#came to enjoy her and her combat over time to successfully bring her home on her rerun. yea the IPC aint the best kind of

[revserrayyu]

One HSR Character a Day Day 46: Topaz and Numby

[b0rista]

— 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑.

WARNINGS: light angst & swearing.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: he's one of my ultimate favorite snk characters, and i needed to cleanse my page of the heavy ass warrior content djjfjf.

"you're either a blessing, or you're a lesson. either or, you and i met for a reason."

with all of the gore and the misfortune that comes with your livelihood, it's connie that gets you through it.

as expected, you first fell in love with him for his humor. not for the humor itself, but for how it shed the smallest flicker of joy upon a heaping tower of despair— as soldiers, you needed that. fortunately, he was the one that brought it to the table. even during your days as cadets, connie lived to make you laugh. hearing a chuckle flutter from your core served as a form of therapy for him, and with time, he grew addicted.

with that being said, he does the stupidest shit in order to get your attention. even when you're together, he'll do what needs to be done. for example, one time, he tried to impress you by doing a trick while saddled up on his horse. in an attempt to twirl like a jackass ballerina, the horse decided that it deserved better, and kicked him clean off its back. at the sight of his 5'2 ass being hoisted eight feet into the air, you nearly choked.

prepare yourself, he's a cuddler. after a particularly hard day's worth of work, connie finds solace in bedding up with you, knowing that you're safe, and with him. he asks that you don't tell anybody, but he actually really enjoys cuddling as the little spoon. to have his head pressed against your chest, his ear to your heartbeat, brings him comfort. of course, he'll never detest to being your big spoon, either. he absolutely loves the feeling of you buried within his touch.

^ if you ever want to go an evening without cuddling, he'll be immediately offended. never, ever, ever will the two of you fall asleep back to back. he simply won't have it, it makes him feel as if something's wrong. and if that is the case, nobody's falling asleep until you've talked about it and successfully sorted it out.

at the beginning of your guys' relationship, everyone worried for you. did he coerce you, y/n? are you being forced? has he threatened you, has he threatened your family? nobody could grasp the fact that connie motherfuckin' springer had managed to pull you.

if there's any sort of sour talk regarding you, no matter how little it is, this man will leap to your defense. one time, jean called your bedhead ugly, and connie propelled a moldy roll of bread into his forehead. in the end, a massive food fight erupted, and you were just standing there with your bedhead like 🧍‍♀️

HOWEVER, there was an instance that actually led to a genuine, real fight between you two as a couple. you'd managed to scuff up your leg during the battle with kenny the ripper and his associates, and when it came down to who was and who wasn't going to tag along for the eren & historia rescue mission, connie belittled you to the team behind your back. not because he actually felt that way, but because he'd do anything to maintain your safety— even if it meant hurting your feelings. telling captain levi that your abilities were inadequate for that particular mission hurt him, but he did what he felt was necessary.

in the end, though, levi saw through the charade. to connie's dismay, you came with to save eren and historia. and during the entire journey, you didn't even utter a word to him. of course, though, during the battle, you put your frustrations aside. once you saw your lover's head nearly get kicked in during combat, you understood his intentions, and you forgave him. as expected, he replied to your forgiveness with humor,, his go-to coping mechanism.

"considering how sexy i looked on the battlefield, i knew you wouldn't be able to resist."

whenever his hair starts to grow out, you're the one that gets to cut it back down! he's able to do it himself, but he really likes it when you do it. you're typically propped up in his lap, sitting face to face as you file down his edges. he always loops his arms around your waist, intently staring you in the face— seeing you so concentrated on his hair, he can't help it.

you wouldn't expect this from connie whatsoever, but he likes it when you read to him. pick a literature of your choice and let him kick back and rest his head onto your lap, pleasE. he'll close his eyes, and for the first time in forever, stay still. the only time he and books ever coexist is when you're reading one to him. he'll also make fun of you whenever you stumble over a sentence,, so get ready.

the day you realize that this motherfucker is nearing six feet tall, you're ready for the holy spirit to whisk you away. literally, you measure his height on the weekly once you realize he just keeps gaining inches. that, and when he starts growing more into his face? lawd, take you now.

"connie, you're getting seXY-"

"what the hell does thaT mE A N-"

many, many proposals. none are meant to be taken seriously, which the both of you know. still, there are far too many proposals between the two of you. one time, you killed a fly midair, and he thought you were the baddest bitch on the block.

"marry me."

another time, he swooped you into the air with his maneuvering gear, and as you held onto him for dear life, you looked him dead in the face: "marry me, you baldheaded bastard."

it can be a reel, how many times the two of you say that bullshit. somehow, it's cute.

he doesn't really take basic boundaries into consideration. like, one time, you caught him using your toothbrush because he couldn't find his. it wasn't fun, you had to give him a serious talking to.

he is, without a doubt, constantly prepared to lay down his life for you on the battlefield. during his time as a soldier, he's grown significantly strong— and once he fell in love with you, he's felt even stronger. not only do you give him drive, but you lend him strength. with that being said, you're somebody he'd die for without even an ounce of hesitation. and knowing him, he's probably made that more than obvious.

when connie's village was destroyed and it was discovered that his entire family was turned into titans, you were one of the only ones to actually comfort him. you were absolutely enraged at how nonchalantly your lover's loss was set aside, and although he'd tried his hardest to conquer the grief alone, it was you who sat at his bedside at night, cradling him in your arms as he wept. never in your life had you seen him so distraught. after that period of time, your relationship with him only deepened in its seriousness. 

as expected, you and sasha spend quite a bit of time together! after all, that's your boyfriend's best friend. given her easygoing nature, it didn't take long for sasha to absolutely adore you. naturally, she wonders how the hell you manage to operate with a boyfriend like that, but she tries not to ask questions.

speaking of the wonder twins, they love getting you in trouble. whenever the two of them think up an astonishingly moronic shenanigan, there's a solid 50/50 chance that you'll be looped into it, too. one time, they purposefully dulled jean's razor, and when he went to shave, it only ended in him splitting his face open due to placing too much pressure. as a joke, those two jackasses carved your initials into the handle. when jean decided that he'd murder you, connie tried playing the hero, lEapiNg to your defense. it was stupid, and it didn't work. you still laugh about it, though.

there have been several jokes regarding starting a family and growing old together— secretly, though, connie doesn't want them to just be jokes.

he stole a stray cat for you. yup, yes he did. the two of you were walking about the city, and you saw a gray-haired sleeping beside a trash bin behind a local vendor. you compared its fur to the color of his hair, calling it cute. out of impulse, connie went back to that exact same vendor later on that day, trapped the cat in a box, and brought it to your doorstep.

his forearms and fingertips were covered in claw marks, but to see your face light up the way that it did, any amount of pain was immediately worth it.

after the nickname that shadis had given connie on the first day of cadet training, you named the kitty q-ball. 🥺

during the season four era, the two of you share a house. at first, captain levi argued against it— "put a pair of horny teenagers in a home together, what do you think is gonna happen?"

y'all said fuck it, and lived together anyways. it's you, him, and your lovely child, q-ball. occasionally jean, too. some nights, he doesn't want to be alone.

eskimo kisses. during the prepping of every single mission, you'll get eskimo kisses. it's a small, loving gesture the two of you do before heading into the battlefield. as a sign of your love, you'll press your foreheads together and rub noses, weapons holstered and ready for combat. it's a serious tradition, and it'll never be ignored.

and after a mission, connie has this habit of pinching your cheeks immediately after rushing towards you. it isn't to be cute, either. it's so that he can scan you, and check you for any harm. basically, it's him squeezing the life out of your face while bombarding you with questions.

expect supremely cheesy pet names! bae, biscuit, buttercup, baby thing, sexy bitch, and so on. if it were anyone else, he would 100% make fun of them. but it's him, therefore adorable.

[amintyworld]

Mentors - Dream SMP Hunger Games AU

A/N: So this started as a one page drabble, then it turned into a six page fic. Oopsies! Anyway this is meant to be a sort of prequel to ‘The Victor’ drabble I submitted over at @dreamsmp-au-ideas, but can be read as stand-alone. Anyway, I wrote this in the span of an entire DAY because I have no self-control when it comes to writing and this AU has sparked some Middle School nostalgia in me. Anyway, hope you enjoy and please check out the blog where the AU idea came from, they’ve given me a LOT of inspiration for fics to write. -Minty

TW: Talk/mention of death, fighting, depression/loss, threats of death, slight insanity. (Tell me if I need to tag anything else!)

Summary: Tommy’s an angry orphan, Wilbur grows a soft spot for Tommy, Sam is the only braincell left in District 7, Tubbo has Dadschlatt and needs a lot of hugs, Phil earned the achievement ‘Oh no Feelings’. 

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

Tubbo intertwined his fingers as he walked with the guards toward the white porcelain-like door. The shock of his name getting pulled hadn’t exactly faded yet, and the dread of the logical conclusion he’d drawn up in his head did not exactly help matters. He knew he was dead - he’d never trained for combat, he wasn’t agile or fast, he knew next to nothing about surviving in the wilderness, or even whatever the Gamemaker threw at him for that matter. His fate was completely sealed the moment that boy with devil horns picked his name out of the bowl. 

He took a breath, his hand on the door handle. Time to say goodbye.

As soon as he shut the door, he could feel his father’s comforting hand on his shoulder. “Hey, kiddo.” His voice was gentle, warm, and kind. Tubbo’s emotions couldn’t help but become unplugged at the voice as tears ran down his cheeks and he clung to his father tightly, afraid to let go. Schlatt wrapped his arms around Tubbo gently, rubbing his back to give him some comfort. “Oh Tubbo, I know kiddo, shhh...”

“I’m so scared, Dad.” Tubbo’s voice wavered as his body shook with sobs, and Schlatt’s heart broke at his son’s voice. 

“I know buddy, I know.” Schatt moved so he could brush his hands through his son’s hair. “But… but you don’t have to be. I know you can do it, I know you can win.” A few tears slipped down Schlatt’s cheek. “You’re so much smarter than any of those meatheads in the Capitol, probably in any other District in Panem. You’re so much stronger than you know, kiddo. I know you can do it. Just survive, I know you can outthink any of them, I know you can win. Just survive, win, and I’ll be waiting right here when you come back, okay?”

“And… and we can finally make s’mores?”

Schlatt’s face broke out into a smile through tears. “Yes, yes we can make as many s’mores as you want! We… we’ll… I’ll show you the bee farms, and I promise I’ll be there every single night for dinner, no more late hours at the office. I swear.” Schlatt’s hands squeezed Tubbo’s shoulders. “But you gotta win and come home, okay?”

Tubbo’s eyes blurred with tears as he scanned his father’s face, words dying in his throat, not knowing what to say. “Dad, I-”

Schlatt pulled him down into another hug as the two wept, holding onto each other for dear life, not daring to let go. Then, a soldier appeared in the doorway. “He’s got a train to catch, Mr. Ram.”

Schlatt breathed deeply, pulling away from the hug to run his hand through his son’s hair one last time, taking in his face as he brushed a bit of hair out of his face. “I…” He bit his lip. “I love you, Tubbo. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“I love you too, Dad.” Tubbo gave a quick hug to his father, wrapping his arms around his neck.

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

When Wilbur was assigned as a mentor for District 7, he was more than a little nervous. The other Victors from Victor’s Row assured him he’d do just fine, but still, he was not exactly looking forward to it. He’d met the escort and advisor a few days ago, someone from the Capitol named Sam. For someone from one of the richest districts in Panem, Sam didn’t exactly dress in high fashion - no bright colors or extravagant hairstyles. Instead, he simply wore a clean formal vest and slacks. He gave Wilbur the firmest handshake he’d ever been given in his entire life, and despite the situation seemed almost cheerful. 

If he remembered correctly, he was supposed to settle in his personal car on the train and meet Sam in the dining car. Sam seemed to have every detail of their trip planned out perfectly, which Wilbur more than appreciated. He was already dealing with enough as it was having to mentor two kids and try to get them sponsors while basically reliving the worst time in his entire life. Ths screams, the blood… the memories were… they were not good.

They called him insane, unstable. The One Who Went Mad. When he used to panic and whimper and mutter to himself, they used to laugh at him. They thought what he’d been through, the things that he’s seen, and the nightmares that plagued him were nothing more than a funny joke. They loved his pain and suffering. Wilbur didn’t like when they laughed at him like some stupid monkey in a cage. That’s why he preferred to just stay home most of the time. But at this point mentorship was unavoidable, it was under Capitol orders.

It was a bit early before he was due to meet up with Sam in the dining car, and he craved a cup of black coffee. His mind whirred a bit from the familiar fancy train cars, and he needed something to clear his mind from remembering. When he opened the door, however, he didn’t expect to see one of the tributes already here this early. From his blond messy hair and his bright blue eyes, he assumed this was Tommy, the boy. Wilbur held up his hand to show he meant to harm before he moved past the teen sat near the window towards the tea cart, fiddling with the french press. Successfully pouring the pitch-black liquid in a very expensive looking teacup, he cradled it in his hands as he moved to sit across from the teenage boy, still focused on the train station outside the window. “Uh, interesting view?”

Tommy looked over at him for a moment, eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Something like that.”

Wilbur sipped the bitter coffee thoughtfully. He took a breath before speaking. “You know, you’re allowed to say goodbye to your friends and family in the Governor’s office, if one of the Peacekeepers made a mistake I’m sure there’s still time for you to…”

“No.” The teenager’s voice seemed firm, staring out of the window. “They didn’t make a mistake.” 

“Uh, well…” Wilbur felt the awkward tension in the room rise. “You are a… bit early, we don’t leave for another half-hour…”

“Well, I didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go. No one to say goodbye to, so I guess they just skipped that part for convenience.” He looked almost angry as he turned back to Wilbur. “Do you mind maybe not staring at me?”

“I’m trying to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” Tommy snapped. “You shouldn’t just start up a conversation just because you feel bored. I’m not paid to be your fucking entertainment.”

Add this to the number of reasons Wilbur didn’t want to be a mentor - teenagers. This kid certainly had a mouth on him. 

Wilbur’s eyes narrowed in anger as he gripped his teacup, trying his best to stay calm. “Well, whether you like it or not, you’re all of Panem’s entertainment now.” Wilbur quipped as he moved to walk away. “So maybe you should learn to be a bit more likable.”

As he began to walk across the car to move toward a table in the corner of the room, he felt a heavy weight on his back as he lost his grip on his cup as it landed on the metal ground of the car with a loud crash, the coffee staining the expensive carpets. He felt punches on his back and head as someone tried to pin him down. Wilbur sighed in frustration. With ease, he jabbed Tommy’s side, putting him off balance, and flipped the kid over, grabbing his arm and pulling it behind his back. Tommy struggled against Wilbur’s grip, angry. He could see tears in the teenager’s eyes as he practically growled at Wilbur. “Take it back you bitch! Get off of me and fight! Take it back or I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” Tommy’s anger slowly disappeared as he began to cry, his body shaking as he sucked in breaths, slowly realizing what exactly he said. “I’ll… I’ll…” Wilbur’s heart couldn’t help but ache at the sight of the poor kid, bringing back memories of that time, that feeling of being trapped.

The door at the other end of the train car flew open, to reveal Sam and the girl tribute from the Reaping, Sarah. “Wilbur, what are you doing?” Sam questioned as Wilbur quickly got off of Tommy, holding out his hand for the teenager to take. 

“Uh, right.” As Tommy’s eyes met Wilbur’s the mentor noticed how they scanned across his face, confused at Wilbur’s sudden change from annoyance to kindness. Wilbur smiled slightly. “Let’s save the real fighting for the arena, yeah?” Tommy hesitated before taking Wilbur’s hand as he helped him up, getting even more confused as he quickly wiped off his tear-stained cheeks.

“Sarah Teller and Tommy Innit, meet your Mentor, Wilbur Soot.”

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

Tubbo formally met his other tribute mate, a girl he knew from those fancy business dinners Schlatt would host - he never really talked with her much then, but it was nice to see a familiar face, that was for sure. Her name was Crystal.

They arrived and settled in without much really going on. Their advisor, the one with the devil horns a few hours earlier was their advisor, Bad. They were very confused at first why anyone would name their child that, until Bad insisted it was a nickname for ‘Badboy’… Tubbo couldn’t say he didn’t believe the advisor with some of the fancy and absurd names that seemed so popular in the richer districts. “Now, the best part is that even though you are both chosen as tributes, you’ll be able to see all the Capitol can offer before you’re in the arena. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”

“I guess it’ll be kind of cool to see the Capitol.” Crystal agreed as she took a sip of a fruitful smelling juice of some kind. Her eyes furrowed as if she was focusing intently on the next words out of her mouth. “I mean, this year economy-wise wasn’t particularly the best for them, seeing as their main exports have been plagued with attacks. It’ll be interesting to see how they fair under unseemly conditions.”

“E...Economy?” Tubbo asked in a silent question to his fellow tribute, whose face flushed in embarrassment. 

“My father is the head of exports for District 3. Knowing about stocks and stuff is kind of his thing… then, I guess, it became my thing.” Crystal shrugged, and Tubbo thoughtfully bit into a buttered crust of bread. “I don’t really think that’ll be too helpful in the Games, though.”

“Speaking of the Games, where’s that old man… I told him to meet us here almost an hour ago.” Bad thoughtfully added with a sigh. “He’s going to miss dinner completely if he doesn’t hurry up.”

Almost as if on cue, the car door slid open, and in walked a tall broad blonde-haired man who looked completely mentally checked out. He yawned as he reached over the table to grab an apple and one of Bad’s homemade muffins from the basket. He looked over to the two kids and gave them a slight smile and a two-fingered salute as if to say ‘hi’. “Crystal, Tubbo, this is Phil Craft, your Mentor,” Bad said, quickly gesturing to the man, anger bubbling to the surface. “Phil, where have you been?” Bad demanded, leaning over to snatch the muffin out of Phil’s hand. “No muffins until you eat actual food! We’re in District Two tomorrow and they expect us up and ready by 9 am sharp-!”

“Alright, alright! Stop freaking out, okay?” Phil pinched his nose in annoyance, turning his gaze to look over at the two teenagers again. Phil met Tubbo’s eyes and smirked. “Also, you said I needed real food?” Phil threw the apple up into the air as it caught wind on his arm, traveling over his shoulder blades and taking off of his opposite hand, landing in his mouth as he sunk his teeth into the apple flesh. “That count?” He asked between chewing as Tubbo and Crystal couldn’t help but smile and laugh, clapping to applaud Phil’s trick.

“You bail on us for a whole hour, show up to eat a single apple, and then got back to your little hermit hut?!” Bad’s voice raised slightly. “What do you even do in there that’s more important than this, huh??”

Phil’s playful smile dropped for a moment, replaced with something more melancholy as Bad clearly struck a nerve. There was a tense moment of silence before Phil resumed his happy persona. “Well, I didn’t mean to be a bother and disrupt your dinner. Now that I have my apple and my muffin, I’ll take my leave.” He looked over to the two tributes. “I’ll see both of you in the morning.” Phil smiled before quickly exiting the room once more, leaving a slightly irritated Bad, and two very off-put tributes.

Tubbo couldn’t sleep. The day’s events weighed too heavy on his mind - the Reaping, saying goodbye to his father, dealing with the thoughts of his own inevitable fate. He missed Schlatt’s warm embrace, he missed how his father ruffled up his hair just in the right way to say ‘I’m proud of you, kid.’ He missed home and its faint smell of motor oil and coal from the factories that always seemed to seep in through the windows and cracks in the walls just right. He didn’t feel safe here, he was in one of the fanciest bedrooms on a train that he knew he’d never be able to get a ticket for years, and yet nothing about this place felt safe.

He was being chased by something, something with claws and teeth that whispered nothing but death. But Tubbo didn’t want to die. Even if he knew it was his fate, Tubbo did not want to die. So he ran, his legs quickly getting sore and tired from overuse, yet he pushed on. He heard whispers in his ears, taunting him, laughing at his pathetic escape. Tears ran down Tubbo’s eyes as he pressed his hands over his ears and continued to run, something pinned him to the ground, claws sinking into his back as he whimpered in pain. A chill ran down his spine as the monster growled close to Tubbo’s ear. His heartbeat quicker as he begged, no pleaded to whatever was out there, please please I just want to live-!

He awoke with a start, looking around, tears streaming down his face as his body shook with an adrenaline rush. His hands found their way over his heart, making sure he was still alive as arms wrapped around him, shushing him and holding him close. “Woah there, Woah there… it’s okay, it’s okay. It was just a nightmare, it wasn’t real, shhh…” The panic in Tubbo’s chest slowly quieted as he wrapped his arms around the person, needing comfort desperately. The figure seemed startled for a moment before brushing back some of Tubbo’s hair out of his eyes. Tubbo looked at the figure for a moment, confused.

“Phil?”

“Hey mate.” Phil smiled warmly. “That was quite the nightmare, yeah? You were flopping around like a fish out of water.”

