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petertingle-yipyip · 2 years ago

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MAD AT GOD - MATT MURDOCK

season 2b epilogue - sad, beautiful, tragic

tags: @americaarse @dusstory @ironprincessstranger @mayasaurus--rex @astrobees @johnmurphys-sass // six // masterlist // season 3

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Livia (past) / Billy Russo x Livia

Word Count: 3,854

Summary: Time drags on without Matt Murdock, though he still lingers in everything around her. Attempting to move forward, Livia is pushed over an edge. (warning: short attempted drowning scene. written in red so it can be skipped)

Being back in the apartment after the police finally released you, it felt empty. Almost as empty as you did. Matt’s clothes were still laid about the floor, all over the bedroom and even the living room. The place still smelled like him, like his scent was soaked into the floorboards. You kicked the clothes into the closet, unable to bring yourself to touch them, worried they would disappear if you grabbed them.

The bed was too big without him, uncomfortable to be alone in. His side was too cold as you tried sitting on the floor with your back against it, your side was too warm when you did the same thing. You shoved yourself away quickly and felt your heart begin to race.

There were memories covering every inch of space that began closing in. Painted on the walls, sewn into the sofa, carved into the floorboards. Pinned to the fridge, tucked into books, saved in picture frames, hidden in every nook and cranny. Everywhere you turned, you could hear his voice as you were bombarded with instances that had made you happy. Now, you wanted to forget you ever loved him, made you want to burn the apartment down. Maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so bad if everything was gone.

Suddenly, it didn’t feel like that apartment was home.

You didn’t belong there.

It was supposed to be a home. A place born out of love and full of warmth, with a hopeful outlook for your future together. It was a place where two people tried to beat the odds and have a normal life. The lawyer- turned vigilante -turned lawyer again and the assassin- turned law student- turned vigilante- turned lawyer - turned security detail. It was supposed to be a home, where strength and tragic pasts met the idea of hope and redemption. Maybe not with a family made up of mini Y/Ns and mini Matts, but with the family you two found along the way.

But you felt like a stranger in your own place. You didn’t belong in Livia’s home. That place was reserved for Livia and Matt. Not whatever you were left with since a huge piece of you went down with Matt at Midland Circle just hours before.

You felt more like Exodus than you ever did before, angry and alone.

Maybe you deserved all of that. The agony. The loneliness. The guilt. The regret. The despair. The gnawing pang in the center of your chest that threatened to engulf you with every swelling breath.

Just days before, you were enjoying the balance you managed to find. You had someone to keep you in check, to force you to take a step back and realize what was going on around you. But now… Now you were left with nothing.

Now you were nothing.

How were you supposed to live like that? With that pain. With that crushing weight of knowing you didn’t save him. You didn’t save the man you loved. The man who loved you for you, who knew you long before you really knew yourself.

You went into your bathroom and left your mask, Bites, and belt on the counter. You started the water and pulled the tie from your hair. You didn’t care to fight your boots off so you stepped in with them on, seeing the water stain red with blood and the floor black with the grime of your boot soles. You sank to the floor and let the water soak your suit, hoping it could rinse the lonely feeling off your skin.

It didn’t.

You let yourself slide down until your were laying flat, water bouncing off your chest as your eyes closed. The moments replayed as soon as you did. Your foot knocked the lever to cover the drain and you felt the water pooling beneath you.

You knew you should get up. You had a life to get back to. If you fell apart after Daredevil died and Matt would coincidentally disappear around the same time, it wouldn’t be long before people put two and two together. That would connect you to Exodus. Everything you worked to keep secret would be brought to light and all hell would break loose without either of you there to serve as floodgates to take the brunt of the beatings.

But if Daredevil was dead and Exodus was dead… It wouldn’t matter if Livia and Matt went missing or if people found out. There’d be no one to attack.

Those thoughts ran rampant as the water level rose, now enough to cover your arms.

Maybe the Bulletin would run a story that someone drowned you. Followed you home and snuck in, caught you by surprise as you were defenseless and getting ready for a shower. That’s why the boots were on but the accessories were off.

Now the water started covering your chest.

Hopefully Karen would write the story. You trusted her to create something that didn’t criminalize you or Matt.

You figured the water would eventually soak the floorboards and bother your downstairs neighbors. They’d call the landlord, who’d come in and find your body. Karen or Foggy would have to ID you.

Karen or Foggy would have to ID you.

The water had reached your chin when you realized that. You remembered what it was like when your office had to ID Elena’s body, how heartbroken Karen was. You remembered what Foggy felt when he realized one of his best friends weren’t coming back. Could you really do that to him?

The water was creeping up your nose when you made a decision.

You shot up so quickly that the water sloshed over the side of the tub and soaked your mat. You turned the water off and cleared the drain, sitting in the draining water while you coughed violently to clear the water from your airways.

You decided quickly that you wouldn’t tell anyone about that.

As days passed and there was no news on any bodies beneath the rubble, you truly gave up hope. You had lost everything. And everytime you woke up in that bed, the bed that would always smell like him, you were slapped in the face with that reminder. Every morning it made you scream.

One morning a few weeks of nothing, you thought there was somewhere you could go yet again. You knew it would be the same, that being there would change nothing. But still, your heart forced some hope into your thoughts.You told yourself that you could find comfort in this place, like you did before, because it was somewhere so dear to him. Somewhere maybe you could relish in his memory rather than be suffocated by it. Wearing one of Matt’s old college sweaters, one that still smelled like his cologne, you walked the familiar path to the church.

