was watching. She did.

Next Chapter

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@maddeningmayhem, @theblulife