“But…” Tubbo sniffed, pulling away to wipe away his tears. “But why? How?”

“You sounded like you were in physical pain, I was worried. Can’t have a tribute dead before they even get to the arena, you know. Would really throw off the whole schedule.” Phil half-joked as he looked down at the mattress, not being able to meet Tubbo’s eyes at that moment. Tubbo’s gaze was focused on his mentor.

“Why’d you help me, we just met today for like two seconds at most-”

“It doesn’t really matter that much, I was just passing by-!” Phil dismissed quickly before Tubbo’s tone got more serious.

“Phil, if you’re going to be my Mentor you’ve gotta at least tell me the truth. I need you to tell me the absolute truth when it comes to this because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, what I’m up against, how I’m even supposed to survive, but you do. I need you if I ever stand even a chance of getting home. Please.” Phil let out a frustrated sigh.

“You reminded me of my son, that’s all. When he used to be a tribute.” Phil said, looking toward the ground. “He’d have nightmares, he was so scared but I told him I’d never leave his side, so when he got picked I went with him as his Mentor.” Phil sucked on his cheek. “I thought that if I went with him, talked him through it, got every single sponsor I could, he’d…” Phil sighed. “I just didn’t want for you to have to deal with the nightmare alone, no one should have to handle everything alone.” Moving off his bed, he looked over. “I’ll be across the hall, okay?”

“Oh...Okay.” Tubbo said, nodding. “Thanks.”

Phil nodded back as he turned and Tubbo saw Phil’s hand move toward his chest quickly, was he putting his hand over his heart or something…? As Phil moved toward the door, one question stood on Tubbo’s mind, he bit his lip for a moment, considering. 

“Phil, wait-!” Phil turned around, and Tubbo saw Phil’s hand wrap around a necklace of some kind he didn’t notice before, in the shape of a heart. “Did… did he survive? Your son?”

A tense silence followed.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Phil said. “No more questions, you need to get some sleep.”

[eloquent-vowel]

Part 2 "I am" Bucky x OFC (#043)

Description: #043 is Dr. Leeb's greatest success. He took immense pride in raising her to be the perfect combatent and it was finally time for her skills to be put to use. His only worry is bringing outside variables into his perfect equation but when the heads of Hydra give you orders, you follow them. #043 is sent on her first mission and things do not go as planned.

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Slow burn, very much a slow burn. Bucky Barnes x OFC, Winter Soldier X OFC.

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Here is the second part of #043's story! I'm sorry there is no Bucky yet but I can promise that he will be coming in soon! (I did say that this would be a slow burn). Enjoy! <3

Part 1

Dr. Leeb sniffed again, those damn cleaning products always set him off, he had tried his damn hardest to get used to the smell of the sterile facilities but even after thirteen years his nose would not stop running, it was so embarrassing. Especially at a time like this, when he was in conference with the very head of Hydra. They had contacted his lab about using #043 in the field, he had agreed without hesitation- he knew his project was ready and he could hardly contain his excitement as the General laid out the mission briefing. It was finally time to show the whole of Hydra just what he could achieve, they would finally respect his mind.

"Dr. Leeb we have read your reports, #043, code name Eris, sounds very promising. Can you back up your claims?" The man known as The General spoke, his voice although tinny through the speakers of his office carried a deep undertone of threat. If Dr. Leeb was not sweating before he was now, he had rehearsed for this moment all he had to do was speak. He cleared his throat, sniffed and dapped at his forehead with his handkerchief.

"Well, General." He cursed his voice for coming out higher than normal. "As you know former experiments for the Eris project came up negative but #043 is different, whether this is due to her age or her biology I do not know, there is a possibilty-"

"Dr. Leeb, cut to the chase, what can she do?"

"Ah, right" He loosened his tie a bit, were the fans even working in here? "Yes, #043 is the perfect blend between technology and humanity. She arrived to us in a... less than ideal state this has meant that her left leg had to be amputated above the knee and her right leg was amputated below the knee, her legs were replaced with advanced prosthetics, based upon the Winter Soldier project. These were replaced to grow with her, it was a marvel really how we managed to make them grow perfectly wi-"

"Doctor!"

"Ah, sorry, yes, well. These legs allow her to run faster than the average human being, she has reached over speeds of 60mph - this of course is helped with the super soldier serum that she has adapted to perfectly. The serum, of course, has made her taller, stronger and altogether better. She is only 16 and has already grown to be 6 feet tall, it is likely that she can grow more, she can lift her body weight easily. She has also received the benefits of advanced healing, there has yet to be an injury that has not healed within the day. #043 is trained in Muay Thai, Judo, Comat Sambo to name a few, she has mastered firearms and the use of close combat weaponry- being most proficient in the use of brass knuckles. Her senses are enhanced by the serum have given her a great skill in prediction. She is brutal, cold and most importantly, loyal to Hydra."

Dr. Leeb nervously pushed up his glasses, it was impossible to read what The General was feeling. The man's face was eternally stuck in a position of serious anger- it was rather intimidating.

"This sounds promising Dr. Leeb. I read that she was trained intellectually as well?"

"Yes, yes #043 can speak Russian, English, German, Chinese, Japanese, French, Romanian and Spanish fluently and has been taught how to use the most advanced technologies. Her physical training has always taken priority, however, but I can assure you General that if you have a wall to break through she can do it."

There was a beat of silence as the General seemed to mull something over, there was a rustle of paper on the other side of the monitor. Dr. Leeb took in some deep breaths as he waited for the General to say something, dabbing at his forehead once more to try and get rid of the sweat dripping down his brow.

"Is it true, Dr. Leeb, that you believe she could take out the Winter Soldier?"

"Yes." Dr. Leeb answered without hesitation. "We are waiting for confirmation from the scientist on the Winter Soldier project but we are scheduling for them to meet. Remember she is has yet to reach full maturation, there is no doubt that she could best the Soldier when she is fully formed, we just wish to... encourage her to see him as a threat and enemy."

"Your faith is evident, Leeb, very well, here is the details of the mission- if she fails it will be on your head Doctor."

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

#043 was training, as usual, she was in the middle of combat training facing of against a large group of hydra soldiers. While she knew she could defeat them one on one, having six of them attack at the same time was proving much more difficult. It was practically impossible to dodge and block every hit coming her way, much less think about landing a punch. She currently unarmed so at least two hits on vital areas would be necessary to knock one soldier unconscious. As she was dodging she began to form a plan, she would have to spread the soldiers out, she could tackle one down and run through them but they would see that coming a mile away, she could try throwing one away but that would take far too much time. There was only one option left, to jump.

#043 stopped dodging and planted her feet, she doubled her efforts to block incoming blows and began to tense her knees. The mechanical legs clanked and whirred as the cogs inside them tightened- the only warning any of the soldiers got was the hissing of hydraulics as #043 released the tension within her legs and shot straight over the heads of the group of soldiers. She twisted in the air and landed heavily in the ground with a loud cracking sound as the concrete broke below her. She was now facing the bewildered looking group of soldiers, she smirked, as they began to run to her. Just as they reached her she jumped once more, landing right at the back by the slowest member. They were down in two swift blows to their kidney's and temple. This unfair game of cat and mouse continued until it was only two soldiers remaining.

The following fight was easy to her. One of the soldiers was taken out by a high kick to the head from her left leg and a solid stomp to the sternum cracking numerous ribs and collapsing his chest. The other was simply ended by a push kick to the chest to put them off balance and #043 swiftly grabbed one of their legs and threw them into the far wall where they impacted with a harsh thud, leaving a rather large dent in the plaster. #043 drew in a deep breath and relaxed, letting her hands fall to her sides just as the voice of Dr. Leeb entered the sandpit.

"Well done, #043! You continue to improve day by day." She felt her eye twitch as he sniffed once more. "I have some good news for you, you are to go outside."

"Outside?" Her voice was gravelly from lack of use.

"Yes, you are about to go on your first mission, it is a rather simple one mind you- I think the General is just trying to test me with this- I have no doubt that you will succeed with flying colours, you are my perfect equation."

"What will I have to do?"

"You are to infiltrate the home of a Mr. Hugo Malet, a prominent figure in the arms trade. Hydra has a target on his head and you, my dear, have the honour of being the gun who aims for it." Dr. Leeb began walking away, gesturing for #043 to follow. She eyed her trainer waiting for permission. The stern woman just gave a nod and #043 was off walking just behind Dr. Leeb, peering over his shoulder to the files he held in his hand. He continued to brief her all the way to his office.

"Mr. Malet here has a holiday chalet in the French Alps, a rather modest six bedroom, five bathroom ordeal, wholly unnecessary for his family of four but if you have the money. Such a shame he got that money by selling weapons to the wrong people. Here." Dr. Leeb sat in his desk chair before sliding the file over to #043. "Look at him, memorise his face, his family is meant to join him in the chalet in a week but if there are any others witness you must eliminate them as well- do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Repeat it to me."

"Hugo Malet, Chalet, French alps, no witnesses, no traces left behind."

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

In the helicopter over to the Alps #043 did not know who was more nervous, her or Dr. Leeb who had insisted on monitoring the mission in person. The plan was simple, she would parachute down to the drop zone two miles away from the chalet and run to the chalet where, under the cover of night, #043 would erase the traitors.

"T-10 mins until deployment."

The announcement over the intercom spurred her into action, she began triple checking her harness and parachute, placed the night vision goggles over her eyes and ensured that the mask covering the lower half of her face was secure. Once she was sure she was ready she took her position. The side door opened to reveal the pitch black, snowy exterior of the alps, the temperature was immediately freezing . Dr. Leeb piped up behind her.

"Do not disappoint me #043, once this goes successfully the Eris project will be a reality. You know what will happen if you fail."

#043 shivered at the threat, memories enclosed walls, electric chairs and sore flesh flickering in her mind and with a single nod she jumped.

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

The run to the chalet had been uneventful and soon the chalet was in view. There was a warm glow coming from within and through the window #043 could see the figure of her target walking around the lower floors.

"Status report" The voice of Dr. Leeb crackled through her earpiece.

"Target sighted, moving to engage."

Armed only with a silenced pistol and her brass knuckles she moved stealthily through the pine trees until she found the backdoor. Much to her joy it was unlocked and she entered silently. There was the faint sound of some sort of soft music playing in the front room, following the noise she crept towards the slightly ajar door down the corridor.

She entered the room, pistol first, to see Hugo Malet sipping wine on the couch, sitting in front of the fireplace a woman - presumably his wife- under his arm. Without hesitation #043 shot both figures through the back of the head, killing them instantly. She approached the bodies, turning them both over to confirm their identities.

"Target is dead, his wife also."

"Great job, #043, no witnesses. Return to Location Alpha"

#043 stared at the two bodies for too long. They were slumped, still cuddled against one another, their eyes dull and lifeless. If it wasn't for the bullet hole through their foreheads'. Their lives had so easily been ended, they had not even seen it coming. She had taken lives before, but they had always been fighting her- it was her or them. This was new, the easy kills. The easy killing felt wrong, she felt wrong, her hands began to shake. Her mask began to feel too tight, the air in the room was too dense for her to breathe- desperately she made her way to the window- opening it to let the fresh air hit her face.

"Mummy? Daddy? Can I have some hot chocolate?"

#043 froze, the voice was high pitched, a child's voice, her head turned in horror to watch the door to the front room open and the Malet's youngest son enter the room. His face immediately creased into confusion, too young to understand why his parents were slumped, motionless on the couch. He was so small. #043 knew about the concept of children, she was certain she herself must have been one at some point, but she had never realised how small they are. This one must have only reached her knees, his small arms were reaching for his parent's until he caught #043 in his sight. She slowly raised her pistol.

"Who are you?" The small child asked

"I am..." she stuttered, who was she? A number? How old was she? Was she once this child, this small, this helpless, this clueless, this... innocent? The boy's eyes shone with tears and fear.

"Are you a friend of Daddy's?"

Such innocence, so small, every fibre of #043's being was screaming at her- no witnesses- but her hand was shaking, her hands never shook, there was some p[art of her that refused to harm this child. The longer she looked into his eyes the farther down she pointed her pistol.

"I am..."

But if she left this child alive she would be put in that chair again, she would be hit and placed in that tiny room, she would be a failure and Dr. Leeb would be disappointed in her. She slowly began to walk towards the small child who simply looked up at her, wide eyed and teary.

"Who..." The child's voice faded away as #043 was looked directly down at him.

"I am... Eris."

With that Eris hit the child over the head with the butt of her pistol , enough to knock him unconscious but not enough to kill him, then fired a shot into the ground by his head, she hoped that an ambulance would arrive soon. She took a deep breath before climbing out the window, leaving the crime scene behind.

"Returning to Location Alpha, No witnesses remain."

Part 3

[the-girl-in-the-box]

Can You Imagine? I

Summary: Freydis was dead. At least, when she’d lost consciousness, she’d been sure she was. But now she has woken up in a cold, sterile environment, one she is certain is not Valhalla, and the world as she once knew it has changed. People now have strange abilities, some of them, and people they call ‘scientists’ are trying to give them to her. The bigger issue, though, is the fact they have also woken the very man who killed her. Ivar the Boneless lives again as well, in the same way Freydis does, and if they want to survive... she may have to learn to trust him again.

A/N: As you can see from the summary above, I have... had a very strange idea. But! It’s one I look forward to exploring, and this is an AU of a sort that will be revealed as the story progresses :) If you have any ideas what the AU is exactly, I’d love to hear them! Otherwise, I would also love to hear any other feedback, and I hope you enjoy! Please reach out with DMs, reblogs, or asks if you’d like to be added to the taglist, which will be at the end of the post. Skål!

Warnings: Hospital-like environments, mad science, injections, human experimentation, etc. Google translated Norwegian and German, and Old Norse in Italics!

Masterlist

—

The World Turned Upside Down

The first thing Freydis noticed was the bright lights overhead, even if she didn’t know how they were so bright. She shut her eyes against them, and moved her arm to cover her face in an attempt to block them out. When her arm didn’t move, held down by something wrapped around her wrist, her heart lept into her throat. She had thought to wake in Valhalla, to be welcomed by the gods after her sacrifice in saving Kattegat from Ivar the Boneless, facing him with what she had done and still fighting to save her own life from him. But… this could not be Valhalla, she thought.

Wherever she was, it was cold, and almost unnaturally bright. Her eyes finally opened again as her chest rose and fell quickly. She was hyperventilating. Vaguely, she became aware of a strange, high pitched sound that was short and quick. People around her were speaking, she heard their voices, but their words were foreign and unfamiliar to her. It didn’t seem to her this could be Hel either. It didn’t match any description of what she knew from the legends and stories from home.

So… what was this place?

Freydis’s eyes soon adjusted to the bright lights, which she saw were coming from strange spheres, held up by… some sort of disk, on a pole? Her head turned to the side, and she groaned quietly. “Where am I?” she tried to call out. “Who is there?” Her voice was scratchy, and cracked under the attempted volume.

“Hun er våken,” she heard someone say, and she frowned. It sounded vaguely similar to her own language, but not quite familiar enough that she could make it out. She caught the first word, she, so… they were talking about her, weren’t they?

“Who are you?” she tried again.

A door behind her opened, catching her attention and making her quickly turn her head to look. The room began to spin with the speed she’d turned with, and she closed her eyes and swallowed hard.

“God morgen, Freydis,” the voice said, and her eyes opened to see a woman standing in front of her. The woman was dressed like no woman she’d seen before, in a strange white coat that came to her thighs, beyond which Freydis could see she wore loose pants, of a dark shade, and strange shoes which covered the front, sides, and back of her feet, but not the tops. “Ikke vær redd, vi er dine vinner, hm?”

She couldn’t understand enough of the woman’s words to respond, though she could catch not, we, and… friends? Was she saying they weren’t her friends? Her heart jumped again.

“What is happening?” the Viking woman tried to ask. When the woman put what was meant to be a calming hand on her arm, Freydis flinched and tried to jump away. A soft sob left her throat, one she hadn’t even realized had been building. “I don’t know what you want with me,” she started to say, “but please, just let me go. I will not cause you any trouble, I swear it.”

“Shh,” the woman said, beginning to stroke her hair. “Du er trygg her.”

You, and here. She wished they could understand each other, at the least. The woman looked toward the source of the strange sound, and sighed. It’s speed and frequency had increased. “Du er for stresset,” she mumbled. “Du må slappe av.”

“I cannot understand you,” Freydis tried to tell her, but the woman just shook her head.

“Du burde hvile,” she said. “Vi flytter deg til annet rom.”

The woman picked up a strange looking device, like a tube with some liquid in it, a long thing off the tip. Her breaths only became more shallow, more quick, as she brought the thing closer. “What is that?” Freydis asked. The woman didn’t answer, and she pushed the tip to her neck. A sharp pain immediately pierced her skin, and a soft cry came from the Viking woman. Something burned through her under her skin, making her gasp and writhe on the cold surface they had her strapped to.

“Hvil, Freydis,” the woman said. “Du vil føle deg bedre når du våkner igjen.”

The corners of Freydis’s vision were darkening, and she let out a quiet whine as she started to lose consciousness. Her chest ached in the worst way, feeling tight and strained. One last choked sob left her, and she descended into darkness.

—

When Freydis woke the next time, there was still darkness. Her head hurt, and her body felt stiff, but she could move. She was laid in a bed now, blankets laid over her body, her head resting on a pillow. It was better than what she’d been used to as a slave, the straw pallets she slept on, but not what she’d had as a Queen, as Ivar’s wife. The bed was small, with a firm mattress and flat pillow.

She sat up slowly, closing her eyes to combat again the way her head was spinning. Her hand went to her forehead as if that could help, brows creasing. Once she felt more steady, Freydis opened her eyes once again and started to look around, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. There was nothing else in the room, it seemed, aside from her little bed. But that was better than that harsh surface from earlier. The woman rubbed the back of her neck, sighing.

At least now, Freydis could see she was alone. Without that woman in with her, she began to mumble softly to herself- or, really, to the gods. “You gods, you cannot leave me alone here,” she whispered. “Here I know no one, and I have nothing. If I must remain, help me to understand what it is I am to do here, and bring me a companion, so the loneliness will not set in and take my desire to do your will.” She sighed, running her hands over the wall, which felt much like the cold, hard surface she’d been strapped to earlier. It must have been made of the same material.

“I do not doubt that it is my fate to be here,” she continued, “and I will not question your judgement of my fate. I only ask it be made more bearable for me. For your servant, Freydis.”

At that time, she heard a clicking sound, the same sound that before had signalled a door opening. Her heart jumped as she whipped around, looking for whoever may have entered the space. This time, she was joined by a man, one who still dressed in no way she had ever seen. He wore similar pants to the woman, though his shoes covered his whole foot, and he had no strange white coat. Just a long sleeved shirt, a vest over that, and a… strange sort of bow fixed around his neck. What sort of clothing did they have there?

(It should be noted, at this time Freydis had not yet noticed the far stranger garment she wore- an almost nightgown sort of thing that stopped above her knees, and opened down the back except for the three or four places it was tied together.)

“Hei,” he greeted, smiling at her. Freydis lifted a brow in response, and subtly pressed herself closer to the wall. “Snakker du norsk?”

“I… do not fully understand you,” she told him, more confident without being tied down. “I can tell this once you have asked if I speak Norwegian, but only because the words are so similar to my own. But I do not speak your language.”

The man chuckled a little. “So my theory is correct, then,” he said. Her eyes widened as she recognized every word that came out of his mouth. “The Norwegian spoken today is similar to the Old Norse spoken in your time, similar enough much meaning can be understood, but not similar enough for the languages to be interchangeable. Fascinating.”

“What do you mean, ‘the Norwegian spoken today’?” Freydis questioned. “‘The Old Norse spoken in my time’? Hm? I don’t deny I am glad to hear my own language spoken, but you must understand the unnerving situation I find myself in. I do not know where I am, who you are- only that you are not my friends- and it would appear that I am being held captive. All I want, is-”

“Who has told you we are not your friends?” the man interrupted her. “Of course we are your friends. We’re- well, we’re the reason you’re alive, My Lady.”

“That woman who came to me when I was restrained. She said we were not friends. And then she took my consciousness.”

“Yes,” the man confirmed. “You were having a panic attack. We knew there’d be no use talking to you, explaining anything, if you were panicking. My colleague chose to sedate you so we could restore you to a calmer state, and explain then. She does not speak Old Norse, or perhaps she could have calmed you better than she did.”

“Perhaps I should not have been restrained, if calming me was your goal,” she pointed out flatly.

The man’s cheeks turned a slight shade of pink, and her brow lifted. “Perhaps not,” he agreed. “But what we have done with you, has never been done before- not successfully. It has been attempted, but you are the first success.”

His words brought no comfort to Freydis, and her eyes narrowed, her head tilted slightly to the side. “What did you do to me?” she questioned. Her voice had turned more firm than before, losing any of its naturally amicable tone, as she demanded this answer.