You sat alone on the bench outside, though if someone had asked you what was special about the church, you wouldn’t have had an answer for them. The building didn’t pulse with devotion anymore, despite patrons walking in and out. It didn’t feel warm or smell like cinnamon. Instead it was like abandoned ruins, like the fire inside was snuffed out after being used to tear it down. You turned to face the church and leaned against the rod iron fence, resting your chin against the hands you had folded over the metal.

“Little lonely out here, isn’t it?” Father Lantom asked as he came and motioned to the space beside you. “And cold.”

You scooted to make a bit more room but said nothing.

“Alivia, right?”

“Mhmm.” You hummed.

“You know, it’s much warmer inside. And my offer for a latte still stands, or just a conversation.”

You offered a weak, polite smile. “I actually think it’d be colder.” You said honestly. “I just…”

“Seal of confession applies to this bench.” He offered genuinely. “If you need it.”

You were quiet for a moment as you thought about it. You knew how Matt trusted Father Lantom, how he knew he would get honest advice from him. And if Matt trusted him, that still meant something. You let your head fall to the side and looked at the older man beside you, feeling like a lost child looking for someone to help.

“I miss him… Everyday I wake up alone. Every night I sit on my rooftop and wait for that damned suit. But I know it’ll never come. Then it hits me and everything is fresh again and I feel like I can’t breathe anymore. He’s gone… He’s gone but I’m still here.”

“And you blame yourself?”

“I couldn’t stop him…”

“I see… And you joined him in this other life?”

“I did..” You smiled softly, thinking of nights you and Matt spent running around Hell’s Kitchen in your vigilante suits. “And when we were out there, all night… It was like we were unstoppable. We had each other’s backs.”

“That’s why you feel you should’ve saved him?”

“C’mon, Father. You knew him.. He was a better person than me. Why did he deserve to die?”

“Alivia, no one deserves to die… When Matthew was young and struggling with his new life, I once explained to him that God’s plan is like a beautiful woven tapestry. But only He can see the true beauty of it. We see the frayed strings and messy stitches, and even that is just a fragment of the picture, so it doesn’t make sense. But what is planned for each and every one of us is truly remarkable.”

“I’m sorry, Father.” You sighed. “I know bringing in your big guy upstairs is the whole point of this place, but I didn’t come here to find religion. To be honest, God and I are never gonna be on the same page. That’s why I gave up on religion.. There’s not a single one that can save me.”

“Then what did you come to find?”

“A memory of Matt that didn’t make me feel like I was drowning.”

“Thought I’d find you here.” A familiar voice announced from behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Billy. “You doin’ okay?”

“No different than yesterday.” You shrugged and got to your feet. “Thanks for the chat, Father.”

“You’re welcome here anytime, Alivia. Whatever the reason.”

That was part of your new routine for the next few days. You would wake up, go sit on your worn spot outside the church until Billy or Curtis found you. Sometimes they’d bring coffee or breakfast. You went to work and took it out on the new recruits. You went home and felt everything drain out of you, except on nights where you went to Curtis’ support group for veterans or beat the shit out of a punching bag at Fogwell’s. But most nights, you laid on your rooftop when the sun went down until the air grew cold and damp enough to make your nose runny. Then you’d climb into your far too big bed, sleeping on Matt’s side to make sure no one else dared to touch it, and fight through the night to sleep just to wake up in a daze.

You woke up confused why you were on the wrong side and reached over to find yourself alone. Then you remembered he was gone and you started the cycle all over again.

You started inviting Billy over after work instead of your rooftop isolation after about a week of waking up screaming for Matt and getting no response.

“Finally bringing me home to meet the mister?” He teased the first time you had him in your cold, lonely apartment.

“Nah, you wish… He’s gone, actually.” You said simply, trying to keep any type of emotion out of your voice. “Drink?”

“If it’ll get you to tell me what’s really goin’ on with you lately..”

“Since when are you so interested in my personal life, Mr. Russo?” You tried to joke as you sat beside him and handed him a beer.

The same beer Matt always kept on hand. It was cheap and tasted like it. You didn’t even like it that much but… Matt.

“Since the guys have been complaining about ‘the chick who takes her job way too seriously’. All of a sudden you invite me over while your guy’s away… Somethin’ isn’t adding up here, Livia”

“He’s not away, Billy. He’s dead… He’s been dead for a little while.”

“So that’s what happened…”

“Yeah.. I thought I’d be okay but it just hurts. And I’m tired of being alone…”

That was when you started sleeping with Billy.

It was a distraction. And it worked for a week, maybe two. When you woke up with Billy in your bed - on your side of course, you’d never let anyone else sleep on Matt’s side - you didn’t feel so empty. Until you realized you weren’t acknowledging it was Billy until you woke up fully. You went to bed and in those first few moments in the morning when you were still groggy and unsure, in your mind it was Matt.

The day you realized was the same night Foggy came over with something to say.

“It’s about time we finally talked.” You ushered him inside. “You’ve hardly said anything to me since you found out about Ex.”

“Can you blame me for needing some time?” He asked with a weak shrug.

“Couple days, sure. It’s been- What, almost two months?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come by sooner.”

