#i think she used them as a teaching reference once she left the city after marriage cause she taught a whole lot
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my grandmother left me all her sewing and embroidery books from her technical college in india and it's like. five notebooks of meticulously laid out references for hand and machine sewing with how-to diagrams she did in pencil for every single stitch that are so easy to follow i think i can actually do them w/ no experience. AND samples on fabric that she stapled in between pages. i seriously think i should scan it all and upload it somewhere as this insane reference from 1940s maharastra but im still stuck in She Wrote These When She Was 16 And I Am Holding Them With My Hands mode
#im the only one who picked up a skill like this so she set them aside for me......didnt even say anything when i saw her in feb#but seriously its METICULOUSLY collected#i think she used them as a teaching reference once she left the city after marriage cause she taught a whole lot#as a school teacher but also sewing and classical singing#i cant even read marathi well and i still understood half of whats written there#idk we dont have any herilooms in the family. its this and an old pot for tadka that's from the 1800s#my brother gets that i get this i guess
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OC introduction
Emmy Campbell (Winchester)
Emmy’s been going around my head lately, so I figured I’d share with you exactly who she is.
Emmy Campbell (born Emily Winchester) is the twin sister of Sam Winchester, raised alongside him by their older brother Dean on the road.
Being female, Emmy received way more shit from John than the boys did, and as such, saw through his platitudes and apologies far earlier than they did. The second Sam had been accepted at Stanford, Emmy put her plan into place to leave, asking Dean to come with her to start a life in a new city away from John. Dean refused, and she hasn’t spoken to him in the four years since she’d left.
The thing that I like most about my lore for Emmy is that she was raised by John as a boy. John, bastard that he was, would hate any reminders of Mary, and as such refuse to raise a daughter. Whenever they were in public, John referred to her as Michael, would only buy boys clothes and keep her hair short to make her as masculine as possible. When speaking to other hunters he always referred to his children as his sons, and when Emmy left, told everyone that his middle son was dead, which is why no one recognises Emmy as a Winchester.
The funny thing about this is that John (who was most certainly homophobic and transphobic) essentially raised his cis child as trans, which is just irony in the purest form. For the first eleven or so years of her life, Emmy wasn’t too bothered about being called a boy, but as she moved into puberty and started to feel more girly, she grew to hate being forced to present that way, wanting to grow out her hair and wear proper clothes. Both Dean and Sam helped her do this in secret, having “girls nights” when John was away, painting nails and teaching themselves how to use extensions. Being able to mess around with femininity actually helped Dean feel more masculine (speed run character development lets go), and made Sam surprisingly popular with the girls at Stanford, seeing as he was able to keep up with a conversation about hair and nails.
Once Emmy left, she moved to New Orleans (I’m ignoring the time it takes to travel anywhere since canon does that as well), with a vague idea of opening up a shop selling things to help hunters.
Four years later, she has one of the most extensive hunter networks in America, owns a shop specialising in the Occult, which does under the table deals for Hunters, selling weapons, IDs and information. Most of her friends think she’s part of the mafia, she thinks this is hilarious and does nothing to dissuade them of the notion. She’s managed to speed run connections in the show, having found the Road House years before Dean ever did, and is the richest of the three Winchester’s.
She and Sam are in constant contact, Emmy visiting Stanford every few months (she gives the shovel talk to Jessica and then promptly decides they are best friends). Dean calls her every couple of weeks, but after the first few months, when it becomes clear Emmy isn’t going to pick up, he starts leaving voicemails instead. Emmy listens to every one, but refuses to call him back.
Since they are Winchester’s, none of them communicate with each other, and so neither Sam nor Emmy know that neither of them are in contact with Dean. They both think that the other is calling at least every few months, but in reality Dean hasn’t heard from either of them.
Emmy doesn’t want to see Dean at all, and she has no plans to, right up until the day she gets a call from Sam, saying that their dad is missing and Dean wants their help.
Just one last weekend, she promises herself, then she’s done. Spoiler: it’s not just one weekend
(Also lesbian!Emmy is my Roman Empire, she flirts with half the demons and more than half the women they encounter, much more successfully than Dean, might I add)
#writeblr#writing#writerscommunity#my wips#fanfic#current wip#ao3#writing community#writers on tumblr#supernatural oc#supernatural#dean winchester#sam winchester#eventual destiel#oc#Winchester oc#the winchester brothers#Emmy Campbell
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reuniting with old friends to see more sights in obama and unzen
Long time no see! I keep thinking about letting this blog die, but then I think about how happy I’ll be to revisit these memories in detail years from now, and ultimately decide to pick it back up again. The blog is really more of a gift for future me than for other people, but if people enjoy reading it, that makes me happy too. I’m going to pick up here where I left off with events from the fall of last year. Since fall is just beginning again here, some events may overlap, in which case I’ll just be able to cover them for two years in a row. Anyway, let’s get into it!
In November of last year, two high school friends came to visit me in Nagasaki. As some of you may know, I participated in a short high school exhange/host program when I was in high school. For two years in a row I briefly hosted Japanese students at my house and then following high school graduation I was hosted by one of these students in their home during my first trip to Japan. The student that I hosted in 2016 and who hosted me later the same year is named Eri.
Eri now lives in Niigata prefecture in northern Japan where she attends graduate school studying earth science (particularly glaciers, she’s so cool!!) We’ve remained in touch over the years, and we met up once during my study abroad in 2019 in Shiga prefecture. When she learned I would be living in Nagasaki for my teaching program, she promised to come visit me down here as well. She brought along another high school friend, Chihiro, who was on the same exchange program with us, but hosted by a different student. For the memories, here’s a picture of us all in high school on my first trip to Japan!
Anyway, Eri and Chihiro came with me to see Omura, Nagasaki city, and the Shimabara peninsula. In the Shimabara peninsula, we visited some places I had not explored yet, including Mt. Unzen and the famous Obama foot bath.
Mt. Unzen is a popular hiking destination and symbol of the Shimabara peninsula. One of my ALT friends even dressed up as the mountain for Halloween. Like me, Eri loves hiking and enjoying nature, but we were a bit short on time, so we decided to take the famous Unzen Ropeway to the top of the mountain instead of hiking.
It was a cloudy day, but the view was still breathtaking, especially when the clouds would move aside for brief moments to reveal the scenery. It was almost more beautiful because the glimpses of scenery were so fleeting, so we treasured them more.
The ropeway station is actually not the top of the mountain, so we climbed the rest of the way to the summit. On the way, there was a small shrine, so we stopped to pray. I pulled a fortune from this shrine and got daikichi, the best luck. This is the first time in my life that I’ve ever pulled the best luck, so it was a special moment for me on this quiet shrine at the top of the mountain.
After exploring Mt. Unzen, we hopped in my car and drove around the peninsula to Obama, a famous hot springs destination. Driving through the town you can see white clouds of steam rising from vents and smell the classic sulphur smell signalling the thermal activity which heats the public baths. I have passed through Obama many times and visited restaurants, shops, and temples there, but had never visited their arguably most famous attraction, Hot Foot 105, proudly claiming to be the longest foot bath in Japan. 105 refers to both the length of the bath at 105 meters, as well as the temperature at 105 degrees celsius.
The bath extends along the coast and you can sit with your feet in the warm water while enjoying the view of the ocean. We arrived there as the sun was setting, which made the view even more spectacular.
At one end of the foot bath, they have various obstacles you can step on to “strengthen” your feet, which usually include evenly spaced rocks and bars. I hate them because they hurt like hell, but many people enjoy walking across them to massage their foot muscles.
We explored other areas of Nagasaki during my friends’ stay, but I’ve posted about them in detail already, so if you’re interested in learning about those, check out my Nagasaki city, Shimabara, and Nodake Falls posts!
I had a really fun time with Eri and Chihiro and am so grateful for their friendship after all these years. I’m already planning to visit Eri in Niigata and Chihiro where she lives in Yamaguchi prefecture, so I’m looking forward to that. Thanks as always for reading! <3
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Terravenger - Season 5: Part Two - The Pugioh City Survival Arc - Episode 465 (Do Not Copy)
The captive Duo slowly woke up and saw a relieved Hope McCormack bending toward him.
"Thank the gods that you have finally come to," said Hope.
Duo slowly rose and found himself sitting on an old bench. He soon discovered that he was inside a small cell made of metallic bars.
Hope sat by his left side and gave a calming smile.
"Hey," greeted Duo.
The younger boy looked around for a moment.
Then Duo asked "How long was I out?"
"I believe nearly an hour," claimed Hope. "I thought they had brought a dead body in to frighten me. But I felt a pulse on your neck. I am grateful for that."
Duo felt the back of his head with his right hand as he implied "I heard you were swapped by them bastards."
"Indeed," answered Hope. "Those people had taken me after they made quick work of your team members. Your captain as well."
"No way!" cried Duo. "The L.T.? Jinxie and Iris? Even Keira?"
"Yes," Hope informed him. "All of them including Gale Reed and Ronnie Miller were taken out before one of the villains finally stole me away. I am surprised that they unlocked me from my chains once you arrived."
"Yeah," said Duo. "I remember now. Griffin and I got caught wit' our pants down against more of the enemies. We did fine until the last man showed up."
"The last man?" questioned Hope.
The regaining Duo leaned his head back and described "The guy had this scar... This big scar on his face. Some strange tattoo on his chest. And his eyes... His eyes glowed green."
"You must be referring to one of their leaders," replied Hope. "I did overhead that the man wants to see Dev dead."
"Dev?" questioned Duo. "You mean Elken?"
Hope gave a soft laugh and replied "Devin Elken, yes. This man plans to annihilate Devin. He also wishes to erase the entire legacy of the Elken clan."
Duo blew a small breath and revealed "They may have done it already. I think them bastards were tryna destroy the entire castle."
"What?" cried a shocked Hope. "Was Devin there with you?"
"Elken's fine," answered Duo. "He left with some of his men to the Mafic Isle. He and his army. Justy and his guys too. And the L.T. and some of my guys."
A worried Hope lowered her head and cried "No! He is leading Devin into a trap! Devin mustn't come!"
"A trap?" questioned Duo. "And who the hell you talkin' about?"
And Hope placed both hands around her head.
She told the young soldier "He said that Devin is needed for the resurrection of his master!"
After that, a scared Hope leaned her head on the gated door at the front of their cell.
"Sir Drako is dead," said the woman. "There is no use of hiding this now."
"Hidin' what?" asked Duo.
And Hope faced the youth with fear in her eyes.
Terravenger -- Season 5: Part Two -- Episode 465: The Survival Arc -- The Queen of DSL
A few minutes later, Hope slowly fell on the ground as her back remained on the gated door.
The emotional woman informed Duo "Dev and I... Well, Devin and I... We have known each other for as long as my cousin Paige has been friends with Drake and Silvan Justinian."
"Drake?" called Duo. "Elken's brother?"
"Yes," responded Hope. "My mother used to bring both Paige and I to see the Elkens in Pugioh for many years. Sally had many of her fashion shows in the city. While Paige had trained with Sir Drako, I had spent time with Devin. Devin was a quiet and emotionless person around many people. But he always opened up to me. He did teach many things to me from riding a horse to drawing portraits."
"I figured Elken was the artsy-type," commented Duo. "Cool."
The kind Hope shook her head and continued.
"Many years went by, and we continued to stay in contact. But one day, Devin had declared his love for me. He asked for my hand in marriage. But we both knew that neither our parents would not approve. So, he and I traveled to a small village near Pugioh. And we married in secret with only a priest."
Duo jumped off the bench and cried "You tied the knot with Elken?"
"Yes," answered Hope. "I am the Wife of the Strong Arm."
"Then that would make you a princess or somethin'," implied Duo.
And Hope told him "These people. Somehow, these people had discovered it and kidnapped me. They plan to use me to lower Devin's defenses. And this appeared to be his plan -- the Bringer of Light."
"So Meph's behind this," replied Duo. "I shoulda known. Then that guy that talked to you. It was probably that Goran guy."
"Goran?" repeated Hope.
Duo lowered his head and replied "The Purple Lady... Alexis Sanyo. She told us about Goran, everything. He works for Meph. And the guy with the scar's gotta be Mayne. Meph's usin' Mayne to raise up from prison, or somethin'."
"Mephistopheles," added Hope. "He wishes to use Dev for his plan as well."
Duo leaned his head on the wall and responded "I guess that's the jest. And Meph is tryna either destroy everythin' in the universe or take it over."
"He plans to dominate every realm with only Power and Chaos," directed Hope. "Mephistopheles is a high force. He may have influenced many events in order to quicken his release from his imprisonment."
And Duo thought to himself "Maybe Meph had somethin' to do wit' Tai's death."
Suddenly, the gated door had opened on its own.
"What the hell?" cried Duo.
Hope stood at the front of the opening as Duo hurried beside her.
"The hell's goin' on here?" asked Duo.
Hope looked around carefully as she asked "Do you believe this is the work of him? This Goran character?"
"Dunno," whispered Duo. "It's gotta be a trap."
The pair continued to face forward.
And Hope replied "We should press on. Perhaps Goran or another has requested an audience. And the two of us are their guests of honor."
Duo shook his head and said "Okay. Let's go. Maybe we'll find a way outta this shit-hole."
The pair finally walked on, but with caution.
"Before we head to possibly our deaths," Hope told him. "I may as well share with you another piece. This is something that Sally and I have not told a soul. Even Paige does not know of this."
"I'm all ears," said Duo.
The sensitive Hope shook her head and spoke.
"This story involves both my mother and I. Many years ago, Sally had hired an associate whose job was to help in everyday activity at DSL, my family's fashion house. This was long after Sally's first husband had died. The name of the associate was Clark Grey. After a short number of weeks, Sally had fallen in love with her worker. But she was still married to her second husband, Ben Kincaide."
"Wow!" cried Duo. "Mommy Sally was cheatin' on her husband?"
And Hope continued.
"Eventually, Ben found out about their monthly affair and divorced Sally immediately after a week. Sally continued to see Grey long after the divorce was finalized. But everything was destroyed after one very night. Grey had brought Sally to a local restaurant while she lived in South Height City. The man secretly laced a glass of wine which he had given to her. And Sally felt weary until she finally fell unconscious. Sally awoke and found herself laying on her bed."
Tears slowly fell from her eyes as Hope revealed "Then she discovered her clothing was ripped open. Finally, Sally figured out that she was abused sexually by her date, and many of her jewelry were taken. A few months had passed, and she discovered that she was expecting a baby. And I... I was the baby."
A shocked Duo stopped and faced the emotional woman.
"Sally was raped?" cried Duo.
Hope held her hands together and told him "And I... I was the product of that rape."
Duo lowered his head and thought to himself. Meanwhile, he placed his right hand on his forehead.
"So?" He asked. "That bastard? He did your mom in the worse way? And she got pregnant with you 'cus of that?"
After that, Duo looked up at Hope who stood before him.
"Life..." implied Duo. "Life musta been hard for you."
Hope wiped off her tears using the fingers from her left hand and revealed "Actually, it wasn't. Sally never thought of me as such. She loved me like she has always with her other children. I was an honored student since I was very young. And I had a good life."
A supportive Duo shook his head and Hope added "Ever since I was born, Sally had never thought of me as a burden. She... She was the greatest to me."
Duo soon gave a soft laugh and said "I always thought Sally was a loon, in a good way. But she's so brave. To go through that. She's somethin'. And I'm glad you came out okay."
Hope gave a comforting smile and replied "I agree. Sally is an original. She has always been a great voice to not only those in her family, but to everyone around her. One of the main reasons why she opened her business with Davis Lord was to be a help to everyone, especially those who didn't have much. She has a big heart. She is just a caring person."
"She sure is," said Duo. "Sally's a big name in this world. Even people like me respect the hell outta her."
Then he placed his right hand on the left shoulder of the loved woman who still had her back turned.
And Duo replied "I know Sally's waitin' in Midas. So, we gotta find a way outta this place. Then you'll get to see her again."
A happy Hope faced Duo and shook her head.
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Akumu Kokuryuu was SUBJECT 02 during her young years. She was originally a human with a disability of hearing loss. She was a student who is very reserved to herself at a high school. She was no older than 17 earth years old. She wasn’t expecting her life to turn upside down when she was snatched by a unknown human and brought to a completely different world.
Blackstar was the one in charge of all experiments that team conducted on her and few selected others. He himself made sure Akumu does not act out by teaching her to control her emotions and her behavior. This is also done by keeping her mind in a constant state of empty. This causes her to become emotionally empty for a long time. Blackstar continues to experiment on the body to see the human body’s limit. He turned her nearly full Royal Dragocian. This opens up more possibilities for the body and allowed energy absorption. After turning into a Dragocian, Akumu was forced to train until exhaustion. She had trained in many different combat skills and had tested her skills to see she can get herself out in a complex situations. She was successful in such training, including various weapon training.
There was a accident occurred behind Blackstar’s knowledge and the scientists made sure to covered up the Red Zone accident by placing some Guardian energy in her. This allowed her to actually think and realize the pain she went through. The scientists begged her to not to show emotions when Blackstar is around. She agreed and made sure she didn’t. She held back so much until one final experiment. To see the body can absorb all the synthetic Guardian energy. It was successful and allowed her to release her emotions as she used it to escape. Blackstar was furious and attempted to hunt her down but failed to do so since she disappeared completely.
After escaping the Blackstar’s lab, she found herself in a small remote village. She wandered there, completely lost as she doesn’t understand dragocian language nor any other languages spoken there. She received a lot of stares and confusion when she arrived. Until one stepped forth to help her. They asked if she needed help but she tilted her head completely unable to understand what they were saying. The tattoo on her left was hardly visible and it was bright outside to allow them to actually see what she is. She was a nobody but a lab experiment to someone’s greed. They knew that tattoo’s font. They knew who it was as Blackstar was famous for taking small children and even adults. Most, if not all, never returned.
[This is such a old art I had of em. X,D] [Blackstar]
The people sat down as they were surprised that a dragocian escaped the lab and they tried to talk to her until one thought of the old language, English. Then, they realized this dragocian was once a human, now a full Dragocian. Even it’s a rare breed of the Dragocian since it was nearly extinct, due to the over hunting of their scales and for being slaves during the human wars. They were surprising and very saddened by the fact Blackstar now hunts humans as well. Even speaking English, she seemed to understood it but lacked the ability to speak.
They then taught her how to read, write, and even speak Dragocian languages. They taught her how use magic and how to properly fight. (Needless to say, they were impressed by how well she fights.) After learning all that, they gave her the name as to refer to her dark scales and how she fights, Akumu. Her last name was given much later after she was crowned a Queen. She then worked on earning everyone’s respect and trust as a simple knight/warrior. Then, she later shown exceptional leadership in the small group of warriors to protect the village and even quelled the angry sides by making deals and offering help to both sides. This earned her trust and respect. The village leader then decided that village is ready to move on into a bigger land, into a city-sized. The technology advancements allows them to expand their knowledge and their magic.
Akumu watched it grow from a small village to one of the largest known city on Altea. She is proud Queen and protector of White City.
#lore dump#oc lore#loresona#lore#furry character#furry community#furry artist#furry fandom#furry art#furryartwork#furry#furrydrawing#dragon oc#guardianakumu
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if fans wanted to include peach in stuff they write, would that be okay? and how would they write peach's personality? aside from "FIGHT ME" anyway, i think that much is a given lol. i only really write the anime characters 'cause that's what i know, but it sounds like it'd be kinda fun to try making a version of ash that fits into this blog's universe! nerf'd Obviously, but i think she'd probably appreciate how hands-on he gets when training his pokemon!
Ok, I get a lot of these messages, and I often hear folks wanting to throw peach into their stories and comics and writings, and I will always simply ask that if it’s published online publicly, to be linked to it so I can snoop and enjoy the content too. If someone asks about her in your work, let them know about the blog I guess? But literally I love that people take this stuff, these characters and stories, and make new stuff with it. No ones making money off my work here? So where’s the issue? Go for it buddy, knock yourself out, I’m all for it.
For you, and all the others out there who want to add peach, and other characters to your world building, I will give you a detailed rundown of the main lot, and how they behave, what they do, how they function. You can use that, use bits, or use none of it, I do not mind at all. If you’re creating something, you’re in control, not me.
So, peach doesn’t actually fight people as much as you’d think. She’s very aware most cannot and do not want to do that, and so she likes to keep to herself with regards to that aspect of her life, she doesn’t ask to spar with people, or even bring it up at all, but people ask her all the time, even if they clearly would lose or become hurt should she miscalculate during the fight. She looks at people like they usually create problems, and often has a somewhat reserved nature to other humans. You have to work quite hard to get anything more than formalities out of her. She will dead-pan handle people with blunt and very to-the-point statements, aid whenever possible, but very quickly get back to handling the Pokemon she so carefully tends. Her focus is clear, she’s all about hard work, her very small select family, and the Pokemon.