“We brought you back to life, of course.”

Everything froze at his words, including Freydis herself. She watched him with wide eyes, her mouth slightly agape, and then she laughed bitterly. “That is a cruel joke. If you want me to believe you have brought me back to life, then I must first have died. But I know I have not died, as I have not seen Valhalla. I do not believe you.”

The man sighed, and bit his lip. “Could I convince you to come with me, then?” he asked. “I can show you proof of my claims. Then, perhaps, you will let us help you.”

“If it is true you raised me from the dead, then you should be horrified with your actions. You have stolen me from Valhalla, and the gods, and interfered in fate. They will be angry.”

“Or, perhaps you have found a new fate with us,” the man suggested. “Come. I’ll introduce myself along the way.”

Perhaps against her better judgement, as she had nothing else she could do, Freydis walked to the man, and allowed him to take her from the small room she was in.

The man led her out into a long, bright hallway that felt similar in nature to the first room she’d woken in. Large, white rectangles seemed to light the space, and she creased her brows as she looked up at them. Something about them made her quite uncomfortable. She swallowed again.

“You have not told me where I am,” she commented. The man merely chuckled in response. “Do not laugh at me.”

“My apologies, Queen Freydis,” he said. “I was laughing because you’re right. You don’t miss a thing, do you?”

Freydis narrowed her eyes at the man’s back. “No, I don’t,” she agreed harshly. “And I will not ask again. Where am I?”

“You are… in Germany, not that this will make any sense to you. You’d have known Germany as the Germanic tribes, which were part of the Frankish Empire.”

“Has it been taken from the Frankish?” she questioned. Her mind turned to her husband’s uncle, Duke Rollo, who had helped him take Kattegat. Freydis wondered vaguely if Rollo was alright.

The man chuckled again, but answered before he could anger the Viking woman behind him. “Many centuries ago, yes.”

A frown set on her lips as her brows creased harshly again. “I still do not believe you, that I have been dead before,” she said. “I fell unconscious at the Battle for Kattegat, and you have kidnapped me. Perhaps I am not even in the Germanic tribes.” She swallowed hard, making sure her voice did not shake, and no nerves were heard in her voice as she spoke again. “My husband will come and find me. You should return me to him before he destroys you and your people.”

She couldn’t see the way the man grimaced. History didn’t know that Ivar the Boneless murdered his wife after her betrayal. After all, she had been found sharing a tomb with him, buried like heroes together, and none of the sons of Ragnar had taken note of how Freydis had died- other than it was the day Björn Ironside took Kattegat. So, with her question, he was hit with the realisation that she didn’t know her husband was dead.

“He… is not a concern to us. We are safe, keeping you here,” he said vaguely. He hoped that Freydis wouldn’t realise anything about Ivar’s passing until she learned it truly was centuries later, and it would only make sense that he was gone, just as she once had been.

This caused Freydis to frown more deeply, and she suddenly stepped quicker to the man, grabbing his shoulder and slamming him into the wall. He immediately pulled away from her as best he could, though he did not escape her. His eyes squeezed tightly shut. Clearly, he was terrified of her.

“Ivar the Boneless will come for me,” she hissed out. “You would be wise to return me to him, entirely unharmed, before he raises up his Great Heathen Army again, to come and rescue his Queen.”

The man was shaking under her. Freydis wondered how little prepared these people must have been, if their men fell apart so easily. She wasn’t even a shieldmaiden, and yet he was terrified of her. “If- if we could get through this tour, I think you would see just what- what I mean about your husband, Your Highness.”

She huffed, and narrowed her eyes. “If you try anything, and he finds out, he will kill you. I’ll be sure of it.”

He nodded enthusiastically, still grimacing and trying to push himself into the wall. “Of course,” he said. “I’ve told you- we are your friends, here. We won’t hurt you.”

“See that you do not, or there will be Hel to pay.”

Eventually, he took Freydis into another strange room. Though this one was still different from all she had seen so far. It was filled with strange slabs of metal, all with moving images on them. People in the funny white coats, including the woman from earlier, were watching these moving images, and writing in a language she couldn’t read.

The images showed men and women strapped down the way she had been, the same strange devices put to their skin, sometimes multiple of them, and various liquids were pushed into them. The woman from earlier soon noticed Freydis’s presence, and she smiled, coming toward her. The Queen backed up immediately, and the woman’s face fell.

“Jeg antar at det er fornuftig at du ikke vil like meg, ikke sant?” she said. Freydis looked up to the man, as he had clearly understood her, and she didn’t understand this woman.

“Doktor Schmidt, sie spricht kein modernes Norwegisch,” the man said. This was yet another language, and Freydis frowned sharply. What the hell were they playing at.

“It is rude to speak in front of a guest in a way they cannot understand you,” she reminded him pointedly. “What are you saying to her, and what is she saying?”

The man turned to Freydis to answer, “I was telling her that you don’t understand modern Norwegian. She doesn’t speak the Old Norse you do, so I’m going to have to translate between you two, I suppose.”

“No need,” Freydis said. “She is the one who has brought me here, is she not? She put that strange liquid in me which took my consciousness. I will not speak to her.”

The man grimaced and relayed what she said to the woman, who pressed her lips together and sighed, before answering him. Freydis’s eyes watched his response intently.

“She is sad to hear this, but understands. Though, she asks your forgiveness for making you sleep earlier. You were beginning to have a panic attack, and she wanted to keep you from going through that.”

The harsh glare Freydis shot the woman revealed she did not have Freydis’s forgiveness. “Anxiety and panic are nothing I have not experienced before,” she said. “I would have been fine.”

Again, he spoke to the woman, but this time she didn’t stay to listen, her eyes catching on one of the moving images. She had seen herself flicker across it. An image of her sitting in a throne, eyes open yet unseeing, hovered in the upper right corner. She looked beautiful, if not… dead. Covering the whole thing was a moving image- the one in the corner was still- of people moving around a woman, strapped to and laid out on a cold… hard…

Gods above… she thought. It was her.

What Freydis was watching was footage of her being brought back to life by these scientists, who were testing various things on her corpse, monitoring her, until an order was given. A shot of something was put straight into her heart by one scientist, and then they all quickly cleared the room. It was then that she woke, and she watched the interaction she had had with the woman- now standing behind her- before she’d been rendered unconscious.

She watched as she was given a shot of a tranquiliser, and fell asleep, and then the image froze. “This is a monitor,” the man at her side said. “We play back videos on it, and can take notes on what we see in them. That video was of you being woken up for the first time- brought back to life. The picture in the corner there, that was your corpse as we found it. You were with your husband, Ivar the Boneless, in a tomb meant for heroes. Preserved. It was… it was incredible, really. To find you both so perfect, even after death. We were thrilled, naturally, and-”

Freydis stopped listening as another one of the ‘monitors’ shifted, and showed a different image that struck her to her core.

Ivar’s corpse, laid out on the same sort of table as she had been, and he was being injected with various things, just as she had been. She hadn’t seen that part of her own footage. She walked away from the scientists again, and up to the monitor, watching as an injection was given to him in his heart, just as had been done to her. The scientists in the room with him cleared out, and just as she lifted her fingers to the screen, her expression unreadable… Ivar the Boneless took a breath.

Freydis promptly passed out, and collapsed to the floor.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius, @katfett, @zuzus-sun

[miraculousmarifan]

Felinette Month 2020 - Day 27: In Between

Here’s the beginning of the last set of late @felinettenovember works! Enjoy a little competition between Adrien and Felix that ends with an altogether different winner.

Around 2300 words

Marinette loved fashion design. She loved seeing the clothes, learning what went into making them, and figuring out how to make them look the best on people. What she didn’t enjoy was going to stuck up parties where most people were trying to trip up others. She thought this one would be easier as it was only a company-wide Christmas party and she already had at least two good friends attending, outside of the coworkers she had a good relationship with. What she didn’t bargain on was that both her friends would compete to be her companion for the entire night.

Upon arriving and checking in at the front, she found her good friend Adrien at her elbow. He immediately asked about taking her jacket, which she allowed, inquiring about the coat room and readjusting the bag she would keep throughout the night. Then he began to try bringing her into the main room, encouraging her to hold his arm for steadiness, and offered to find her a refreshment right away. Instead they were faced with Felix holding two glasses partway down the hallway, asking Marinette which she would prefer. She thanked him for considering her favorite and accepted the glass.

Marinette hadn’t thought ahead when she told both men about her excitement to attend and see other designers she didn’t get to see often. She and Adrien had been friends since school, her even holding a crush for a few years before moving on. She had gone on some dates after and had decided she didn’t enjoy their company enough for it to cut into her designing time, especially as she worked tirelessly to expand her portfolio for university and beyond. The two had remained good friends, meeting once every few weeks with their friend group except during busy seasons at work when one or the other couldn’t make it. 

She and Felix had connected in university, finding that they were doing complementary classes and that by collaborating, the two had excelled in their coursework far beyond their classmates. Learning that they both intended to work at the same company had resulted in weekly lunches and occasionally Felix “reminding” Marinette that she needed to go home and rest when she had been working later for too many days in a row. She needed the escort out of the building to ensure she didn’t go right back to working.

Unfortunately the two cousins had not gotten along well in the past five or so years, though the two had never elaborated on what happened to drive a wedge between them. The hostility between the two was tangible though, a whisper among their coworkers about how the two would specifically avoid meetings that the other was meant to be in or take their lunches at very select times, in areas of the building the other wasn’t likely to go to. Marinette hadn’t realized it was actually bad enough for the two to glare at each other the way they were, thinking the rumors played up this tension.

From further into the entryway, Claude waved an arm and rushed forward towards Marinette, breaking the staring contests between her friends. His dark green suit and bright red tie contrasted to really emphasize the occasion.

“Hello Claude. How are you tonight?” she greeted lightly, slightly uncertain of what to expect without as many work restrictions. He greeted her with a half hug, kissing near both her cheeks. Felix and Adrien had both turned to watch him intensely.

“Marinette! I’m so glad you’re finally here! Your dress is magnificent! Did you bring a date for tonight?” he gushed, gently holding her arm near the elbow. He was beaming, grin reaching his ears, and only glanced at the two men near her as he asked about the date.

“Not tonight. I didn’t particularly feel like finding one when we were starting to design for the spring line already. Especially since Christmas is already next week, and many of my friends are planning to spend time with their families in preparation,” Marinette casually answered, successfully hiding her wariness at his line of questioning. He had asked her out to dinner once when she first started but he quickly moved on to other targets after she had gently rejected.

“I can escort you, if you’d like! A pretty woman like you is bound to be surrounded otherwise! Plus if I remember correctly, this is the first year you’ve managed to make it so you don’t know where to find all the best food and I can help with that,” he exclaimed with what he probably thought was a charming smile, ending with a wink. Marinette hoped he got distracted soon instead.

“That’s alright Claude! I’m sure I’ll be alright without a date, and if I decide I need to find the best food, I’ll find you,” Marinette tried to dismiss his offer in a polite, but firm manner. With no comeback or ready suggestion to combat it, Claude smiled a little less brightly and informed them he would be returning to the action, reminding Marinette to find him later. With a small wave, he was gone and Marinette sighed.

After rolling her shoulders and head, she strode forward towards the main party. Both Adrien and Felix rushed to match her stride. Adrien asked if she and that man were close; Felix, if Claude bothered her at work. Both assured her that they would take care of her if she needed. She laughed a little, assuring them that Claude was not harassing her at work and she had the situation under control. They didn’t seem convinced, so Marinette made note to herself that she should follow up on this issue.

Walking through the main doors, Marinette paused to scan the room for specific people she hoped to see. She quickly decided that she should just start at one side of the room and work her way around it. She approached a pair chatting that she had worked with on a few occasions.

“Good evening! How have you been? Is your wife here tonight?” She managed to slide into the conversation easily, the pair exchanging small talk quickly before asking her opinion about one aspect of their winter line and her thoughts. She explained what she personally thought were a few pros and cons before a voice behind her chimed in his opinion. Marinette had jumped slightly as he spoke, not realizing that Felix had followed her over. She turned, trying to widen the group so Felix was within the semi-circle rather than behind her. Adrien stood right next to him, causing Marinette to jump again. The original pair looked curiously at the blonds and Marinette tried to casually laugh the interaction off.

“I didn’t see you two join us! Excuse my excluding you from the conversation!” her voice came out nervous, blood rushing to her cheeks. She wished they had said something sooner. Then she proceeded to ask if they had all met and introduced Felix when one man didn't know him. A minute or two of uncomfortable small talk followed before silence. When Marinette excused herself to talk to a woman that had recently returned from maternity leave, Felix and Adrien trailing behind her, one man speculated about her relationship with the two men that were meant to run Gabriel one day. The two agreed that if she was getting special attention, it was likely due to her talent. Gabriel must have asked them to keep an eye on her.

Marinette continued chatting, moving from person to person and, learning quickly from her first experience, immediately introducing people to the heirs of Gabriel by only their given names, as casually as they might any other random coworker or friend. Many noted to themselves or others nearby that those men seemed very attentive. One older designer chuckled quietly when Marinette made a passing statement about wanting to try some hors d'oeuvres before they were gone and both Felix and Adrien slipped away, only to return nearly simultaneously with plates piled much higher than would be deemed appropriate normally, offering them to Marinette. The young woman tried to laugh at them and asked her if she wanted to try any of their offerings. Each of them took one small item from each plate and turned away anything further. Each looked smugly at the other when Marinette took her choice from his plate.

As the night moved on and the live music started, many people moved towards the dance floor with their dates. Most songs were upbeat and catchy and Marinette had made herself at home with another young woman from another department. Felix and Adrien had been pulled away by some executives, discussing this and that, each trying to gain a small amount of favor for their futures. Keen observers may have noted the young men sneaking glances towards a young designer, laughing with another woman.

Soon a young man invited Marinette’s companion to dance. With an excited smile over her shoulder, she accepted. Marinette gave a small wave in acknowledgement and found her drink. It took very little time for the two men to approach her. Felix and Adrien reached her at the same moment. Both asked for a dance in that moment. Marinette’s eyes opened wide in her initial surprise and the swift beeline those men made to get to her had attracted more than a few watching eyes.

“Are the two of you planning on ignoring the rest of the guests here the entire night, when I’m content to stay on my own? Here you ask me to choose between my two very good friends while other young women wait to be invited to dance?” Marinette mockingly replied to the two, eyebrows raised slightly. The men flushed, but Felix took a step forward, leaning slightly towards her. Adrien quickly moved to follow step

“I would only be content to stay by your side, and I’m sure the other women wouldn’t be content in my company either. You look too beautiful for any other to keep my eyes on her,” Felix spoke in a husky whisper, just loud enough for the trio to hear. Marinette looked into his eyes and felt the impact of his words stirring her heart. She knew a blush had to be creeping up as well.

“I can’t imagine wanting to dance with another girl when I know you’re here! You enchant me!” Adrien’s exclamations were much less subtle and held an undertone of pleading. Unfortunately this attracted more eyes nearby and Marinette felt uncomfortable under the weight of their stares.

“Adrien, would you mind not loudly saying things like that? People will get the wrong idea about our relationship,” she replied in a hushed tone, her eyes flicking across the nearby faces watching them with all but outright stares. Adrien didn’t seem to read her mood.

“What do you mean? I care for you unbelievably! I would ask for a date if our careers didn’t make us too busy,” Adrien proceeded, only speaking slightly quieter. The nearest people switched from watching to fish-eyed stares. Felix put a hand on his shoulder.

“Offering her your heart does not mean you have hers. You do not yet have the kind of relationship to boldly declare your feelings for her in front of others, dear cousin,” Felix chided quietly. Marinette’s eyes were drawn to him again.

“I can’t help if I want to shout my affections, my love, from the rooftops! I don’t mind others knowing that I have feelings for her, even if she hasn’t returned them yet!” Adrien justified to Felix, no longer speaking boisterously but still well above a whisper. Felix shook his head slightly.

Marinette couldn’t help but think about the differences between the two as she watched this interaction. Felix asked nothing of her future, of commitment beyond this dance. He put in the effort to be with her in the moment, making time to see her at work often without letting himself become a true disruption. His eyes conveyed a longing for her, a desire to have her close, but he did not presume upon her heart. His words were private, personal and left their relationship as a private matter. He was giving her the option to choose how much she wanted from him and how much others could know. Adrien asked only of a dance here, in a very different way though. He was proclaiming to others that he intended to pursue her when he felt the time was right and that their relationship held something more than friendship, even if it was truly one-sided. He chose to wait, put off his pursuit until it was his sole focus, causing him to miss out on her life in the everyday mundane. This embodied one large difference between the pair: Felix tended to be reserved and only show his thoughts and feelings to those he chose and Adrien tended to be open and show his thoughts and feelings to all.

“Adrien, I work with these people and personally would prefer they recognize I got here on my own merits. There are some that would infer that I am only succeeded due to your influence and any defense you tried to pose would only make them more convinced. Also, I recommend both of you grab yourself a drink because I’m not having my first dance of the night with either of you. I’ve got my eye on someone for that already,” Marinette stated firmly before walking across the room.

The men watched as she approached an older gentleman and gently asked him to dance. He took her hand and the two proceeded to the dance floor where they did a slow sway. She laughed and smiled as the gentleman spoke. The young men looked at each other and Felix extended a hand. Adrien took it silently, the two agreeing to bide their time for Marinette’s decision. In the night after the Christmas party had ended, Felix learned of Marinette’s decision and rejoiced in his opportunity to see her more.

[rossodelgiorno]

2020/ Chain of Fools

2020 was the year I adopted a boiler suit and gas mask as a daily uniform. The world had gone into a global lockdown to combat the COVID19 virus which meant we were only allowed to leave our house for essential reasons such as grocery shopping and exercise. When outside, we were government mandated to wear face masks to prevent the spread of the disease. They made me feel like a muzzled dog and I resented no longer being able to smile with strangers on the street. Feeling like a prisoner in his own home and under extreme stress from job insecurity, my boyfriend Jake’s amphetamine addiction began to spiral out of control.

As a result of Jake’s addiction, we had accidentally befriended a posse of drug dealers and prostitutes- bonded by our love of having a good time and a general disregard for consequence. We met Dani through a call girl friend of mine who had realised the difficulty of making a living through writing online fashion content. Dani had big brown eyes, fat, botoxed lips and dressed only in high end labels like Gucci and Balmain. Born into a wealthy family, she had acquired a taste for expensive things but lacked the work ethic to maintain this taste without selling her body for sex. Dani began to visit more throughout the lockdown to deliver Jake drugs, hidden in a bag of a groceries. One night, she played Carole King on our old vinyl player, while Jake rolled us a joint to share. I flirted with them both, knowing that it would lead to a threesome. We smoked Jake’s joint, snorted lines of cocaine off each other and then took turns going down on each other.

A week later, Dani introduced us to a crew of “script kiddies”- long haired, internet hackers with a love of mumble rap, cryptocurrency and ketamine. I made cocktails for everyone and established that one of these kids shared a mutual friend with Jake. They seemed fascinated by the genuine sexual chemistry between myself, Jake and Dani and expressed gratitude for our generous hospitality. Eventually I came to the conclusion that by associating us with this crowd, Dani had managed to successfully pray on the vulnerable- trusting junkies like us who were lax with internet security and keen for a good time. In retrospect, I wish I had known that Dani was a hustler at heart- making money in any way she could without considering the impact of her choices. At the time however, I felt like we were fully living life in the moment- something I was certain would bring me happiness, meaning and didn’t question her motives for a moment.

Ella, Dani’s best friend, had a boyish pixie cut, high cheekbones and was tall and slim. She had gradually joined in on our shenanigans, along with Mark, a dealer with a steady supply of the best gear available north of the river. We all hung out together in our plant-filled, converted warehouse listening to electronic music and sharing stories about our favourite mind-altering substances. My stories were consistently focused on MDMA. As a notoriously private person, I’d discovered MDMA helped me open up and allowed me to dance, free of fear of judgement. It had also helped Jake open up about the sexual abuse he experienced as child, a fact I doubted would have ever come up without the influence of a truth serum and something which I was certain had driven him to substance abuse in the first place.

While we laughed, chatted and danced with Dani and Mark, Ella, who claimed to be a part time poet and part-time model, entered a viral script virus onto our wireless network by requesting our wifi password. Something we provided willingly, without second thought. This meant remote access to every digital device we owned and access to all stored personal information including scanned copies of our passports and birth certificates.

The issue with Mark, despite his criminal lifestyle, was that he was excellent company. Intelligent, engaging and a DJ in his spare time- we thrived off his love of hip hop and old-school funk. Similarly, he thrived off our property location in the Inner North- close to his regular customers and discrete enough from the prying eyes of authority. We welcomed him into our home with open arms, deprived of social contact through social distancing practices enforced by the pandemic. We held COVID19 illegal gatherings where we got high off Mark’s supply, enjoyed each other’s company while Ella hacked our electronic identities. When you’re lonely, it doesn’t really matter if others are using you and you’re using them. As long as everyone is filling a clearly defined role, the maladaptive social ecosystem continues to function.