You shrugged. “Why are you here now? Wanna hear my tragic backstory or rationale for being a murderer?”

“No one said you’re a murderer.” He sighed.

“Y’know, Karen once told me what you said to her. I think it was about Fisk… You said ‘You can’t just run around killing people and call yourself a human being.’ So what, Fog? Am I not a human being anymore?”

“Livia… I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Just say what you want.” You said flatly. “What did you come here to tell me?”

“That I’m worried about you.” He said softly. “I’ve never seen you shut down like this.”

“Yeah, well, Matt’s never died before. Has he?” You laughed bitterly. “Honestly, Foggy, I feel absolutely shitty every day that I wake up. I’ve never felt this horrible. I don’t even want to get up and go to work. I wake up and I remember that I was too weak to beat him. He kissed me and suddenly, that’s all I could think about. Next thing I realized, he uses my own discs against me and I’m being pulled to the elevator.”

“I will never understand what it feels like.” Foggy said softly, carefully stepping closer to you. “I wasn’t there. But Livia, shutting down isn’t gonna help you process this grief. You need us around.”

“I don’t know how to grieve!” You shouted suddenly. You caught the small movement out the corner of your eye and you quickly realized what it was. “Did you just flinch?”

Silence.

“Foggy.. Are you afraid of me?” You asked carefully.

He sighed instead of answering.

You swallowed the lump building in your throat and nodded slightly. “Yeah, of course you are.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He tried quickly. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“C’mon.” You scoffed. “It’s practically dripping off you.”

“I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” He insisted. “We’re just worried about you, Livvy. I know losing Matt was hard for you.”

“Of course it was. It hurt like nothing in the world. If anyone gets that, it should be you.”

“I do, but we don’t think that this is the best thing for you to be doing.”

“And what exactly do you think I’m doing?”

“C’mon.” He scoffed slightly but you stared expectantly instead of answering. “Billy Russo?”

“What does it matter who I sleep with? It’s not like I’m cheating on anyone.”

“So it doesn’t bother you to bring guys into Matt’s apartment?”

“My apartment.”

“Into Matt’s bed?”

“My bed.”

“Either way. Sleeping with your boss-“

“He’s not my boss anymore.” You cut in. “I’m leaving Anvil. I have to report to Quantico for training next week.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “Dex called a few days ago.”

“That’s great.” He gave a small smile. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“When was I supposed to?” You have a small shrug.

“Do you think this is gonna help you feel better?”

“I don’t want to feel better..” You shook your head and laughed bitterly as you spoke a truth you hadn’t even admitted to yourself . “Because no one is ever gonna love me like that again! I don’t want to get over it! I want to sit with him in bed and I know it’s really fucking selfish but I’m so fucking lost without him. Someone loved me, Foggy. Someone actually loved me and I loved him, too! And goddamnit, I was worth something to him!”

“That’s what this about?” He pressed. “You want someone to tell you you’re worth something?”

“I earned something with Matt. Despite every odd being against us and everything that tried to kill us, we made it because we fought for it.” You said as you stared at the countertop, a cold sadness creeping into your chest that you tried to push away. “He showed me that I had the right to die, right to live. Just a right to choose, yknow? Me and him, we were both a trainwreck but also somehow making it. And I would do it all again.”

“You guys had something special.” He nodded. “I’d never seen him as happy as he was when you were around.”

“All my miserable life, I loved someone I barely knew.. I remember figuring out he was Daredevil and I felt absolutely gutted. It was like… Who was he? How had I not known sooner?”

“None of us knew, Livia. He thought he was protecting us.”

“Yeah, you’re preaching to the choir here.” You rolled your eyes. “My point is that now he’s down there-“ You made a vague gesture towards Midland Circle. “-and I’m still here. What else am I supposed to do?”

“Not shut us out. Livia, we love you! We’re here for you but you won’t talk to us!”

“Cause I don’t want to feel better! What part of that isn’t getting through? I want to rip the skies apart and fight God! I want to make a deal with any religion that’ll bring him back!”

“I want him back, too.” He tried, stepping to the opposite side of the counter.

“But it wasn’t your fault, was it?”

“I’m the one who brought him the suit! I brought yours! It’s my fault just as much as yours!”

“The difference is that we were going in there whether you brought the suits or we had to get them ourselves! He’s dead because I couldn’t stop him!”

“No one blames you!”

“I do! I wake up every day and when I wake up without him, I know it was because I failed him. I loved him so goddamn much and…”

“Livvy...” He said softly, reaching for the hand closest to him. Looking down at your palms that rested on the countertop, you noticed they were shaking. “You don’t have to put yourself through this alone… We all get it.”

“Then why is everybody not angry? Crying out? Screaming and cursing and acknowledging he’s gone?” You looked up to meet his worried eyes. “Why is everybody so happy in the sun like nothing happened at all? Jessica. Luke. God, Luke. He could’ve tried to stay. You don’t think the unbreakable man wouldn’t have had better luck surviving a falling building than a blind man in a devil costume?!”

He didn’t have an answer.

“But the same goes for Danny. Or Claire. Nobody has talked about it. You wanna know who actually called? Colleen. And I hardly talked to her! Everyone else shrugged it off that Matt Murdock is dead. He died for this city that he loved so much and this city doesn’t even know it!”

“Me. You. Karen. We all have matching wounds from what happened.”