Her brutal, loud and brash personality only comes out with friends, family, difficult humans, OR any Pokemon. She will joke and laugh and play with Pokemon, but clam up around humans, maintaining tight body language and generally will be a little cold by regular standards. She does however have some weaknesses in this emotionless shield she puts up. When peach was young she was always angry, which swung so fast to sadness, back and forth. Her teenage years it just got worse and worse, it was crippling at points. She is to this day, full of fire and rage, even sadness, but now she has learnt to control it, to use it. When she sees that in others, it’s familiar, and she is pushed to drop the front, and be very real with the person. Underdogs I suppose, people who get bad reps, but deserve the same as everyone else. She can’t ignore it.
Once you start to pry open her personality, you’ll find she’s a lot more laid back and fun than originally appeared, you just have to work hard to find that side of her. She will meme reference, can’t dance to save her life, loves her coffee, and can be caught in quiet contemplation while gardening. This hobby is her calmest, and often is why she can stay so level headed when her quiet rage boils up again. Without time outside she will become grouchy, a little snippy, and lethargic. Will not go in the ocean for any reason other than life or death, is fine with ponds and rivers, or water at wading height. Likes the rain.
With regards to her training others, they usually have to tolerate her somewhat strict nature. She is a little....unforgiving, holds a grudge if you make a lot of mistakes, and has no tolerance for ignorance in the age of information that we all live in. In previous posts I’ve mentioned she’s only recently selected two students, after many years of testing kids who want to learn from her. Hundred tried out, only two have ever been approved. How she teaches is very fast paced, be prepared to get some scrapes and bruises, she will test your physical and emotional tolerances with intense tasks, carefully watching students like a hawk. Bad posture in your stance? She’ll be the first to tell you to sort it out. Not hearing your Pokemon partner? Right, now you spend the day without using words trying to communicate, let’s see how you like not being listened to.
This is a woman who has spent her life saying very little, and watching everything, she watches Pokemon and can see an issue from a mile off, and in battles, her observations are why she can react fast, and chose effective strategy to avoid damage and achieve results. Don’t let her body fool you, her strongest asset is analysing, watching, planning. Those skills have over the years transferred to people too. As a student, mistakes don’t go unnoticed with this professor.
Her methods are harsh but fair, and should you prove yourself, she will protect you with her life.
Because of her disinterest in kids and lots of noise, she does pass the training of students on to the other staff members whenever possible. Grey takes on the lions share of battle lessons, he is far calmer, more open and friendly, with patience for people, and an empathy that peach sometimes struggles to have. When you go through a lot of harsh training, and difficult events, it’s hard to change how you feel or think, with peach, well, she’s been through it. Most do not come out the other end in one piece, but she did, and it made her strong. You may think I mean strong like buff and big, and yeah sure she is, but I mean it mentally more than anything. Peach will not quit. She has learnt to destroy the boundaries that stop people getting hurt, gone is the fear that freezes you in your tracks, that feeling that you’ll pass out if you go one more step. She’s learnt to ignore it.
This means she’s a little forgetful at how it is to be normal, to be vulnerable and soft and squishy like students so usually are.
She has her issues, but for the most part, visitors get a laugh, a smile, a calm assertive confidence, and facts. She will indulge those who have genuine interest, or show a connection with nature, an understanding of the balance that needs to be struck for everyone to live well together.
Despite her many flaws, she’s fiercely protective, and will go above and beyond to defend the island, it’s staff, the Pokemon and the visitors. Injustice is her biggest gripe, along with littering, and she doesn’t stand by quietly if something happens that seems unfair.
You will not see her without Valka, her vulpix, close by. That Pokemon doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, at all, and will run the second someone comes at her with that intent. Peach will scold you for pushing yourself onto her, should you persistently try to get close to pet Val. They are in sync, if peach is sad, Val is sad, if Val is stressed, peach is stressed, and so on. They are inherently connected, it’s just been that long, the psychic bridge between them has been built, and reinforced over the years.
The only other Pokemon who follows her so endlessly is Booker, a teddiursa who’s pretty rough looking. He quietly trots behind, grouchy and stoic, they fight closely together a lot. He lost his mom a long time ago to poachers, and peach took him in, and changed her whole life for him. Not many people know, but Booker was the reason she left the rangers, changed career, and got so strong. Will tolerate people petting him but isn’t keen at all, grumbles a lot and tries to move away.
You may also need to know about the others, for the sake of writing, she here a few more bits that may be important to you, or others wanting to do this.
Grey is very tall, very burly, composed, tells bad dad jokes, is a bit of a goof if allowed to be. If he sees a pun, he’ll say it. Can’t help himself. Very nice guy to work with, good at keeping people calm and grounded. Pokemon are drawn to him like a moth to a flame, he gives off warm energy, and has inhuman amounts of patience. If you wrong his family however, he will snap back.
He grew up in the city, loves to swim and hike and cycle, can snowboard, is really sporty. A total brain box with held items, and boosting stats. He will explore many paths, to make sure visitors and students get the information they need, in a way that can be remembered and retained for later. Is a huge guy, but will get on the floor to play with a tiny Pokemon. Treats big “meaner” looking species like babies, very good with all pokemon.
His free time is spent either tinkering, swimming, or trimming his bonsai trees. This guy stares at screens a lot, so appreciates time away from them. Peach built him his own little greenhouse for his trees and tools, which he keeps clean and loves dearly.
His methods as a teacher are built around fun and games, he makes hard work easier to do by distracting trainers from the difficult bits, and focusing in on something more interesting or compelling.
His most commonly seen Pokemon would be a houndoom, Saxon, old battle veteran, retired now to herding and being a good boy. Very gentle, loves a pet.
Pari, now a fully fledged nurse, often oversees the labs front desk and pokecentre features, such as healing pokemon, and informing trainers who come to visit. Her skills with eggs and hatchlings is high, she’s great with younger Pokemon, and hands out good advice to trainers a lot. She’s not a fighter, never was, but can find any file, any study, any book, and any refrence you may need. A true bookworm, loves her romance novels, chat shows and upbeat celebrity gossip mags. Will cry at a lot of stuff, be it sad or happy.
She’s got a seriously upbeat personality, but if caught off guard or shocked, she gets a little flustered. Too much chaos will overwhelm her, but usually she’s on top of things. The years spent on the island have made her better at maintaining composure in emergencies. With lots of siblings, she’s very competent with others, and has a good ability to disarm cagey people with her jolly nature. Because of this, she can sometimes gain information from trainers that some of the more harsh professors may not have access to. Charming is a word for it.
Her partners are an eevee, and a happiny. They are quite sweet and well adjusted, the eevee gets a bit bouncy if you get it too excited.
#if you dont want to use the refs#im really cool with it#just enjoy yourself buddy#pokemon#prof.peach#peach talks#prof.grey#pari#dotaku island#dotaku staff#PLEASE#just ask me if you dont know something#or feel i missed something in what i wrote
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Hello may I ask if u can do Morro headcanon
*clasps hands* CAN YOU??? oh get ready for this i have sm to say
• for starters, morro wu is the name they go by!! the very first time sensei wu heard morro refer to himself with it he cried so hard
• morro is nonbinary, going mostly by they/them and he/him pronouns, but if you used she/her or anything of the like they wouldn't mind :)
• biromantic and greysexual!! can you tell im projecting yet?
moving onto my purely personal stuff:
• they play violin!! they picked it up after coming back to life. the wind responds to the song their playing. its a beautiful sight
• morro %100 needs glasses. do they get them?? no
• his gi's now associated more with the color yellow. he wanted to move away from green, and yellows pretty (and one of the few gi colors not taken already)
• cats!!! they love cats so much!!!!!! feeds all the strays. they love him
• the once green stripe in their hair is now grey, and they have a ghost scar across their left cheek, reaching all the way to their chin
• 100% was forced to read starfarer bc of jay and lloyd. he says he hates it (he ADORES it)
• they wear skirts and dresses when they feel like it!! clothes they can feel their element in? fuck yeah!!!
ok now done with the personal headcanons, onto more specific stuff :)
• in my 'morro is revived/redeemed/he just stays like we all wanted him to' au he does not move in directly with the ninja, instead living higher up in the mountains, in a small town southeast of Ninjago city. they feel at peace there, up in their element, away from most modern technology.
- both he and the ninja liked this decision more, while wu did not, but I'll get into their individual dynamics more later
-he doesnt really talk to anyone from the village, but anytime he goes to buy supplies and stuff he tries his best to give money and food to the homeless he passes. especially children.
-the children of the village therefore deem him a myth, some tell ghost stories of him, and others call him a good luck charm. morro thinks this is adorable, really, and plays into it; giving vague fortunes everytime a kid points him out.
• the ninja and wu definitely come to visit him sometimes too, and no matter how many times they do so morro's always suprised they care. the first time lloyd came to visit them on his own they were so astonished for like the next month
• whenever there's a world-threatening villain present and they need his aid, it is painstakingly obvious. they normally come to him all chill, but whenever they need help they come to him like akward in-laws.
- *sliding inside their door* "heyyy morro-"
- *exhausted sigh* "what is it now? another giant snake???"
NOW speaking of his relationship with the ninja
• this is a vv common headcanon, but morro and cole would become friends the fastest i think. oh? you were a ghost too? you like food?? quiet and prefers to not be in social situations??? hey bestie
- bonus thing: morro hasn't heard of cake because they were first an orphan/homeless, and when they were adopted by wu they were too focused on getting their body in perfect condition to eat sweets. therefore, a conversation between them has most definitely happened like this:
- "hey, morro, im craving sweets, wanna go get some cake?"
- *genuinely confused* "whats cake?"
- "..."
- "cole???"
- "oh you poor sweet summer child"
- tldr; out of kai, zane, jay, nya, and cole, morro and cole get along the best!!
• i think morro and jay would get along mostly by jay being the one who informs him of modern technology. y'know, teaching him about it. morro flipped his lid the second he learned what a microwave was.
- i also think jay brings out his inner sassy side. they have a lot of nicknames for each other.
- oh also also you know how nya can move ice if she tries hard enough? jay can just barely move wind, same goes for morro with lightning. they definitely use each others powers responsibly
- (jay almost caused a minature tornado once and morro made a week long power outage. they don't speak of those things)
- tldr; morro feels rather relaxed around jay. even if he takes a lot of their energy, its not too hard for them to get along. they would probably cause doomsday if left alone together for too long tho
• morro and zane!! or as I like to call it; therapist friend to therapist friend
- while untrusting of morro for a while, Zane was able to connect with them by seeing their walls come down
- i think morro would go to zane to vent if need be, hes a great listener. same goes vice-versa.
- both wind and ice are very reactive to their weilders emotions, so like it or not, these two have to bottle up their feelings sometimes for the safety of others
- thats why they work so well together, actually. fire, earth, lighting, and water arent as emotionally reliant. and we're getting 2 energy
- whenever zane is over and makes food morro will steal some or get thrown out the kitchen trying
- tldr; their friendship is very (heh) chill
• kai and morro!! aka 'i don't like you very much but we have the common interest of protecting lloyd to make up for past mistakes so ig ill tolerate you'
- unstable relationship!! they bicker the most, lloyd mostly being the peacekeeper
- they have their moments tho
- i think kai would've found morro in a vulnerable state once, like crying or having a panic attack or something, and he just sat next to him and held his hand
- they both refuse to acknowledge that happend, but they were nicer to each other after it
- they don't get along very well mostly to kai holding a grudge, but morro doesn't blame him. they haven't completely forgiven themselves, either
• morro and nya. dictionary definition of 'its complicated'
- can they get along and work together? yes, surprisingly so. do they WANT to? nah
- even though hes human again, morros still highkey-lowkey scared of nya. its the ptsd innit
- thats why nyas so compliant with him in the first place, bc even though she holds almost a big a grude towards them as her brother, she sees morros use
- i do think they made a small storm once though, using their powers. just out of boredom. it was beautiful
• and last but most certainly not least: disaster cousins! i cant fit these two's entire journey together in this one post, but I'll highlight the most important bits
- loyd was terrified that morro survived the drowning of the Preeminent, so he was immensely relieved that morro wasnt staying with them
- the first time they saw each other after styxx shit was so akward. they were left alone in a room together for 5 seconds and they hated it
- lloyd never wanted a verbal apology from morro, saying that the only way they could probably get forgiveness is through action
- only got close to morro after he proved himself through his actions. i mean, after helping them and Ninjago many times, lloyd couldn't say he hated them anymore
- the first time lloyd visited on his own with the intention to just, like, hang out; morro broke. mf bluescreened. thought he was hallucinating for a solid 20 minutes.
- they play video games together and read comics and the like.
- they rarely do anything like sparring tbh. whenever they're together they let their inner children come out
- lloyd: *bringing out a coloring book and crayons* "hey I know we're like in our early 20's but-"
- morro: *snatching them* "y e s"
- Morro's EXTREMELY overprotective to compensate for what hes done. lloyd doesn't stop them, he knows it makes them feel less guilt, but it does get a liiitle overbearing sometimes
- wu bawled once he learned they were getting along, the hardest he cried in a while
- tldr; these two mean SO MUCH TO ME
do i have more? oh, yes, many. am i stopping? yes, sadly. i don't want peoples Tumblr to crash once they see this post.
#I DID SO MUCH GHOULIE GOT ME IN A DEATH GRIP 💀#ninjago#morro wu#ninjago morro#ninjago headcanons#i spent like an hour and a half on this hel p#asks tag
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Birds of a Feather
Chapter one
Pairings: Canon!Levi x F!reader
Content warnings: violence, swearing
Word count: 4K
Summary: You were the most notorious criminal in the Underground City. With your organisation of highly skilled professionals, only one man could take you down. He also happened to be Humanity’s Strongest… and your ex.
A/N: asdfghjkl hello there. so, this has been on my brain for a while now, so i started this as just a drabble. what i thought would stay as just a drabble turned into this 22k+ multi chapter fic because i have zero self restraint or self respect. i’m currently finishing chapter 5 as this is being posted, but i want to keep chapters posted around once every two weeks so i can keep up with the workload. maybe once a week if i start feeling spicy. yeah plot twist this is actually the second time i’ve drafted this up. the first time i managed to get everything done and in order and then manages to delete the entire post with my huge disgusting thumbs. Genuinely felt like crying for a good half an hour.
This is also my first Levi fic! yay! lmk if it sucks and idk i’ll cry or something. nah, in all seriousness please send me criticism cuz i really want to improve and critiques are the best way.
𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔
“How down, Raven?”
“Six feet.”
Within the dank confines of a stinking alleyway, two green capes marked with the Military Police insignia crept ever closer to the taller, run-down building upon which you and your little squad of Shadows were now perched. No sunlight illuminated your position. Not that you’d ever seen the sun, or know what it even looked like, but you based your guesses upon the pathetic rays shining through the grates littering the ceiling of the Underground City.
The language you used with your Shadows, coded words translated to:
‘How do you want them to be dealt with?’
‘Death.’
It was something developed by your late guardian and mentor, Viper. See, you all had aliases in The Nest, your criminal organisation. The leader was often referred to as The Raven, however your mentor preferred to use his own nickname, stemming from his own reputation.
Then come the aliases for your Shadows. Prongs was your second, a tall, stern looking man with the black mask of a stag settled across his features.
Then came Wolf, and you swore the first time you’d set eyes on him, you thought a titan had wandered into the city. He was enormous, all 6ft 6ins of him carved in hard muscle. Slicked back silver hair and a beard that to rival a bear. Similar to Prongs, a mask sat upon his face, resembling that of a snarling wolf.
Following him was Verdant, Scales and Diablo. Your power trio. Though their special talents lay in different professions, get these three together and they were borderline unstoppable. A white mask decorated with three broad maple leaves obscured Verdant’s pretty features, Scales sported a bronze half mask etched with a snake-like diamond pattern, whilst Diablo, your trained escort, had opted for something that accentuated her own gorgeous features, a mask of black leather arcing high onto her brow on the left side, whilst the right arced low by her jaw. Though you were already spoken for, you couldn’t deny the beauty of Diablo. She did wonders when prying information between the legs of a moaning MP.
To your left crouched the twins, Una and Leaf. Una was gifted her name by none other than you yourself, after seeing her accuracy with a rifle. A single shot was all it took, from any distance. She wore no mask, something you’d allowed simply because she’d complained about the sight obstruction when lining up a shot. You’d agreed, but only under the condition that she wore a low hood. Her fiercely protective brother Leaf had chewed you out for that, but you knew he meant well. Leaf was good at what he did, excellent, in fact. Which was part of the reason you kept him on as a Shadow. The larger part was that you were damn fond of him. Of all of them, in fact. You loved every single one of your Shadows. Every single damned member of The Nest, you adored. You were their leader, afterall.
A masked helmet of black leather, similar material to Diablo’s, perched snug upon your own features. The hooked beak and obsidian feathers of a raven decorated the necessity, covering your face and hair, though leaving your lower features visible. It was a rite of passage, for you especially, and it signalled the start of your leadership.
“Una, set up. Verdant, Prongs, roundabout. Wolf…” your eyes slid to the giant man on your right, a dark smile slicing across your mouth. “Heel.”
The boulder of a man visibly sagged, clearly disappointed at your orders whilst the others sprang into action. Prongs and Verdant leapt across the rooftops in separate directions whilst Una removed her rifle from her back, parting her heavy cloak to reveal rounds and rounds of bullets strapped across her body. Leaf nestled closer into her side, whilst the other four took a step back. It was obvious you’d all been at this for a very long time, despite the twins not looking a day older than sixteen. In fact, most of your squad was younger than you, save for Wolf and Prongs, who had served their respective roles twice previously.
Sitting back on your heels, you watched your team get to work, the warmth of pride blossoming in your chest. Whilst you knew Prongs and Wolf were already incredibly skilled, the rest had flourished under your leadership. It had been ten years since you’d witnessed MPs put a bullet through your mentor’s skull. Ten long years since you’d taken up leadership and expanded the reaches of The Nest. Honestly, you were pretty proud of yourself, and none more so than when you watched your Shadows do what they do best.
Taking care of unwanted visitors.
Una took aim, resting the butt of her rifle in the crook of her shoulder, staring down the makeshift scope. She would be ready to take care of the two soldiers if either Prongs or Verdant failed to eliminate their targets.
Speaking of which…
That kernel of pride ignited as your (E/C) eyes followed Verdant’s careful, calculating form dropping from the rooftops above the alleyway, in sync with Prong’s own movements. The two assassins swooped with the grace of a stooping hawk, the silver glint of metal caught your eye as they both brandished their blades, before sinking the steel into the necks of the two soldiers. You didn’t need to be closer to see they were both dead. Expert precision. Deadly accuracy. That was why these people were your hand-picked Shadows. And why you were the most formidable gang leader in the Underground City. Your little criminal organisation had expanded into something to rival the killcount of Kenny the Ripper. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought.
Una lowered her weapon, strapping it back in the buckles between her shoulder blades.
“Finished.” she simply stated, turning back to drop down between the shattered tiles and splintered ceiling beams that marked your entrance and exit to this lookout point.
“Rendezvous back at The Nest,” you ordered flatly, before dropping forward and into the alleyway below.
“Anything?” you ask, a brow raised behind your raven mask as you saunter over. Prongs held up two sets of blades from one of the crimson bodies now gathering dirt and grime. Useless to you as they were, but somebody would definitely find an interest in them. Verdant seemed to be struggling with the straps of whatever gear these mosquitoes used to fly around. You’d never been able to figure out how to use it, but that shit made good money when in doubt. However, your usual buyers had disappeared off the face of the city, and you’d noticed a decline in gear sales since then. Gritting your teeth, you shook your head to Verdant, laying a hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t. It’s not worth it. The thug trio haven’t been back in years. I doubt they’d return to us now,” you explain softly, prompting the girl to stop her struggles and huff defeatedly. You’re heart ached softly at the thought of him, but you pushed the feeling down.
“Here,” she muttered, handing you another rifle. It seemed to be a newer model, something of an upgrade for Una.
“You did good, Ver. I’m proud of you,” that seemed to immediately lighten the girl’s mood, her eyes shining behind her mask as her mouth widened into a toothy grin.
“Thanks Raven!” she beamed, before scampering off back to The Nest, almost forgetting to take the gun back from your outstretched hand in her haste to make it back and tell everyone she’d received a compliment from you. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence. Rather it only happened once in a blue moon…
A huffed chuckle had your head turning and eyes narrowing to your second in command.
“Can I help you?” you ask, your tone dripping with the poisonous threat of hell if he chose his next words poorly. But Prongs continued to smile ever so slightly, shaking his head.