It’s unclear exactly how many international drug smuggling routes were established using our stolen online identities before Jake clued on that something wasn’t right. He told me that he had been locked out of his email account, that the speed of his phone had slowed and that he could hear clicking noises during his phone calls. He was certain that his was a breach of online security and started to question the motives of our new friends. I wrote him off as crazy, blaming his excessive use of amphetamines and the psychological effect of social isolation. I was determined to keep my online identity public, obsessed by the idea of becoming the next millennial therapist and too blinded by Dani’s beauty to believe that she would want to harm us in any way.

Eventually Jake’s distress became too extreme to ignore and he shook me violently one night, yelling at me to believe what I had assumed was a paranoid conspiracy theory. A sinking feeling in my gut became apparent when he started to coherently piece together his concerns about his online security issues. I realized that my sense of reality had been clouded by my lust for Dani and by a dark depression that had developed through my work as an essential worker during a pandemic. Based on Jake’s erratic behaviour, I knew we had to get out of the warehouse immediately, but I had no idea where to go and was fearful of drawing attention to any law-breaking activity when police presence was so prominent.

We agreed to seek refuge with our friends Trish and Rick, former 90s British ravers who had channeled their drug-fuelled benders into successful and respectable careers. I called them panicked that night, shaking and rambling about what had happened. Without hesitancy, Trish told us to come over right away. Rick’s brother back in the UK had recently killed himself and they were struggling too. Trish and Rick lived in an affluent area in the inner East which meant we needed to blend in quickly through a disguise of expensive athleisure and an almost painful sense of normality. It appeared that our efforts at disguise were successful and it seemed to result in freedom from any unusual online activity on our devices. We bought new phones, changed our phone numbers, email addresses and disconnected from the outside world for an entire week. We spoke about going to the police, however we both agreed that this would place us at too much risk to the criminal world to be a viable option.

When your online identity is stolen, you quickly start to daydream what it would be like to steal someone else’s identity. For example, what exactly would you do with those proceeds of crime? Which tropical island would you escape to, what designer clothes would you wear, which car would you drive? I quickly became entranced and jealous at the thought of this fantasy life, but then spent time reflecting on my own morality and these feelings subsided. Instead, an intense anger developed at the thought of others taking advantage of Jake and his mental illness. High on a sense of ethical superiority and new found fury, I decided to employ my favourite psychological defense mechanism, repression, to cope with my latest traumas. May you rest in peace, memory, I said to myself before engaging in my daily mediation ritual.

While repressing my consciousness, I also began to focus on the importance of social support. I knew this shit was important but didn’t fully understand until Trish brushed my hair one night, my arms too frail from fear and stress to function. Trish and Rick played familiar Britpop, drank tea and encouraged us to embrace the therapeutic benefits of music through use of the guitar and keyboard that we had brought to their house. We took turns cooking for each other, played board games and counselled each other through each personal problems, one at a time.

Jake and I stayed with Trish and Rick for two weeks until we could establish an exit plan from the city. We migrated to rural Victoria like many other Melbournians, traumatized by the lockdown. The pace in the country was slow yet calming and people genuinely seemed to care about your welfare when they inquired “How you going, mate?” After such an extended period of social isolation, many of us forgot how to interact with others. We valued and craved human connection more than ever, and yet we seemed scared of what we might connect with. We continued to develop our own deformed version of sign language to communicate through the face masks and focused on re-developing social skills that had been lost through extended disconnection.

Jake and I continued to battle through the challenges of online identity theft and the consequences of his addiction issues. Jake’s substance use had subsided substantially without the influence of Mark and Dani and we eventually adjusted to living normal, routine driven lifestyles. He had cycled through periods of problematic use before, however I still felt somewhat shell shocked by the intensity of his most recent relapse. However, one day late in December I found myself wandering through the tranquility of the Otways, fully freed from the constraints of the lockdown which had finally lifted and contemplating my progress in life since leaving this place as a teenager. The rainforest sounds were vivid and the smells of the ocean salty in my nostrils. I wasn’t where I had planned to end the year 2020, but I was alive and I had Jake. And for that, I felt eternally grateful.

Rosso Del Giorno

Your journey starts here.

An incomplete list of skills senior engineers need, beyond coding

Dear American Progressives: Your Jewish Friends Are Terrified by Your Silence

POLITICS

Inslee announces vaccination incentives

FORGE

50 Very Short Rules for a Good Life From the Stoics

[pastpatientlywaitingforimagines]

Dragonology | Charlie Weasley x femHufflepuff!Reader Part 4.

Warnings: Romance, kissing, alcohol, dragons

Part 1

DRAGONOLOGY FAQ

*4 years prior*

You and Charlie had been living together in Romania for five months. Your job was everything you had dreamed it would be and more. You were learning so much and meeting incredible people who had the same aspirations as you and Charlie.

You had just been tasked with training one of the older dragons at the sanctuary. She had a history of being difficult to work with, but you didn’t believe the labels that she had carried with her during her time with humans. You were unable to sleep due to the chaos in your brain as you grappled with how you were going to have a breakthrough with the dragon.

To combat the restlessness, you dragged yourself out of bed and into the tiny kitchen of your home, setting some water on to boil and preparing a cup of tea for yourself. Charlie found you still standing in the kitchen, staring blankly at the stove with the warm mug in your hands. Your boyfriend rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes, then slid his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder from behind.

“What are you doing up so late?” his voice was gruff with grogginess.

“Couldn’t sleep so I made some tea,” you informed him.

“That sounds nice,” he yawned.

“Would you like some?” you remembered your manners as you came out of your trance. Charlie shook his head, “Don’t think I’m awake enough to drink anything. Do you do this often?”

You smiled.

“This is the first time since we’ve been in Romania. I used to do it a lot more during school when I would be up late working on homework. I need something to calm my brain down between work and bed, otherwise I can’t sleep.”

“Where would you get tea that late?” Charlie removed one warm hand from his hold on you to scratch the back of his head.

“The Hufflepuff common room is right next to the kitchens. We used it for more than slumber party snacks, you know.”

“I’m picturing you in your pajamas and slippers going to the kitchen and having tea with the house elves. It’s a very (y/n) thing to do.”

“That’s exactly what it was. There was a very kind seventh year who brought me there the first time our first year. I was terrified, but she told the house elves what I needed and they provided. Since then, every time I went into the kitchen after a certain time I didn’t even have to say anything. They would just give me a cup of tea exactly how I like it. I started learning how to knit potholders to give back to them as a thank you,” you smiled at the memory.

“I wondered how someone could be so good at knitting potholders but rubbish at fixing my socks.” You didn’t have to see the expression on Charlie’s face to know that he was smiling with you.

“I had a lot of practice.”

“Well, I can’t guarantee I’ll have a hot cup of tea waiting for you when you can’t sleep, but I’m always here if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

You stood in silence with Charlie while you finished the rest of your tea. As soon as your cup was on the counter, Charlie spun you around and pulled you into a strong hug.

“I’m always here if you need me,” he repeated, then kissed the top of your head, then your cheek, and then your lips. You could have kept kissing him there in your kitchen, but Charlie pulled away with a smile.

“What?”

“You taste like tea,” Charlie’s observation made you laugh, which then turned into a yawn.

“Ready?” Charlie gestured to the bedroom. You nodded, content and warm from the tea and your amazing boyfriend.

*Present*

You didn’t realize you had fallen asleep until you woke up to sunlight illuminating the small room. Living at the Burrow was one of the most comfortable things you had done in your life, and you were no stranger to the sunbeams that fell into the small room.

“You’re awfully happy this morning,” Charlie mumbled sleepily, pressing sloppy kisses into your warm cheek.

“I was just enjoying the sunshine. Our bedroom in Romania doesn’t get nearly as much natural light.”

“You are such a Hufflepuff, no wonder I want to marry you,” Charlie teased.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re just so… soft,” Charlie sighed contently, pulling you closer into his side.

Amidst the turmoil building in the wizarding world, you and Charlie were able to spend a few more days in blissful innocence before having to Floo back to Romania and resume your work.

“How was your vacation?” Henry, another dragon keeper joined you as you walked down a gravel path towards the enclosure that held your favorite dragon.

“It was amazing. It’s been a while since we’ve seen Charlie’s family, so it was nice to catch up with them.”

“Heard ya got hitched,” Dmitri, one of the other keepers appeared at your other side. You blushed, “just engaged. Who’s spreading rumors about me? I’ll need to go have a chat with them.” The boys laughed, hearty chuckles echoing off the mountains surrounding you.

“Not gonna tell my sources. Are you going to see Kaira?” Dmitri gestured to the small box of dragon food sitting on your hip.

“Yup, how was she while I was gone?” Both men’s eyebrow’s raised, before Henry answered.

“Bonkers, mate. Wouldn’t work for anyone, spewing fire all over the place.”

“Is that why you’re both escorting me over there?”

“Just lookin’ out for ya. Wouldn’t want to hafta bring good ol’ Charlie back the scorched remains of his fiancée.”

“I appreciate it,” you rolled your eyes before taking a deep breath and unlocking the gate in front of you. The older men followed you into the enclosure, closing the gate behind your small group. The hinges squeaked and you immediately heard the bounding of Kaira coming from the other side of the large enclosure. Everything about the icy blue dragon’s body language said “stay away”, and from the smoke coming from her nostrils if you didn’t act fast she would send a blast of white hot fire in your direction. Aware of Henry and Dmitri behind you with their wands up, you tucked your wand behind your ear and stuck your hand straight in the air making eye contact with the large beast. She immediately stopped in her tracks and flopped onto the ground, purring contentedly. You grabbed a large chunk of meat from the box on your belt, a leg of goat thanks to the extension charm, and tossed it in the direction of Kaira’s mouth.

The men behind you hesitantly lowered their wands as you approached Kaira with a smile on your face.

“Hi baby girl, did you miss me?” You gave her another large piece of meat when she purred in response. You started asking her for behaviors, giving her pieces of food after each one she did successfully until your box was empty.

“I’ll see you later, sweetheart,” you patted her on the nose before backing up to the gate and leaving, Henry and Dmitri in front of you the whole time.

“You’re amazing, kid. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“That’s a completely different dragon than was in there yesterday,” both men started talking as soon as you had secured the lock.

“She’s precious. I didn’t think it would be such a problem that I left, she’s fine if other people are in the enclosure while we’re working,” your mind was already racing, assessing the session you had just had with Kaira.

“Nobody works with the dragons the way you do. Except maybe Charlie, but he was on vacation with you,” Henry supplied.

“Maybe that’s our issue. Don’t need to use force when you can just ask.”

“Speaking of asking, Boss Man wanted to see you and Charlie in his office as soon as possible,” Dmitri interrupted your train of thought.

“You’re telling me this now?”

“Didn’t want to distract you before you saw demon dragon,” he shrugged. You rolled your eyes again.

“Thanks for letting me know. I guess I’ll go find Charlie.” You left Henry and Dmitri at the main feed storage building and headed off in the direction of the Norwegian Ridgeback enclosure, knowing Charlie would be there.

Your fiancé was exactly where you thought he’d be: under a pile of Ridgeback babies.

“Hi cuties,” you cooed, scratching the little dragons under their chins when they scurried over to you, “oh hey Charlie,” you deadpanned before breaking into a smile from the joke. Charlie moved the remaining babies off of his lap and stood.

“Very funny, did you see Kaira already?” He pulled an iridescent blue scale from where it was stuck to your jacket.

“Yeah, Henry and Dmitri said she was tough to work with while we were gone, but she was fine for me. I’m going to have to sit down and figure out why.”

“I told Dmitri that we eloped while we were back home, just to see his reaction. I think he believed me.”

Your sudden laugh startled the baby Ridgebacks, sending them scurrying back to their mama.

“Sorry babies, Dmitri brought it up to me earlier but wouldn’t tell me who told him. I can’t believe it was you.”

“Was that what brought you down here to baby lane? Not that I’d ever pass up an opportunity to see your shining face, but normally you prefer to be out training the untrainable.” Charlie wasn’t wrong, you usually were not found caring for the babies like he was.

“No, Dmitri said Henderson wanted to see us in his office as soon as we were both free. I have a minute if you do,” you supplied. Charlie nodded, following you back towards the buildings.

When you arrived at Patrick Henderson’s office, Charlie rapped on the door with his knuckles, then poked his head into the doorway. You were both greeted cheerfully by your boss.

“Charlie, (y/n), so glad to see you. I heard your vacation was quite eventful, hm?” You both nodded.

“Dmitri said you wanted to see us, sir?” Charlie prompted.

“Ah, yes, I’ve just been contacted by the Ministry of Magic from your neck of the woods. They’re hosting the Triwizard tournament at Hogwarts this year. They want us to supply dragons for the first task and I couldn’t think of anyone better to lead this project than my two finest Hogwarts graduates themselves!”

“Of course, Mr. Henderson. When is this happening?”

“The task is at the end of November, so you have a few months to prepare.”

“Who do you want us to bring?” You finally piped up.

“A Welsh Green, a Fireball, and… a Horntail to spice things up,” Henderson answered after pondering for a minute. He described what Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, wanted the task to be, then shooed you out of his office.

Previous Part | Next Part

[ybelovva]

the basics;

NAME: Yelena Belova

ALIAS(ES): Black Widow, Pale Little Spider, Rooskaya, too many to count...

AGE: Twenty-four

BIRTHDAY & ZODIAC: August 31st, Virgo

MBTI: ISTJ Inspector

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: She/Her

FACECLAIM: Florence Pugh

tw:mentions of deviant behavior (not yelena)

a deeper look;

FAMILY: Unnamed mother, Olga (Aunt)

AFFILIATION: Russia, Black Widow Ops Program, Red Room

THREE FAVORITE THINGS: Her country, Her job, Vodka

THREE HATED THINGS: Failure, Being Lesser than Natasha, New Gotham

EDUCATION: Some high school, Graduate of the Red Room espionage unit

SKILLS: Master Martial Artist, Gymnast, Espionage, Adept with all kinds of weapons, Highly Intelligent (to a degree), Trained operative

WEAPONS: ElectroShock Bracelets (Widow’s Bite) and Various Guns

ABILITIES: N/A

the questionnaire;

question: WHAT IS SOMETHING YOUR CHARACTER LIKES ABOUT NEW GOTHAM? SOMETHING THEY DISLIKE? DO THEY MISS THE WAY THINGS WERE - OR DO THE LIKE HOW THE WORLD IS NOW?

There isn’t much Yelena likes about New Gotham, but she does like that crowded streets mean she can blend in and disappear, whenever she wants. Allows her to watch her back, while following another’s. Yelena dislikes everything else. New York city, the creatures, the smell ---- but she especially detests the crime rate in New Gotham city. Moscow wasn’t nearly as dirty as this. At least they had principles and real punishment, where she came from. Here? Criminals run rampant, cocky, it disgust her, especially now that some of them have wings and fangs. It surprised her, all these new types of people and creatures, but it isn’t the first time she’s fought something non-human. She’s just not used to it being normal, but she’s getting used to it. Yelena misses the way things were, before the collision. She wants to go back to her universe, and fufill her duties as the Black Widow. At least there, she was the only one.

question: WHERE WAS YOUR CHARACTER WHEN EVERYTHING CHANGED? ARE THEY SUSPICIOUS OF EVERYONE OR ARE THEY TRYING TO REMAIN UNDER THE RADAR? HAVE THEY REUNITED WITH THEIR FRIENDS OR ARE THEY LOST?

Yelena was in the middle of a mission. Well, more like a post lesson. When everything changed, she was on her way to her next mission when she was taken out of her universe and dropped into this one. Yelena is both suspicious of everyone and under the radar. She doesn’t know who or what brought her here, and why? New Gotham is constantly changing, and with it bring more people, and more questions. Under the radar, because she doesn’t want to bring any unnecessary attention to herself. Give them just enough to ease them in conversation, that’s it. They wouldn’t want to know who the real Yelena Belova was. Yelena doesn’t have friends. Period. She’s lost and on her own, but she has a plan. She plans to scout out the area and people, as many as she can, gather information and figure out how to get outta here: that is her mission. Her skin crawls, the longer she stays in this place, but meanwhile, she’s going to use her skill set to save herself.

question: ADDITIONAL INFORMATION: ANYTHING YOU WANT US TO KNOW? ANY HEADCANONS? Hi! I’m Sessho! And Yelena needs a lil bit of an explanation to the group. Since we don’t know how Yelena will be played in the upcoming Black Widow movie, I’m basing her more on her comic counterpart who’s a little more evil than ya think (I have already discussed this with one of the admins). So, following, is a bio I made for her ages ago based on her in the comics. I hope it makes sense and you all enjoy!

     Yelena’s life before the Widow Program, was all but forgotten by the time she was fifteen. When Yelena was fifteen years old, she was recruited by the Red Room to be the next potential Black Widow. The same academy that the Soviet’s trained the first Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff. Once it’d become clear that their beloved Widow had defected, the Soviets knew they had a lot of work to do with Belova. And so that is where her story, begins.

     She was originally spotted for her exceptional physical condition, high marks on her IQ tests, and her talent in gymnastics. The KGB meant for her to succeed her predecessor. Despite the program’s success, their perfect spy failed them. So, for years Yelena was trained under a strict regimen by the trainers of the program. During her training, Yelena scored incredibly high on her tests. But instead of being proud about it, she stated Romanoff had scored better, under the same tests. She hated to be lesser than a traitor who deserted her country.

     The Red Room was her home, the pale little spider trained under for a decade. They fed her, clothed her. They played their vicious mind games on her, brainwashed her. Taught her how to fight, how to bleed. How to kill, and how to blend as a spy. She’d all but forgotten her life, before. One particular trainer she came to view, as a father figure. Pyotr Vasilievich Starkovsky, a Lieutenant Colonel who taught Yelena hand-to-hand combat, weapon use, and knife work for over a decade. A trained hand in hand combatant, he was her main instructor. She’d become close to him, and Starkovsky too considered her like his daughter. Though Starkovsky became obsessed. Yelena never thought anything of it. She was starting to feel inferior and inadequate to her predecessor, but as much as wanted to defeat her, Yelena undoubtedly idolized her. Even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself.

      While Starkovsky’s deviant behavior found a substitute in a brothel with a woman named Petra, a look-alike of Yelena. What happened next, Yelena doesn’t exactly know. Starkovsky was dead, killed by Petra. Belova was shattered by the news, and confused by the loss of her father figure. She’d been told Starkovsky had been stealing secrets from the Black Widow program, and Yelena decided to investigate, on her own. In the end, Yelena killed Petra, and proceeded to accept the role as the new Black Widow. Belova would go on to never know that the entire ordeal, and the brothel’s owner, and the other woman in the room, Nikki, was an exercise. And part of her graduation test.

     Her time as the Black Widow was short, but not without making it’s bite on the various people who mattered. For years, she’d completed intelligence missions for the KGB under the moniker Black Widow. Though her efforts, and partially the name, were overshadowed by the scarlet Widow. The real Black Widow. Yelena worked in the dark. The only people who learned that there was a second Widow, were her targets, and others who kept tabs on her. But the world knew of the Black Widow as a superhero. Natasha Romanoff, the Avenger. Yelena watched the movements of Natasha and the rest of the Avengers, through the years. And she waited. Shadowed by her predecessor once more. Seeing her face on the screen, fueled her obsession and drive to beat her, and be the only Widow that still represented mother Russia.

     Yelena and Natasha had crossed paths, at least once, before Yelena successfully killed her. Natasha had always been far more experienced than the younger Widow, superior, but Yelena turned Natasha’s “mind games” on her. Wishing to teach Yelena a lesson, Natasha and Nick Fury, created Operation: Validate. The operation had Belova captured and surgically altered to be Natasha Romanoff and vice verse. To be her duplicate, and Natasha became Yelena Belova. Belova mentally held it together and played along, believing this had to be a mission that’d gone wrong. In the end, Natasha explained to Yelena that she’d orchestrated the whole thing in order to tell her the truth. Yelena was just a pawn for the people who trained. An instrument in war, not some heroine for her country. And that espionage was not a game, but Yelena didn’t want to hear it, and she shot Natasha and killed her. Yelena escaped with her life before Fury and his operatives could get there, and their mission was deemed a failure.

     After much convincing, Yelena used the doctors provided by the Red Room to reverse the effects of the surgery. Yelena looked like herself again, and now, in this new world, she was the one and only Black Widow. She achieved her greatest desire, to beat her predecessor, but Yelena felt no differently. Her passion disappeared after that, but she continued onto her next mission....

plots: So basically, plot-wise, Yelena’s universe is mostly comic based since the Black Widow movie hasn’t come out yet, and I’ve taken some liberties here and there with her bio. In her universe, she killed Nat, but after she feels lost, until she ends up in New Gotham. She’ll slowly become an Anti-Hero, here, in New Gotham, through interactions and plots and whatnot. That’s where I can blend in some of the MCU for her, because I’m also really excited about what they’ll do for Yelena in the MCU !!!