“Do we?” You laughed bitterly and stood tall, pulling your hand away. “Matching wounds? Cause it seems like mine is still black and bruised and hurting, but you guys are perfectly fine.”

“Y’know what.” He sighed and stood a step back with hands up in surrender. “If you don’t want us around, you want to do the same bullshit lone soldier routine Matt did, go ahead. But if you get yourself killed, that would be your fault.”

He left after that and slammed the door behind him.

You stood in the kitchen for a moment, quiet as you processed what happened. Then you screamed in frustration and slammed your hand against the countertop. You winced and peaked down to see the split skin at the base of your pinky’s knuckle where it hit the handle of the fork you had left out from the morning. You groaned in annoyance before rinsing it in the sink as three quick taps sounded on your door before it opened.

“Hey. Saw your friend in the hall.” He announced his arrival.

“Yeah..” You said absently.

“You alright? What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Livs.”

“It’s not your problem to worry about, Billy.” You sighed and lifted your eyes to look at him. “That’s not the kinda thing we have going here.”

He offered a slightly amused but challenging raise of his brows as he came around to your side of the counter. He put his hands on the counter on either side of your hips, caging you in as he leaned closer. You huffed quietly and hopped up to sit on the cool marble.

“Y’know you’re burning up?” He tried with a smirk.

“Yeah, tends to happen when I’m pissed off.”

“So what do you say…” His hands slid up the side of your legs and under your shirt, fingers dancing against your lower back. “… we burn off a little steam?”

The next day, you stared in your bathroom mirror after you woke up and left Billy in the bed. Your conversation with Foggy bounced around your skull all night but you kept coming back to one solid thing.

Everyone else was fine. They were done grieving and had accepted his death. You had to do the same.

You let your mind drift to Midland Circle, to the crushing memory of watching the collapsing building swallow the man you loved.

You watched the blue cloudiness fan across your eyes and you let yourself feel frozen until suddenly, your vision cleared and you felt nothing as you flicked away the single tear.

You weren’t happy. You weren’t sad. You weren’t grieving or angry or alone.

You were absolutely empty.

Maybe that’d be a better way to start this new chapter of your life. A few months away from the Kitchen, away from your grief and any sort of feeling might be what you need to find some semblance of who you used to be.

Or you’ll find someone new to be.

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princessfishy · 2 years ago

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A very very excited boy :3

Hes like a raccoon in the garage. Dirk is so fucking dumb but love him very much, had fun drawing him in his natural habitat uwu /this oc is my main oc and hes my fucking kid do not touch

this is the lil fag who snuggles up to Frank after kneecapping someone for jay walking

#marvel defenders #marvel oc #punisher oc #the punisher #daredevil #netflix punisher #netflix daredevil #mcu oc

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sobeautifullyobsessed · 1 year ago

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Share your newest OC and a few facts!

I'm excited to share about this OC, so thank you so much for the Ask @arrthurpendragon!

Contessa 'Tess' O'Neill

fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe/Doctor Strange

face claim: Liv Tyler

I originally created Tess as an RP character. Since then, she appeared in my fic, 'It's Not the Years Honey - It's the Mileage', a Doctor Strange one-shot. And I'm currently working on a Defender Strange one-shot where she'll make her second appearance.

mid-thirties, Bachelors Degree in Literature, published two minor poetry collections, worked as a freelance copy writer pre Blip

speaks fluent Italian, gift of her maternal grandmother who lived with her family

ended up in Kathmandu, Nepal, after months traveling Europe & Asia; her trip had been motivated by the death of her flight instructor husband on the day of Blip; taking such a trip had been on their bucket list

however, Tess had never planned to return to the United States

trigger warning below the cut...

trigger warning: attempted suicide stemming from depression; survived due to the timely intercession by a Nepalese street vendor who brought her to Kamar-Taj for medical treatment

during her recuperation, Tess found her spirit healed as well, witnessing the philosophy, tranquility, and unselfish purpose of the residents of Kamar-Taj

found her own new purpose as an initiate of the Mystic Arts, eventally becoming a Healer

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chifists · 2 years ago

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⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀ 「 IRON FIST 」

An Indie RP blog for Danny Rand, a.k.a. Iron Fist.

Set in Marvel's earth 616, but with own headcanons.

Slightly selective but OC/MV friendly.

(N)SFW, highly detailed, +21 mun.

Ships with Chemistry.

As portrayed by Laszlo!

Mun info+Rules can be found here.

Character basics can be found here.

#marvel rp #avengers rp #defenders rp #marvel roleplay #dc rp #dc roleplay #mcu rp #dceu rp #iron fist rp #oc rp #super hero rp

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jdlarts · 2 years ago

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A while ago myself and a few friends put a bunch of our marvel OCs on a team together and I had the inspiration last night to finally draw them. Sketched in 3 of 12. The Arachnid, Decibel, and Ether.

#art #current wip #marvel #marvel comics #original characters #ocs #marvel ocs #X-men #Avengers #guardians of the galaxy #nova corps #Defenders #Inhumans #clip studio paint #cosmic avengers

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nighttimewitchgirl · 7 months ago

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And even if she does, @nevaeh-daughterofvalcarol , you’ll have me to get through.

I won't kill you. Not yet you didn't give me any reason to.