“Not at all, Raven. It’s just, in the last few years, since you drafted her into the Shadows, she’s really come into her own,” Prongs explained simply, shrugging as she stooped to kick over the now drained corpse, hoping to find anything useful. You bristle ever so slightly. That was something you hated. Compliments. How the fuck were you supposed to respond? You tried to think back to when Viper tried to teach you simple social skills.
“Uh, yeah. She has,” you respond, keeping your features as neutral as you could as you turned away, beginning to trudge back to The Nest.
“I’m serious, Rave. You’ve done incredible things for us. You know Viper would be proud of you. I am too. But…” Prongs trailed off, clearing having something to say but not knowing how to say it.
“Go on. But what?” you pressed, wanting to hear what your second in command had to say.
“Well, don’t you think it’s a bit much? Rave, it’s been years. Eyes have started looking in our direction since those three vanished. You don’t think we should be lying low for a bit? Calming suspicions instead of rousing them?” Prongs offered gently. You knew, deep down, he was right. But some notable gang disappearing hasn’t stopped you before, and it sure as hell wouldn’t stop you now.
“I’ll talk to Scar about it,” even just the mention of your advisor, and wife’s name gave your stomach butterflies. Scarlett Obsidine, your other, and better, half. After the disappearance of a certain dark haired man, Scar was the woman who comforted you, and though you missed him dearly, your heart managed to haphazardly piece itself back together and love all over again.
“Rave, listen—“
“Let’s go,” Prongs closed his mouth, the tone of your voice stating clearly that this matter wasn’t up for discussion. Especially not with him.
⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈
“You know he’s right,” you couldn’t help but sigh when your wife’s soft tones calmed your irritated mood. Soft hands gently kneaded at the tense muscles in your shoulders, forcing them to relax as a tired moan escaped your lips. Leaning back, you peer into her shining sapphire eyes, locks of brunette framing your face as she took the sides of your cheeks in her hands and leaned down, softly pecking your lips with her own. You couldn’t help humming a smile against her mouth, reaching up to deepen the kiss, but she pulled away before you could.
“Scaaaaar…” you pout, looking up at her mischievous smirk as she winked playfully.
“(Y/N)...” Scarlett sighed, swinging her legs over your body to sink into your lap, one thumb now caressing one of the most prominent features on your face. A nasty, jagged scar ran down from the the top of your forehead, over your right eye and finishing just past your jaw bone. One (E/C) iris lighter than the other as a result of the old wound. Soft lips chase away the shadows of your past as Scarlett replaced her thumb with her mouth.
“(Y/N), I don’t want to find you dead in some alleyway because you picked a fight you couldn’t win,” a finger poked your chest as she huffed above you, feigning irritation. You roll your eyes, (E/C) landing on your gear now strung across the table. That raven helmet almost calling to you as you shook your head. Disagreeing with your wife was never a good idea, but you were feeling particularly bold this evening.
“Look. So many jobs have opened up recently. We have so many opportunities to make this life more comfortable. More jobs means more money, more money means we can afford the gate toll and actually see the world above ground. And I can finally buy you an actual ring.”. Technically, you two weren’t married. Who the fuck would be stupid enough to perform marriage ceremonies in the underground City? But, it was easier than saying you were devoted to each other in every single way.
Lightly smacking your chest, Scarlett raised herself from your lap with a hefty sigh. “One of these days (Y/N), you’re going to be captured or killed,” she said quietly, unable to meet your eyes. “And then what the hell will I do…?” Scarlett had now completely turned away from you, shoulders hunched. Running a hand down your face, you pick your sore body up from the chair, reaching her in a matter of strides.
“I can’t give this up, Scar. You know that. You knew that when you chose to be with me. You knew The Nest was always going to be my priority,” you held out your arm, hand hovering over her back, not sure whether to comfort her or let her go. The admission almost had her in tears, you could tell by the way her shoulders shook ever so gently.
“You still miss him don’t you?” It was her vulnerable, defeated tone that alerted you to the slight change of topic.
You fell silent, not really knowing how to respond. Yes, of course you missed him. You loved him more than anything. But those days are over, you knew that. You’d cried enough those following nights after his disappearance.
He was probably dead anyway.
“Of course I do,” you wouldn’t lie to her. That wasn’t fair. But you knew the truth was just as painful for her.
“Will I ever be enough? Will I ever be enough to replace him?” the sound of her voice had your heart in pieces. You loved Scarlett. You really did. But your heart wouldn’t let you love her wholly. Part of yourself will always be dedicated to that grumpy kid you’d fallen for all those years ago.
“Scar… I—”
“I know,” she whispered, stepping forward away from your outstretched grasp. “I know,” you watched as the woman you loved, and who loved you, stepped from your shared quarters, hovering in the doorway. “I’m sorry I asked,” she closed the door as she left, leaving you a frustrated, conflicted mess.
⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈
“Understood, I’ll bring them in right away. Thank you Niles,” The Commander of the MPs stood opposite Erwin, arms folded. An expression of irritation plastered on his sunken features. Erwin simply sighed, realising Niles was wanting to stay for this seemingly impromptu meeting. With a nod of his head, a cadet rushed off to find the two soldiers mentioned in their little conversation. Being Commander of the Scouts often had its perks, like having cadets around to run errands for him.
Niles cleared his throat, taking a seat on the green leather sofa within Erwin’s office. “You sure he’d help us? I mean, it wasn’t too long ago he actually decided killing you was probably a bad idea.”—he raised a thin brow, peering at Erwin with barely concealed suspicion—“I’m pretty sure the Underground City would be the last place he’d want to return.” a knock at the door cut their conversation short, both turning their heads as Erwin called;
“Enter.”
Hange was the first to make her presence known, poking her head in as she opened the door. A smile adorned the slightly dishevelled section commander, her hair sticking up in all directions. Clearly she had been in the middle of something when Erwin requested her presence.
“You asked to see us, Erwin?” her eyes sparkling with curiosity behind her glasses as she stepped through the door.
“Tch, just make it quick, I have shit to do,” the monotone voice of Levi behind her made Erwin pinch the bridge of his nose. How many times has he told him not to talk to him like that?
“Yes, come in and make yourselves comfortable.” Hange immediately took up a seat next to Niles on the sofa, Levi preferring to stand against the now closed door, arms folded. Erwin’s sharp eyes shifted to Niles, an indication for the MP Commander to speak.
“Well, no point in beating around the bush. We’ve received an anonymous tip about some criminal gang that’s been plaguing my soldiers in the Underground City.” Levi visibly stiffened at the mention of his old home. His jaw tensed in anticipation. There would be only one reason he would be called into such a discussion, and the answer was a firm no.
Without his permission, his mind flashed back to a (H/C) girl, her face etched with that ever mischievous smirk. He quelled the thoughts as quickly as he could. He needed his wits with him, and allowing his mind to wander back to what he’d left behind wouldn’t help anything. Besides, the likelihood of you being alive was close to none.
“Section Commander, I don’t suppose you would have heard of the group but Captain Levi here surely would have done. The Nest.” Niles continued, now eyeing Levi to gage his reaction. And for a man whose emotions were usually on a tight leash, this seemed to be what cracked his impenetrable walls. His eyes flew wide open, frantically searching between Niles and Erwin. They couldn’t be serious. The Nest? That was where Farlan and Isobel used to—
Shit, he really needed to keep his thoughts at bay. But what he did know was that The Nest was an impenetrable fortress of criminal activity. Trying to mess with them was suicide.
“Judging by your reaction, I’m going to assume you are familiar with them, Levi,” Erwin’s surprisingly calm tone eased the growing tension in the room. Taking a subtle breath to calm himself, Levi’s eyes narrowed to his commander.
“Yeah. I know of it. Why?” it was a rhetorical question, he already knew why, but he wanted to hear it from Erwin himself. Hange looked incredibly confused, looking between the men in the office, trying to glean something, anything, about what the hell was going on.
“The Nest? Why are they so bad?” she asked, not afraid to show how completely oblivious she is to anything that doesn’t concern titans or science. Erwin gestured to Levi.
“Levi? Care to explain? You probably know more than myself and Niles combined,” though his voice seemed kind, there was a slight edge to his deep tones. One that didn’t go unnoticed by Levi.
A heavy silence filled the room as the Captain wracked his brain for all the information he could think of regarding the organisation. It seemed like hours before he finally spoke.
“Well, you got one thing right. The Nest is a criminal organisation. A nasty one at that. Merciless bastards. Whether you’re a soldier or a citizen, they don’t give a shit. They’ll leave you a broken, bloodied mess in the street. I don’t know much about their leader. Only that he took over from the previous one around ten-ish years ago. Since then, they’ve expanded their shitty little gang and taken over an entire section of the city,” he explained, poison lacing his tone. It wasn’t that he was above the whole gang thing, oh no. It was more the state Farlan would be in before he left to meet whoever the fuck led that group of demons. He’d never seen his friend so anxious. So afraid.
“You never met him? Their leader?” Erwin inquired, lacing his hands together on the desk in front of him. Levi scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“If I had, I would tell you. But I know he’s smart. And not the good kind of smart. The kind of smart where he would always be ten steps ahead of you. He has a small group of trusted criminals surrounding him at all times, called his Shadows. They’ll be the ones to look out for,” Despite his voice sounding bored, Levi’s heart was racing. They couldn’t seriously be thinking of facing The Nest, could they? But something in the expressions of both Niles and Erwin told him he was wrong. Dead wrong.
“They’ve been picking off my soldiers. Always in the same places as well. I was going to leave it, just tell them to avoid certain areas until this tip. Their next job. We know what it is,” Niles interjected, looking down to the floor, his own mind a whirlwind.
“And you want to intercept them. The same way you did with me, right?” Levi finished through gritted teeth. This was absurd. There was no way they could pick them all off. Unless… that wasn’t the goal. Levi’s grey eyes widened slightly, realising what they wanted to do. Yep, this was total suicide. Hange clapped her hands together almost excitedly, as if she was also able to read Erwin’s mind.
“You want to capture him! The leader! Ah! This all makes so much sense now, I was starting to wonder why I was here,” the scientist mused almost to herself, before jumping to her feet. “This is the perfect opportunity to test some of the concept traps I have in mind. Obviously for titans they’d need to be much, MUCH bigger. And of course a few modifications would have to be made so they could adapt to size and body type but oooooooh this is so exciting! I’ll start right away!'' Without allowing anybody to get a word in edgeways, Hange dashed back to her lab to begin her preparations.
“Thank you Erwin, the Military Police will remember this,” Niles said, before he too was rising from his seat. Throwing Levi an unsure glance, he made his way towards the door, only to be shoved into the hallway by Levi, who promptly closed the door behind him.
“Don’t.” he simply said, turning back to Erwin who was peering at him, his expression puzzled. Levi rolled his eyes again, clearly having to clarify what he meant. “Don’t pursue them. It’s suicide,” The Commander’s expression relaxed slightly in understanding.
“We don’t have a choice, Levi. Not only are hundreds of MPs being slaughtered down there, but relationships between the Scouts and the MPs are strenuous at best. It would be in our best interests to—“
“Bullshit.”
Erwin sighed again, having to hold his tongue. Snapping at Levi now for his language would only rile up the man more.
“Levi, we already have a plan in motion. There are soldiers down there now meeting whoever gave us that anonymous tip to further discuss the job The Nest has taken. It’ll be fine, but you’re going to have to trust me.” Erwin’s eyes bore into Levi’s own, the man once again asking his Captain to trust him in a risky call he’s made. Levi’s done it so many times before, why was it so difficult now?
It took yet another pregnant silence before Levi eventually yielded.
“Fine, but don’t be surprised when we’re once again forced to retreat with our tails between our legs.” it was a savage comment, but one that Erwin didn’t take to heart as he watched the raven haired man leave. Yes, this was a risk, but all his risks so far had worked out fairly well. There was no reason why this one would fail. No reason at all.
Levi leant against the door to Erwin’s office, looking down the hallway before letting loose a long breath. Not only would he have to go toe to toe with The Raven, but he also had to face so much of his past he’d wanted to forget. Fuck, this was a terrible idea. Why did Erwin always have to gamble? It was exhausting for everyone else involved.
Folding his arms, the shorter man strode back to his own office, lost in thought the entire way. Would he see you again? Were you even alive? Did you know just how much he had missed you. Just how much he’d wanted to see you again. To hold you again.
Did you know he’d looked for you? How his heart shattered over and over again each time he found no trace of you. He’d never accepted you were gone. Always holding onto that thorn of hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d survived.
Collapsing in his chair behind his desk, Levi unlocked the bottom draw and gently pulled it out. He delicately picked out a small, ebony bird feather you’d crafted into a quill pen. Even though neither of you knew how to write, you knew back then how much he had wanted to learn despite never voicing it directly. All those nights spent copying out basic letters from discarded newspapers and wanted posters. You always had this way of reading his mind.
The smallest fond smile crept across his usually bored face. God he missed you. It had been years and he still missed you like he only lost you yesterday.
#levi attack on titan#captain levi#snk levi#levi x reader#aot x reader#aot x y/n#aot x you#levi x you#levi x y/n#shingeki no kyojin#levi ackerman#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x you
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IOTA Reviews: Sole Crusher
Well... It's finally here... the episode introducing the new bee hero. And what do you know? It looks like I was right about how the new character would be portrayed.
It's kind of funny how I made predictions exaggerating what could happen, and they were surprisingly accurate. Isn't that funny?
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Let's just get into the seventh (chronologically the seventh and the seventh episode in the season to air after “Mr. Pigeon 72”) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Sole Crusher. Damn, I hate that a pun this clever was used for the title.
We get to the point pretty quickly with the first scene being Zoe arriving in Paris and getting a tour of the city. She asks to stop at the Dupain-Cheng bakery, where she meets Marinette through some brief Unfunny Marinette Slapstick. The two quickly strike up a conversation.
I mean, it's not like Zoe is the sister of the absolute worst human being in existence, right?
Marinette compliments Zoe's shoes, and she points out that she designed them herself, and wrote every good thing anyone has ever said to her on them. But because she only has one friend, there's only a standard “I <3 U” on the left shoe.
So Zoe leaves the bakery and heads to Le Grand Paris where she meets her mother, Audrey. Unlike how she talked with Marinette, Zoe pretends to be just as snobby as Audrey in order to fit in. She then meets up with Chloe, who criticizes her for having poor person things like a phone without any diamonds embedded in it. And then she sees Zoe's shoes.
Look, that meme was already dated when it was referenced in Black Panther three years ago. Please don't try to reference memes in 2021, Miraculous Ladybug.
Chloe offers some golden heels while saying that those kind of shoes are for winners to wear and crush the losers underneath. This is the only episode to mention this kind of ideology, and believe me, it gets worse when Chloe decides to teach Zoe how to be like her.
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Get used to this. This episode is all about demolishing any semblance of likability in Chloe's character. Now that Astruc doesn't have to bother with writing Chloe with decency since she's not Queen Bee, watch as he turns her into an absolute caricature of her former self.
Yes, Chloe has ordered her father to give her a lot of frivolous things in the past, but she has been shown to care about him, like immediately rushing to hug him after she was safe in “Origins” and showing concern for when he was akumatized into Malediktator while apologizing for causing it. For the love of God, one of the first things she did when she allied with Hawkmoth at the end of Season 3 was to have him unto her parents' akumatization. I guess she only cared about her rich parents for their status and not because she actually loved them right?
Next up on the list of Chloe's positive qualities to ruin is her friendship with Sabrina.
🎶It's seven o'clock in the morning🎶 🎶I can't believe they made this scene🎶 🎶With the writing Astruc's enforcing🎶 🎶It's like he's trying to piss off me🎶
Yep, Chloe doesn't view Sabrina in a twisted view of friendship anymore. Now she's a slave. I'm not exaggerating by the way, he actually said that in a tweet.
THIS IS WHAT THOMAS ASTRUC ACTUALLY BELIEVES
Okay, so I guess all those times we saw Chloe playing superheroes with Sabrina in “Antibug” and “Miraculer” were just a slave driver playing with their property. Actually apologizing to Sabrina for getting her akumatized in those episodes? Protecting her from the Scarlet Akumas in “Ladybug”? She was just interested in keeping her slave around. I think Astruc may have slept through the slavery unit in his history class. Yes, Sabrina was mostly used as a joke to show how controlling Chloe could be, but there were still semblances of an actual friendship between the two.
Chloe arrives at school and introduces Zoe as her half-sister, despite being the same age and having the same mother. Because I guess we can add basic biology to the list of things the writers don't understand. Now that we're at school, Chloe's friendship with Adrien is next up on the chopping block.
Yep, despite being Adrien's only friend and making a big deal about valuing his friendship to the point where she threw a big party just to make sure he wouldn't leave her and risked cooperating with an Akuma to save him, now Chloe just sees Adrien as a rich meal ticket. Two of the earliest episodes to show Chloe had a more compassionate side to her, and they just undid them. Even as much as I hated the episode, “Felix” showed Chloe was willing to cooperate with Marinette and her friends just to find a way to cheer Adrien up on the anniversary of his mother's not-death.
For the love of God, Astruc, 1984 was supposed to warn people about what could happen if they rewrote the past, not encourage people to rewrite the past. He probably finished Animal Farm thinking Snowball really did work alongside the humans, didn't he?
Marinette comes up and Zoe pretends to hate her, leading Marinette to wonder why she did that. She texts Zoe (she gave her number to her earlier) and invites her to a concert on the Liberty, but Chloe finds out. Zoe thinks fast and pretends it's just so she can torment her more. Chloe then takes out a book listing all the ways she can torture Marinette. I wonder if this is a metaphor for the writing process behind most of the episodes last season.
Zoe decides to go outside for some fresh air, and Andre comforts her. Funny how Andre bends over backwards to give Chloe whatever she wants, yet he's willing to actually talk to Zoe like an actual parent. Andre tries to cheer Zoe up, but she talks about her past where she had to put on an act so she would be liked, but (bet you've never heard this before) she just wants to be accepted for who she truly is. The surge of emotions is enough for Shadowmoth to akumatize her into Sole Crusher.
In addition to having one of the most clever puns for an Akuma name, I actually like Sole Crusher's design. Not only is it a good excuse to reuse Chloe's character design, it makes sense thematically, as Chloe was trying to mold Zoe into a copy of herself. The gold and diamonds also make sense given Chloe's love for shiny things. Her powers tie into the bizarre belief Chloe has about stepping on the winners. Whenever Sole Crusher kicks or steps on someone, she absorbs them and gets progressively bigger, making it easier to do so. While it's not cracking my top ten anytime soon, it's still an interesting character design.
Sole Crusher heads to the hotel to get Chloe, and she manages to get away pretty quickly. Maybe in an alternate universe, she's a track star? For some reason, she runs to the Dupain-Cheng bakery and then... Oh my God... pushes Marinette's parents so they get absorbed by Sole Crusher, before trying to do the same with Marinette.
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When has Chloe ever done something like that? Whenever she endangered someone during an Akuma attack, it was unintentional or a result of her naivety. She was only trapped in Pixelator's dimension because Adrien tried diving to save her, she only alerted Rogercop to Ladybug's presence because she eagerly called out for her, and during “Zombizou” she only tried to throw Sabrina towards the horde of kissing zombies once, and that was meant to highlight her growth. The only person to actually do stuff like this consistently is Lila, but I guess she got vaporized by Big Brother offscreen.
This episode is determined to make the audience hate Chloe by retconning everything about her character while portraying her as a complete monster. As bad as Chloe could get, she was never selfish enough to use anyone as a human shield. This kind of behavior honestly could be explained by saying Chloe was lashing out as a result of losing the Bee Miraculous permanently, but the events of the Season 3 finale aren't mentioned ONCE, not even in the next episode that introduces Queen Bee's replacement! How the hell can you set up the next Bee hero without explaining why the original needs to be replaced in the first place?! And trust me, I'm going to talk about Zoe replacing Chloe later.
Sole Crusher grabs Marinette in her hand, so the Horse Kwami, Kaalki, uses her power to teleport over to Adrien's house and inform him Ladybug needs help, meaning once again Adrien did nothing in this episode before becoming Cat Noir.
At the Liberty, Chloe offers more victims to Sole Crusher in the form of the band Kitty Section (consisting of Luka, Juleka, Rose, Ivan, and Mylene) and theatens the giant golden supervillain she can send her back to Paris, even though she's really not in a position to bargain right now. And she STILL continues to insult her. Do you hate Chloe yet? Come on, do you? The writers won't stop until you do.