      Connections! Honestly, I’ll take them all, no bias here, especially since I’d like to see her become somewhat of a hero. I wanna put Yelena through the ringer tho too, so come at me, bruh.

     The only other thing I was gonna put here was, my laptop can’t make text smaller (it’s already small) so all my text will look regular-sized for tumblr posts. Sorry!

[alexsfictionaddiction]

Alex Recommends: May and June Books

I must apologise for the late arrival of this post. It should have been up days ago but I’ve been struggling to read much for the last month or so. My head has been very foggy and dark with all of the confusion, anxiety and hate that has been filling my news feeds and I’ve been filled with a desire to combat it. Before this month, I’d have run in the opposite direction from any kind of confrontation but recent events have given me the kick up the butt to actively do better. I’ve been calling out bigotry when I come across it and I’ve noticed that some people, notably my older relatives, haven’t necessarily reacted favorably to the changed, more outspoken Alex. It has been pretty daunting and I’ve worked myself up into fits of rage and tears several times over the last couple of months.

A lot of things have changed for me since my last Alex Recommends post. I’m currently temporarily living in Staffordshire with my boyfriend because my depression got too bad for me to stay at home for much longer. I missed him unbelievably much and I knew that spending some prolonged time with him would help -and it has. Both him and I have spent 12 weeks religiously following all of the rules, so we’re both extremely low-risk for catching and spreading COVID-19 and being together was something that we simply really needed to do. Please don’t hate me for it! In other news, I have also started writing again, which feels amazing. I’m now a few thousand words into a queer Rapunzel retelling that I have lots of ideas for. Maybe I’ll even post an extract or two, when I feel it’s ready to show you.

In the centre of the renewed energy of Black Lives Matter and the undeniable exposure of the horrors that is police brutality, the book blogging and BookTube worlds vowed to uplift Black voices. I wrote a very long, in-depth blog post full of Black-written books and Black book influencers. Please check it out to diversify your TBR and educate yourself on Black issues, which is what every white person should be doing now and always.

June was Pride Month and I tried my best to compile a series of recommendation posts in honour of it. These included gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, non-binary, ace, pansexual and intersex lists. I’ve had some great feedback on this, so I hope you find some fantastic new reads. It felt especially poignant to put them together the same year that one of my childhood heroes came out as an ignorant trans-exclusive feminist. As a lifelong Harry Potter superfan and someone who has repeatedly publicly supported Rowling in the past, I feel the need to clarify where I now stand. I do not support or agree with a single thing that she has said in recent times with regard to transgender people. I’ve never felt my own status as a cisgender female threatened by trans people wanting more rights or believed that children or women were at risk due to their existence. 

I read her words more than once and struggled to find any semblance of the woman who wrote the books that have most defined my life. I’m hesitant to say that we can always successfully separate the art from the artist but I will say that it makes sense to me that the Rowling of 2020 is not the same Rowling that wrote Harry Potter. She was a destitute single mother when Philosopher’s Stone was published in 1997 and of course, she is now a million worlds away from that lifestyle. It breaks my heart but it makes sense to me that she has changed beyond belief because her life has changed beyond belief. I’m not and never would make any excuses for her recent behaviour and I have stopped supporting her personally but I will not be getting rid of my Harry Potter books and I will undoubtedly re-read them several more times. However, I am now hugely reluctant to buy any more merchandise or special editions of the books, which saddens me but at the moment, it feels right. There is no coming back for her from this and I will make a conscious effort to keep Harry Potter and Rowling away from my future content. It can be really tough to admit that the people you once really admired aren’t great humans but it’s something that we all have to acknowledge in this case, in order to move forward with our own quests to become our best selves.

It didn’t feel right to post my May recommendations last month as I didn’t feel comfortable promoting my own content in the midst of boosting Black voices. So today I’m bringing you a bumper edition of Alex Recommends. Here are 10 books that I’ve enjoyed since the start of May that I’d love to share with you. Enjoy! -Love, Alex x

FICTION: Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng

Set in the affluent neighbourhood of Shaker Heights, Ohio in the 1990s, two families are brought together and pulled apart by the most intense, devastating circumstances. Dealing with issues of race, class, coming-of-age, motherhood and the dangers of perfection, Little Fires Everywhere is highly addictive and effecting. With characters who are so heartbreakingly real and a story that weaves its way to your very core, I couldn’t put it down and I’m still thinking about it over a month after finishing it. 

FICTION: Get A Life, Chloe Brown by Talia Hibbert

When coding nerd Chloe Brown almost dies, she makes a list of goals and vows to finally Get A Life. So she enlists tattooed redhead handyman and biker Red to teach her how. Cute, funny and ultimately life-affirming, this enemies-to-lovers rom-com was exactly the brand of light relief that I needed this month. The follow-up Take A Hint, Dani Brown focuses on a fake-dating situation with Chloe’s over-achieving academic sister and I can’t wait to get my hands on that.

FICTION: The Rearranged Life of Oona Lockhart by Margarita Montimore

Just before her 19th birthday at midnight on New Year’s Eve 1983, Oona Lockhart finds herself inexplicably in 2015 inside her 51-year-old body. She soon learns that every year on New Year’s Day, she will now find herself inside a random year of her life and she has no control over it. Seeing her through relationships, friendships and extreme wealth, this strange novel has echoes of Back To The Future and 13 Going On 30 with a final revelation that I certainly never saw coming.

NON-FICTION: The Five by Hallie Rubenhold

Atmospheric and engaging, The Five details the previously untold stories of Polly, Annie, Elisabeth, Kate and Mary-Jane -the women who lost their lives at the hands of Jack the Ripper. Full of fascinating research and heartbreaking accounts of what these women’s lives may have been like, Rubenhold paints a dark immersive portrait of Victorian London and gives voice to these tragic silenced lives. Although we can’t know for certain if these accounts are entirely accurate, they feel very plausible and in some ways, The Five exposes how little time has moved on, when it comes to the public portrayal of single, troubled women.

NON-FICTION: Unicorn by Amrou Al-Kadhi

From a childhood crush on Macaulay Culkin to how a teenage obsession with marine biology helped them realise their non-binary identity, Unicorn tells the story of how the obsessive perfectionist son of a strict Muslim Iraqi family became the gorgeous drag queen Glamrou. Packed full of humour, honesty and heart, this book will give you the strength and inspiration to harness what you were born with and be who you were always meant to be.

MIDDLE-GRADE: The Super Miraculous Journey of Freddie Yates by Jenny Pearson

When fact-obsessed Freddie’s grandmother dies, he discovers that the father he has never met may actually be alive and living in Wales. So he has no choice but to grab his best friends Ben and Charlie, leave his home in Andover and go to find his dad! I laughed so many times during this madcap adventure and I know the slapstick crazy humour will hit the middle-grade target audience just right. It’s also a wonderful depiction of small town Britain with a focus on the true meaning of family.

MIDDLE-GRADE: A Kind Of Spark by Elle McNicoll

When Addie learns about her hometown’s history of witch trials, she campaigns tirelessly to get a memorial for the women who lost their lives through it. This wonderfully beautiful novel gives a unique insight into the mind of an 11-year-old autistic girl with a huge heart. Busting myths about neurodiversity while tackling typical pre-teen drama, you’ll laugh, you’ll cry but most of all, you’ll close the book with a huge smile on your face. 

HISTORICAL FICTION: Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell

In 16th century Warwickshire, Agnes is a woman with a unique gift whose relationship with a young Latin tutor produces three children and a legacy that lasts for centuries. This enchanting, all-consuming account of the tragic story of Shakespeare’s lost son, the effects that rippled through the family and the play that was born from their pain will send a bullet straight through your heart. Wonderfully researched and beautifully written, Hamnet is worth all of the hype.

HISTORICAL FICTION: The Mercies by Kiran Millwood Hargrave

When a vicious storm kills most of the men of Vardø, Norway, it’s up to the women to keep things going but a man with a murderous past is about to come down with an iron fist. At the heart of this dark tale of witch trials, grief and feminism, two women find something they’ve each been searching for within each other. Gorgeously written with a fantastically slow-burning queer romance, Kiran Millwood Hargrave’s first adult novel is an addictive, atmospheric read with a poignant, tearjerker of an ending.

SCI-FI: Q by Christina Dalcher

When one of Elena’s daughters manages to drop below the country’s desired Q number, she is sent away to one of the new state schools and Elena is about to find out something she’d really rather not know about the new system. Packed full of real social commentary and critique of life as we know it while painting a picture of how things could be even worse (yes, really!), this pulse-racing, horrifying sci-fi dystopian gripped me from the first page and refused to let me go. 

[anianthe]

A Winter Dance

Here’s my Secret Santa for @octobersfarm

I had really fun trying to write someone else’s character and I hope I made Wren enough justice since they seem really cool! Let me know if anything feels weird and I’ll change it and otherwise, enjoy! And Happy Holidays!

Wren ran around the room looking for the present as the snow fell outside. She had to leave for the feast soon and if she were to pick up Penny on the way she couldn't be late. She rummaged through her drawers to find where she'd put it and successfully took out a small package that she hurried towards the kitchen with. 

On the sink stood a rack of muffins freshly out of the oven. She put them carefully into the box before grabbing the ribbon she had found and topped it off with a bow. She then grabbed the package and headed for the front door after making sure the stove was turned off. On her way she stopped in front of the mirror looking at her reflection. 

She was wearing a long brown skirt with stockings underneath and a white sweater over it decorated with a wintery pattern. She nodded to herself before heading out of the farmhouse and locking the door before starting to make her way towards the town. 

She was thankful that she had shoveled this morning  as the sides of the road were now covered in snow that went well over her boots hight. It had snowed all week which had sealed the town in a layer of thick snow but today it looked like it would clear up. The sun was setting and she managed to spot the beautiful pink hues between the cloudy layers as she walked towards the town. If they were lucky they might even be able to see the special winter star that was rumored to only show this day of the year. Walking down the road she could see the colored lights lighting up the square from the distance and faintly hear music and laughter.

 She rounded the corner of Evelyn's house and strode towards Penny and Pam's caravan, thankfully the road up to their house had also been shoveled so she could easily make her way to their front door. She knocked before taking a step back as she heard shuffling before Penny opened the door. 

"Whoa! You look amazing!" 

Penny smiled as she took Wrens outstretched hand and helped her down. She was wearing a long red dress with a sweater over it to combat the cold. The sequins was reflecting the lights and coloring the space around her. 

"You don't think it's too much..?" 

"No it's absolutely perfect!" A blush dusted Penny's cheeks. 

"You look lovely aswell." 

They started making their way towards the town. They could see the town center being lit up by lights making the snow around it glow. The sun had now completely gone down, the cold air now making them shiver. As they rounded the bar and entered the town's center they were hit with the noises of people celebrating. There were tables set up holding this years harvest, some of the food coming directly from Wrens farm. They could see families slowly settling around their tables officially starting their feast. 

The thing that caught both of their eyes were the giant spruce tree now decorating the middle of the plaza, lighting the surrounding town up with twinkling lights and adored with a bright star on top of it. There were presents piled underneath it where Vincent and Jazz were now standing, staring at it with big eyes while trying to find their own presents. 

"I'm surprised every year at how Lewis manages to pull this off every year" Penny said while looking at the tree. 

"Yeah... It really is magical." 

The moment didn't last long. As soon as the kids spotted them they came running, both talking in the mouth of the other making it unable to be understood. 

"Penny! Have you seen the tree! Isn't it the best?!" Penny laughed at the children tugging at her dress, dragging her towards the tree. 

"Have you seen our present?" 

"I'm getting a really big one this year!" 

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Wren looked at them with a stern look before smiling when they bowed their heads. 

"Miss Penny, can you come with us to the tree? Pleeease?" 

"Sure" She answered with a chuckle before following the two children towards the tree, waving goodbye to Wren for the moment. 

Wren took a moment to gaze at the tree. It had been decorated with twinkling lights. It looked like most of the village had already gathered and when she looked towards the buffé table she spotted Shane standing by himself, a drink in hand. She started to head towards him. As she came closer he saw her and smiled. 

"Merry Christmas Shane!" Wren said cheerfully. 

"Merry Christmas to you too." 

"It's been awhile since I've seen you. How have you been?" 

"Good, It's been good."He said while gazing at the ground. "It's been hectic at home. You know how Marnie gets around this time of the year.. I think she's made at least 5 main courses and ten types of cookies for tonight. I tried to tell her we won't need that much but it's no use." He said with a snicker. And you? Everything going good at the farm?" 

"Yeah, I don't really have that much to do since I can't really grow anything. I've been spending more time inside with Penny. Just enjoying winter I guess..? It's been nice to get to relax for a bit." 

The conversation died down as Shane took a sip from the cup he was holding. 

"Don't worry." Shane quickly added when he saw Wren eyeing it suspiciously. "It's just hot chocolate. I've been trying to switch out the strong stuff, besides, this is way more enjoyable and it makes Jazz happy.” He added with a smile.

They stayed like that for a moment just admiring the tree and enjoying each other's presence. Wren saw Penny making her way towards her so she said goodbye to Shane and started walking towards Penny. 

"You manage to get away from them?" Wren asked laughing. 

"I haven't seen them this excited since Jazz's birthday." She snickered. "That reminds me!" She pulled out a present she had hidden behind her back and stretched it towards Wren. "Here's your present. I hope you like it!" She said with a smile. Wren snickered to themselves while admiring the pretty paper. It seemed like Penny had used several tape rolls to hold the present together. In it was a red knitted sweater. Wren pulled it out and measured it against her body. It seemed to fit perfectly.

"Have you made this?" Wren said while admiring the gift. 

"Yeah, do you like it?" Penny asked shyly. 

"I love it! And it fits me perfectly! I didn't know you could knit?" Wren said amazed. 

"Evelyn has been teaching me so it's her you have to thank! My first attempt was just a mess of loose strings." Penny said while letting out a small chuckle.

"Guess I'll be living in this over the next weeks! My turn now!" Wren moved towards the tree and came back with a present that she handed to Penny. "Just be careful! It's a bit fragile!" 

It was a box wrapped in flower printed paper with a red bow around it. Penny slowly untied the ribbon and opened the box, as she did so a familiar smell reached her nose. Pennys face lit up. The box contained poppy muffins gently wrapped as to not crumble.

"Thank you! When did you even have time to make these?" Penny beamed. Wren rubbed at her neck. 

"Well I made them this morning before leaving. They're better fresh so I didn't want them to go stale..." She said awkwardly. Penny put the lid back and placed the box on the ground carefully before enveloping Wren in a hug. 

"I love you." Wren quickly returned the embrace. 

"I love you too." 

Lewis voice ended the moment as it cut through the noise. Everybody quieted down as he wished them welcome and let everyone take a seat to let the feast begin. Wren and Penny had managed to grab some seats at the end of one of the long tables along with Pam and Gus right next to Marnie, Jazz and Shane. 

The meal was enjoyed between friends as everyone had helped bring something. As they ate the homemade food they caught up and discussed everything that had happened since the last time they had seen each other, laughing and appreciating each other's company. 

As the meal ended Lewis put on some music and invited everyone to dance. Robin and Demetrius opened the dance and soon many formed couples and followed. 

"Now I expect you kids to join aswell!" Pam shouted over her shoulder as Gus lead her towards the dancefloor. 

"You know I'm not good at dancing.." Penny said. Not really making any attempt to stand up. 

"I can promise you I've seen worse." Wren said while looking over at Haley who loudly complained about Alex stepping on her toes. Wren stood up and stretched out her hand towards her. 

"Come on, it'll be fun." She said with a smile. Penny cautiously took it as they slowly made their way over towards the dancefloor. At first Penny was stiff, keeping her gaze on her feet trying to follow Wrens steps but after some time she started to relax and let Wren lead her. Even laughing when Wren spun her. 

"Not so horrible after all?" Wren said with a smile on her face. 

"Maybe not." Penny replied still laughing. 

They stayed like that, slow dancing to the music and enjoying the evening. 

As the clock came closer to midnight everyone started to gather in groups to find a spot to wait for the winterstar. 

As the star fell over the valley Wren and Penny stood close in the group of people, hands intertwined as they watched it light up the night sky. Penny leaned closer whispering "I love you" Before Wren kissed her she answered "I love you too." 

[fallout4holmes]

Journal 46

Christmas in Sanctuary was splendid. Preston truly outdid himself. The return home was practically effortless, in no small part thanks to the company of Piper and Hancock. Hancock returned to Goodneighbor (to the relief of Diamond City's guards) and my family prepared to meet the new year.

Valentine discouraged me from attempting homemade fireworks for the occasion, resulting in a quiet night of listening to Diamond City Radio with the Wrights and Ellie over to celebrate. Nat and Shaun were asleep long before midnight, leaving the four adults to enjoy each other's company as Codsworth poured.

"Wellingham informs me the Upper Stands are still livid," Piper said with no small amount of pride.

"I can't believe you actually published that article," Ellie shook her head.

The article in question was Piper's scathing criticism of the anti-ghoul ban, and the behavior of the Upper Stands residents in particular. The fact that she included direct quotes from victims of the ban and those who tried to help them (including a certain infamous mayor) only made her point even harder to ignore.

"I think it was amazing," Ellie clarified, "but I would have been terrified."

"You sell yourself short, kid," Valentine said with a smile. "I've seen you stare down plenty of clients with more venom in them than a radscorpion. Goodneighbor-girl like you isn't going to let anyone boss her around."

"I guess you'd know, boss," Ellie smiled back, "but it seems like there's a difference between an angry client and an angry city."

"Person or city," Piper shrugged, "it's the same thing."

"When one of those persons could lock you out of the city, it likely puts a unique perspective on the situation," I commented.

Piper laughed lightly, "Yeah, that was irritating, but then I wouldn't have met you, Blue."

"So what's your encore?" Valentine asked.

Piper shrugged, "I'll find something, always do." She glanced around at us with thinly disguised mischief, "I don't suppose any of you three have come across any exclusive scoops?"

Valentine chuckled, "If we do, you'll be the first one we tell."

With the midnight hour came Travis Miles wishing everyone a Happy New Year and an ancient recording of "Auld Lang Syne." We bade our guests a happy New Year and I assured Piper that Nat was welcome to stay as long as she liked in the morning. Piper and Ellie returned to their respective homes, and my partner and I turned in.

Shaun and Nat were up and active long before I was, and hurried down to be treated to Codsworth's feast of a breakfast. By the time I came down, Shaun was on the sofa excitedly showing off his latest magazine to Nat while Valentine watched from the kitchen table, a fond expression on his face.

"You're wearing your Christmas present," I said to him, pleased.

The new (in that it was at least whole instead of patchwork) trench coat fit his thin frame well. He smiled and gestured to the small briar pipe I was currently filling with tobacco, "And you're using yours. Hard time getting out of bed this morning?"

"I became motivated when I heard the children laughing."

His hand covered mine on the table, "Glad the sound carried. I was thinking, what with how quiet things have been both for Minutemen and detective work, you might want to check in with the Railroad."

"Worried I'm getting bored?"

"You are bored, Holmes. What I'm worried about is worse than that."

"My family life is successfully keeping the black moods at bay," I assured him. It was not precisely true, but having them and their love to focus on did help me get through the day with some semblance of functionality.

Valentine wasn't fooled, but there was a knock at the door and I hurried to answer it.

"Piper! Come in, please."

"Aw!" Nat groaned, "Do I have to go home?"

"Nah, you can stay if Shaun's dads say it's ok," Piper laughed. "I, uh, actually came to talk to you, Blue. I need a story, something simple that'll sell, and I hate to say it but a piece on the Combat Zone would really move some papers."

"The Combat Zone?" Valentine walked over, frowning. "Not sure it gets much seedier than that."

"It's a raider establishment, isn't it?" I asked.

"'Establishment' is too nice a word for it," Valentine objected.

"It's a cage-fighting ring," Piper explained.

"And you want to see for yourself what it's like?" I asked, a bit incredulous.

She shrugged, "Want to? No. But will a tale of the depravity of raiders and their entertainment appeal to literally everyone safe behind walls? Yep."

"Like watching a train wreck," I sighed. "And you want me to come with you in case something goes wrong."

"Never hurts to have some backup."

"Let the record show I said this was a terrible idea," Valentine grumbled.

I turned to him, "If you rather I not -"

"Piper's gonna go anyway whether you go or not, and this way you can watch each other's backs. Not to mention how we were just talking about you being bored."

I squeezed his hand with a smile and said to Piper, “I'll get my things.”

The sign outside was a list of rules; no fighting outside the ring, no caps no entrance, and no loitering or begging. Breaking the rules would result in being “shot or worse.”