@nevaeh-daughterofvalcarol

I know *actually hesitant, but just because she's used to threats being actual threats*

#sisters defend their sisters #no matter what #marvel #mcu #oc rp #mcu rp #marvel rp blog #karma #marvel rp #mcu roleplay #marvel mcu

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angstywaifu · 2 months ago

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Black Dahlia. 13 - I'll Make This Quick

Dahlia makes it to Threshing. But even with a dragon already laying some claim to her, she's going to have her work cut out for her.

Set Pre Fourth Wing/Books

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

TW: Character death.

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist

Threshing. The most important day of my time here. The one day where I would prove I was worthy of being a rider.

”No Dragon will ever bond you after what you’ve done.”

I shake my head to get his words out of my head. Words he’d uttered to me days after it had happened when I’d tried to speak to him. Tried to seek comfort from my own father. Only he wasn’t my father anymore. And I wasn’t his daughter. I was a disgrace. And now I would prove him wrong.

”Remember everything I’ve taught since you got here. But when it comes down to it, listen here,” Professor Kaori tells us as he taps his chest, something I can tell he’s done many times before. “If a dragon has already selected you as their rider, they will be calling to you.”

As if responding to my words, I feel a small tug pulling in my chest. Urging me forward towards the forest where we will look for our dragons. And I have no doubt that means a dragon has selected me as my own. I can’t help but think of the blue that had landed behind me in the clearing and burnt Eddie to a crisp. A dragon whose eye’s had plagued my dreams the last two nights.

”Make sure you pay attention to your surroundings, but also your feelings and go with them. And if those feelings tell you to go in the opposite direction…. Just listen to it.”

”Don’t have to tell me twice.” Bodhi mutters from next to me.

”Agreed. You feel anything yet?” I ask as I scan the first years standing around us, all looking extremely nervous.

”I think so. It’s faint, but I’m pretty sure it’s the feeling he’s talking about.” He says before turning to look at me. “I’d ask you, but I have a feeling you are after the other day.”

We’d barely talked since presentation day. Mostly keeping to myself after I’d bolted from the clearing. News had spread fast of what had happened in the clearing. Of the dragon that had flown in and defended me as soon as Eddie had laid his hands on me. And to top it off, Kaori had told us no blue’s were willing to bond this year. Since then I had felt everyone’s eyes on me, their whispers following me down the halls. I was the talk of the Quadrant again. And something told me word would have definitely gotten back to my father. My father who would be waiting in the flight field to see if I’d bonded a dragon. As if sensing my thoughts, a familiar pair of brown eyes turn and meet mine. Dain had tried to find me yesterday, but I’d managed to avoid him as well. But I couldn’t avoid him forever, and I knew he would have some choice words if he realised who that dragon was.

I turn and nod to Bodhi. “Yeah, I feel it. As if I’m connected to one by an invisible thread its tugging on.”

”Lucky, I can’t feel a thing.” Liz says nervously as she fiddles with her fingers.

”You will. Don’t worry.” I tell her as she smiles up at me.

In the distance, the faint sounds of the clock tower signalling the time can be heard in the distance, followed by a chorus of roars and beating wings. Above us dragons soar into view, all heading for the forest we stand in front of. All of us staring up at the sky in awe as they fly in. For many, this is the first time they’ve seen this many dragons flying in a formation. And even though it’s a sight I’ve seen many times in my life, I can’t help but marvel at the sight. Austin nudges my arm, her hand raised and pointing to my left. Soon the other cadets are pointing and looking at it. Only my squad had seen the blue dragon that day. And now that it was here, flying into the forest, everyone knew what had happened was true. Even Kaori is staring up at it in shock. The tug in my chest feels stronger now, as if pulling me upwards. There was no denying which dragon I needed to find today.

”Well, here goes nothing.” Bodhi mutters as the dragons descend into the forest.

Hours have passed, the sun above my head indicating it was around midday. The tug in my chest pulling me further and further into the forest. One thing was for certain, this dragon was making me work for it. Despite being one of the only ones to have that feeling in my chest before today started, I was not the first to bond a dragon. I’d seen countless dragons take off into the air with a cadet, now a rider, on their back.

So far I had seen a few brown dragons, a green I nearly didn’t see due to its colouring and a few reds. I nearly thought I was gone when I’d crossed one of them. The red swordtail had walked over to me, its hot breath fanning over me as it had inspected me. But after a minute it had lost interest in me and moved on.

After another hour or so I’m still dragon less. But the pull in my chest was far stronger than it had been before. My chest feeling tight and restricted with every step I take. I had to be close. A loud snap echoes through the trees from my right, and I whirl to see another cadet move into the clearing. My heart drops as I take in who it is. It’s one of Eddie’s friends. I didn’t know his name, but I had heard the lie he had tried to spin around what had happened on Presentation Day. About how I had pushed Eddie into the path of the dragon fire, how the dragon had been aiming for me.

”Was hoping I’d run into you,” He drawls as he removes the sword from his back.

I stretch my arms out wide, “Well here I am.” I watch as he snarls at me, sensing the mocking tone in my voice.

”Yes, here you are. But you’re not what I’m looking for,” He drawls as he stalks towards me.

The dragon. He wants the dragon that had landed in the clearing on Presentation Day. Something told me a lot of cadets did. He was definitely the biggest dragon willing to bond in our year. And something told me he would be one of the biggest in the Quadrant to.