After we see Sole Crusher's conflicted emotions, Marinette is set free by Cat Noir and transforms into Ladybug, immediately summoning her Lucky Charm, a shoehorn. They only learn Zoe's sneakers were where she were akumatized thanks to Chloe's ranting, so the episode unintentionally made Chloe save the day. Ladybug breaks into Le Grand Paris and breaks the sneakers where Zoe hid them, using the shoehorn to open a door. So Sole Crusher is de-evilized, Ladybug fixes the damage, and gives yet another charm to Zoe.
Afterwards, Zoe goes to the Liberty, apologizes for the act she put on, all while divulging to the audience her “tragic backstory”.
Of course, everyone welcomes her with open arms.
And right here is where the biggest problem I have with Zoe as a character. I normally hesitate to use this term given how often it gets thrown around when criticizing characters these days, but I really can't say anything else.
Zoe... is a Mary Sue.
For those who don't know, the term Mary Sue originated in a Star Trek fanfiction from 1973 satirizing several self-insert stories at the time. Most of these stories showed a beautiful young woman joining the crew of the Enterprise and immediately gaining the attention of the crew. Mary Sue parodied this character archetype by showing how much she was appreciated by Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock, the latter being driven to tears at her funeral despite his species being emotionless normally.
What does this have to do with Zoe? She has the exact same storyline as Mary Sue in the parody fanfiction. Her mere presence is enough to make Chloe act extremely out of character in an attempt to make her look better, and as soon as she apologizes while giving a frankly vague backstory, everyone just accepts her as their friend, and I mean everyone in the entire class. I'm sorry, but it just doesn't feel earned. Why was she bullied at her old school? What did her bullies have against her? What caused her to stop going along with her peers, and why did everyone turn against her? How the hell did the bullies who put cockroaches in another student's locker get no punishment while the victim was forced to transfer schools? It's an intentionally unclear backstory designed to make the audience feel sympathetic towards Zoe without actually doing anything else.
I want to ask anyone reading this who watched the episode a question: Outside of her backstory, what do we actually know about Zoe?
What is her personality like? She's nice? Socially awkward? We've never had a character like that in Miraculous Ladybug before! Sorry Marinette, Adrien, Juleka, Nathaniel, Mylene, and Marc, there's a new character with more personality than all of you combined!
What are her goals? She wants to be an actress? Great, but why? Even though there's no clear answer for why Marinette loves fashion, or why Alya loves journalism, or why Nino loves DJing, you can still see the passion in their lives when they do something related to their goals. Zoe only says she wants to be an actress, connecting it to her people pleaser backstory (and given how it ended, she must be a terrible actress), and in the next episode, she immediately gets the lead role in a student film.
When Mylene got the starring role in the movie in “Horrificator”, we at least got snippets of her acting skills in the same episode that established her desire to be an actress, which is also implied to be because she was inspired by her father in “The Mime”. She didn't just say she wanted to be an actress and got the leading role. She still had problems to overcome like her cowardice, which threw her own self-confidence into doubt. Here, Zoe just says she wants to be an actress, and is rewarded for no reason the very next episode.
Zoe basically exists only to be a foil to Chloe, and the writers had no idea what to do in terms of a personality, so they just dumped a bunch of extremely likable character traits onto her without thinking of how her character could come off. And like I said, she's a Mary Sue.
I'm not the only one who thinks this. I've seen a handful of posts on this very site calling Zoe a Mary Sue. In fact, I even asked another Tumblr user @anxresi to quote their take on Zoe being a Mary Sue, which I couldn't even top in terms of accuracy. They basically listed off five things that made Zoe a Mary Sue.
She has to have a ‘tragic backstory’ so all the other characters will fall in love with her. Usually within minutes, in the very first episode they’re introduced.
She has to have a supercute design so that the audience at home will fall in love with her. And if they don’t, they’re automatically dismissed as ‘haterz’ even if their objections are purely from a writing POV.
Her only flaw will be thinking too little of herself. “What, lil ol’ me as the Bee Miraculous holder? With my shyness, colorful shoes, chic beret and personalized pink strip in my hair? Gosh, who’d have thought it?”
The contrast to her half-sister will be a constant plot point, with Chloe always getting dumped on. “You see, kids? Bad things happen to bad people. But you see this super-sweet girl over here? She gets a free DAD. Instant FRIENDS. To star in her own MOVIE. The chance to be a SUPERHERO, even though she only arrived last week. Who cares if she has no depth, no personality and barely any reason for being in the show, apart from being a massive ‘Up Yours’ to all the Chloe fans out there?”
What about character development, Mr Generic Zag Guy? “Development? What’s that?! Zoe is already perfect as she is. The only ‘development’ she’ll receive is having her hair done in the first episode she’s introduced. Besides, That‘d’ word is banned here at Zag studios. Why do you think we abandoned Chloe’s stillborn arc so quickly? This is a KIDS show, why bother trying to create a complex character with more than one dimension?”
This is essentially who Zoe is. She's perfect, has no character flaws, has a cute design so the audience will love her already, and was designed only to replace Chloe as Queen Bee. That's all she is.
So the episode ends with Zoe feeling happy at all the new friends she made while we get one of the most blatant attempts of symbolism in the ending card I've ever seen.
See, look. While Marinette is happily talking with Zoe with the image of Ladybug next to them, Chloe is to the far left with an EVIL purple aura, showing how bad she is compared to how great Zoe is. Only a braindead moron would actually like Chloe over the super awesome and pretty Zoe!
I'll give my final thoughts on the episode in the next part where I analyze this plotline as a whole.
LINK TO “QUEEN BANANA” REVIEW
#immaturity of thomas astruc#iota#thomas astruc#thomas astruc salt#miraculous ladybug#miraculous ladybug salt#marinette dupain cheng#ladybug#adrien agreste#cat noir#chat noir#chloe bourgeois#queen bee#queen b#zoe lee#vesperia#sabrina raincomprix#andre bourgeois
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Headcanons for Laszlo plz,
Doctor!Reader was going a Institute to see Laszlo, prepare tea. Talks about how Laszlo adore these children’s in Institute. But then you felt your heartbeat that Laszlo was the sweetest and he was trying to kiss you on his office. We chuckles and hopefully get to know each other more
A Study on Feelings [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Doctor!Reader]
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: mention of murder and abused children
Author’s note: I hope I made a good job for your request 💕 thank you for allowing me to write it.
The case they refer to is made up and not related to the series.
You stepped out of the carriage thanking the driver, he bowed his head to you touching the tip of his hat respectfully.
The day was slowly dying, the sun was disappearing among the grey clouds of New York sky, the city trembling of life was going toward a well earned rest, but the joyful sounds coming from beyond the gates of the Kreizler’s institute were the real blessing of the day.
“Doctor Y/L/N” the familiar voice of Doctor Kreizler welcomed you as he walked outside the heavy gates “I am glad you made it to visit us” he said referring to himself and the whole Institute altogether.
You couldn’t help but smile back admitting how it was unmissable for you to do such a visit.
Words aside he caught your attention as he was without his jacket, a more easy look that, in such a time where people took hours to dress and undress, it was a proper sight.
As you got inside the sound became more clear, the children rushing one after the other while getting in their beds, the smiling faces, the happy chats.
It felt such a blessing to be able to witness such a pure joy.
“Please, pardon my attire, the kids and I were playing, right?” He asked to a child that nodded he looked down shyly, not able to cross eyes with you but clearly trusting the doctor. Laszlo noticed that reaction, but he opened his left arm in front of you to invite you to go further.
Tenderness and attention gravitated around this place, it was a calming space, but also rooted into the process of healing the kids were going through.
Something hard to explain, something that could only be felt in a place like the Kreizler Institute.
You followed Laszlo inside as he gallantly showed you the way around, room after room, hall after hall to his office.
“This place is magnificent” you murmured to him
“It is, indeed, but not just architectonically, the kids make it special” he assured as he thanked the lady at service for bringing hot water to him.
“You like brewing your own tea?” You asked him once alone.
“What does that say about me?” He joked and you shrugged lightly observing him in such a mundane situation, in his little ritual.
“That you’re very fond of control, you probably spend a lot of sleepless nights here, and you take pride of your tea selection”
He chuckled at your words replying quickly
“Sounds like somebody that I know, do you have a favourite tea?”
“I will try your favourite, if you allow me” you said pacing around the study during the whole conversation, your eyes going quietly from the chalkboard to the books open on the big table, the intense scente of wood covering the room joined with the gentle notes of the vanilla coming from the books.
The place felt relaxing and professional, serious but cozy.
“I admire your work, Doctor Kreizler” you confessed honestly as he let the tea brewing “now, I believe you called me for a very specific matter” you added as he pulled out those papers and books you were meant to see together.
You stared at him as he explained the case, word after word, his hand moving along every detail, apologising for every gruesome one, showing proofs, the ideas he had, the intuitions and troubles.
“May you go back to that last victim?” You asked as you proceeded to collect the tea and to pour it yourself as he was now more challenged to go through the topics, you saw something he didn’t and that intrigued him. He wasn’t completely blind to your presence there and, probably, he also tried this hard to impress you. He felt a bit silly, showing off like a peacock all his feathers about solving murder cases.
You smiled as the time flew by, your teas followed one after the other marking the edges of the pages and turning cold as you spoke and shared ideas. At some point you took off your jacket to be more comfortable while writing on the board adding those possible explanations to the motifs of the new killer he was investigating on.
“Doctor! Doctor!” A tiny voice called and you both turned around as a little girl rushed in, blonde hair blowing in the air already wearing her night dress as she handed the big black jacket of the doctor back to him “You forgot it”.
“Oh, thank you so much Margaret, you have been most precious, now go to bed or Mrs Morenko will get worried” he smiled at her lovingly and she nodded valiantly before rushing away.
You kept quiet as you observed her and smiled how she skipped around happily.
“She is the girl you told me about?” You asked him and he nodded closing the door after her and moving back to the table, standing beside it as he gently tapped on the wood with his fingers.
“You can’t prevent polarisation, it is harder with kids” you assured him moving by his side to interject his stare still settled on the wood under him.
“I should have seen it coming, she is getting into a place I never meant her to be. I wanted her to be freed by the need to please her family and now she substituted it with the need to please me”
“You substituted her parents in her mind, an evil man and an evil woman, you’re the sweetest of the mothers and the most protective of the fathers. You can’t blame yourself on this.”
He listened to you and you could almost see the little gears in his brain elaborate your words, his right hand abandoned on his side, hair slightly falling on his temple as he pressed his lips tightly together.
“I did her wrong being so soft on her”
He concluded closing his eyes for a moment before looking up at you realising how close you actually are.
“Do you expect me to punish you now?”
You asked back at him and that surely took him by surprise as he tried to babble what he meant and he wasn’t self pitying himself and how you probably didn’t want to listen to his children’s problems too, you were already helping too much.
“Doctor Kreizler” you interrupted that river of words “as professionals we need to understand how to treat our patients in the best way to bring them further in life and not backward. You know just as I do how if you utilised a strong and threatening attitude you would have just taught her that the way to deal with life is to submit to the more aggressive ones, which is way worse than a young ten year old having a crush on the man that taught her she can be strong, isn’t it?”
He looked at you and smiled moving his head on side with a small tilt letting your words sink in and probably glad you defined him in such a way.
“I just love these kids” he breathed out as his eyes drifted somewhere in the space “they are picked up so soon in life and set for failures and successes they never meant to have, somebody else reading through them seeing fault in desire and poverty in tenderness”
You felt you chest tighten as he spoke, his eyes now shining, his voice narrating slowly those lives and achievements. His passion and hard work showing as he guided some papers closer to play out that moment the embarrassment of having opened up to you like that.
“The truth is, Doctor Y/L/N, that we can do so little, and the best thing we can do is to teach them not to accept little from life”
You smiled at him softly “You’re right”.
He smiled back as his dark gaze dropped down on your lips and he leaned in carefully, his eyes up at you again searching for consent, you imperceptibly wet your lips as you realised he was closing the space between the two of you.
Then a familiar voice coming from outside the window calling his name.
He paused midway and you could see a soft pink take over on his cheeks and behind his ears, he murmured something moving away from you as he opened up the window letting in the cold breeze.
“Laszlo! There’s another victim! Come down! Now! She is still alive you have to speak to her!” John shouted from his carriage “Move your ass!” He added shouting again as Dr Kreizler clearly was upset by the interruption and rolled his eyes to that vulgar talk.
You chuckled slowly picking his jacket and moving behind him. He noticed you and gulped down letting you help him with it.
“I apologise, I have to go, but Dr Y/L/N, I pledge for your forgiveness”
You nodded slowly as you were thinking about it as you picked up your own jacket.
“That could be earned by giving me the permission to call you Laszlo myself”
He smiled with a light nod just admiring the way you didn’t let any embarrassment run through the two of you.
“I couldn’t in any way refuse a requests coming from you, Y/N”
You nodded to him placing your hat back on your head with a smirk
“Good, now don’t stand there, we have to go” you said as he froze halfway through the door.
“Pardon?”
“You don’t expect to introduce me to this case and make me forget about it, or about you” you said and he let out a breathy chuckle holding the door for you open before following you outside.
This was the beginning of something new.
Tags: @cazzyimagines @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing
#dr kreizler x reader#dr laszlo kreizler#dr laszlo kreizler x you#dr laszlo kreizler x reader#laszlo kreizler fanfic#laszlo kreizler fanfiction#laszlo kreizler x y/n#laszlo kreizler x you#laszlo kreizler x reader#the alienist x reader#the alienist fanfic#laszlo kreizler
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Prompt- Nyx tickles Rhys in front of all the hewn city members. (Rhys is very ticklish)
A Visit to Hewn City
Fluff//1565 words
“You are not taking our child to Hewn City. Absolutely not.” Feyre’s arms were crossed and she had an obstinate look in her eyes.
Rhys just smirked. “Fine. You can take him with you to your art classes.”
Feyre winced, likely remembering the last time that had happened. Nyx had gotten into a bucket of paint, smeared his hands all over the wall in a desperate attempt to get it off, then started crying. “I’ll stay home today.”
“I thought you were short-staffed.” Rhys knew exactly how this conversation would end from the sigh that escaped his mate’s lips.
“Can’t you go to Hewn City another day?” Feyre asked in a last-ditch attempt to keep her son away from there.
Rhys raised an eyebrow. “We’ve both already rescheduled the last few dates we were meant to go. Keir was annoyed enough as it is to hear that only one of us could come today.”
“We could get a babysitter—”
“Mor is off being our emissary. Cassian and Nesta are in the mountains. Azriel’s on a mission. All of our other friends are busy in some way. Do you trust our son with a stranger?”
Feyre squeezed her eyes shut. “I know you won’t let anything happen to him, I just don’t want Nyx in that environment.”
Rhys gaze softened. “I know, darling. I understand. If you really don’t want me to—”
“No,” Feyre cut him off. “I trust you.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and tried for a smile. “Just think of the look on Keir’s face when you show up with a baby. He only found out about Nyx during out last visit, yes?”
Rhys’ lips twitched. “Indeed. I imagine he’ll be rather surprised. And hopefully annoyed too. My dear uncle deserves a bit on trouble every now and then, don’t you think?”
Feyre grinned. “Absolutely. I need to go now.”
Rhys gave Feyre a peck on the cheek. “Have fun.”
Feyre returned the sentiment and winnowed away.
Rhys gathered Nyx in his arms, ready to head off to his meeting. And really, he was the most powerful high lord Prythian had ever seen. Only Feyre’s power rivaled his own. How hard would it be to keep a baby under control for a few hours?
—
As predicted, the look on Keir’s face was absolutely priceless. Rhys winnowed nearby, then strutted into the throne room with a baby in his arms. Of course a few residents of Hewn City dropped their goblets at the sight.
Keir, though… he looked absolutely enraged. The first glimpse of his distantly related grand-nephew did not seem to meet his standards.
Rhys just grinned at him and kept walking. Passing occupants of the Court of Nightmares, who were all scrambling to bow, seemed to please Nyx. He was reaching out of Rhys’ arms at everyone they walked by, excited to meet new people.
Rhys made it to the two thrones and took a seat in his own. Nyx settled on his lap, cooing.
“You brought the newborn,” Keir commented. His voice was strained.
Rhys just smiled. “I hope you don’t mind. Your High Lady is busy today. Subjects, may I present my son, Nyx.”
The whole room seemed to collectively take a breath, processing the situation. They clearly hadn’t been expecting a baby to appear in their domain.
Ignoring the silence, Rhys turned to Keir once more. “Any important updates?”
Keir was still frowning at Nyx. “Everything has been as it usually is. We only need to discuss how to calm down some residents who have gotten a bit worked up about some issue or other.”
Rhys, accustomed to the vague references to his people, wasn’t bothered by the lack of willingness to share. He was, however, bothered by the way Keir scowled at Nyx throughout this little speech. Even now, his eyes were on the baby who was currently pulling at Rhys’ hand.
“Do you have an issue with the presence of my child, Keir?” Rhys’ voice was icy.
Keir’s eyes snapped to Rhys. “He has wings.”
Trying to keep from throttling the male in front of his son, Rhys kept his tone even. He noticed the whole room tense at his words. “Does that matter?”
Keir frowned. “Being commanded by an Illyrian and his bastard Illyrian friends was bad enough. Now the child?”
Rhys wanted to use his power on the man. He’d done it before. Feyre had as well. But with Nyx there… absolutely not.
Instead, Rhys smiled. “I’m glad you’re pleased with him. Now go fetch some wine for me.”
Keir tensed, debating whether to argue, as he’d done many previous times. But something hard in Rhys’ eyes had the male scampering away.
Nyx seemed totally oblivious to the encounter. He gave his small wings a flap and scooted on Rhys’ lap. A string of babbled baby language left his mouth.
Rhys smiled fondly at the boy. “Hello, son.”
The entirety of Hewn City was watching their high lord coo at his baby, but Rhys paid them no mind. He wasn’t going to be cold and ruthless in front of Nyx.
Keir reappeared with the wine and Rhys took the goblet, not bothering to thank him. Then he dismissed Keir with a wave of the hand and went back to playing with his son.
—
Rhys wasn’t meant to be at Hewn City for long. After a couple of hours, Rhys had the small issue Keir had mentioned sorted out. He’d also entertained the court for as long as his lordly duties required.
Ready to leave, Rhys tried to scoop up Nyx, who had crawled over on Feyre’s empty throne. The baby managed to get Rhys back on his own seat and clung to his tunic, babbling.
“Now, Nyx, it’s time to leave,” Rhys said in a gentle voice, much of the court still watching curiously. They certainly had a very long attention span.
Nyx remained uncooperative. He tried to climb up Rhys’ shirt. In the process, his little baby fingers dug into Rhys’ side.
Rhys let out a startled laugh.
Pleased with the reaction, Nyx repeated the movement.
Prepared and trying to hold it in, Rhys lasted a few seconds before laughing once more. The entire court was staring at them now, entirely unsure of how to react to seeing their high lord being tickled. Keir was glaring with disapproval from the sidelines.
Nyx didn’t let up, surprisingly strong for a baby. Rhys had a bit of a laughing fit while trying—and failing—to corral his son.
Not sure if he’d be able to pick up the rascal and make it out the door, Rhys just smiled at the Court of Nightmares and said, “Your High Lady and I will visit next month. Be on your best behavior.” Then he winnowed away, hoping he didn’t sound as embarrassed as he was feeling.
Gods, Rhys’ face felt warm. He was blushing. Maybe they’d blame it on the wine.
Having appeared in his home, Rhys straightened and stepped toward the bedroom door, hoping to make inside before Feyre caught him. Nyx, still unused to winnowing, clapped his hands excitedly at the change in scenery.
“What did you do?”
Rhys slowly turned. “Do?”
Feyre had her arms crossed. She didn’t look particularly angry; she only seemed curious as to why her unflappable mate was blushing and trying to sneak into their bedroom.
“Did he get into trouble?”
“He was on his best behavior, actually. You shouldn’t be so doubtful toward him, darling. It hurts his feelings.”
Feeling entirely unhurt, Nyx hiccuped and reached for his mother. Feyre lifted him out of Rhys’ arms, rolling his eyes at the pathetic attempt at a deflection.
“What did you do then?”
Rhys winced. “Why do you think anything happened at all?”
Feyre impatiently knocked at her mate’s mental shields, not trusting a word that came out of his mouth. Reluctantly, Rhys lowered them, allowing Feyre full access to his mind.
After witnessing the day’s events, Feyre burst out laughing. “Oh, gods.”
Rhys pouted. “Stop that.”
“Being tickled by a baby in the middle of the Court of Nightmares. How will you ever look them in the eye again?” Feyre managed between laughs.
Rhys sighed. “I won’t. You’re on permanent Hewn City duty.”
Feyre smiled. “Right. Gods, I need to go tell Mor.”