“Simple enough rules to follow,” I said to Piper, who scoffed and led the way inside. Two raiders were tied up behind the box office of the old theater with a sign declaring them to be “rule breakers.” We ignored their jeers and opened the doors to the theater. The entire stage had been converted into a cage, inside of which a pair of women fought. Raiders were scattered throughout the seats, a bar set up near the stage, as a man in a suit narrated the fight. One of the fighters went down, a cheer went up, and someone noticed us. We heard a shout, and Piper and I ducked behind the seats as the shots started. Their blood already up from watching the fight, the raiders were energized, vicious, and distinctly sloppy. It was the only factor in our favor, but it was enough.

“I believe they don’t appreciate people who aren’t raiders entering!”

“No shit, Blue! You really are the world's second best detective!”

I leapt out of range of a grenade, "Second best?!"

"Gotta respect the classics, Blue! Nicky'll always be on top!"

Drawing my blade, I charged the raider attempting to bash her head in, "I don't see what that has to do with his skills as a detective."

She groaned and shot the raider at point blank, a touch overkill considering my sword was already through his lung, "I did not need to know that!"

"Know what? Emotional connection should have no bearing on an analysis of skill."

"You're infuriating."

"Down!" I pulled her to the floor as a new barrage of bullets flew.

The fight was longer than I would have liked, and Valentine would be displeased with the cut on my forehead and bruise across the right side of my face, a gunshot wound through my left bicep, but we were the victors. Piper fared better than I, though I did see her apply a stimpak into her leg at one point.

When all finally fell quiet, we surveyed the bloodied theater. "Seriously," she asked quietly, "you don't think your partner's just as good a detective as you?"

I smiled, "I believe he is exactly as good as I am."

"But not better," she grinned.

"I anticipate it being a common topic of mutual teasing throughout our life together."

"Hey!" a voice called from the direction of the cage, "You done killing each other out there?" Hiding in the cage was an auburn-haired ghoul in a worn old business suit and a fierce, thin woman with shabby deep red hair in a leather corset and pants. They stood as we approached, the ghoul commenting, “Well. That could have gone worse.”

“Pretty good show from where I was sittin’,” the woman said.

“Are you high?” the ghoul scolded, then, “What am I sayin’, of course you are.”

“Still winnin’ the fight, wasn’t I?” the woman demanded.

“You’re strung out and getting sloppy is what you are. ‘Course, guess we don’t have to worry about that,” he turned to Piper and I, “since these two just put us out of business. I don’t know if I should kiss you or have my little bird here feed you your own entrails.”

“I told ya’ to stop callin’ me that!”

“Not our fault you cater to raiders,” Piper huffed.

“Who are you, exactly?” I asked.

“Tommy Lonegan,” the ghoul replied. “This is my place… was my place. We used to serve a more legit clientele, but about two years ago a gang of raiders rolled in and we became a more, uh, exclusive establishment. But, keeping those idiots entertained was what kept the lights on. Not exactly sure what we’re gonna do now.”

The fighter scoffed, “To hell with ‘em. More’ll come. Just need a quick breather and I’ll be ready to go.”

Mr. Lonegan was disgusted, “A breather? What, so you can slam more of that junk into your arm? No. No, you know what? I think this was a blessing in disguise. You caught the end of that bout,” he asked me, “what’d ya think of Cait’s work?”

I was wary. “Why do you ask?”

“Consider it professional curiosity. Now what’d ya think of the fight?”

“I hardly saw anything to judge by, but she seems talented.”

“Least someone knows skill when they see it,” Cait muttered.

“It ain’t your fightin’ skills I’m concerned with,” Mr. Lonegan rebutted, a businessman’s pitch in his voice, “So here’s my predicament. I suddenly got no audience. No audience means I got no caps coming in. And if you ain’t bringing in caps, little bird, you ain’t an asset, you’re a liability. To me, and to yourself. So here’s what I’m thinking. What say I let you take over her contract? She goes with you, watches your back…” he faltered at my skepticism, “look, you’d be doin’ me a favor while I try to get the place back in order. What do ya’ say?”

Cait was incredulous. “Me? And him?”

“Why would you want her to go with me?” I asked.

“Yeah, Tommy,” Cait demanded, “just why the hell you trying to get rid of me?”

Lonegan sighed. “Look, truth is, all that junk, it’s been making you careless. And I don’t want to be the one doing color commentary when you finally hit the floor. Alright? So just do me this favor, both of you. Please.”

He was clearly concerned for her safety. Sending her with me would keep her out of the way while he tried to pick up the pieces of his ruined enterprise, yes… but I wondered if he knew exactly who he was sending her with. I didn’t much care for the idea; what use had I for a cage fighter’s contract? But I was better than any number of alternatives. The vast majority of them, in fact.

“Very well,” I said.

“What?” Piper said behind me.

Cait was not so easily swayed either, “Don’t I get a say in all this?”

Lonegan was stern, “That ain’t how a contract works. Besides, you really wanna stay here? No audience, no caps. No one to talk to but yours truly?”

Cait rolled her eyes, “Jesus, point taken.”

Lonegan smiled, “Good. It’s settled, then. And here,” he handed me a bag of caps, “it’s the purse from the last fight.”

“This isn’t necessary -”

“Call it an exterminator’s fee,” he grinned.

Cait took a step toward me and stopped, turning back to her former employer, “Now wait just a second. What exactly are you gonna do without me here?”

Lonegan sounded hopeful, “You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll get this place set up right, maybe find a less blood-soaked clientele. Now get the hell out of here.” He softened, “You ain’t welcome anymore, little bird.”

Cait shook her head, “You’re a real son of a bitch, you know that, Tommy?”

He smiled warmly, “You don’t have to tell me. Now go on.”

Piper’s whisper was urgent and harsh as we left, “A cage-fighter?! Blue, what the hell?”

“Given her alternatives, I didn’t see much choice.”

“Christ, Blue, you and your strays.”

“Miss Cait,” I said, “my name is Holmes, and this is Piper Wright. Do you need to gather anything before we go?”

She shrugged, and picked up a shotgun from a dead raider. “Let’s just get the hell out of here.”

“Nick better not blame me for any of this,” Piper muttered.

I sighed, and led the way back to Diamond City. I hadn’t the slightest idea what use I would have for a former cage-fighter, but perhaps at the very least my family might take some comfort in my having a bodyguard. I found Valentine at the Agency; he and Ellie were going through the files when we walked in. “Nick, you have files from cases that have been dead ends for longer than I’ve been alive,” Ellie was saying.

“Can’t bring myself to toss any of ‘em out,” he shrugged. “Never know when - well, if it isn’t my favorite former icicle,” he said with a smile as he saw me.

“I’ve returned in a timely fashion,” I protested.

He chuckled, “Glad to have you back. Who’s our new friend?”

I introduced Cait, and explained how I came to be in possession of her contract, such as it was. Valentine was skeptical, but remained polite. Cait was taciturn. We ultimately decided that Cait could use the spare bed in the Agency for now, upon Ellie's suggestion. That much settled, I showed Cait around town. She was impressed under the cynicism, and amazingly humbled by Vadim when we stopped at the Dugout. Apparently, 14 shots is a hard record to break, even for her. Valentine wanted all the details later, and is not particularly pleased with the situation.

"I don't want to complain about another pair of eyes watching your back," he said, "but I'm not convinced this particular set is going to be a good one."

I can't say I disagree, but I've decided to give her a chance.

[all-of-the-imagines-for-eve]

Tattoo ~ Sweet Pea x Reader (Part One)

A/n: I SWEAR I TRIED TO MAKE THIS ONE PART. IT WAS JUST TO GET MOTIVATION FOR THE OTHER SERIES SJOSOWFP I’M SORRY! This one will be super short through I promise ahhhhh sorry sorry enjoy! Other series will be updated super soon :)

Word Count: 2409

While the North Side flipped out over their new mystery girl. Veronica, and all the dark clad secrets she had that would too soon be revealed, South Side had their own new girl.

The craziest thing was, though, the girl blended right in. She faded into the background so that one's eyes fell over her. She never spoke or rose her hand in class or too part in anything and no one noticed her - just the way she liked it.

Really, it wasn't until Jughead Jones came to South Side High that her existence was noticed at all. She approached him one day as he was walking from class to go home. He paused, coiled and ready for trouble, but she shot him a soft smile and held up a notebook with a simple note written hastily on it in black sharpie.

Do you want help with the school newspaper?

Jughead paused. He didn't know this girl. She didn't seem to be in any gang or have anything specific about her that marked her as anyone special. She looked like she could be friends with Betty or Toni or no one or everyone. "Can you write?" Her smirk told him all he needed to know before she nodded, confirming. "Do you speak?" She paused then simply shook her head. "That's fine," he sighed. "I like quiet anyway." She beamed and he chuckled.

From then on, Y/n and Jughead got acquainted and teamed up against the school. Jug found himself talking a lot more than he ever expected himself being capable of. She always listened, chuckling at his jokes and seeming to get his way of thinking. She had patience and tolerance and understanding and she always knew how to comfort him. Even though she never spoke. Over a short span of time the two became close and Jug learned quickly that although she was no gang member skilled in fighting combat, she was extremely good to have at your side in tight situations against kids with bad ideas in their head and late nights at the school.

Jug and Y/n sat together at lunch, too. This is when they didn't talk, instead depending on texting or sending notes on paper back and forth. They had long since established a comfortable silence between them, though, so if there was nothing to be said they were fine saying nothing.

With the friendship came attention, though. Y/n suddenly went from invisible to the talk of everyone - the mysterious new girl who had gone unnoticed for so long had suddenly popped her head out of the shadows at the arrival of Jughead Jones, who refused to be with the Serpents like a teenager in his situation on this side of town shouldn't be.

Toni joined their pair when she took up photography for the newspaper and they became a solid trio that surprised everyone. Toni thought that Jug was cheating on his so called girlfriend from the North Side with Y/n at first with how close the two were, but it took mere seconds to see that they were far more sibling-like than anything else. They always had been. Y/n kept her silence, but Toni and Jug talked plenty enough for her. It was nice.

Fangs was next. He was curious about the new girl and how she seemed to worm her way into everyone's hearts so easily and quickly and successfully without ever saying a word. It really seemed as if Jug, Toni, and her had been best friends all their life. The way the other two could translate Y/n's facial expressions and body language and the way that Y/n never failed to understand how they were feeling and what they were going through, being for them exactly how they needed her to be. Fangs was caught off guard when Y/n went up and hugged him the very first time he ever joined the trio at lunch.

At first he went to pull away, but she kept her hands on his shoulders, her eyes on him and such sadness in them that it hit him to his core. She looked at him with such care and understanding, seeming to reach out with emotion alone. She didn't have to say anything but he relaxed and she leaned back in. He didn't hug her, unsure how she knew that anything was wrong enough to hurt for him so much, but enjoying the feeling of being hugged too much to turn her away. That night, he called her and she came to his trailer and they sat in front of it and he told her all about missing Toni and how he'd been kind of angry and jealous because the trio used to be him, her, and Sweet Pea. Now she was with Jug and Y/n and he missed her.

Y/n sent him a text inviting him to hang out with them more often, joining about how there were always meant to be four Musketeers.

Just like that, Fangs was won over too.

Suddenly, she had three really close friends she could always count on.

It was Sweet Pea who struggled with getting along with the girl. The two butt heads all the time, her glares and eye rolls and scoffs and impatient tapping of her foot or her curled expressions of irritation or even disgust plenty enough responses to Sweet's verbal snaps and quips. Jug, Toni, and Fangs had never seen her not be endlessly kind and patient. They had never imagined that she could be any kind of negative emotion for any lasting amount of time.

Y/n slowly started to disappear into nothing again, though. Jug integrated with the Serpents she encouraged him to follow his instincts and just to be careful. So he hung out with them, hovering between North and South side. Slowly but surely, he was becoming more Serpent every day. And Y/n let him. She talked to him less, hanging out less often and often missing days of school. Or, at least, now showing up to the Newspaper or lunches.

Jughead was never alone... but suddenly, Y/n was. Which was fine before, because she was less than not a target. She wasn't anything or any one at all.

That wasn't the case anymore.

Y/n had stayed at the school for a very long time, waiting for Jug and Toni to go home and leave the school to her. When they finally did, she went into the writing room and settled on her beanbag in her little corner - she preferred that over a desk, and would never give it up no matter how much the others desperately tried to convince her otherwise - and began writing her article for the paper.

At one point, she nodded off and fell asleep. When she shook herself awake seconds later, she knew it was time to go home. She stashed her computer on the shelf next to the beanbag chair like always - the 'laptop' was trashy and falling apart, held together with duck tape and covered in stickers for bands and movies and musicals and places that she had found interesting enough to put on there... it was an overall mess - and stood, leaving the room with her backpack over her shoulder.

She made her way down the hall, eyes heavy and body sagging.

In her moment of pure weakness, they took her off guard.

A fist landed hard in her stomach, knocking all the air out of her before she could even properly turn the corner, bringing her to her knees. Her backpack thudded after falling off her shoulders, landing hard on the floor. The grunt that passed her lips as she fell mixed with the laughter of the people who attacked her, she assumed.

Before she could get to her feet, another foot landed in her chest as she struggled, knocking her on her side. She looked up as she tried to see who was there and saw four guys she didn't recognize. They were wild and smiled at her with insane cruelty. "We can't get on the Jones boy anymore," one of them taunted. "But we CAN get to his little pet." And Y/n realized how bd of an idea it had been to look up when a foot nailed her square in the face.

She was on the ground instantly, the world spinning and exploding into a crazy array of colors. Pain exploded all over her, creating racing arcs that ran up and down her body from each point as she received blow and after blow. Y/n thought that she was set to definitely make it out of this still conscious. Unfortunately, the Ghoulie boys messing her up didn't agree.

"Oy, this one's a Serpent."

Y/n's eyes went as wide as they could through the pain making her face feel contorted and limp. She looked over slowly to see that her shirt and ridden up as she'd curled into a ball to protect herself as much as possible. Through the tears and pain, she saw the Ghoulies grin, looking even more twisted and evil than before. Her Serpent tattoo peeked from below her waist band, which she'd pulled up to hide it. Now it was exposed- not all the way, but enough.

One of the boys pulled out a bat and fear flowed through her body like wild fire catching to dry weeds. Despite that fear and her severely weakened condition, Y/n set her expression and tried her best to lift her chin and glare the boys down. "Do you worst," she grunted, her words just slightly slurred.

The boy with the bat grinned. "My pleasure."

It came down on her and she didn't even have time to feel the pain before she had blacked out.

- Time Skip -

When she came to, Y/n felt two things.

One: lightheaded. The halls were as dark as they had been when she'd passed out. She didn't feel any more injuries than the one that made her head swim and throb, which she assumed was from the bat. It seemed they'd knocked her out and then left her... for dead. That made her shiver.

Two: She was not sure, but she seemed to feel grateful that it had been a Friday. It probably would have been better, with students in the hallway to find her early the next day and as soon as possible. But, this way, she was in this condition longer but no one saw her in it. She could still keep this quiet and no one had to see her succumb to the bullying and rampaging of some dick Ghoulies. Who, may have gone a little too far now that Y/n really assessed how much pain she was in. She made it to her knees and then pushed to her feet slowly, only to immediately loose her balance and crash into the wall next to her.

Pain. So much pain.

She stumbled her way to the bathroom, too out of it to keep track of blood trails and how much she had lost. Instead, she moved to the sink and the mirror over it, analyzing herself. Her lip and nose had dried blood all over the place. Her head had a purpled bump right at her hair line. It wasn't bleeding though, so that's good. If there was more damage than it appeared to have, she wouldn't have been able to get up.

She grabbed paper towel with one hand and then turned the sink on- alternating hands so that she had always had at least one firmly gripping the edge of the sink so she could stay on her feet. She cleaned the blood away, tears forming in her eyes and long groans slipping from her without her permission. When her face was washed, she was surprised to see that most of the mess she'd thought was blood was actually just bruising. Under her right eyes all the way to the apple of her cheek was a deep, wide bruise. It stretched to the side of her nose, where there was a cut on the bridge and it looked weird. Crooked. She assumed that's where the foot had hit her- the hell had planted on her cheek and the toes had made contact with her nose, the middle part hitting around her eyes.

After she assessed her face, she went to the rest of her body. But looking down was hard and her head was spinning faster. She must be bleeding from somewhere else. Shit.

Y/n fought her way back to her backpack, landing hard on her knees as she admitted a wet whimper that left her gasping and made the building tears fall. She took a second and then slowly moved her head side to side. Not to jar her head, but to slowly adjust and clear her eyes. She reached inside the side pocket, relieved beyond thought that her phone was still there. There wasn't anything from her backpack in the hallway on the ground. And her laptop was in the Newspaper room, safe and sound and undamaged. Unlike her.

One she had it out, she slung her light pack over her shoulders again and moved to a wall, crawling to get there. She stood slowly and took deep, even breaths as her head screaming and throbbed harder in protest. She slowly made her way out of the school.

That's when she ran out of wall. She took a deep breath, looking around. Okay, the pole. That would help her down the stairs. And the walls outside. And then a random pipe and she used as a cane. The broken end of the pipe dug into her palms and it was just another point added to the mass of agony that was her body right now.

Man, they'd really done a number on her. It must have been more fun since she was a girl... Small, defenseless. She wondered if Jug HAD taken this beating instead of her, how much worse it would be. Or would it have been an easier blow?

Without even thinking about it or meaning to, she just began walking in the direction of somewhere her subconscious was taking her. She looked up and saw she was at the Wyrm. She was going to turn around and leave, but she finally lost her balance and her knees gave in. She fell on all fours, the last thing she saw was the White Wyrm doors opening before all she saw was gravel and dirt.

Her name echoed through the air before the pain and the light headedness overwhelmed her and she blacked out. Again.

[dantesilvadraws]

Ahh, I'm so happy to see your writing again!!! I love your work ❤ I was wondering, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, could you consider writing something w/ preg!omega!kiri, and bakugou either says something dumb and makes him upset, or he goes into labor somewhere super inconvenient and baku either has to fight the urge to be at his omega's side (maybe he's fighting a villain or something?), or they're together, but baku has to deliver their kid? Sorry if that's asking too much, thanks tho ❤❤

Thank you so much~! :D I’m happy that you enjoy my writing!! Thank you~! And thank you for leaving this ask with so many possibilities. I tried to put all of your requests in on fic, but it didn’t all make it in. I tried though!So, what did make it in is: Bakugou saying something dumb and makes Kiri upset. And Bakugou being involved with fighting a villain and wanting to be with Kirishima who has gone into labor. 

Anyway~ this is a super long fic and I did my best. :D I’m actually really proud of it and I hope everyone who reads it, enjoys it too. 

THANK YOU!!

[PLEASE DONATE TO MY KOFI]

[bakushima tag] [bnha omegaverse tag]

WARNING OMEGAVERSE

Everything that had happened in the past few days was one big horrible idea. Everything. Absolutely everything.

Bakugou had been stressed, but regardless, stress was not an excuse for some of his reckless and rude behavior. It didn’t change how he’d been acting. At the moment, he regretted his actions, he wanted nothing more than to go home and tell Kirishima he was sorry.

But he couldn’t do that right now.

He didn’t want to admit that he was scared and – and how he’d rather –

He grunted, he didn’t know what he wanted.

He thought he did but…

-0-0-0-0-

That morning, Bakugou noticed Kirishima was staring at the calendar there was no doubt that he was counting down the days to his delivery. They would be parents soon, to their first child and surprisingly, Kirishima was handling everything quiet well. He was ready, hell, he’d been ready the moment he found out he was pregnant.

Bakugou on the other hand, wasn’t as ready.

“I think we should give the pup up for adoption.” Bakugou said, suddenly, the words stumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“W-what do mean?” Kirishima turned around, pressing his hand to his back, “You don’t mean our pup, do you?”

Bakugou nodded, “There’s no way we can take care of a baby right now.”

“We’ve been preparing for months.” Kirishima argued, he frowned, “We have clothes, and bottles, and toys. Katsuki, if you were so unsure, we should have talked about this a long time ago, not when I’m thirty eight weeks pregnant.”

“We can’t take care of a baby and be pro heroes, there’s no way.” Bakugou explained, “What if something happens to us – it wouldn’t be fair to the baby.”

“Katsuki –.”

“I can’t be a father.” Bakugou decided, his voice was low and he kept his gaze down, “Eijirou I can’t – and if –.”

Kirishima took in a sharp breath, anticipating what Bakugou’s next words were going to be. This didn’t seem like him, this wasn’t being manly this was being cowardly. Bakugou had been so excited since they discovered they were going to be parents and now, now something had changed.

Actually, the closer he got to his due date, the stranger Bakugou’s behavior had become.

He was obviously scared.

“Where is this coming from?” Kirishima inquired, he was deeply concerned for the sudden change in his alpha’s attitude toward his pup, “You, you told me you were excited…and you weren’t lying! Katsuki, what are you saying?”