”Though in a way you are, because you will lead me to that dragon, and then your death will get me that dragon.”

I can’t help but laugh at his words as we start to circle each other, reaching behind me to pull the sword I’d strapped to my back this morning. I’d decided against the staff I had frequented during my time here so far, despite it giving me my first patch and the first weapons patch of my year. Today I had opted for some far sharper weapons, knowing all of us were out for blood today.

”You seem to have forgotten what happened to the last person that laid a hand on me around that dragon, might want to rethink your idea,” I throw back at him.

He face contorts with anger, his grip tightening on his sword as he picks up his pace. “Oh trust me, I haven’t forgotten Aetos. But I’ll make this quick, I promise.”

He lunges forward, thrusting his sword towards me in a sloppy attempt to run me through. I easily deflect his blow with my own sword, the metal ringing in the silence that follows. He clearly had experience with a sword, but it was clear he relied on his brute strength to wield it. Clearly not having the patience to perfect his form or footwork. I wouldn’t be surprised if he came from a family of infantry, most of them rushing into their training without taking the care to learn the basics properly. Which would be his downfall.

I’d spent nearly my entire life training, learning the basics before moving to the more technical skills. I knew how to read my opponents, knew how to predict how they would move. Which is how I know he was going to lash out at me. As if on queue he yells, swinging his sword wildly at me in hopes it would meet his mark. But I deflect every single blow. We dance around each other, well I do, he just flails around me in an effort to keep up with me as I back us towards the edge of the clearing. I watch as the panic sets in as he realises he clearly under estimated my abilities. Another reason I’d mostly kept to the staff during challenges.

Most people under estimated those who could wield a staff as it didn’t take a lot of strength to wield it. And right now it was paying off. Little did he know, but I had been trained in nearly every weapon available to us. Was I good at all of them? Hell no. But I knew enough to wield most of them confidently, or at least know how to handle myself against them. Just like Tavis, I was about to prove him wrong.

He realises he needs to do something drastic if he stands a chance of walking out of here alive or unscathed. He lunges forward, manging to make me stumble back as he flicks his sword around, the pommel hitting me perfectly in the nose, the crack reverberating through my skull as blood gushes down my face. I quickly pivot away knowing he will try to use my disorientation to his advantage. I feel the rush of wind as his sword swings where I had been moments earlier. I open my eyes to see him lose his footing, stumbling to the side as he tries to right himself.

I quickly rush forward, holding the hilt of my sword close to my side as I wait for the right moment. Which comes moments later as he turns back to me as he rights him self. My hand finding purpose on his shoulder as I step forward and look up at him. His eyes go wide, his mouth dropping open as I meet my mark. I feel the warm liquid trickle onto my hand as he gasps for air in front of me, his hands rushing to apply pressure to the wound as I slowly push him away from me. He stumbles back, falling to his knees, blood already pooling in his mouth from where I’ve pierced his lung as he stares up at me.

The sound of beating wings fills the clearing, before the ground rumbles beneath us as it lands. I don’t have to turn to know what’s behind me. The feeling in my chest wanting to tug me backwards as the ground rumbles with every step he takes. I watch as his eyes go wide, catching the faintest glimmer of blue in them as the sun breaks through the clouds. I feel the new presence make its way into my mind like I’m greeting an old friend. Like they were always meant to be there. As if they were completing me. Which they we’re. I’d never felt more complete in my life as I did right now.

”I’ll make this quick. I promise,” I utter as I sheathe the sword back onto my back.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, hot air rushes over my head, the familiar glint of orange flickering in his eyes before he’s engulfed in flames.

”Quick enough for you little flower?”

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness

#fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing #garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis imagine #the fourth wing #the empyrean #garrick tavis x oc #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing imagine #black dahlia #dain aetos #xaden riorson #bodhi durran

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averagewriter-inthedark · 5 months ago

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It’s Been A Long, Long Time 🥀 P.2 | Fallout AU

Masterlists | Part 1

Characters & Pairings: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x super soldier!reader (eventual romance), reader x male!oc (past romance), reader x Chester Phillips (past romance), Lucy Maclean (platonic)

Content warnings: Fallout x Marvel AU, profanity, major angst, fighting mentions of death, violence, war, age gap (reader is physically in her 40s, Cooper in his 50s, but they are both hundreds of years old), detailed description of a panic attack, cannon divergence, suggestive themes, strangers/enemies-to-friends-to-lovers | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 6.7k

Premise: Having stumbled into an abandoned bunker that belonged to an agency dating back to the Second World War, Cooper and Lucy find themselves face-to-face with a woman of historical significance after accidently defrosting her cryogenic state. And when the horrifying truth is revealed, Cooper and Lucy rely on their expertise to combat a super soldier from killing them before the day is over.

Note: yeah this was intense and just full of angst I'm sorry, I promise in the next one there will be fluff!

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

“Who the hell are you people?”

What exactly does one do when faced with a 345-year-old super soldier from World War II awakens from their frozen slumber. Face the truth? Or make a run for it? Honestly the pair were not sure.

It was as if they were in the arctic circle with how the temperature dropped to below zero at that very moment. The silence so thick a knife could cut through. Suffocating to the point Lucy swallowed her saliva quite loudly just to break it. Her stance frozen under the now conscious super soldier’s gaze. A scrutinizing one enough to have even the strongest men running for the hills.