Rhys’ eyes widened. “You need to do no such thing!”
“And Cassian. He’ll never let you live it down.” Feyre was fighting a smile.
Rhys crossed his arms. “Think of the child. What would poor Nyx think of his mother bullying his father so terribly?”
Feyre grinned. “He seems rather pleased with himself, actually.” Indeed, Nyx was stretching his lips, smiling toothlessly, tugging on Feyre’s sleeve.
Rhys sighed. “Oh, well. I think I’ve about given up on dignity at this point.”
Feyre smiled fondly at her husband. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Rhys guided his wife to the bedroom so that she could set down Nyx and let him play.
Upon asking how her day was, Rhys discovered she’d had a great time with her students, teaching some newbies how to mix the colors.
Despite the lingering embarrassment, Rhys was no longer upset about what had occurred in Hewn City. After all, a little bit of sheepishness was definitely worth seeing the look on Keir’s face. Maybe he’d bring Nyx with them again next time.
———
Tag List:
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@aelin-bitch-queen
@story-scribbler
@live-the-fangirl-life
@midsizewitch
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Dixons Next Door - Chapter 4
Introduction: Anna was a small town girl from Atlanta when she became the guardian of her two younger siblings. She was determined to keep them from the same abuse that she endured from her family, so she moved into a small beaten up house just outside the city in 2009. The new neighbors next door - the Dixon brothers - were definitely trouble. She wanted to escape her past, not repeat her parents history with these redneck brothers. Matters only escalate when the news is talking about the possibility of some virus getting out and infecting people… Are Merle and Daryl just as bad as her past? How is she going to keep her brother and sister safe from this virus getting out? What did Anna get herself into?
Setting: Pre-apocalypse
Word Count: 6896
Series Warnings: Offensive language, mentions/suggestion of physical abuse, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, sexual themes, violence & death
Chapter Warnings: Alcohol consumption, drug use, offensive language, assault, violence, sensitive themes - potential trigger warning
A/N: I got a little carried away and made this an extra long chapter, but it’s a good one! There are some sensitive topics in it so this is a trigger warning - it’s nothing too bad but some people may not want to read it. 18+ You’ve been warned.
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I had been cleaning out the pool for the kids while they ate lunch the next time that I was interrupted by Merle. He came over with a beer and hand and stood nearby me, watching silently. I gave him a look but he made no comment, he just sipped on his beer. I sighed and continued skimming the bugs and leaves out of the pool. “Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?” I ask without looking back at him. He chuckles.
“Why ya cleanin it? Just gonna get dirty again?” He asks, ignoring your question. You roll your eyes and smack the skimmer on the ground to get the debris off of it.
“Why shower - just gonna get dirty again.” I remark sarcastically.
“Exactly.” Merle agrees, and I look up in momentary shock before catching the sarcastic smirk on his face. “Ew,” I mutter, tossing the skimmer to the side and throwing the chlorine in the pool.
“So what bar ya work at?” He asks, glancing into the pool for a moment before looking back at you. You want to lie, but there’s literally only two bars in this small town, so it’s not like it matters much.
“Happy Hour Tavern.” I respond, wiping my hands off on my shorts and crossing my arms. “Surprised I haven’t seen ya there yet.” Referring to the beer in his hand at two in the afternoon.
He smirks. “Ya wanna see me there?” He suggests, and I roll my eyes.
“Didn’t say that.”
“Don’t ya worry, sugar. I’ll stop by.” He assures me, and I know he probably will.
“Great,” I mutter, and he chuckles.
“Where ya kids at?” He asks.
“Inside eating.”
“Wanna make me somethin to eat, sugarlips?” He asks flirtatiously. I roll my eyes again and huff.
“My name is Anna, and no, I don’t really have the money to be feeding the neighborhood.” I respond.
“Ain’t the neighborhood, doll. Just a friend.” He winks.
“Oh, so we’re friends?” I ask, shifting my weight.
“Yeah sure. Ya seem to be cozying up to my brother and all, ‘course we’re friends.” He responds sarcastically. The grin is gone from his face and he seems more serious now.
“What?” I ask, baffled by what he means by ‘cozying up to his brother.’
“Don’t play dumb, sweetheart. I saw ya the other day. Got him doing shit for ya, too. Impressive.” He rolls his eyes and takes a large gulp of his beer. Suddenly, the mood shifts, and I feel uncomfortable. Is he angry at me for asking Daryl for help? He is so hard to read, everything was just fine - what happened?
“I needed help lifting a heavy ass box. He was there. Doesn’t mean I’m ‘cozying up to anyone.’” I respond sternly. I don’t like being accused of using people. Merle chuckles.
“Relax, darlin, I ain’t jealous.” He taunts, lifting a hand to shield his eyes and looking up at the sky. “Issa good huntin day, bet he’s goin out there soon. I’ll see ya around, sugarlips.” Merle says as he begins walking away from me, leaving me confused and startled. What the hell just happened?
I began getting texts from my father that same day. I wasn’t entirely surprised, but I knew he wouldn’t go to the cops.
1:04 - Bring back my fuckin kids
1:15 - U ungrateful bitch after all i done 4 u
2:06 - Ima have every1 lookin 4 u
2:10 - U best not let me find u
3:34 - Ima tell the pigs u kidnapped em
4:08 - Just wait til i find u
My brother even texted me a few times, too.
12:30 - Pa’s lookin 4 u. He’s mad
1:10 - U took them? Ur not they momma, u kidnapped em
2:30 - U best bring em back or u’ll regret it Anna
The texts continued on and off throughout the day but I ignored them. My prejudice, abusive family would not get the best of me. He was probably drunk and went to find us to pick a fight and finally noticed we were gone. I couldn’t help but worry about if he ever did manage to find us. We were only a half hour away, it wouldn’t be too hard. It was only a matter of how much he was determined to do so. He’s not a smart man, I doubt he could track us down very easily. Plus, everyone who knew him, hated him. No one who knew us would help him - they would know the kids were safer with me. I’d rather be poor than abused.
Eventually I left my phone on silent and tried to keep my thoughts occupied. I didn’t tell the kids, of course. The kids had been playing in their room for most of the day, having fun with the large box that my bed frame had come in, using it as some sort of rocket or something. So I let them be inside and sat on the front steps to think in peace. I looked up at the sky and willed myself not to cry. They did not deserve my tears. They didn’t even deserve a moment’s thought. I forced myself not to think about all that they had put me through in my childhood. The nights I spent crying myself to sleep on my mattress on the floor. The bruises and scars I hid at school. The lies I told to keep myself from being taken away - only so I could protect my siblings.
My eyes burned as I fought back the tears and I hid my face in my hands on my lap.
“C’mon, Anna. It’s over now.” I mutter to myself, trying to believe my own words. Anger boiled over inside of me at the thought of what my father might do if he found us and took the kids back. I would not let him. Even if it killed me - he would not ruin their lives like he did mine.
A crash of thunder made me jump, bringing me back to the present. I looked up just in time to see Merle approaching from the woods, resheathing a knife on his hip. I figured he was hunting, and that gave me an idea.
“Hey, Merle!” I call out, quickly wiping my face and jumping up to head over to him. He looks pleasantly surprised and stopped in his tracks, smirking as I approached him. “I have a question.”
“Whatcha want, sugar?” He drawls, wiping his hand on a rag from his pocket. I notice a bit of blood and then the bag over his shoulder, making me wince. I didn’t wanna know.
“I wanna get a gun. But I don’t know the first thing about them, and I kinda hoped you did?” I inform him, glancing behind me to make sure the kids hadn’t come out. He chuckles quietly and looks me up and down.
“Whatcha want with a gun?” He asks. I resist getting defensive, sure that he thinks a woman can’t handle one.
“To protect myself. Family problems, let’s leave it at that.” I inform him with a look. “Do you think you could help me?” I plead. I didn’t wanna go into town and get scammed into buying a crappy, overpriced gun. Merle looks at me for a long moment, looking up at the darkening sky before shrugging.
“Come with me.” He responds, nodding toward his house. I look at it then back to him, giving him a sharp look. “I’m serious, ya want me help or not?” He demands. I look back toward my house for a moment before sighing.
“I can’t be long.” I tell him, and he smirks, heading toward his porch. I hesitantly follow behind him, dreading entering his place. Considering the trash and overgrown grass outside, I had a feeling the inside was much worse. I stepped inside the house cautiously, keeping my eye on Merle as I did so. He seemed to be the only one here, which relieved me. If any of those men from the other night were, I would have left. Merle tosses the bag from his shoulder onto an old wooden table and heads down the hall toward a bedroom, leaving me alone. The floor is dirty, there’s an old, stained armed chair in front of a box TV, and there’s stuff scattered everywhere. The place smells a little weird too, but I resist complaining. Merle returns a moment later with a case in hand. “Here,” Merle opens the case and reveals a gun, holding it out to me. It’s a handgun, I know that much. I look up at him and he gives me an impatient look, so I hesitantly grab the gun. It’s heavier than it looks, and I make sure to keep my finger off the trigger. “Ya ever shot one?” He asks, smirking at me.
“Once or twice.” I mumble, having flashbacks to the one time my father tried teaching me how to shoot bottles in the backyard. It wasn’t a fond memory at all…
“Ya can have it, but it’ll cost ya.” He winks.
“How much?” I ask, and he chuckles.
“Ion want ya money,” He drawls, and I immediately frown, thinking I know what he is implying.
“I’m not doing that either,” I scowl, going to hand the gun back to him. He doesn’t take it, chuckling some more.
“Whatcha want a gun for anyway?” He asks. I didn’t want to get into it, but maybe this would be a way around having to do something for him for it. I let out a sigh and looked at the weapon in my hand for a long moment.
“My father,” I start, not meeting his eye. “He’s uh, well he’s a piece of shit basically. I took the kids from him in the middle of the night and got this place, never told anyone where we were going. If he comes around… Well, I’m gonna need this.” I finally look up and meet his eye, exhaling deeply. He looks at me for a long moment, his face expressionless. It’s quiet and I am surprised he doesn’t make any rude or sarcastic comments. He shrugs, placing the case down on the old table.
“Keep it.” He tells me, and I raise my brows at him.
“Really?” I clarify, confused why he changed his mind.
“Ya need it more than I do. Got plenty round here.” He mutters, waving his arm up in no general direction. “I know all about piece of shit fathers.” He continues, giving me a solemn look. “My pops was. You was right, yer gonna need that. So take it, before I change my mind.” He drawls, heading over to their fridge and grabbing a bottle of beer, kicking it shut behind him. I don’t argue, despite being shocked and confused.
“Thank you, Merle.” I give him a sincere smile for the first time, and turn the gun over in my hands to ensure the safety is on.
“Takes 9MM. It’s loaded.” He informs me, plopping into the beaten up chair by the TV and opening his beer, taking a large gulp. I nod slowly and shift my weight, feeling awkward holding the gun but trying not to let him know.
“Okay,” I respond, turning to head out the door as he turns the TV on. “Thanks again.” I holler before I head out the door into the humid air. The sky has gotten very dark with storm clouds and the wind picked up, so I jog across the lawn back to my house and tuck the gun into the back of my shorts, hiding it under my shirt before I walk inside. I don’t need the kids seeing this.
“Anna! Look what we did!” Colton calls out from the hallway with a big grin on his face. I smile back at him and walk down the hall to their room, letting out a dramatic gasp when I see the box colored on with a bunch of random colors. “It’s our rocket!” He exclaims excitedly, rejoining his sister inside the big box.
“Wow! It looks so good guys!” I exclaim, grinning as they go back to their playing. I watch them for a moment before remembering the gun and walking into my own room, placing the gun on the top shelf in the closet. This will have to do until I have more furniture and somewhere safe to keep it.
The texts kept coming throughout the rest of the night.
6:05 - ware tf r my kids
6:43 - dont make me hunt u down girl
7:16 - uv always been a cunt this is just like u
8:11 - wat r u gonna do when u get nocked up by some prick u dont have money 4 all dem kids
The string of insults and threats lasted most of the night, the only reason I kept looking at them was to make sure that they hadn’t found us somehow, or had any ideas. I would need a head start if they did. I’m not sure if I would be able to shoot my brother, but I know I could shoot my dad. He deserved it. After all he did to me, all he put us through. Even my dead beat mother didn’t deserve him. He was half the reason she’s as bad as she is. Apparently, my mother hadn’t started using drugs until after I was born. My father had escalated when he had his first daughter, and his true colors began to shine through. My mom used in order to live with herself, the guilt, his abuse. She even made sure to get clean each time she learned she was pregnant, but she always relapsed. She was a strong woman - I had to give her that. If nothing else, she was strong. But still a horrible mother. She should have taken us with her when she left.
But now it was my responsibility. I had to do what she couldn’t. I couldn’t help but think about my parents, my horrible family - as I stood in the doorway, watching them sleep. I may not be able to change what happened to me, but I would do anything it took to prevent it from happening to Bailey and Colton. If it comes down to it, I will kill my own father to ensure he never lays another hand on them.
Watching them sleep peacefully, side by side in their own brand new bed with clean sheets and a safe roof over their head - that made it all worth it.
Jessie and Beau came over at nine with beers and I set up a fire in the front yard. I had found this old firepit someone was throwing away on the side of the road the other night and I took it of course. I was excited for some relaxing adult time before my shift tonight. I hated my job, but I made good money there so far.
“What time you work tonight?” Jessie asks as she pops open a bottle of beer and hands it to me with a grin on her face.
“Eleven to three. At least it’ll go by fast.” I respond, taking a gulp. The alcohol burns as it goes down my throat and I let out a sigh, leaning back into the stairs. I hadn’t gotten around to getting chairs for the yard yet - an unnecessary expense I couldn’t afford just yet. Jessie sat beside me, a lemonade in hand instead of beer, given that she was pregnant, and Beau sat on the hood of his truck, rolling a joint. I always enjoyed nights like this - quiet, relaxing, worry free. Jessie had been the best friend I’d ever had, I’m glad we’re still so close.
“That man ever come back?” She asks, referring to a customer from a few nights ago. He had gotten too drunk and handsy, trying to get me to give him my number. He even waited until the bar closed for me and the manager had to call the cops to get him to leave so I could go home. That was the latest reason I hated my job that I’d only had for a few weeks.
“No. Hopefully he never comes back, I don’t wanna have to use what Merle gave me earlier on him.” I mutter, glancing behind me to make sure the kids hadn’t woken up.
“The neighbor?” Beau asks. I nod.
“What did he give you? Are yous like, talking now?” Jessie asks, leaning on her knees and giving me a worried look.
“No, it’s nothing like that. I wanted to look into getting… a gun, for protection. From Dad.” I explain in a quieter tone. “I figured someone like him would know a place, and he actually ended up giving me a handgun.” I continue, watching Jessie’s disapproving look and wide eyes. “I’ll be safe. I really need it. If Dad finds out where we are…” I trail off, taking a large sip of my beer and letting a huff out.
“Why’d he just give you a gun for free?” Beau asks, looking up from where he was rolling the joint on the hood.
“I dunno. At first he said it was gonna cost me, but then when I mentioned it was because of Dad, he let me just have it. Said he knew all about asshole fathers.” I shrugged. “Either way, works for me.”
“Just don’t let him use that against you. Who knows what he might try to pull, he reminds me of Mack.” Jessie rolls her eyes when she mentions my older brother, grimacing. She hates me as much as I do. He had tried to get with her a million times and it made him resentful, yelling and cursing at her. Which then resulted in Beau beating the shit out of him - which was a sight for sore eyes.
“Yeah, he’s a bit better than him though. From what I’ve seen, at least.” I shrug, taking another swig of my beer. “Dad’s been texting me most of the day, he texted me earlier too. The bullshit you’d expect - pretending to care I took the kids, threatening me.” I explain, handing my phone to Jessie to see the string of unanswered texts.
“I hate them,” She grumbles as she scrolls through the texts. “They won’t find you, don’t worry. They’re too stupid to figure it out.” I chuckle at her comment.
“Yeah, you’re right about that.” I giggle. Beau stands up and offers me the blunt, which I accept and take a long hit from. As I am doing so, I hear a man start laughing and sure enough, Merle and Daryl are standing at the bottom of their porch. I exhale the large puff of smoke and hand the blunt back to Beau, leaning on my knees and resisting the urge to cough.
“Damn girl, who knew ya could have a little fun!” Merle exclaims, walking across the lawn toward us. Daryl and I make eye contact for a short moment before he rolls his eyes and leans against the beat up railing, placing his crossbow on the porch stairs, seemingly waiting for his brother. I roll my eyes with a smirk at Merle’s comment. Ever since earlier, I’ve decided to cut him a little slack. If I was interpreting right, we had more in common than I thought - at least, regarding families.
“Yeah, sometimes.” I respond, offering my beer bottle to him, earning a surprised look from Jessie. I was trying to be nice to Merle to repay him for the gun, so he wouldn’t come collecting in another way. It was the least I could do for a free handgun and clip. Merle looks shocked for a short moment but smirks and takes the bottle from my hand, taking a large swig.
“Yous her family?” Merle asks, looking at Jessie. She hesitates for a moment before shaking her head.
“Friends.” She responds, readjusting her feet uncomfortably. I stand up and suddenly I’m aware of just how close Merle was to me. I am almost touching him as he leans against my railing, my bottle in his large hands, a smirk plastered across his face. He looks fairly attractive in the fire light and his seemingly clean-ish clothes. He’s wearing black cargo pants and a white T-shirt under a jacket, and I take notice of the knife holstered on his hip. “Going hunting?” I ask, taking a step away from him toward the fire and tossing another log in.
“Mhm,” He responds, taking another sip of my beer. “Wanna come with, sweetheart? Can show ya the ways.” He suggests flirtatiously.
“I actually know how to,” I smirk, stepping closer to him and grabbing the beer from his hand, taking a large sip while looking into his eyes. The alcohol and hit were starting to get to me - I was a bit of a lightweight nowadays, since I’ve lost weight and had less time to do this kind of stuff. Merle bites his bottom lip and holds the intense eye contact with me, taking the beer back when I hand it to him and I can feel his eyes on me as I retake my seat beside Jessie.
“Yer loss.” He shrugs, pretending to be indifferent.
“C’mon man!” Daryl shouts from their side of the lawn impatiently. I wish that he would come join us too - I wanna get to know him better.
“Ugh I’m comin! Get yer panties outta a bunch!” He shouts over his shoulder. Merle hands the beer back to me after one last gulp and heads off to rejoin Daryl, walking away into the dark woods.
“What was that all about?” Jessie demands when they are out of earsight. I shrug and set the beer down, not wanting to get anymore intoxicated, given that I still have work later.
“I dunno, gotta be nice. I kinda owe him.” I mumble, kicking at dirt. Truth be told, I found those brothers interesting. Mysterious and dangerous, but alluring. Yes, they were trouble, but I always ended up attracting trouble anyway.
“You better be careful.” Jessie warns me, and I nod.
The night went on peacefully and we all enjoyed talking over the fire and relaxing with the kids asleep. I left for work and Jessie stayed at my place while Beau went out with his friends after dropping me off. He was gonna pick me up after work too, since he was gonna be in the same general area.
My shift was going fine until about one, when I recognized a familiar face and my whole night went sour. The creepy man from the other night was back, and he had his eyes on me. He was with another man at a table instead of the bar, but he was very obviously watching me. I informed the manager on duty but it wasn’t the same man from the other night, so he didn’t know the extent of how creepy the man was. He only came up to the bar once, having his buddy order drinks while he watched me. I remained calm and didn’t even glance at him, handing the drinks to his friend and accepting the two dollar tip without a word.
It took about a half an hour to finish cleaning up after everyone was out of the bar and I was dreading heading outside. I had a feeling that the man would be waiting for me again, but the manager didn’t want me wasting hours and had to stay behind to finish up, so I had to go out alone. I hung up my apron at the door and sighed as I locked up behind myself, leaving the manager alone in the building to finish recounting the drawers. I had already stuffed my tip money into my purse and had my keys tucked between my fingers as I looked around cautiously for a sign of anyone. There were still people out, despite being a bit past three in the morning. Beau hadn’t answered my texts in the last half hour and Jessie was asleep, so I had to wait. Great. Across the street, I spotted a nice looking motorcycle across the street, but that was the only vehicle besides far down the road.
I started walking toward the street light by the corner to wait for Beau when I heard a male voice call out. “Hey! Bitch!” I grasped my keys tighter in my hand and turned my head, spotting the man and his buddy down the alleyway. They stood up from leaning on the wall and started heading my way, so I started walking faster, but then they started running.