“I just fucking said I don’t want to be a father.”

“But you, you said you did before, I don’t understand.”

“What is there not to understand?” Bakugou growled, “Has that stupid pup fucked up your brain to where –,”

“I’m not giving up our baby just because you’re afraid!” Kirishima accused, tears began to bubble at the corners of his eyes, “You weren’t afraid months ago – why are you afraid now!?”

“I’m not afraid!” Bakugou shouted, “I’m just being realistic, we can’t raise a child and you’re in denial that we can!”

“I –.” Kirishima paused, he could feel the pup moving inside him, he sighed, “Get out.”

“Fine!” Bakugou yelled, “You take care of that pup alone then!”

Bakugou stomped toward the door and knocked down a glass vase with flowers he had bought for Kirishima a few days ago. The glass shattered into small pieces along with the sound of a door slamming.  

Bakugou hated fighting with Kirishima, but, the omega was right – Bakugou was fucking terrified of being a parent. He thought he was ready, but, came to realization that he might not be. Maybe suggesting they give up the pup was not a good way to initiate the conversation.

Bakugou managed to walk to a park where he sat a bench.

“What happened?”

Bakugou looked up and saw Mina staring at him.

“What do you mean?”

“Eijirou just called me and told me he needs help cleaning up a vase, and you yelled at him, and said you wanted to give up the pup.” Mina listed.

Bakugou was about to speak to defend himself but Mina didn’t allow it, she continued to chew him out, “Grow the hell up, Bakugou!”

“Listen I –.”

“I’m not listening to anything you say right now!” Mina shouted, “If you’re not going to take care of your pup because you’re scared then I will! I’ll help Eijirou with everything and we’ll make it so that the baby grows up and never knows you’re his father!”

“You can’t do that!” Bakugou argued, he stood up from the bench and stared Mina in the eyes.

“I thought you didn’t want to be a father.”

“I –.”

“I’m not listening to anything you have to say, and if you decide to go back home I can’t honestly say that Eijirou will take you back!” and with that she walked off, ignoring Bakugou’s demands for her to come back and talk to him.

He sat back down on the bench and hung his head down low.

She was right.

He let his emotions get the better of him, and this time, was unlike any other time because it was with his omega. Bakugou always considered Kirishima to be his omega even though they hadn’t bonded yet.

And the reason behind why they hadn’t bonded yet.

Was that Bakugou was scared.

Kirishima had wanted to bond, and had asked plenty of times but each time had ended in an argument because Bakugou was to scared to do it.

He was too afraid to let someone see and feel his overstimulated emotions, especially Kirishima.

He glanced toward the buildings of the city, maybe fighting some villains might help him clear his head.

But no.

Not even that plan worked out how he wanted.

Annoyed and frustrated with just about everything, Bakugou was careless and got captured by a villain.

It had been nearly twenty four hours since his capture and he wanted nothing more than to cuddle with his omega and apologize. Although, he wouldn’t be surprised if Kirishima wasn’t even looking for him. As far as Kirishima knew, Bakugou probably left him for good, right? After everything he said to him, Bakugou had convinced himself that  Kirishima probably wasn’t even looking for him.

But if he was found.

Bakugou decided he’d bond with Kirishima.

But, instead of making up with his boyfriend, he was stuck, he had been fucking taken hostage by some annoying-ass villains that wanted Kirishima. These guys had a grudge against him, but hopefully, he was safe somewhere –

Bakugou bit down on his lip and tried to activate his quirk but couldn’t.

He could hear the villains talking nearby, thinking they’d successfully lure Kirishima out here.

There was no way Kirishima would be dumb enough to fall into their trap.

The two villains who captured Bakugou immediately made contact with the media and informed everyone that they had Bakugou and wanted Red Riot.

-0-0-0-0-

Ida, Todoroki, and Midoriya went to collect Mina and Kirishima and relocated them to Ida’s agency so they can think of a plan.

But of course, Kirishima kept insisting he go and confront the villains, all while ignoring a pain branching around his back and lower pelvis. He knew what was happening to his body, but he didn’t want to deliver his baby without Bakugou there.

“Please wait,” he thought, “Not now, little pup.”

“We can’t let you go.” Ida told Kirishima, for what felt like the billionth time, “We’ll handle this.”

“I can use my hardening –.”’

“No.” Ida decided, “If they’re trying to lure you to them, don’t you think they have a way to combat your hardening? Maybe an acid or some way to erode your quirk?”

“But…”

“Do you know exactly how long you can keep your hardening up while in your current state?”

“Okay, not long but I think I can get everything done in time.” Kirishima urged.

“No.”

Mina took Kirishima’s hand and squeezed it, “They’ll bring him back, they just sent Izuku and Shoto over.”

-0-0-0-0-

“Why can’t I use my quirk!?” Bakugou shouted at one of his captors, a tall woman with green eyes and long black hair.

She laughed, and rolled her eyes, “Really, who knew Red Riot has a thing for dumb dirty blonds.”

“You better be happy these stupid vines have me restrained or –.” he paused, his mind putting together the puzzle, “Fuck…”

It was the vines. Thick dark green vines were constricted around Bakugou’s wrists and legs. Thorns dug into his skin, making it painful for him to try and break free, the more he struggled the deeper the thorns cut into him.

One vine was tethered around the woman’s ankle – maybe, if he could figure out a way to sever this link in between them he’d be able to use his quirk.

But how?

The woman smiled at him, she knew he had figured it out, “As long as my vines are wrapped around you, not only do you no longer have power over your quirk, but I do.” she then demonstrated by igniting little sparks from her palms.

“Just because you can use it, doesn’t mean you know how!” Bakugou snarled.

“Shouldn’t be to hard to use, I mean, since you can do it.” she insulted.

“Fuck you!”

“Oh and if they decide to send the wrong hero, like hmmm, Deku…” she began to explain, “They’ll have to deal with my brother’s quirk.”

“Which is?”

The air temperature around them began to drop by the second, the woman smiled, “It looks like someone is here to rescue you, I guess that means you’ll see my brother’s quirk soon.”

-0-0-0-0-

“Ah ow…”

At the utterance of the word, the whole room paused and looked at Kirishima who smiled reassuringly, “I’m fine, it’s just a contraction…”

Mina crossed her arms and stared at him, annoyed at how nonchalant he was about beginning labor.

“Are you in labor?” Ida asked.

“I don’t think so.” Kirishima denied.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” Mina asked.

“No.”

Ida frowned, “You said you’re having contractions, I think that means you’re in labor.”

“Eijirou, how far apart are they?” Mina spoke her concern.

“I think, about five minutes.”

“Fi-five!?” Ida repeated, surprised.

“We should take you to the hospital, just in case.” Mina urged, she stood up and took Kirishima’s hand but he didn’t want to go with her.

“Not without Katsuki.”

“We’ll have Bakugou meet us there, if you want to see him.”

“I…I do.”

“Mina, have we agreed to take him to the hospital?” Ida asked.

“Of course!”

Kirishima was hesitant to go with them, but what choice did he have? The baby was ready to see the world and meet his fathers. Hopefully, both of them.

“Okay.” Kirishima finally agreed, and allowed Mina to help him stand.

Of course this baby would have Bakugou’s impatience.

-0-0-0-0-

“You two need to get out of here now!” Bakugou screamed, as soon as a he saw Midoriya and Todoroki step through the the entrance of the warehouse, “That guy has some weird quirk, don’t go near him!”

Midoriya reacted quicker to Bakugou’s words than Todoroki, he grabbed onto his wrist to keep him from advancing further. He observed the pair of villains standing just a few feet in front of Bakugou. Both the man and the woman possessed a similar body type, although she was taller but not by much. They both had long black hair and snake like green eyes.

Midoriya noticed the vines wrapped around Bakugou and how they were attached to the woman by her ankle.

“Do you think you can do something about those vines?” Midoriya whispered to Todoroki, “I think if you just cut that one connecting the two of them that should be good.”

“No problem.”

“I’ll handle the man.”

“Don’t step in here!” Bakugou begged, “His name is Sao and he can –.”

“Don’t ruin the fun!” Sao kicked Bakugou in the chest before running toward the pair of heroes ready to rescue their friend.

Todoroki froze the ground beneath Sao, to which he smiled and said, “Not going to work.”

“Wha -,”

Midoriya wrapped an arm around Todoroki’s chest and jumped into the air. Roots sprouted from the ground, reaching up toward the pair. One root managed to wrap itself around Midoriya’s ankle but was pulled apart the further Midoriya went.

The pair landed on the roof of a nearby building, and Midoriya lost his balance and fell.

“What’s that on your leg?” Todoroki asked, kneeling beside Midoriya.

“I…I’m not sure but…” Midoriya reached for the root and tried to pull it off his leg but it wouldn’t release itself, “You try.”

Todoroki nodded, first he tried to freeze it and break it off but that didn’t work. Then he tried to burn it off, which also didn’t work, he looked up at Midoriya and said, “Hey, didn’t Bakugou say Sao had a weird quirk, do you feel okay?”

“I think so, umm, just a little sleepy.”

“Hmm…I’ll call Ida.” Todoroki decided, “Maybe he can help us think of a plan.”

-0-0-0-0-

Kirishima squeezed Mina’s hand as another contraction ripped through him, “Ow, ow, ow…”

Mina spoke on the phone to Ida who was in the waiting area, “What do you mean they haven’t got Bakugou? We need him here, now!”

Kirishima gazed up at Mina, “They didn’t – ahhhh, I – I don’t think I can do this without him!”

Mina growled and shut off the phone, “Think of this being a surprise for him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Imagine how happy he’ll be to come back and see you with the baby!” she encouraged.

“Fine.” Kirishima nodded, “Yeah, okay…”

A doctor with two nurses walked into the room, and informed, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to wait any longer, I know you’re waiting for your alpha but…”

“It’s fine.” Kirishima decided, “I, I’m ready.”

The doctor positioned herself in between Kirishima’s legs and commented, “Oh wow. This baby is ready to come out, give me two or three big pushes and you’ll meet your new pup.”

“Yeah.”

“Ready, take a deep breath and push!”

Kirishima yelled and pushed as hard as he could, the pressure in his pelvis was building up.

“The head is out, give me one last big push!” the doctor commanded.

“You’re almost there, Eijirou, you can do it!” Mina encouraged.

Kirishima pushed one last time and felt that pressure finally leave him, he laid back in his bed trying to catch his breath. The doctor held up the baby from in between Kirishima’s legs, the little pup was crying.

“He sounds so much like Katsuki.” Kirishima said, breathily.

“Yeah, but Bakugou doesn’t sound as cute though.” Mina joked.

One of the nurses quickly cleaned up the baby and handed him to Kirishima, who immediately started crying.

“Hey there, I’m Aunt Mina.” Mina introduced herself, “And this is your Dad, you have another dad too, but he’s having some problems getting here.”

-0-0-0-0-

“I’ve just been informed by one of the nurses that Kirishima has successfully given birth to a boy.” Ida informed Midoriya and Todoroki, “But I haven’t gone in to see him yet.”

“To bad Kacchan wasn’t there.” Midoriya said, with a sigh and a frown.

“I’m done talking.” Todoroki stood up and hung up the video chat, he turned to Midoriya, “When we have our first child, we’re both going to be there, it’s not fair that Bakugou didn’t get to see his pup being born. We have to save him, now.”

Midoriya smiled, and nodded, “Yeah.”

Midoriya stood up, but felt a burning sensation emitting from his ankle that had the root attached to it. The leg collapsed under his weight, but he caught himself with his hands. He looked down at his ankle and heard a ‘pssst’ sound as the root burned through his uniform and into his skin.

Todoroki cursed and used ice to cool down the root, hoping it would keep it from eroding further through Midoriya’s ankle.

“Does that feel better?”

“Umm, y-yeah.”

“I’m going to try and take this off you –,”

“It’s fine like this, we have to go save Kacchan first!” Midoriya decided, “We’ll just have to keep it cold.”

“Izuku –,”

“Shoto, please we have to save him so he can see his baby.”

“Alright fine.” Todoroki reluctantly agreed, “But I won’t hesitate to drag you out of the battle if I see things getting bad.”

“Understood.”

Bakugou’s eyes flicked from Sao to his sister Sai, as he desperately tried to think of a plan. He needed to get his omega. Shit, what if Kirishima goes into labor and Bakugou wasn’t there for him? Bakugou had to escape, he had to see his pup, and he had to bond with Kirishima.

At this point the only thing he was afraid of, was Kirishima leaving him.

Bakugou decided that the first thing he needed to do was free himself from the stupid vines.

Bakugou wanted so desperately to be with Kirishima, it was like he could smell his wonderful omegan scent.

Unknown to Bakugou the most perfect, unplanned plan was about to unfold.

Unknown to Todoroki and Midoriya, Kirishima had snuck out of the hospital and was ready to rescue his alpha. Kirishima knew his baby was safe with Mina and Ida and the nurses at the hospital. He’d come back as soon as he finished this.

Kirishima kicked down a hole in the wall, and shouted, “Give me back my boyfriend!,” at the exact same time Todoroki threw some frozen shards toward Sai and her vines. With Sai and Sao’s attention on Kirishima, Todoroki managed to sever a few of the vines around Bakugou.

As soon as Bakugou felt his quirk return, he blasted himself in the direction of Sao. Knowing that Sao had the ability to burn his opponents with the use of nearly impossible to remove roots, Bakugou wanted to take him down. Those roots could probably burn through Kirishima’s hardening.

Wait –

That’s right Kirishima was –

As Bakugou shoved Sao to the ground, he turned around to look at Kirishima who was charging after Sai. And his heart sank…Kirishima wasn’t pregnant.

He missed it.

He missed the birth of his first pup.

In frustration, Bakugou ignited a few nonfatal blasts against Sao, knocking him unconscious.

Vine’s launched out of Sai’s arms and became wrapped around Kirishima who had no idea what they could do. He figured he could use his hardening to break out the grip of the vines but by the time he realized his quirk was gone it was to late. Sai used the vines to throw Kirishima against the concrete floor.

A horrible pain racked through Kirishima from his pelvis and he screamed.

Hearing the cries of his beloved omega pissed Bakugou off, he shouted Kirishima’s name as he ran toward him. He was ready to destroy that woman, how dare she hurt Kirishima.

Sensing that Bakugou was about to kill someone, Midoriya rushed over and severed the vines with a punch while Todoroki froze Bakugou’s feet and Sai.

The vines around Kirishima disappeared to reveal blood blooming from in between his legs and staining the concrete floor.

“Eijirou!” Bakugou called out.

Todoroki thawed the ice from Bakugou’s feet and ordered him, “Take Kirishima to the hospital, we’ll deal with these two.”

Bakugou didn’t even acknowledge Todoroki, he carefully lifted Kirishima in his arms and began to make his way toward the hospital.

“Why the hell did you come here?” Bakugou hissed.

“To rescue you…because I love you…” Kirishima said, his voice was weak.

“Eijirou, I – I’m sorry…,” before Bakugou could continue Kirishima lost consciousness from blood loss.

Kirishima had to be taken to surgery in order to control all the hemorrhaging. While his omega was in the OR, Bakugou was able to meet his little pup.

The little boy had bright red eyes and straw colored hair.

Bakugou gave him a little kiss on the side of the head, and apologized, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see you being born.”

The baby just stared up at him, and yawned.

“I hope that means you forgive me.”

A few moments later, Kirishima was brought out of surgery and returned to his room. The doctor was with him, and she smiled at Bakugou, “So you must be the alpha he was waiting for.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’d like to tell you that both your pup and omega are fine, however, due to the injuries Kirishima experienced it might be almost impossible to conceive again.” the doctor explained, “If you were to successfully conceive a pup, the pregnancy will be a difficult one, so I’d advise you both be careful with your ruts and heats.”

“I understand.” Bakugou answered.

“Good, I’ll leave you three alone.” and the doctor said, then left.

Bakugou handed the little pup back to Kirishima and he began apologizing while tears ran down the sides of his face, “I’m so sorry about everything I did and that I - I’m sorry I missed the pup being born and that you had to do it on your own.”

“I’m still hurt about everything you said.” Kirishima admitted, “I think it will take a while for me to get over everything but, I love you and I know we can make everything work.”

Bakugou kissed Kirishima on the cheek, “I love you too, Eijirou.”

[prcmctheus]

beep beep y’all ur resident dumpster dweller kay here in action and ready 2 introduce u all to my Fave Boy misha who uhHHhh p much has rbf and a Thicc ukrainian accent. will this contain anything of substance other than immense rambling ?? whO KNOWS but we’ll go on this journey together but feel free to drop a like if u wanna plot and i’ll pop over to ur dm’s !!

potential triggers: death + mob activity

! ✰ ° — [ CHRIS PINE, CISMALE, HE/HIM ] mykhailo “misha” chernenko, aka agent prometheus is a thirty-five year old tactical agent that has been loyal to mercy twelve years. during that time they were injected with the gamma serum and earned regenerative healing they have a reputation of being the sagacious because they can be pragmatic & diligent. but let’s not forget they’re pretty acerbic & reticent. if you listen closely you can hear another one bites the dust by queen whenever they walk past.

okie to start off ya boy was brought into the world as михайло оландрович черненко ( aka mykhailo oleksandrovych chernenko ) but typically goes by the nickname of misha bc it’s easier and was born in kharkiv, ukraine ,,, he is a proud ukrainian and v much dislikes being deemed a russian ,, don’t do him dirty y’all . . it’s a struggle and one he will never forget n have u on his shit list ,, especially since his accent is still Thicc so any jokes will get u a side eye

his father oleksandr had strong nationalistic views , especially so when ukraine was still under soviet control and following the death of his first wife yulia ( they were visiting her family in moscow when she was caught in the crossfire of russian mob activity on her way home from the store and ultimately died from gunshot wounds ) he became heavily involved anti-russia groups back in ukraine

in 1983 when misha was born, he uHHhhHHhh wasn’t really wanted per say ?? like ,, his dad was hooking up with his mother kateryna and it was a surprise to them both that kateryna was pregnant ?? so oleksandr did the noble thing ( arguable bc he ain’t so noble ) and put a ring on her ,, mainly bc it was expected and kateryna gave him hell so u go kateryna

misha’s childhood wasn’t the best considering his parents argued more than they got along and kateryna really despised her husband from his life of crime ?? definitely didn’t agree with his ties to the ukrainian mob bc of the threat it brought to the family and especially the dirty money so she often put her sewing skills to use and made little of her own money ,, then wOP ,, four years down the line kateryna surprises oleksandr with the fact that she’s pregnant again but this time it ends up being a daughter that they name nadezhda but call nadia

it was an odd thing for misha bc for as harsh and distant as his father was to him, he had put him on this pedestal with a strong sense of idealism of what his father was like if he managed to do something to make him proud ,, despite not fully knowing in depth what his father did in the mob ( aka not good things like murder, drug trafficking and human trafficking ) so essentially that became misha’s goal in his v young life ,, he mimicked his father’s anti-russian views and showed interest in what he did for a living ,, rip 2 misha’s mom bc she nearly had a heart attack when she heard her son acting like everything she didn't want him to end up being

but with kateryna’s dismay came the affection from his father that misha had so desperately wanted and it became some weird take ur child to work day thing ,, this started when misha was around 6 years old and lasted up until he was 13 ( for reasons i’ll get into soon jndsjksd ) where oleksandr would often bring misha after school or even take him our during school ,, as some weird initiation thing of another generation of chernenko dedicating themselves to the cause of ukrainian independence

misha himself is an intelligent boy with a quick witted mind and ability to retain information and was quick to pick up on the russian language around him in kharkiv as well english ,, generally v good at learning languages and i just !!! get a lil emo thinking about the life misha could have had bc of his smarts if he didn’t get himself involved in this spy shit

his father finds it useful to start teaching misha how to properly fight bc #fambonding am i rite ,, also bc oleksandr is a shite dad who was gonna bring misha along to some  attack they were planning near the russian border from tensions between the ukrainian mob n the russian mob that was starting to infiltrate in ,, just dudes being dudes n getting territorial

let’s pray 4 kateryna when she finds out bc it’s when misha is 13 and tags along with his father to this smackdown which ?? ukraine is independent at this point by 5 years so oleksandr is trash n still chilling with the mob and when shit hits the fan and long story short, oleksandr ( along with many others ) gets killed, misha ends up severely hurt and it’s not a good time ,, but things shift bc when misha comes to he’s in a hospital bed and o shIT ,, he’s chilling with the security service of ukraine which deals with counterintelligence activity and terrorism

chilling ain’t really the term but yA KNOW ,, turns out they’ve been keeping eyes on the mob movements and misha attracted the attention of ukrainian intelligence “offered” him a role as a spy with the promise of training and serving his country proudly ,, u know ,, offered is in quotes bc hoe didn’t really have a choice but it wasn’t a hard choice bc misha was eager to help out his homeland

he didn’t officially go out into the field until he was 17 bc of extensive training in combat and espionage to help defend the still young foundation of the ukrainian government especially since it was rocky from the poor economic conditions ,, and after proving both his worth and abilities in several missions, he was activated as a sleeper agent in the russian government to get a hold of information regarding russian intelligence ,, more importantly such impacting ukraine

ya boy excelled in his position, given it wasn’t the most exciting bc it involved a lot of blending in and upholding this russian persona ,, gone was mykhailo chernenko for those three years up until he was 23 since he went by the alias of konstantin vasiliev ,, and he did well !! as someone who excelled in linguistics, his was v fluent in the russian language with a believable accent to match ( one of his best qualities in his ability to take on accents easily and rn he’s fluent in french, german, italian and spanish outside of his ukrainian, russian, and english )

things went well for the three years acting as a secretary for a high ranking russian government official and uh,, u know it helped that misha was attractive and knew how to use it to his advantage and successfully infiltrated into classified information since his superior viewed misha as just a pretty face with minimal understanding of how politics worked ,, meanwhile he was the one who spilled shit during sex so who was the real weenie

due to unfortunate events, misha’s cover was blown and barely made it out of russia alive and it was around his 23rd/24th that mercy got into contact with him and for as much as misha loved his country, he figured for his own safety it would be best to leave the area since lowkey the russian government still had it out for him ,, so he joined the mercy division as a field agent and AGENT PROMETHEUS was born ,, a couple of years into it he was convicted into taking the gamma serum which gave him regenerative healing which helps out v much when he gets shot at or generally hurt

so yeah p much ya boy has been chilling at mercy as a field agent for eleven years and generally enjoying his time here given things can’t ever really get normal as a spy ,, but it was last year that bc of numerous influences, misha decided to accept the offer of joining the tactical agents and retire his days as a field agent.