Cooper had yet to rise from the chair, keeping a steady hand over his pistol while his back remained towards their guest. Although he felt her eyes on the back of his head, penetrating his skull.

“Do not make me ask again,” Behind her strong Trans-Atlantic accent--sounding the exact same as it did on the tapes--Y/n’s tone was a mix of fear and anger. Lucy felt the chills run down her spine. “Who. Are. You?”

Lucy peered to Cooper, whose expression read, ‘answer her’. Clearing her throat, Lucy attempted to introduce herself but it all came out as a stutter. “Uhh-um, hello!” she winced, noticing Y/n take a more defensive stance, eyeing her appearance. “My name is Lucy--Lucy MacLean. And this is my….associate, Cooper Howard,” her hand lifted up, gesturing to Cooper who gave her an annoyed look, Y/n watching each move intently. She had yet to see the cowboy’s face. “We’re so sorry for waking you up! We came across this bunker and--.”

“MacLean,” Cooper warned, shutting Lucy up. The girl put her hand down and bit her lip, “Um, we are….we--.” This time Y/n cut her off.

“Where’s Peggy?” Her eyes searched the room, face paling as it hit her where she was. “And Chester? Howard….I need--I need to find them. I need to warn them!” She made a move to run and that’s when Cooper rose from his chair, pistol in hand and spinning to face the super soldier for the first time.

It was like Y/n had stepped out of the TV. Donned in her black suit, the image of an eagle splayed across her chest. Shiny plates of metal on her arms that reflected light. Tactical boots and artillery belt, though she lacked any weapons. Whoever placed her in the pod must’ve stripped her of any means to defend herself if she woke.

Like she’d really need a gun or knife. Her best weapon was the serum coursing through her veins.

And unfortunately, Cooper was about to experience that.

The second their eyes met Y/n’s reaction was full of horror. But not for the reason Cooper believed, no. Poor Cooper was being mistaken for an old enemy, which unlucky for him, he resembled quite closely. Except he lacked the color red.

In a flash the desk was lifted off the ground, flinging in Cooper’s direction causing him to duck and cover while it met the chair. Lucy shrieked, hand cupping her mouth as the loud sound echoed off the walls. Y/n made a break for it then, running while Cooper hauled himself up to follow.

“Cooper, wait--!”

As he entered the long and dim hallway Cooper raced toward the end where the main lobby was. He hadn’t heard the elevator shaft open, nor the echoing sound of it ascending to the surface, prompting the cowboy to draw his pistol. Coming to a halt, Cooper shifted his approach by deciding to slowly inch his way to the lobby. Believing Y/n lying in wait for another attack. So each time he got to a room Cooper staked it out. Clearing it before moving to the next.

Lucy struggled to keep her cool, breathing heavily as she trailed closely behind Cooper. Aiming her tranquilizer gun in hopes of immobilizing Y/n but worried it’d do nothing like it did the Ghoul. Maybe it’ll at least slow her down. Giving them the chance to explain so she won’t kill them.

As each room cleared Cooper’s grip tightened. Betting Y/n was waiting for him in the lobby. And right he was.

The second his body was in view, Y/n shot out from the side giving no time for Cooper to react. Gun kicked from his hand, Cooper grunted as he was pushed into the wall, a crack in the drywall from the impact. Shoving Y/n off rather harshly, she stumbled back but recovered in time to dodge Cooper’s fist. Shooting her hand out to grab and redirect his arm, maneuvering her body behind his to kick the back of his knees and bring him to the floor.

‘Damn that super soldier serum was no joke,’ Coop couldn’t help but think. Arm raising to dodge another attack before extending his foot to kick Y/n in the gut.

“Please, if we can just explain!” Lucy shouted, pointing her gun frantically to get a clear shot, but struggled with how fast they were moving. Not wanting to accidentally hit Cooper and waste the drugs. “We only want to help you!”

They fought for what felt like hours but really it was less than five minutes. The adrenaline high, both soldiers feeding off each other. Cooper’s hat flying off, Y/n’s styled hair losing its curl. Creating a wild mane around her shoulders. Lucy was almost mesmerized. Their moves are sharp and quick, inflicting damage on the other and not holding back. Y/n was fast, giving Cooper no time to breathe as she laid punch after punch and kicks. Cooper was more robust, attempting to slow her down by constantly throwing her into a wall or onto furniture. They were in a deadly dance, two former soldiers

Lucy’s jaw dropped as Cooper was brought to the floor when Y/n attacked him from behind, hooking her legs over his head and switching her upper body from under his right side to his left side in which she unhooked her legs and flipped him onto his back. So fast it competed with the speed of light. “Holy moly!”

“Fuck,” Cooper coughed, wide-eyed as he looked up to Y/n barely breaking a sweat. A chill down his spine by the fury behind her gaze. He recognized it, recalling the time he fought the Reds in Alaska. She no longer was a woman in front of him, but a soldier.

He braced himself for her next attack, but before she could unleash it the soldier let out an ‘ah!’, glancing over to find a tranq lodged into her shoulder blade.

“Clever girl,” Y/n yanked it out, but the damage was done. The vial emptied the drug into her bloodstream, already beginning to take effect. Y/n stumbled, leaning onto the wall closest to her for support. “Hate to tell you though, that won’t knock me out.” her words slurred, making her appear in a drunken state.