“Help!” I hollered and started running across the street. The adrenaline kicked in in my body as fear took over and I ran as fast as I could down the opposite side of the street. They were close behind me and I tried to hop over a fence, but they caught up and threw me onto the ground before I could get all the way over. “Help! Please!” I screamed as loud as I could, trying to kick the men away from me. The main guy sat on top of my hip and shoved a hand over my mouth, smirking evilly down at me as his buddy started trying to lift me. I kicked and flailed as hard as I could but I couldn’t get away as they drug me across the ground into a back alley.
“Hey!” I heard a different male voice holler and then there was the sound of glass breaking. The main man let go of his hand over my mouth to look behind him and I took that opportunity to scream as loud as my lungs would let me, before the second guy punched me in the face. I swore I saw stars as my face throbbed, the two still pinning me, my head propped against the second guy’s chest where he held a knife to my throat.
“Get off her. Now.” A deep male voice demands. I can’t see with the main guy on top of me but I am grateful for whoever it is coming to my rescue. The men only chuckle evilly but then something happens and the second guy jumps away from me quickly, making me slam my head down on the concrete. I groan and my vision goes blurry with tears as the stinging in my head intensifies. “Help…” I mutter as I fight to stay conscious, my head throbbing. The cold, rocky concrete is painful against my cheek, but not as bad as the weight of the man or the stinging in my head.
I can finally see around the main guy and spot a man a few yards away, aiming something in our direction. It’s hard to see with my blurred vision and the darkness, but it looks like a weird sideways weapon. “Ay, man. Chill out. We was just having some fun, that’s all.” The second guy insists, holding his hands up a little. I try to wiggle away but the man on top of me grabs onto my throat and holds a knife toward me.
“Think I won’t? Get the hell outta here or I’ll kill her right here, right now.” The man growls. I stare at the sharp tip of the knife in my face, fearing this is where my life will end. What will happen to Bailey and Colton without me?
The next moment is a huge blur. One second, there is a knife in my face, and the next, the man falls off of me, screaming in pain on the ground beside me. I jump up off the ground as fast as I can and stumble away from them, running blindly in the direction of where I had seen the shadowy figure of the other man. I stumble and trip in the combination of darkness and the pain throughout my body, reaching out to the brick wall to catch myself from falling but someone else catches me and I start flailing and trying to get away, until I look up.
It’s Merle. He hoists me up from where I was half fallen on the ground onto my feet and puts a hand around my waist to keep me up against him. His face is serious and it’s the first time he hasn’t cracked any jokes to me. I’ve never been more relieved to see someone in my life. I reach up and hold onto his neck, trying to keep my balance. The man continues screaming and cursing and I look back, spotting Daryl holding up a crossbow. “Oh shit! Fuck!” The second man screams, running away and leaving his friend behind with an arrow in his ass. Daryl walks over to him and takes his knife, pressing a foot on the man’s back and yanking the arrow out from his asscheek. I turn and hide my face in Merle’s shirt, disgusted and terrified. The screaming continues and then I hear a second scream and a trash can get knocked over. When I look back again, the other man is laying on the ground toward the back of the alley, an arrow in his leg.
Daryl stalks over to him and rips the arrow from his leg as well, kicking the man in the face before heading back toward the first man. “Ya ever, ever - come back here again… I’ll kill ya.” Daryl growls at the main guy who had been stalking me. Daryl rejoins us and puts a hand on my back hesitantly, looking down at me. I’d never been this close to either of the brothers and yet, somehow, I felt safer now.
“T-thank you.” I mumble into Merle’s chest, holding onto him tight, too afraid to let go. Tears stained into his shirt but I couldn’t bring myself to care - I was shaking and biting back crying.
“C’mon,” Merle mumbles, grasping onto my tight and trying to turn me around. I held onto him tight and let them lead me away, not paying attention. I saw Daryl grab my purse and keys in the corner of my eye and noticed Merle was leading me to a motorcycle. “You take her back, little brother. I’ll meet ya there after I finish up here.” Merle lets go of me and I feel like I’m going to fall over from the pounding in my head, but Daryl grabs onto me before I can fall completely over.
“Damn,” Daryl mutters, grabbing me tight and I notice that we are face to face. He’s got me by my waist and my hands grasp onto his shirt collar. “Sorry…” I mumble, blinking away fresh tears. He doesn’t respond but he helps me onto the back of the motorcycle. “Hold onto this.” He takes my hand and places it on these handlebar things, and I do. I do my best to stay up straight while he attaches my purse and his crossbow onto the back of the motorcycle and then sits in front of me. I whip my head toward the alley when I hear more screaming, but Daryl starts the engine and revs the bike. “Hold onto me. Tight.” Daryl hollers over his shoulder, and I do so without hesitation. I wrap my arms tightly around his waist and lean my head against his shoulder, terrified to fall off. I’ve never been on a motorcycle before - if I had been in a normal state of mind, I would have objected. But at this point, I wanted to get home as fast as possible.
The motorcycle is fast and the wind blows past us. I keep my eyes closed and focus on holding onto Daryl, feeling lightheaded and scared of falling off. It’s a short ride and he has to help me off of the bike. Holding onto his rough hand made me feel anxious and insecure but I had to in order to keep upright. He led me inside his house, and I did not object, as I did not want the kids to see me or for me to wake them up. He leads me over to a beaten up couch and I hesitantly sit down, looking around cautiously. I didn’t know if anyone else was here, but it seemed we were alone. I held onto my own arms tightly and tried to focus on my breathing. “I should uh, check ya out.” Daryl mumbles, crouching down in front of me. He waits for me to respond in some way, so I nod and uncross my arms. He runs a hand up my bare leg and I force myself not to flinch. I’m not afraid of Daryl, but tonight’s events have me shaken up. “Stand up,” He says, offering me his hand to help me get up. He lifts up my shirt a little and I flinch when he touches my back. “Yer pretty scratched up.” He comments, removing his hand from my back. “Should put somethin on that, so it don’t get infected.” He stands up when I sit back down and walks away, presumably to grab something. I hold onto my head and wince in pain where there is a large bump already forming.
Daryl returns with a few items in hand. He gives me a package of peas and shrugs, not meeting my eye. “Don’t have ice packs.” He mumbles, kneeling in front of me. “Turn around.” He tells me, and I move so that he can get to my back, placing the ice on my head. He starts applying something cold to my back and I sit as still as I can, wincing at the pain from where I was drug across the concrete. “Yer shirt’s all torn.” He notes when he pulls it back down. “Lemme see yer head.” I remove the ice and he gently runs his fingers through my hair, eventually finding the lump and I jump in pain, tearing up. “Sorry,” He mutters. “How do you feel? Ya might have a concussion.” He says, and I groan.
“I can’t afford to have a concussion.” I mumble and lean back into the sofa, holding the ice against my head once more. Daryl places a gentle hand on my cheek, below my eye, where I was punched. I look into his eyes as he gently rubs his rough thumb over what is surely a black eye. “M’sorry this happened to ya.” He mutters, looking away.
“Thank you for saving me.” I respond quietly.
“Wish I’d been there sooner.” He grumbles, standing up and removing his vest, tossing it onto the seat. He is wearing a black button down shirt and black jeans, his hair is matted against his forehead - but he looks very attractive. I look down at my bare knees that are now scratched up and feel my eyes burning again.
“What were you doing there, anyway?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Merle wanted a drink. Said ya worked there, wanted to bother ya I’m sure.” I let out a small chuckle and he continues. “We were leavin to head back, but we heard ya yellin.” I nod and look down again, trying not to think about it. I should be used to this sort of thing by now, given what I went through as a child.
Before either of us can say anything more, the door opens and Merle steps in, wiping his hands off on a rag. I notice the faint red marks on his knuckles and wonder what he had been doing, but try not to think of that either. Whatever he did, I didn’t care. Those men deserved it.
“She good?” Merle asks his brother, looking over at me huddled on their sofa. Daryl nods and explains my injuries briefly to Merle, who huffs. “Lucky we were there, sugar.” He comments. I don’t respond, hugging myself and shivering a little. Daryl notices but Merle heads to the bathroom, probably to clean up. Daryl walks away but returns shortly with a shirt and sweatpants. “Here. Ya can change in my room.” He mutters, handing the clothes to me. I am shocked but I accept and stand up slowly, following him back to his room. He shuts the door behind himself and I stand there for a moment, surprised to be in his room. He’s a lot sweeter than he likes to come off, it seems. It’s a very standard room. Pretty messy, no decorations, basic sheets on the bed, old paint. He clearly doesn’t care much for the room, it seems like he probably only uses it to sleep. It’s not “homey.” I remove my now ruined shirt and skirt and throw the large T-shirt on and tie the sweatpants on tight so they will fit me. The shirt is baggy and I notice it smells like Daryl. I hadn’t known what he smelled like before today but now I recognize it. It kinda smells like the outdoors, like firewood or something. It’s a nice scent, though, and I find it comforting.
I open the door with my old clothes in hand and spot Daryl waiting down the hall, leant up against the wall. Merle comes out of the bathroom at the same time and we make awkward eye contact. “Look like a Darylina.” He comments with a chuckle, walking past me toward the kitchen. Daryl looks at me for a long moment, until I meet his eye, and then he drops his gaze to the floor. I slowly approach him and give him a forced, appreciative smile. “Thank you.” I tell him gratefully. He has been so kind to me tonight. Before today, I hadn’t barely spoken to him before and he was always standoffish and seemed to avoid talking to me. It was a weird change, but welcomed. If only the circumstances it occurred under were different…
“Want me to throw em away?” He asks, referring to my clothes in hand. I shrug and hand them to him. He tosses them into a trash can and Merle walks over to the chair by the TV, popping open and beer and kicking his feet up. He seemed so nonchalant about the whole situation, it was weird. “Oh shit,” I mutter, realizing Beau is probably worried, waiting for me. “Do you have my phone?” I ask Daryl.
“That’s what yer worried bout?” Merle speaks up.
“No, I had been waiting for my ride. He’s probably worried.” I explain, looking to Daryl, hoping he had grabbed it. Silently, he pulls my phone from his pocket and hands it to me. “Thank you.” I unlock it and find a million missed calls from both Beau and Jessie. He must have woken her up when I never showed up. “Shit.” I grumble. I hated worrying them, after all they do for me.
“Yer boyfriend?” Merle asks, gulping down some of his beer.
“No, my friend’s boyfriend.” I respond as I text both of them in a group message that I was okay and that I would explain.
“Why would yer friend’s man be pickin ya up at three in the mornin?” Merle asks with a wink.
“Ew, no. I’m not like that. He’s a good friend, she’s watching the kids for me at my house right now. I gotta go let them know I’m okay…” I trail off, then remember I’m in Daryl’s clothes. “Uh, I can go change and bring these back-” I start, but he shakes his head.
“Keep em.” He insists, and I feel bad, but don’t fight back. “Ya might have a concussion, so ya should have someone check up on ya when ya sleep tonight, and get it checked.” He explains.
“Doctor Daryl.” Merle jokes sarcastically, and his brother shoots him an evil eye.
“Thank you guys for helping me. I don’t know how I can repay you…” I trail off, refusing to think about the course of the night again.
“Don’t worry bout it, darlin.” Merle smirks.
“Couldn’t just leave ya there.” Daryl mutters awkwardly, shuffling his feet.
“Well, still. Thank you.” I repeat before heading toward the door. Daryl follows behind me, handing me my purse and keys, and I wave before walking out and heading back to my house slowly, careful not to trip. I look back and notice he is watching me and I feel my cheeks heat up, fumbling to get my key out and open my door. I notice Beau’s truck is here and when I open the door, the two of them are sitting on the sofa, waiting for me.
Jessie and Beau were furious when I told them what happened and I ended up crying on her shoulder, letting the emotions from the night settle in. Beau threatened to go back out looking for them but I told him what I suspected Merle did and he didn’t. Jessie helped me get cleaned up and settled into bed. She slept next to me in my bed that night and woke me up every two hours, in case I had a concussion. Beau slept on the couch and I had never felt more appreciative for anyone more than I did for them and Daryl in that very moment...
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Little Hands (IV)
Series Masterlist
Communication is key.
This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo 2021. Word count: 2248. Square filled: “Sung to Sleep”
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: More Hydra Evilness, More Sad Child, Parental Anxieties. Brief mentions of war, sickness, death, grief.
A/N: I know 2.2k words isn’t objectively a lot but boy did this feel like it. I hope every word is worth it and that you enjoy! Lmk what you think!!! Also I won’t even lie, the idea of Steve’s kids is 100% from one of my favorite comfort fics, family means no one gets left behind or forgotten, by the genius, the wonderful cosmicocean. IT’S SO SOFT. Pls read it.
You’re stunned when Bucky tells you what’s going on. The idea that his daughter (?) was made in a lab like some kind of experiment, and that the man who led said experiment now wants her back like she is his property, his weapon, is too horrid to consider for very long. Weaponizing an innocent child. Hydra.
Bucky gave you the broad strokes of the investigation – currently running on little more than educated guesses based on the meagre intel they have – and has let you know that he has had to recuse himself from the case, due to his… personal connection. That leaves him somewhere he finds awkward, to say the least.
It's evident in the way the corners of his lips turn down, how he is constantly rubbing the pads of his fingers against the coarse scratch of denim, while he watches Ana watch Zoya, Steve’s 17-year-old daughter, working on a tablet. Zoya tucks a strand of hair behind her hijab, then continues to draw up a storyboard, narrating the events to the younger girl. Steve had apparently forgotten the lunch his kids had made him at home, so Zoya had brought it in, and decided to stay the day.
Ana’s quiet, attentive for the most part, listening with her full capabilities, but her eyes flit away from the screen every now and then to look at you and Bucky, as if to reassure herself that you’re still there.
Besides that, there aren’t all that many distractions present for an already precocious child. Most of the team has dispersed for the investigation, with the exception of Peter, who is sat at a table in the corner making intentionally fruitless efforts at teaching Morgan chess, while she giggles and tries to stack the pieces like Jenga blocks instead.
However, Bucky’s restlessness is infectious, and you think he needs to get it under check before it grows any further. That’s why you stand, saying, “Could we go for a little walk, Bucky?”
He nods, man of few words that he is, and leads the way. You’re sure he knows that you formulated it like a request for his benefit, but he doesn’t mention it. It’s just as well – that he knows you like that, and knows when to accept the proverbial hand being offered.
Bucky takes you to a corner of the roof that you’d mistake for a community garden if you didn’t know any better. The Avengers seem to have green thumbs, or at least, a significant portion of them do. They’re good with plants, and possessive about them, too. Autumn ferns grow outside the circle they seem to have been planted in – with a sign shouting Wanda! – to invade the territory of a vegetable garden labelled Bruce (accompanied by a Hulkish, green thumbs up presumably not drawn by the man himself).
Meticulously maintained daylilies and columbines, in vivid reds and vibrant purples, litter the edges of the path that has been carved through this little paradise, and the birdhouses between them stake the claim of the owner more effectively than a neon sign screaming Sam Wilson. Bucky’s told you about his abilities, how they veer into the decidedly supernatural but Sam insists are only the residue of a childhood with homing pigeons.
Nothing here looks like Bucky’s, though. He seems to be taking it in, perhaps thinking about his own little paradise back in the city, and how he’s chosen to keep it distant from that of his teammates. That worries you. He worries you.
And this, the situation with Anastasia, becoming a father, it’s terrifying. Hell, if it scares you this much, how is he feeling? You ask him as much.
“Bucky, are you okay?”
He laughs, softly, disbelievingly, no malice in his scoff, only fear. Only the sound of a voice saturated with consternation and total, complete anxiety. “Would you be?” He asks back.
“That’s why I’m asking.”
Bucky evades the questions, turning first one way on the path, and then the other, approaching the edge clear of shrubbery and blooms alike, resting his palms on the top of the wall.
“I can’t be a father.”
The solemnity in his tone allows no room for negotiations, but then, neither do the facts. “You are,” you reply, somewhat hesitantly, because the technicalities of how Ana came to be are still a little blurry to you. She’s far from a normal child, and not quite a clone, either. She is of Bucky, though. His, in any way that counts.
“That little girl was created in a Hydra lab as a super soldier to serve the cause,” he says, shaking his head vigorously as the cause repulses him even more than it does you. “And who knows what else she was put through before SHIELD fell and Orlov got her out, and it’s my fault.”
“You didn’t—”
“I didn’t ask for it to happen but it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t happened. They used me to make a super soldier from scratch, and now I’m supposed to raise her? It’s not that simple. I’m not Steve. I can’t…”
Being honest, you feel you’re pretty far out of your depth here. But you’ve promised him your help, and you’ll do your best.
“You don’t have to. There are other options.” You’re sure you’re overstepping. Perhaps this gentle companionship has not yet reached the point where you can give advice on parenting. But if you don’t, who will? Steve, whose answers don’t enter the gray territory Bucky’s mind is residing in right now, who parents like he was born for it?
Steve chose fatherhood. Bucky has been nailed to it like it’s a new cross to bear, heavier than all the previous ones put together.
His gaze roams the grounds that stretch as far as you can see. You’re both far away from home right now, far outside your comfort zones.
“I’m sorry for dragging you into my mess, sweetheart. It’s not right. You have things to do, and I shouldn’t have—”
“Bucky, I’ve been staring at the same four sentences of dialogue for the past month. I literally could not have been happier to get out of the house. Even if I do wish it was under better circumstances,” you say fervently. You’re here because he needs you. Because Ana needs you. It’s nice to be needed.
“That’s one way to put it,” he smiles, and you’re glad to see it.
“Not to mention, it’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault except whoever your team is looking for,” you insist. “And Ana’s a sweet girl. A little quiet, but Baba says I was, too.”
This, Bucky thinks about. You wonder if he was a quiet child, too. “What’s he like?”
“Hmm?” The reverie snaps like a rubber band.
“Your father?” Bucky asks, shyly, his eyes meeting yours, letting you know exactly why he’s asking.
You look up at the clouds, think back to Boston, to time shared between the library and the park. A childhood with books, lunch breaks under a desk in an office at MIT, stealing his glasses and running away with them, rubbing at his stubbly beard like he was a housecat. Inside jokes with your father and rolled eyes with your mother. Laughter and tears, laughter with tears.
After a long while, trying and failing to summarize your father, you say, “A jokester. The most sarcastic person I know. But still kind of neurotic, to be honest. The kind of parent that makes you show up at the airport a full four hours before your flight.” It’s grossly insufficient. For a writer, you’re not very good with words. You suppose it’s not the words that are the problem; it’s the lifetime they have to encompass. “What about yours?”
Bucky sighs. “Soldier. He’s one thing I don’t feel bad for not remembering because it wasn’t Hydra that wiped those memories. He just died when I was really small. Survived the Great War only to be killed by TB a few years later at home.”
“I’m sorry.” You avert your eyes. Grief feels private, even decades later, even in the smallest doses.
He shakes his head, smiles fondly, up at the sky, too, like you did. Only, he’s smiling at it, like he’s thinking of someone beyond the clouds. “Don’t be. Was a long time ago.”
“That doesn’t mean it isn’t allowed to hurt anymore.”
“You sound like my therapist.”
“I sound like my therapist.”
At this, the two of you look at each other and burst into laughter. It feels forbidden, as though the severity of the situation condemns joy. That isn’t fair, you think. The situation is that of a child, and nobody needs laughter more than kids do. Food for the soul.
When the echo of your exhilarations falls, Bucky grows serious once more. “They have them for kids, now, too, right?” He asks, referring to therapists. “Do you think Anastasia should see one? She’s not exactly… normal, you know?”
“Maybe.” It’s a difficult question, but a good indicator of how Bucky is growing to feel about Ana. “You’d make a good dad, if you wanted to be one, Bucky,” you say, and mean it. It’s plain as day that he cares about her.
“I can’t even remember my own.”
“Parental instincts are intuitive, not genetic,” you tell him.
“You been reading handbooks?” He teases.
“You’d be surprised by how much you learn from the rabbit holes you fall down while researching books,” you deadpan.
“Can any of that research get the nightmares out of my head? I think it might scare a kid.”
The self-deprecation hurts, but your response is honest, heartfelt. “She likes you already.”
“She won’t if she thinks I’ve run away,” he answers, straightening up. He might be trying to evade the conversation, but you’ll let him, for now. He’s gotten some fresh air, had some time to clear his thoughts, or sort them, at least. And so you return, to the little girl who has a tighter grip on both of you than you even realize.
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Ana grows unsettled as night darkens the sky. It could be the ruckus she isn’t quite used to. It could be the toy fire truck Tony has been altering with his utensils to increase its noise output, much to Morgan’s amusement. It could be the actual parrot perched on Sam’s shoulder.