personality wise ,, misha is v devoted to his job and does this hoe ever genuinely laugh or smile ?? who knows ,, i think there’s a rumor somewhere that he’s actually a robot. def gives into the slavic stereotype where ukrainian’s never smile ,, not to mention his father ingrained into him the ukrainian saying of Сміх без причини є ознакою тупості aka “laughter without a reason is a sign of stupidity” soooOOoo he’s just a bit stoic and has resting bitch face

doesn’t really realize he’s v blunt and forthright in his speak so he can come off as an asshole ( which 67% of the time he doesn’t mean ) ,, has the patience of a saint but if u push hard enough he’ll crack ,, a bit dry on the humor but can def be an asshole when he wants to. doesn’t trust a lot of ppl and it’s hard to earn his trust ,, word the only major ppl he’s trusted was a) his dad b) the security service of ukraine and c) now mercy so kudos on getting on his good side

has no contact whatsoever with his mother kateryna or his sister nadia ,, partially bc couldn’t keep up for security n safety reasons but also bc misha is p much dead to kateryna after following his father’s footsteps, getting involved in the whole mess of ukrainian / russian political n governmental affairs and also dropping his v tiny attempt of college before becoming a sleeper agent for ukraine ,, so ya boy is on his own so u can expect wALLS around him ,, bc u know ,, he don’t do emotional vulnerability or relationships  

[fictionerd]

A little fore-word since I’m throwing this out there, it’s a pretty big wall of text, and I need something to put before the “Keep Reading” Tag. As some of you may know I’ve been following and reblogging from @colonel-crapshot. He’s a friend of mine from off the site and after one of his more recent posts I suggested we work together to create a Fictionerd vs Challenger short based on a character he’s had going in our inner circle for a while now. He’s a lot better at writing action than me, so if you like the descriptions of the fight you can place that squarely at his feet. Go give his blog a look. I’m sure you’ll find something there to be amused by. Now, without further ado: What Fictionerd was doing while Monika and Robin recapped the last two shows.

In a reality bubble, somewhere amidst the dimensional cobweb of the multiverse. A man tumbles in, “Another unfair fate, successfully challenged. Now to go home for tea time,” he muses grabbing a hold of a phantom zip pull before “unzipping” a new tear, presumably to his ‘tea time’

”YOU!” a voice booms forth from the zipper.

”Me?” came reflexive sass before a hand lunged through and ripped him into a different dimensional bubble. Our stranger dusts himself off before encountering a particularly irate gentleman wearing a wing patterned jacket, the one you all may be familiar with as the Fictionerd.

”So you’re the one who keeps fucking with the continuity of my chronicles!” accusations flying with equal portions of spittle.

”And?” came a conditioned response. The stranger was almost callously used to such criticism, not that it was untrue mind.

“You really ought to keep your mitts off other people’s things. It’s a real headache trying to separate your sickening tangents from the actual world lines,” he said. Fangs almost noticeably elongating from his canines, his eyes pupils becoming vertically slanted alongside a scaly eyeshadow like development.

“No! I’m not gonna sit around whilst Fate shits down the throats of the undeserving!”

”And YOU’RE the fucker who gets to decide that?! Sometimes shit sucks for a reason. You have no right to change that on your own account. It’s THEIR world. THEY have that right, not YOU.”

Canines began receding back to normal human length and flatness alongside his other features. The man had made his point and clearly expected this rather basic looking human to yield to his desire and to an extent his logic.

”So you’d have me sit aside and not change what I can?! NOT DO MY BEST TO HELP THOSE WHO REQUIRE IT? DO YOU WANT TO FUCKING GO?!” A piano crashed neatly upon the strangers head, with the ideal sound of crashing percussion strings ringing out its first and yet final crescendo before being lost amidst the sound of breaking wood.

”I needn’t have to.” the Fictionerd said triumphantly, beginning his walk back to the podium upon which his book normally resides. A crack resounded through the tiny yet infinite dimensional space, the crack of a piano pedal meeting a remarkably human like skull.

”YOU THINK A SODDING LOONEY TOONS PIANO WOULD STOP ME?! I’M THE CHALLENGER OF FUCKING FATE! SO LET’S THROW DOWN WILE E. COYOTE!” shock was visible upon the Fictionerd’s face before a wry smile replaced it.

”Meep meep.” he said before running off. The dimension gained scenery as he scarpered, that of a house with many doors and winding corridors. Spiral stair cases and large lounges full of furniture. The Challenger charged down the first corridor, catching glimpses of the Fictionerd flipping through his book as things fell out. Marbles and jacks, using basic geometry the Challenger sought to barrel through the door in front of him and careen through the successive walls until he appeared alongside his prey. The door gave with the ease expected, only for find himself in a corridor that shouldn’t logically exist there.

”What’s the matter, ‘Challenger’? Not enjoying the game?”

”WHAT ARE YOU? SOME KIND OF POUND STORE VENTRILOQUIST PUPPET?! IT EXPLAINS THE OBJECT UP YOUR ASS!”

”No matter what you say it’s just empty words. You can never escape from my corridor of-” the Fictionerd’s sentence was cut off by the sound of destroyed drywall with a subtle undertone of dimensional tearing.

”What?!” he’d layered in all sorts of multi-dimensional protections to prevent even the most advanced dimension hoppers escape. This dimension was entirely set up to just keep problem children like this Challenger running around until they died or cried uncle. At that point he would undo the macro from the Akashic Record of Fiction and tidy up. The time he had to ponder how such a protection was undone was short though, for he found a hand nailed to his throat as they stood once again in the null void of the dimensional sub-space.

”Now, I just wanna go home and enjoy my bloody tea. So if you can agree to-” the Challenger suddenly felt the presence of scales beneath his hand and slightly less suddenly a scaled fist planting into his face.

Fictionerd took a quick gasp for breath whilst the Challenger stood with his head staring upwards.

”I guess that’s what I get for underestimating you. The amount of multiversal trouble you’ve caused in the Akashic Record should have been testament to your ability. So congrats, you’ve convinced me to unleash my true draconic strength. Shounen enough for you Mr. Challenger of Fate?”

The Challenger’s head snapped to attention and his eyes focused, blood dripping from a split lip and a wild smile on his face.

“Somebody finally grew some nuts, eh? BRING IT THE HELL ON!” and like that they were off. A swift right flew towards Fic’s face, he scaled the zone of impact before the Challenger’s body rocked back. The foot he was stepping forward with slung backwards as his left fist flew into Fic’s gut. The impact wasn’t clean however. In the stall between the initial lessened impact and the more precisely aimed follow through Fic’s wings flared from his jacket and swelled to a more appropriate size. They propelled him into the air to prevent the winding blow the Challenger aimed for. Not about to let the flow of battle be turned on him, the Challenger jumped in pursuit. Readying another right fist attack. Fictionerd assessed his opponent in the brief second before the Challenger reached striking distance. If he had the ability to fly he would have used it by now to drive another speedy blow in. Alternately this could be another ploy for some fancy aerial fistwork. Though if it were to be fancy fistwork, then Fic would answer in kind!

He threw a right hook, intending to meet the Challenger’s blow head on. The clash resounded throughout the space before both parties were thrown backwards from the point of impact. The Challenger landed squarely, kicking up a fair dust cloud and breaking what constituted this dimensions ground into craters beneath him. Fictionerd stared down with ever more Draconic eyes before looking at his scaled hand, the knuckles of which were in the process of regrowing the scales that had been blasted off by the traded blow. The Challenger’s knuckles were also scuffed from their contact, but no worse off than Fic’s own. The Fictionerd decided he’d use this moment to turn the battle around. Fic swooped in and grabbed the Challenger before raising him high into his pocket dimension’s “roof”. The scenery changed around him, and it shifted to a more urban landscape before he moved to pile drive the Challenger into the freshly realised tarmac.

While the two combatants struggled in the open air, a strange light-blue creature stepped out onto the roof a nearby building. Sitting in the middle of the roof in a reclining lawn chair with a sunbrella and a tropical-looking drink was a young lady with long orange hair wearing what appeared to be a school uniform.

“Nya nya’s nyanya nyaing nya nyanyanya nya?” asked the strange blue creature who resembled a Care Bear’s over-buff cousin.

“Translate, Robin, I can’t understand you.

“Woops! I said ‘So he’s really fighting that Challenger guy?” Robin repeated in English(?).

“Yeah, looks like he’s going for a-”

“PILE DRIVER! Monika! He’s going for a PILE DRIVER!” Robin shouted excitedly a bit of his normal ‘nya’ speech bleeding through.

“Yup, that’s what I was going to say,” Monika muttered under her breath returning to her drink and pulling a book of poetry out of one of her uniform’s pockets.

Back at the fight: Impact loomed but the Challenger seemed unfazed, this would have puzzled Fictionerd had it not been for a chunk of tarmac flung loose from Challenger punching the ground before his skull could impact it similarly. The chunk of Ass-phalt crashed against Fic’s rapidly scaling head. Protected as he was from a death by tarmac, it hit him before he’d fully grown the scales and as such rang his bells. Deftly using his new grounding and a loosening grip the Challenger planted his second hand on the ground, kicking the rest of his body free of Fic’s grip he rolled around on his shoulder tucking himself in before exploding back out at the 270 degree mark pushing himself up from the ground to deliver a devastating kick to Fic’s chin, sending him on an uncontrolled flight before crashing into a streetside tree. Keeping his momentum Challenger landed and began to charge Fic’s limp form in the tree. Challenger jumped to find it was but a ruse! Fictionerd had taken a huge branch from the tree and smashed Challenger with it like a home run!

”You know… this is getting ridiculous. You shouldn’t be this hard to contain!” Fictionerd shouted, his breath laboured.

”What’s the matter? Gettin’ tired on me?!” Challenger boasted, his own breathing not exactly in the smoothest of orders either.

“Fine. I’ll pull out all the stops. Prepare to face the might of my true draconic form!” You’d think there would be more ceremony and bone cracking involved in suddenly growing to be hundreds of feet long, fully decked out in grey scales and rocking wings that would make a similarly sized Albatross weep in shame. The Challenger stood for a moment, Fictionerd had the closest thing a Dragon could hope to call a smirk on his now significantly bigger face.

”Awestruck?”

”You know? When I woke up this morning, I didn’t really have this in mind. But now that I’m here… COME AT ME YOU GLORIFIED FUCKING DINOSAUR!” and come he did. “Bring it on you jumped-up plot cul-de-sac!” Came Fic’s telepathic reply as he swooped down and let forth a ferocious roar before being clocked in the snout by a well-placed fist.

“Bop. Naughty.” A second fist replaced the presence of the first sending Fic’s head, and the rest of him, flying backwards. Fictionerd used his wings to re-orient and lessen the chances of his own spine being added to the list of enemies he had to face currently. Draconic instincts would only spell doom against this one, he should have known that well enough from the fist fight prior. He took to the sky, it was time to utilise his Book’s power and the might of his Draconic magic to a greater extent. One he couldn’t hope to handle whilst maintaining even his hybrid form.

”Fictional Bombardment!” He called. A mocking snort could be heard from the ground before attacks from all varieties of ‘Fictional’ media tore through the veil of this space, indiscriminately. All pulled from the many fractured timelines of the ‘Franchises’ he had experienced through his book. All of it raining from the centre of the circle he had created with his body, he COULD create something like this in one of his lesser forms. But that carried severe risk of overloading the less magically dense bodies of his human or hybrid forms. The rain came. Magical firestorms of fantasy wizards shared space with the forward cannons of Sci-Fi battleships. Anime energy waves cascading alongside more conventional weapon-fire. If it was an attack in a work of fiction he made use of it.

Fictionerd had since stopped listening to the sounds from the ground, all it seemed to be was a cacophony of explosions, lasers, and screaming. Something whizzed past his view and into the circle. Tiny fool thought he could maybe cancel it out? Whilst not the Fictionerd’s ULTIMATE attack by any stretch, it was a fearsome one and deathly hard to cancel given the sheer multitude and variety of attacks that would need to be countered. Yet another errant item flew by, probably one of the latest random attacks to be let through the gate. Where were we? Ah yes, one would need something like an Anti-fortress noble phantasm to have any hope of stopping it.

Light gathered from all around and began coalescing upon a point. Fictionerd recognised this attack, it’d be funny if this rather evidently British man was done in by the sword of his One and True King Arthur.

“EX-” that did not sound like any of the incarnations of Fate’s Saber Fictionerd knew and then he realized the attack was coalescing from the ground, not the portal, ”CALIBUR!” Golden light ripped through the scenery and holy magic seared Fictionerd’s scales whilst simultaneously destroying the gate of Fictional Bombardment. A violent gust of wind could be felt and then a madman could be seen with a golden sword disintegrating in one hand, and a fractal weapon resembling a sword clutched in the other.

“FORM: CRUSHER!” the fractal of images held in the Challenger’s hand shifted into a huge array that looked like a hammer.

“HIKARI NI NARE!” he bellowed as he leapt smiting Fictionerd from the sky. This light did not sear like holy magic but seemed to fundamentally re-write the properties of what it touched into light energy. Luckily he didn’t touch it long enough for it to get to work on anything that wouldn’t grow back.

With the Challenger closing in with that weapon, maybe it was the time for ‘That’. Hell, had pride not blinded him, Fic might have resorted to THAT earlier. Red light began pouring out of the gaps in Fictionerd’s scales. Starting at his tail and progressing towards his head. Illuminating him in a red aura.

“Insincere as it may sound. I never meant to try and kill you! Only to stop your interference with my stories.” the light reached a fever pitch and began showing in his maw.

“That don’t look good.”

”AKASHIC SEAL!” a beam of red energy leapt forward and began snaking around the Challenger, his giant hammer like fractal construct receded immediately.

“I hope you will come to forgive me. Though that day may never come depending on how far the seal has to go to contain you.”

“A SEAL, EH?! I CHALLENGE IT!” he declared before the snaking threads of the ‘beam’ wove a sphere around him, trapping him inside and out of sight.

“Struggle all you wish.” It didn’t change the nature of the seal. It used the records of fiction to rummage inside the targets mind and find the prison most suited to them. A prison of comfort from which they would never WANT to escape. The most isolated cell at the heart of a dying star. The sex dungeon of a particularly unhygienic person of the preferred or not so preferred gender. Anything was possible inside the seal. That is, except for escape.

The sounds of slashing occurred, a never ending battle field? The sound of palms against wood and Objections? Interesting addition to the scenario, but one would expect nothing less to seal such a troublemaker. Fictionerd stopped avidly listening when he heard the words “Combat fucking” being used to describe one of the scenarios. Then silence reigned. It was probably better this way, trapped inside a Fictional reality he could at least live his life out… albeit in varying degrees of comfort. Rather than just starve to death in a maze hall.

Fictionerd assumed his human form once again, breathing a sigh of relief. He opened the book and it readily accepted the energy mass back into itself.

“I hope your Seal is at least comfortable. It pains me to think of the dread possibilities that might be necessary for your confinement.” he said with a sad and exhausted tone.

”Not as much as this will I bet.” Came a familiar voice from behind Fictionerd.

“Wha-” The only thing the Fictionerd caught a glimpse of was the image of a fractal Gauntlet before he was sent hurtling across the rapidly disappearing urban setting and into his podium. The strength seeped out of him. He didn’t have anything else up his sleeve.

”Go on then, end it.” he said with resignation

“I will.” the Challenger snatched the book from Fictionerd, and Fic tensed. Expecting to be run through with a blade. Not expecting a conk on the head from a hardback book with some new writing on it.

”Contents not the exclusive property of Fictionerd?” he read aloud.

”There, get that stuck in your scaly ass brain. Round 2 might get messier if you don’t.”

”But… what? How did you even get out of the seal?!”

”Fateless.” Challenger said as he brandished the Fractal blade. “I just kept cutting until I got out. Helped a bunch of people on the way, helped myself a little too.”

“But what about me?!”

”I’ll come by and say Hi if I’m in the neighbourhood.”

”Aren’t you angry?!”

”Oh cram it. The only angry I am with you is as angry as I would be with anyone for making me late for dinner. I’ll have to MICROWAVE it now. It’s not gonna be NEARLY as good!”

Fictionerd could only balk at how little this man seemed to care that he engaged in reality warping warfare and his main priority was his ever cooling dinner.

“Hold up,” said a resurfacing Monika as she stepped through what appeared to be the sliding door of a Japanese classroom. Robin followed close behind him.

“Guests? Or Round 2 already?” Challenger asked propping his fractal blade against his shoulder.

“First off, rude! Not everyone in this library is a greed-blinded dragon. Second time and space in your native world mean nothing here. We could spend the next week having a deep philosophical conversation and our scaley friend could still get you back before your food was done cooking.”

“Uhm, that’s technically not true. I mean I could, but it’s really difficult to work against timefl-”

“I don’t wanna hear it you big, scaley baby. You threw a tantrum and dragged this guy into your own personal world to fuck with him and possibly trap him for an eternity. The least you can do is send him home to a hot meal.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Fictionerd squeaked.

“As I was saying! Third, the story-miser here has a point about your actions. As I understand it you’ve just been jumping in and spinning off timelines as and when you wish.” Monika said.

“And what’s wrong with standing up for-” Challenger… challenged. Monika just stepped on his line.

“THAT’S some dangerous stuff, and just because you can apparently bend all of reality over your knee and give it a good thrashing doesn’t give you the right to do whatever you want. Sometimes hardship is necessary to learn. YOU aren’t the sole arbiter of what is and isn’t ‘Fair’.”

“You tell him, Monika!” Fictionerd said looking particularly pathetic.

“Robin, do what we discussed to our ‘host’.” Monika said sweetly. The buff blue bear thing grabbed Fictionerd from behind and started giving him the most colossal of noogies with one hammy fist.

“No matter what you say all I’m hearing is ‘I want to fucking GO!’, Lady. You’ve got fifteen words or less to convince me I’m doing something wrong.”

“Fictionerd saved me from an ‘unfair fate’.” She smirked. Challenger lifted a single eyebrow.

“Go on.”

“Dunno if you recognize me, but I’m a copy of a character from a visual novel. It was my fate to spend eternity deleted after some particularly selfish acts on my part. However, Fic decided that ending wasn’t something he wished to enforce on a character, so he brought a copy of me here to the metaverse,” Monika elaborated, “He’s no different from you that way. He’s just more conservative in his methods. Problem is he’s also a freaking Dragon and he sees the Akashic Record of Fiction as his ultimate and perfect Horde. So the messes he’s seen you cause paired with a dragon’s natural greed and jealousy made him act like a moron.”

Challenger folded his arms over his chest, “So what do you want me to do?”

“Work something out with Fic. By the time Robin is done with him he should be cooled off enough to express himself more civilly. In the meantime,” Monika held out a hand and squinted in concentration. The sliding door appeared once more and opened onto a scene familiar to Challenger. It was his kitchen and there was a hot plate of food and cup of tea waiting for him. The effort of bending time and space was obviously proving difficult for Monika, “Still not used to manipulating this reality. The background structure isn’t as simple as a video game’s. I trust you’ll be able to find your way back when you’re done?”

Her struggling expression and heartfelt plea was somewhat undercut by the image in the background of Robin giving Fictionerd a nuclear wedgie.