Whatever the cause, she hasn’t succumbed to it enough to make a seat out of the fridge again. She’s sitting in her seat, between Bucky and yourself, eating the hummus Bruce and Wanda have made. Nat discusses sniper scopes with Clint, Peter tries to get away with eating the side of vegetables on Jordan’s plate without Steve noticing, and Bucky eats silently, eyes almost constantly on Anastasia, who takes it all in while her knee bounces up and down with an ever-increasing speed, much like her father’s.
You excuse yourselves soon after dessert, after Morgan has fallen asleep against Jordan’s arm on the couch, and Steve and Tony’s friendly debate is starting to develop the edge it tends to when they’ve been bantering for too long.
Bucky sets up on the sectional in his room, and leaves the ridiculously large double bed to you and Anastasia. It’s been a strange, strange day, and one can only hope that tomorrow brings some ease, a balm for the prickly, fiery ache that has settled over the man you care so much about.
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When you wake, it’s because of singing. For half a moment, you think you’re in a dream, but as your eyes adjust to the blanket of dark, you see the shadow on the sofa nearby. Only, it’s bigger than just Bucky. Anastasia is sitting on his lap, her head cushioned against his chest. Scrambling for your glasses, and turning on the lamp on the bedside table, you notice that there are trails of drying tears on her little cheeks, and she’s still shaking with the aftershocks of whatever scare she must’ve had during the night.
Not for the first time, you curse your deep sleep that meant you didn’t wake with Ana, but watch in wonder as Bucky sings.
Hush, little baby, don't say a word Papa's going to buy you a mockingbird
And if that mockingbird won't sing Papa's going to buy you a diamond ring
Ana’s eyes begin to close, but she fights the sleep. Bucky doesn’t let her. He lies down, easing her down beside himself, singing all the while.
And if that diamond ring turns brass Papa's going to buy you a looking glass
And if that looking glass gets broke Papa's going to buy you a billy goat
His voice fills the room, low though it may be, and he curls himself around Ana.
And if that billy goat won't pull Papa's going to buy you a cart and bull
And if that cart and bull turn over Papa's going to buy you a dog named Rover
She succumbs to the lull of his tone, his song, his promises, sighs a little sigh, lets the last, little hiccup leave her body.
And if that dog named Rover won't bark Papa's going to buy you a horse and cart
And if that horse and cart fall down You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town
Bucky lifts his hand from where it was stroking the hair at her temple, and lays his arm over his daughter. They’re safe, for now. Together.
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What if a sole survivor that’s a teenager(like 14-16 years old) begins to view the companions and faction leaders as parental figures, before slipping up and accidentally calling them “mom” or “dad”? Just a thought.
Ada: “Ah, shit.”
Sole patted themself down, checking their pockets, before sighing. “I knew I should’ve taken the time to skin those mole rats.”
“Is something missing?”
Curious, Ada leaned over to check the project they were working on. They slid to the side to accomodate her.
“I just don’t have enough leather to finish my armor mods. I wanted to put some pockets in my chestplate so I could carry a couple extra rolls of duct tape, but I don’t think it’s going to happen.”
“Leather?”
She checked back through her mental inventory, sizing up what she was carrying. Enamel bucket, ashtrays, pack of cigarettes...
“Ah, here we are.” She pulled out a baseball glove and handed it over. “Will this suffice?”
“Oh, yeah, this is perfect!” They beamed. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Anytime.”
If either of them noticed sole’s little slip-up, neither of them said a thing.
Cait: Sole reminded her too much of herself, some days. She knew their jaded expression, their thousand-yard stare, the haunted look of a kid who’d seen more than they should have. She knew more about them than they’d probably like, which was how she knew to stop them before they could do something they’d regret in the long run.
“No chems,” she said, plucking the canister of X-Cell out of their hands before they could get too close a look at it. It still felt dusty from its years laying in a Concord Speakeasy, and she wiped her hand on her pants.
“I know,” they huffed, rocking back on their heels. “I was just looking.”
“Well, don’t.” She tucked it into a back pocket, making a mental note to either toss it in the closest river or sell it first chance she got.
“It’s not like anything bad can happen from just looking at it, Cait. I wasn’t even thinking about it.”
“You better not have been. If you start doin’ that shite-”
“I know.” Somehow, their tone remained patient. “I promised I wouldn’t do chems, and I won’t, okay, Mom?”
The breath left her like she’d been sucker punched. For a moment, all she could do was stand there, eyes wide, unable to form a thought, much less words. Was it really like that? Had she really let things go this far? How long until she ended up like-
“I mean, uh, Cait.”
She glanced up to see their face beginning to turn red, and they ducked their head.
“Sorry, it just slipped out. I don’t, I mean, I didn’t-” They huffed. “Sorry. I know you don’t want to be a parent or anything, and I don’t mean that you should, I just...”
They prattled on nervously, as if trying to comfort both of them, words going right past Cait’s head. To think sole thought of her as a mother. She couldn’t have that responsibility. Her parents had been trusted with a child, and look how she’d turned out. She couldn’t take that risk, not with sole, not when at any moment some switch could flip inside her and she’d turn into the monsters that had raised her.
She’d known this was a bad idea, right from the start.
Codsworth: “I was thinking about putting another mod on my pistol today,” they said, hunched over the kitchen table. They were poking at some circuit board or another, something that they’d never have been allowed to touch before the war. He eyed the screwdriver in their hands warily.
“A fine idea,” he said, resigning himself once again to the fact that a new world meant a new way of life for mum and sir’s child. “Perhaps a larger magazine?”
They chewed their lower lip thoughtfully, tightening a screw. “I was thinking something more quick-eject, you know? Speed in battle and all.”
He couldn’t argue with that.
“The only reason I hadn’t done it was I needed some more adhesive. But since Carla stopped by again and she had some duct tape, we should be set.”
“As I recall, Miss Carla had more than enough for an extra set of sights as well. You asked me to remind you when you had enough material for a large scope, and by my measure, you should be there now.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.” They nodded thoughtfully. “We can get that old hunting rifle in working order again. Thanks, Dad.”
He froze. Dad? Him? No, that wasn’t right. But they’d said it so casually, as if they hadn’t even realized they were saying it. Surely, they couldn’t have forgotten sir already. They’d had years with him as their father. Such things couldn’t be forgotten so easily.
“Sole.” He tried not to make his tone sound warning.
They, too, seemed to have realized what they’d said, ears beginning to turn red. “Sorry, Codsworth. I was just working and not thinking about it, and-”
“It’s alright. Such slip-ups happen, after all! We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t become a habit. After all, I’m simply the family Mr. Handy. Hardly a father. I wouldn’t want to take sir’s place.”
“Right, right. Sorry.”
“No need for apologies! We’ll simply call this a learning moment, for both of us.”
They sighed, “Sounds fair,” and returned to their work.
Curie: “You have your stimpaks, yes?”
They patted a pocket. “Got ‘em right here.”
“And your bandages?”
“In my bag.”
“Extra ammunition?”
They sighed. “Stop fussing, Mom. I told you, I’ve got everything I need.”
She pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side. That was certainly an... interesting choice of words.
“You see me as a maternal figure?”
“What?” They adjusted the straps on their bag, refusing to make eye contact.
“You referred to me as your mother. I am simply curious when you began to perceive me in such a role.”
“I don’t.” Their cheeks flushed, and they turned away further. “I didn’t call you ‘Mom,’ either.”
“Oh, but there is no need to be embarrassed! It is only natural for such things to happen. Your brain is still maturing, and as the primary provider of such maternal care in your life, it is predictable that you would-”
“Okay, okay, I’m leaving now.” They turned hastily to the door. “I’ll see you in a few days, Curie.”
“Certainly. Au revoir.”
As she watched their retreating back, she let herself consider the happy hum in her chest. Did she want to be sole’s mother? Was it that she wanted to be their mother specifically, or was there simply a general maternal instinct that was now surfacing? It was intriguing that such an instinct could exist in her, since she could never have children, but perhaps there was some lingering Ms. Nanny instinct that was affecting her. No matter what, it was certainly interesting.
If sole saw her as a maternal figure, she’d do her best to provide.
Danse: He found sole leaning against a wall, panting. There was blood splattered across their armor, gun dangling loosely from their fingers, but they were smiling, which was good enough for him.
“You look exhausted,” he said.
They laughed a little and smeared some of the blood from their cheek. “That was quite the fight. We should’ve brought some backup, huh?”
He glanced over at the scribe Quinlan had sent along, who had been of even less use than he’d expected, but decided to let that go and focus on sole. “I wouldn’t be so sure. You fared quite well on your own, and for your level of training your performance was impressive.”
Their eyes flicked over to meet his. “For real?”
“I would never lie to you, especially in your field evaluation. You’ve come a long way.”
He caught a hint of their smile before they ducked their head. “Thanks, Dad.”
He paused, sucking in a breath. While it wasn’t an uncommon mistake, it wasn’t one he was exactly willing to overlook. Still, best to approach things tactfully to avoid embarrassment for them. “What was that?”
They wouldn’t meet his eyes. “What was what?”
The scribe, tapping at the terminal, decided that was his moment to be useful. “You called Paladin Danse ‘Dad.’”
“No, I didn’t. I said, ‘Thanks, Danse.’”
He allowed himself a smile. “I didn’t know you saw me as a father figure, sole.”
“I don’t.” Still, their flush of embarrassment betrayed them.
He waved a hand through the air. “It’s alright, Knight. You wouldn’t be the first to refer to their sponsor as Mom or Dad, and I sincerely doubt you’ll be the last.”
Really, they were a good kid. Young initiates usually tended to find a substitute parental figure in the ranks, and of all sole’s options, he was glad it was him. He could keep them on the right track, make sure they didn’t go astray. With any luck, they could probably take his position someday.
All in all, this was a good thing for both of them.
Deacon: “Deeks, how does this jacket look on me?”
He glanced up from the hats in Fallon’s Basement to see sole tugging on the sleeves of a leather jacket. It was a bit rough around the edges, but it was just worn enough that he could believe it had seen some action. It wasn’t really their style, though; Agent Whisper tended more toward a softer kind of spy work, based more on charisma and less on punching people in the face.
“I like it,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “It’s a new look for you.”
“I was thinking I should add a more badass disguise to my collection. Try for that intimidation factor every once in a while, you know?”
He tossed the idea around a moment before agreeing. “We could make it work. It’d need practice, though, and some other accessories.”
“We could go get a bat from Mo while we’re here.”
“Now you’re talking. You put a couple nails in that sucker, and boom. You’re halfway to badass city right there. We’ll just have to teach you how to actually use it so you don’t stab yourself by accident.”
“Yeah, sure, but you’ll teach me, right, Dad?”
He nearly choked. Shit. Did sole know something he didn’t? No, that couldn’t be true. He’d never had kids, despite how much Barbara wanted them. Plus, sole had known their father. He’d seen the body, still half in cryo in 111.
That left the fact that sole had come to see him as a father figure, which left him in the awkward position of either shutting that down, probably hurting their feelings in the process, or just letting it slide. But could he even consider the latter? He couldn’t be a father, not in this state. He couldn’t lie every other word and still consider himself a decent parental influence, now could he?
Still, that voice in the back of his head nagged, “Barbara would want you to say yes. She thought you’d be a good dad.”
“Deeks?”
They looked at him quizzically, obviously still looking for an answer.
He sighed and, just this once, gave in. “Sure, kid. I’ll teach you how. It’s not that much different from their intended use, really...”
Desdemona: She always had a certain fondness for sole’s reports. She never got to hear much about the missions, just a quick affirmation of success and not much else. Sole, though, sole always told her a story, starting from the beginning and highlighting anything that they thought was interesting.
“But, you know, they’re just raiders,” they said, twenty-some minutes after they’d started. “In the end, H2 got where he needed to go. Highrise will take it from here.”
She smiled and ruffled their hair, making them laugh. “Good work, agent. You’re making all of us proud.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
They froze immediately, realizing what they had said, but their moment of embarrassment was cut short by Tom’s sigh of relief.
“Finally! You know how long we’ve been waiting for this? You took so long to join the club.”
Glory caught sole’s look of confusion and added, “Everyone calls Dez ‘Mom’ at some point. It’s basically a rite of passage.”
They looked to Dez for affirmation, and she could only nod.
“It’s true. It happens to everyone, sooner or later. I’m more than used to it by now.”
“You sure?” they asked, voice still hesitant.
“Positive. The only one that hasn’t is PAM, and she doesn’t have the capability.”
“Give her time,” Tom said. “She’ll get there.”
Gage: “You’re being stupid,” he snarled.
They glared back with surprising intensity. “You’re being a prick. You said yourself, I’m the Overboss. Things go how I want them to.”
How they’d managed that little trick, he didn’t know, but he hated it more and more every day. “Bein’ the Overboss doesn’t mean you don’t have to listen to anyone. You’re still new here. You better show me some respect.”
“Oh, fuck off, Dad,” they snapped.
That only pissed him off more. “What did you just call me, you little shit?”
They blinked, anger seeming to cool for a second. “Gage. What else?”
“No, you called me Dad.” His temper settled in return, hovering at a simmer. “Like this is some sort of family reunion or some shit.”
They snorted. “As if.”
“Don’t try and take it back now. I heard you.”
“You’re old and losing your hearing. Old fucker.”
His temper flared again, and despite that he knew they were baiting him, he couldn’t resist. “What was that?”
“What, I need to enunciate everything for you? Do you need your hearing aids, Grandpa?”
“What the fuck is a hearing aid?”
“What do you think, dumbass? It lets you hear better when you get old and lose your hearing. Like you.”
A knock on the door interrupted what he was going to say, and he snapped his mouth closed with irritation.
“Overboss?” The voice was muffled through the door. “Do you have a minute?”
“Yeah, just a sec.” They dusted their hands on their pants, anger instantly melting into a mask of cold determination. “Come on, Gage. Work to do.”
He huffed and resolved they would finish this later.
Hancock: He was always impressed with how well sole handled Goodneighbor. It went to show that they were much tougher than their age and pre-war softness let on; that this kid who looked like they’d never even handled a gun would shoot you without question if threatened. He’d seen how they’d handled Finn.
“Cold today,” they said, blowing into their hands. “This wind is killer. You wanna head inside and check up on things while I barter here?”
They gestured in the general direction of KLEO’s shop, and he chuckled.
“I dunno. Maybe the big, bad mayor better stick around to make sure you don’t get yourself into more trouble.”
They rolled their eyes. “Come on, Dad. I can handle myself, you know.”
They realized their mistake before he did, eyes widening, jaw snapping shut. He faltered, snappy words dying in his mouth before he got hold of himself again. Dad? Were they kidding? Their face said they weren’t.
“Woah, now.” He held up his hands. “It ain’t like that, kid. I’m not exactly the fatherly type, y’know. Cool uncle, maybe, but I ain’t anybody’s Dad.”
They huffed, clearly embarrassed, and diverted him by saying, “Bet you’ve been more than one somebody’s Daddy, though.”
“That’s more like it.” He nudged them in KLEO’s direction. “You go do your shopping, and I’ll go make sure they ain’t burnin’ down my town while I’m away.”
“Sure. If I’m not here when you get back, I’ll be in Hotel Rexford.”
“Sounds fine. Get me somethin’ nice while you’re at it, huh?”
“Alright, but I’m charging you a convenience fee.”
Content that they were back on the same page, he agreed and went to find Fahrenheit.
MacCready: “Your fever’s gone down a little.” He rested a hand against their forehead. “Seems you’re gonna pull through.”
They smiled a little, eyes still hazy with sickness and medicine. Soon, they’d be on their feet again, he hoped.
“I bet you’re a good dad, Mac,” they said. “Duncan must really love you, huh?”
He let out a sigh. Sole had been strangely emotional ever since they got sick, which had annoyed him at first, but lately he’d just come to accept it. After all, there wasn’t much he could do about it, was there?
“Jeez, I don’t even know if he remembers me. It’s been a while since I got to see him.”
“He remembers you. I mean, I remember my dad, and he’s been dead for a couple hundred years now, I guess.” They laughed a little, as if they’d said something funny. “But you should go see him. Take a break. I’ll be fine without you.”
“Nah, we’ll go together. After all, he’ll probably want to meet you.”
“You think?”
“Yeah. He’ll probably see you as some kind of adopted older sibling or something. You’ll get along.”
They exhaustion in their laugh betrayed them. “Sure, whatever you say, Dad.”
There was a wryness in their voice, an almost mocking note that told him they’d meant it as a joke, but long after they’d fallen asleep, he sat at their bedside, watching them. He’d thought he was joking, too, but now that he was along with his thoughts, he had to wonder. Maybe he did want them to meet Duncan, and maybe he did want them to get along like siblings. Could he do that? Was that wrong?
He sighed and rose from his chair. No use worrying about it now. Sole had probably been joking about him going to DC anyway. After all, there was work to be done here.
They definitely weren’t going anywhere until they were better, though. For now, he had to focus on making sure they pulled through.
Maxson: He watched them across the table as they studied the map of the Commonwealth spread between them. It was a crude battle plan, mostly consisting of bottlecaps and buttons, but it was enough for them to discuss. He found he was regularly impressed by their knowledge in this area; in many ways, they reminded him of himself at that age.
“What if we swung south?” They pushed three bottlecaps across the table. “The way C.I.T is set up makes anything but a direct assault difficult, but we could try to split their forces, or at least their fire.”
He hummed, considering. “You’re still assuming we can’t assemble Prime in time.”
“Right. I’m concerned they’ll force our hand before we’re ready. We need to be prepared for that.”
“If you hope to split their fire, we’ll have to split our forces. That means we’ll need more men overall and be pulling more away from the airport, leaving us vulnerable.”
They scrunched their face as they thought about it. “You’re right, but in these circumstances we’re already at a disadvantage, don’t you think? We’re outgunned and outmanned.”
“Both of which can be overcome by outplanning them.” He leaned back in his chair. “What you lack in physical strength can often be overcome with mental acuity.”
They glanced away from the diorama to look at him. “That’s pretty good advice. Nice one, Dad.”
He felt his heart skip a beat. They had already returned to the diorama, now considering the forces around the airport, but he suddenly couldn’t focus. Sole considered him a father figure. Did he mean that much to them that he was someone they looked to for guidance, not just on the Prydwen, but in all aspects of their life? To be a father to them, to be able to guide them, was more than he could have ever asked for.
He cleared his throat. “I believe you mean ‘Elder,’ Knight.”
“Hm?” They looked up again.
“You referred to me as something else. I’m reminding you that the proper title is ‘Elder.’“
“Oh. My apologies, Elder. It won’t happen again.”
He sighed. “I ask that you’re careful around the others. That is all.”
They nodded, mind clearly already on other things.
Nick: He watched them poke around Earl Sterling’s apartment, careful eyes taking everything in. He lingered by the doorway, letting them do their thing, curious to see how it would play out. He was taking a bit of a risk letting them work the case, but he figured he could clean up any mistakes they made along the way.
Mistake number one was probably letting them pick up all those beers, but he figured as long as he watched them sell them all, it would be fine.
“Aha!”
Triumphant, they emerged from where they had crouched on the floor, brandishing a piece of paper.
“Find somethin’?” He flicked his cigarette to the side, nudging it out with the toe of his boot.
“Some sort of receipt, I think. Facial reconstruction with Dr. Crocker. Appointment date... should have been sometime around his disappearance.”
“That means ol’ Doc could’ve been the last to see Earl alive.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Good work, kid.”
They flushed with pride and perhaps a bit of embarrassment at the praise. “Thanks, Dad.”
He raised an eyebrow, hoping they would realize their mistake on their own, but they were busy tucking the receipt into their bag. It seemed as though they hadn’t noticed at all, and after a moment of thought, he decided not to mention it. After all, there was no need to embarrass them. They’d realize what they’d said eventually.
Plus, it was kind of nice, in a way.
Piper: “You’ve got ink on your face.”
Sole glanced up from the freshly-printed edition of the paper, fingers wandering to their cheekbone. “Here?”
“Little to the left.”
“Here?”
“Less to the left.”
“Here?”
“Oh, just hold still.”
She leaned over, wiping the ink off their cheek with her thumb. It smeared a little bit, but was a marked improvement, and she scrubbed the rest away with the heel of her glove.
“There you go. Good as new.”
They nodded and returned their attention to the paper. “Thanks, Mom.”
They seemed to realize immediately, eyes widening, and Piper felt a sharp pain in her chest.
“Aw, Blue, you know I’m not really...”
They visibly deflated. “I know. I’m sorry, Piper.”
“Not like that.” She leaned forward, putting her coffee to the side. “I’m not upset by it. I’m just not that kind of person, that’s all. I’m like your older sister, not your Mom. I wouldn’t want to replace her. It’s not a big deal, just, you know, get it in your head.”
“Older sister?” That seemed to perk them up a bit, and she smiled.
“Yeah. You’re still part of the family, Blue. Just not like that.”
They smiled. “I guess I’ll take it.”
Preston: The first sign was always the quiet. Sole wasn’t likely to stay quiet for too long; they were always listening to the radio, humming or singing along. When it was quiet for too long, that usually meant they’d either wandered off without telling him, which was never good, or they’d fallen asleep somewhere.
Sign two was the glow of a lantern at the workbench. It wasn’t uncommon for them to work late into the night, but that was always accompanied by the sound of work: the screech of metal on metal, the hum of an engine, the rattling of loose hardware in its drawers.
Quiet and light together meant they’d fallen asleep at the workbench. Again.
“Sole.” Gently, he shook their shoulder. “Come on. You can’t sleep here.”
They sat up, bleary-eyed, a sheet of orange plastic cut from a pumpkin stuck to their cheek. Almost unseeing, they looked up at him with a sleepy, questioning hum.
“Come on.” Gently, he pulled at their arm.
“Sorry, Dad.” They rubbed their eyes, rising on unsteady feet. “I’m going.”
A smile crept to his face as he led them across the Sanctuary street to their home, making sure they got settled. Almost instantly, they were asleep again, long hours of hard living catching up to them all at once. Quietly, he closed the door behind him.
It was too good to be true. They were just tired, and mistook him for their father in the dark. But still, a part of him wanted to believe that it was possible. Maybe he could be a father to sole. He could show them how to make it here, in this unfamiliar world, and support them as they grew into the General he knew they could be.
Maybe, just maybe, they would let him.
X6: He watched them pace back and forth in front of the door, coat tails swirling with every pivot. They adjusted their lapels for the fifth time, sighed, and glanced around for a clock.
“It’s only four twenty-five,” he said. “You’ve still got twenty-five minutes.”
They sighed and sank heavily into a chair. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
They groaned and dropped their head onto the table. “You said it was thirty minutes to go, like, an hour ago.”
“Five minutes ago.”
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
He set his gun on the table with a sigh and set his sunglasses beside them. “If you keep worrying about it, you’ll only work yourself up more, and the time will seem to pass slower. Your best move would be to get a cup of coffee and relax.”
“I can’t relax.” They leaned back in their chair. “It’s my first meeting as the director. Half of the Institute already hates me because I’m so young, so if I mess this up I’ll be out on the street by dawn. This is no time to relax.”
“If you don’t relax, you’ll be more likely to make a mistake.”
“I know, but it’s easier said than done, Dad.”
He blinked. At first, he wasn’t sure if he’d heard them properly, but his hearing was beyond satisfactory. If he’d heard it, they’d said it, but that didn’t mean anything.
“Case in point. You’re upset, you make mistakes. Like that.”
They sank their head into their hands. “You’re right. I’ll- I’ll get some coffee. Sorry.”
“There is no need to apologize. Humans make mistakes, after all.”
#fallout#fallout 4#fo4#fo4 companions#fallout 4 companions#fallout 4 companions react#ada#cait#curie#danse#deacon#porter gage#hancock#maccready#nick valentine#piper wright#preston garvey#x6-88#desdemona#arthur maxson
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bnha hcs with an artsy s/o [1/?]
i’m going to make this a mini series, so expect to see this AND haikyuu characters too :) i will also do the k-pop hcs too, so look forward to that !
note: your quirk will be the same all around, if implied you have one!
Quirk: AMBIENT ILLUSION - with a single touch of your hand or glance, you are able to make your opponent think that they’ve been taken to another “realm,” but in actuality their body movements mimic those in the illusion; it’s a quirk that can be used for good or for bad; your creativity isn’t limited, but the side effects are headaches, nausea, and sometimes insanity for a short period of time until your stamina runs out or unless someone knocks you out
Hero Name: Chiaroscuro or Chiasu [for short]- referring to the major contrast of light and dark in an image; in italian it is said to literally mean light-dark
enjoy :)
---
s. aizawa
> teacher x teacher scenario tyvm
> you were a popular teacher at U.A., teaching in some of the general studies classes as an art teacher
> students in class 1-C, D, and E would flaunt how cute/hot and talented their pro hero of an art teacher was
> midnight was gossiping about you with present mic and aizawa overheard
> he knows you have your own agency, so how you double that plus being a teacher was beyond him
> “oh midnight! i was actually looking for you :)”
> aizawa-seeing-a-cutie.exe has stopped working.
> for someone who is low energy and stoic for the most part, this was new
> got more acquainted with the other teachers, but you were really close with aizawa
> funny thing is,,,you and aizawa met up a lot after school and you eventually started dating
> the other pro heroes at the school only found out is when midnight had walked in on them kissing
> the students found out about the relationship when aizawa walked you to your next lecture class as he left class 1-A with present mic
> aizawa glared at them and as soon as he left, your students pelted you with questions, until the teacher told them to quiet down
--- k. takami
> keigo is like a SIMP for you
> he practically with go out of his way just to buy you new art stuff
> “babe...i don’t need anymore sketchbook paper...i have an office at the school and they supply my paper-”
> “you can never have enough, my dove”
> you work at U.A. as an art teacher and met keigo when you were walking home from the school
> you had a run in with a villain, who was on a mission to kidnap you and he swooped in to save you
> your art was scattered all over and some destroyed and keigo caught a glimpse of them and noticed your U.A. badge
> “you’re a teach at U.A.?”
> keigo walks you home, if you chose to stay late to work on your art
> when you first started dating, he was wondering why you would stay so late, and you had to explain your quirk to him
> he wants to be your #1 source of ideas, but he gives you space when you’re truly at an artist roadblock
> when he took you flying for the first time, he vowed to take you every now and then because seeing how your eyes lit up at the city below made it worth while
--- t. shigaraki
> shiggy treats you like glass
> i see him as someone that really admires you and your quirk, let alone your ability to be able to create such fine pieces of art
> you were a lone wolf, who met dabi, who introduced you to the league
> when shigs laid his eyes on you for the first time, he was SMITTEN
> childishly rants to kurogiri when you and dabi are out patrolling
> “why do they always have to go with that burnt piece of shit”
> #getrekteddabi
> shiggy sucks at socializing and it doesn’t help that you always have a resting bitch face™
> you’re actually a softie and a sweetheart at heart, but you notice shiggs advances and are quite confused
> “uhm...hello, tomura-senpai,,,is there something i can help you with?”
> rip shiggy from the CUTENESS
> one day when you didn’t show up at the base and dabi did, shigaraki and kurogiri gave him a look
> “oh, if you’re looking for Chiasu, they’re at home sleeping...idiot stayed up painting again.”
> shiggy left after demanding dabi to reveal their location
> when he got there, he rang the doorbell and questioning why he came because this really isn’t something he does
> “hmm? tomura-senpai? what are you doing here?” **rubs sleep out of your eyes**
> he felt his heart leap
> “i came to see my s/o after being told that they stayed up working. now, are you going to let me in or am i going to have to force myself inside your house?”
--- dabi
> you were at witz end with your life as a pro hero
> you weren’t depressed or anything,,,just bored,,,no ideas or fighting spirit
>one day, you had happened to run into dabi committing one of his oversized fires
> he tried reading you, but all he got was just your stoic, almost sad, expression
> you hadn’t moved and he was walking toward you, stopping and moving his face down to your level
> “well, well what do we have here?”
> you hadn’t remembered much from that day, but you hadn’t run into dabi and the only time you really left your house was to get more art supplies and food
> when you were trekking home on the same path, dabi stepped from the shadows in front of you
> you just gave him a blank look and tried to side step him, but obv he didn’t let you
> what happened next was probably the most shocking,,,he embraced you
> you didn’t know what to do other than cry...for losing your fighting spirit
> after that day, dabi would check up on you frequently and eventually he convinced you to stay with him, so he can stay with you
> it took about 2 months to get you to smile and boy was that worth it
> you were grateful of dabi for sparking [pun not intended] your creativity
> “if you’re so grateful, why don’t be mine?”
--- h. toga
> innocent is how toga would describe you
> her attraction to you was much more different than the times where she’d feel the need to cut someone up
> she wanted you in one piece, unharmed
> so she dragged you to be apart of the league of villains with her
> shigaraki was skeptical letting in a quirkless civilian into the league, but he found your ability to design and draw potentially useful
> dabi likes to mess with you to rile up himi
> “you lay another burnt hand on my s/o, i WILL cut you”
> himi doesn’t like the fact you’re close with some of the LOV members, so she whisks you away to her room or somewhere that’s not the base
> if you go to school and you’re adamant in finishing, himi will kinda leave out the villainous aspects of her life so you can finish
> if you go to school and you really don’t care for it, she’ll try to convince you to become a full fledged member of the LOV rather than an associate
> the mission with the yakuza was probably super nerve-wrecking for you after you saw it on the news
> you were greeted with a toga at your door that evening and you just glomped her and expressed how concerned you were, knowing what her role in the mission was
> himi met you online and then began kinda figuring out when you went to your fav cafe and art store and what you like to buy and the such
> attentive, but psycho was how you described her at first, but just accepted that aspect of her
---
k. chisaki
> for someone who looks like a plague daddy- doctor none of the members of the yakuza would have imagined him dating a cutie with a QUIRK
> for starters, you kinda once over the media on the yakuza, more so concerned with your art
> so when you accidentally ran into kai one evening, you kinda just shrugged it off and continued to walk home
> he was so confused like didn’t you know who he was?????????
> nonetheless, he saw you again, while you were making your way home from the convenience store with your [fav. drink + snacks]
> “oh hey! i remember you!” **insert tense kai** “you’re that guy from the other day! how are you?” **cue confused kai**
> you didn’t really have much of a reaction when you FINALLY put two and two together on
> “you’re a part of that villainous yakuza, right?” **insert tense kai** “it’s okay i won’t tell, i like you too much to turn you in :)” **cue confused kai**
> he wasn’t sure whether to be more concerned about the fact you’re letting him, a villainous yakuza go, or the fact he is starting to develop feelings for you
> regardless, kai had “kidnapped” you more like you willingly agreed to stay with him, hidden away somewhere, where you were safer
> he allowed you to continue your artistry, but he made sure to stay away at least from that aspect of your life
> he wanted you to feel like you had those forms of freedom with the line of work that he was involved in because he loves you very much
> BONUS: you held a grudge on kai for keeping eri hidden away from you and for what he did to her and got a couple of hits on his ass, but you stayed with her and aizawa after kai was arrested
---
sorry some of these are short or kinda are,,,,idk bad? ^^;
#bnha headcannons#aizawa x reader#hawks x reader#bnha x reader#shigaraki x reader#overhaul x reader#kai chisaki x reader#himiko toga x reader#dabi x reader#keigo takami x reader
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"don't freak out" with de-aged Dadzawa to Shinsou
I think I took this in a different direction dear...but I hope you like it XD
WC 1900~, rated T, de-aged aizawa, references to child abuse and implied child abuse, happy ending, dadzawa&shinson
There’s a new little boy today.
Hitoshi stares from behind Miss Tanaka’s legs, gripping at her dark blue skirts tightly. He knows she won’t like this, but for now she’s occupied with welcoming the new kid and Hitoshi will take advantage of it for as long as possible.
The boy is dark; dark eyes and dark hair, dark lashes that fan out across his cheeks. Pale skin. It’s been a while since a new boy has come to the orphanage, and this one looks to be about his age. Hitoshi just turned six this year.
“What’s your name, dear?” Miss Tanaka asks in her sickly-sweet tone, the one she uses with certain people that don’t include Hitoshi. It won’t last long. She really likes to yell an awful lot. “What did your parents call you?”
“Shouta,” the boy says immediately. Hitoshi blinks. The boy doesn’t seem shy, unlike most new orphans. Hitoshi is still shy, and he’s been here as long as he can remember.
“Found him in an alley, poor thing,” the social worker says. Hitoshi can’t remember her name. He startles when the boy—Shouta—speaks again.
“I don’t belong here. I have a home—”
“Yes, yes dearie, that’s what they all say,” Miss Tanaka dismisses. Hitoshi looks up at her when he feels her gaze find him, and he fights his natural instinct to cower. Her eyes go cold when she sees the wrinkles his fists have left in her skirt. “Hitoshi, dear,” she grits out between clenched teeth, “why don’t you take Shouta with you upstairs? Show him the boy’s room, yes?”
It’s phrased as a question but Hitoshi knows it isn’t a request. He nods frantically, immediately grabbing one of Shouta’s small wrists in his clammy hand. “Come on, this way.” He can do this. He can be good, useful. They won’t hurt him if they can use him, he’s sure of it.
The boy doesn’t come willingly and yet Hitoshi perseveres, stomping his small socked feet up two flights of stairs to the younger boy’s room; the girls have their own and the older boys as well, across the hall. Every step brings more struggle from the boy behind him but Hitoshi won’t stop, can’t stop when this is him being good. He has to be good.
“Hey kid, stop—”
“No, we have to listen. You’re new here, but I’m telling you, ya’ have to listen or you’ll get in trouble—”
“Kid, stop.”
“My name is Hitoshi.”
“Hitoshi, it’s okay. Just—calm down.”
He hadn’t even realized just how hard he was breathing, and it only dawns on him as they come to a stop in his—theirs, now—slightly rectangular bedroom, filled with bunk beds from corner to corner, with a wide open space in the middle kept meticulously clean. Hitoshi takes a deep breath as he whirls on the boy behind him, the kid’s dark eyes half-hooded with obvious apathy.
Did Hitoshi ever look like that, or was he always afraid? Shouta doesn’t know enough about this place to be scared of it, but fear keeps Hitoshi safe, so he will teach the boy. He’ll teach him. He ignores Shouta’s suggestion that he ‘calm down’.
“You sleep when they say, eat when they say, and play when they say. Do your lessons when Miss Ro says so, and wash behind your ears. They check, believe me…” Hitoshi says darkly. Shouta’s eyebrows are slowly knitting together; that’s fine. It means he’s taking Hitoshi seriously. “It’s alright here, if you follow the rules and stay out of the matrons’ way. The older kids are pretty nice. They’ll help you, if ya’ ask. ‘Specially the ones who have been here a while. They get it.”
Hitoshi wants to tell him about the dark room and the belt, the sly fingers that yank and pull at ears and cheeks and skin without warning, leaving red crescent marks and sometimes blood—but he’s hoping the other boy will never have to experience that.
“I’ll help you. You’ll be alright, with me.” Hitoshi tries to smile reassuringly.
Shouta doesn’t smile back or look relieved like Hitoshi had hoped; if someone had told him this when he first arrived, Hitoshi thinks he himself would have appreciated it. Learning on the fly has ended in too many nights with a raw bottom or aching back when the matrons get too heavy handed with the belt. He cringes inwardly.
Shouta’s face is smooth, impassive. Hitoshi doesn’t like that he can’t read the other boy easily; is that normal for kids their age? Hitoshi can’t seem to hide a single thing from the grown-ups.
Shouta shifts his weight, his eyes narrowing in apparent suspicion. Hitoshi flinches. Did he mess this up, too?
“Do they hurt you, Hitoshi?”
He feels the blood freeze in his veins. Is he that obvious? Oh well, he supposes there’s nothing for it now. He’d rather shelter Shouta from the hard truth of it, but if he already sees it written in the lines of Hitoshi’s tiny body and the sound of his frantic words, then...well the matrons are always telling him to be honest, aren’t they.
“Yeah...but it’s alright. You just gotta be better than me, Shouta. You can do that, right? It’s not so hard. I’ll still help you, I promise, just follow my lead, okay? You don’t have to be scared.”
The thing is, Shouta doesn't look in the least bit scared.
He looks furious.
Hitoshi is about two seconds away from cowering back and finding his bed where he can hide under the blankets and pretend he has some semblance of safety under them. How did he mess this up already? How is Shouta mad at him before he’s even had a chance to get to know Hitoshi?
“Hey, hey kid, no- I…” Hitoshi looks up to see one of Shouta’s small hands, reaching out to him. It’s slow, and this is about the only thing that keeps Hitoshi held fast in place. Once again, he can’t help but think that this boy is strange; he doesn’t hold himself or talk like any other kid Hitoshi has ever met. The confusion only heightens the sense of wrong that all of this brings and it welcomes hot, unbidden tears to his eyes. But it’s been a long time since Hitoshi has let himself cry, so he holds them back and they burn all the more.
Shouta sighs, the little sound echoing out across the bare wooden floors around them. He stares Hitoshi down with a quiet strength that Hitoshi doesn’t know what to do with. “If I tell you something, you have to not freak out, ok?” Hitoshi nods, though he’s not sure if he’ll freak out or not. Shouta nods back resignedly. “I’m not truly a child. My name is Aizawa Shouta and I’m actually...big. A grown up,” he says slowly, as if trying to find the right words to explain himself. Hitoshi on the other hand feels his jaw drop to the floor. “I got hit by a quirk that made me small and I got turned around in the confusion. That stupid woman brought me here, but I’m not an orphan. I’m a pro hero. Eraserhead.” He finishes off by jutting a hand forward, his small fingers poised into a clear invitation for a handshake.
It’s this last detail that settles the thought in Hitoshi’s mind: Shouta is telling the truth.
Hitoshi knows this with every trembling bone in his body for multiple reasons. One, no kid his age has ever talked the way Shouta does, with slow pauses and thoughtful phrases, with fire in his words ready to stand up to even Miss Tanaka downstairs, lacking any and all fear of authority that Hitoshi has quickly learned to cultivate.
Two, the story seems like it could be true. People are affected by quirks all the time and accidents happen a lot. Hitoshi has been on the receiving end of too many quirks to not believe Shouta when he says this is what happened.
And three...well, three is the most convincing of all.
Because Hitoshi knows of Eraserhead. Hitoshi loves Eraserhead.
Hitoshi thinks back to when it happened. He's pretty sure he was five, though the days tend to all run together. Measurements such as weeks, months, years mean very little to him, but he’s almost sure he’s right. In the summer, the matrons find themselves busier than usual--with school being out and all--the kids running rampant with boundless energy. But not Hitoshi. No, he had taken the opportunity to slip away, out the front door and down the street, where the city was somehow blissfully quiet and where he had gone to enjoy his time alone. Well, not entirely alone.
“You back again, kid?” Eraserhead had asked. After the second time of meeting in the alley, the man had finally introduced himself, though Hitoshi never did return the favor. Hitoshi had been floored when he learned the man was a pro hero. Hitoshi nodded in response, kneeling down to observe the real reason the both of them ever found themselves in that alley that smelled of hot, sweltering garbage.
A mother cat had birthed kittens a few weeks back and Hitoshi was fascinated by them. Eraserhead was too.
And now, Eraserhead is a boy with dark hair and dark eyes that Hitoshi recognizes and oh my god it’s real, what are they gonna do--
“Shh, shush, it’s alright Hitoshi.”
The boy pales. “Do you...do you remember me?” He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Shouta says no, it might just break what’s left of his half-starved heart. This is Eraserhead--Shouta, a pro-hero who now knows what happens to Hitoshi in the dark corridors of this place, and he had always wanted to tell Eraserhead but he could never seem to strike up the courage. But now Shouta knows and what if still nothing changes--
“Yes, I remember you, kid. I took one of those cats home, did you know? Never saw you again after that last time.”
Hitoshi didn’t know. One day he went back and the cats were just gone.
“Took the rest to a shelter. They were old enough to be separated from their mother and it just didn’t feel right leaving them on the streets. Bothered me I couldn’t tell you that,” Shouta sighs. Hitoshi blinks, still trying to reconcile the silhouette of the man he had begun to know and bond with, with the figure of a small boy before him. He feels like he needs to sit down.
“Listen, kid,” Shouta begins, his tone leaving no room for argument, “I’m not staying here. I’ve got people out looking for me and for all I know, this quirk has a time limit.” A small hand comes to rest firmly on Hitoshi’s shoulder and he looks up from where he had unknowingly been staring at his shoes. “And when I leave, I’m taking you with me. I know these places aren’t great but...mm," Shouta shakes his head. "I’m not just gonna leave you here, kid. Hitoshi. Do you want to come with me?”
Hitoshi feels numb, his fingers tingling weirdly, but not unpleasantly. He can’t quite get his mouth to work.
For a moment Shouta looks nervous. “I named her Sakura. She’s the one with the blue eye, remember?”
The cat. Shouta is talking about the cat. Hitoshi feels a small smile break onto his face, stealing space like a creeping shadow. Shadows. Hitoshi would like to leave behind his shadows. He finds himself nodding. He licks his lips, voice cracking when he speaks.
“Sakura. I like that name.”
Shouta smiles.
send me prompts!
#and then they lived happily ever after#i dont know what this orphanage is lollll#my writing#dadzawa#age regression#bnha#my hero academia#fic#hurt/comfort
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