Cooper sat up, catching his breath as he eyed her, “But it’ll sure as hell slow ya down.” Grunting, he brought himself to his knees, using the broken desk to lift the rest of his body up. He was sore, and in desperate need of a drink. Limping to recover his hat and gun, keeping the weapon in his hand. Although he knew he wouldn’t need to use it. Y/n was incapacitated, wobbling with each step and having to hold onto the wall or filing cabinet to keep steady.

“You….” she slurred, eyes dazy as she squinted at Cooper. “The Red….Skull.”

“I beg yer’ pardon?” he exhaled, staring back with confusion. Did she just call him the Red Skull? He picked at his brain for any recollection of that name. Siphoning through his days in basic and the countless files they racked through. “I have no idea who you’re talkin’ bout.”

“I do!” Lucy shouted, stepping closer to the two who were now several feet apart instead of lollygagging by the entrance of the hall. “I saw the file earlier--the Red Skull, you say?” Y/n nodded, willing herself to find the strength and hope the serum was close to wearing off the drug. “The Red Skull was the leader of Hydra. Who you fought against in the war, correct.” Again she nodded and Lucy realized what the soldier was likely thinking. Letting out a gasp as she raced to where she had discarded the file and opened it to reveal the picture of the man in question.

Removing it from the paper clip, Lucy held it up, “This man,” she pointed with her free hand first, then to Cooper, “this is who you think he is.” Based on the photo, Lucy understood why the soldier mistook the man as the one she once spent years fighting. The most striking detail being they both had withered skin and lacked a nose. Lucy remembered in her history books the Red Skull got his name due to his blood red complexion. A result of injecting himself with the first attempt at the super soldier serum, unaware of what effects it would have.

But the Red Skull vanished the same day as Steve Rogers. No records indicating where he went. Decades without any new leads and so Shield labeled him to be dead or in hiding.

The way Y/n’s eyes darted from the photo to Cooper confirmed Lucy’s suspicions. Along with how her face shifted to disdain and then to confusion. Like she too was starting to question her judgment.

Lucy passed the photo to Cooper, then lifted her hand to Y/n to show she meant no harm. “He’s not the Red Skull,” her voice was gentle, like when one speaks to a child, but also guarded. “I swear to you, Dr. Andrews, this man is not who you think he is. Yes, they look alike--which is an unfortunate coincidence,” Lucy nervously chuckled, aware of Cooper’s glare, “but I can assure you he is not him.”

Y/n didn’t look convinced. “If he’s not the Red Skull, then why--why does he look like him? What is he?”

Lucy shifted her stance, scratching the back of her neck and giving Cooper an apologetic look. “He’s what you would call a ghoul.”

“A ghoul,” the word was foreign to the soldier, prompting her to ask, “What the hell is a ghoul.” This time Cooper was the one to answer.

“I’m your future, Birdie,” the nickname was obviously in reference to her superhero alias, the Eagle. “Once you track that wasteland full of radiation you know so much about, you’ll be just like me if you give it time.”

Y/n’s blood froze, a horrible feeling igniting in her stomach, “What are you talking about?” Wasteland? Radiation? Immediately her mind went to what America was dealing with their former ally turned opponent.

The Arms Race, did it happen? How much did she miss? Oh God, her family…..

Lucy’s face fell, “Ma’am, there’s something you need to know--.”

“Vaultie….”

“You’re the one who said something!” she pointed out, causing him to roll his eyes. “We need to tell her, Cooper, it’s the right thing to do!” she defended, pleading with him as she gestured to Y/n’s state. “We can’t just leave her here, and if she goes to the surface she’ll be clueless.”

“It’s not our problem, MacLean,” his words were sharp. Holstering the pistol before adjusting his duster, ignoring Lucy’s appalled expression. “Better we leave her here and figure it out for herself. Not like she can help us with where wer’ goin’.”

Scoffing, Lucy narrowed her eyes. Disgusted with his apathy and lack of consideration for Y/n’s situation. “Put yourself in her shoes, Cooper. Also in case you forgot, we woke her up. We can at least give her the respect she deserves, by telling her what happened.” Before he could reply, Y/n beat him to it.

“What do you…you mean--what happened?” her tone was still jumbled, jaw tightened and gripping the edge of the desk like her life depended on it. After what Cooper said and Lucy’s implication, Y/n feared the worst. She was slowly coming to, blurred vision starting to clear. “Where’s Chester…take me to him, now!”

Cooper glanced at Lucy, begging him with her eyes, and he let out a gumbled sigh. Pushing a chair, not destroyed in their tossle, in Y/n’s direction, “Better for ya to take a seat, Birdie.” A moment passed, Y/n eyeing the chair before yanking it back and falling into it.

“Start talking. I won’t ask a second time. Whatever drug you stunned me with won’t last long and I demand to know what’s going on.”

Clicking his tongue against his teeth, Cooper turned to Lucy, “Well, valutie, you wanna do the honors. Or have me rip the band-aid off--and It won’t be gentle I can tell ya that.”

Biting her lip, Lucy felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she gathered her words. “Ma’am, Dr. Andrews,” she corrected, nodding her head in respect. “What is the last thing you remember?” Upon Cooper’s reaction to the question, Lucy panned him a look reading, ‘Trust me.’

Y/n’s eyebrows narrowed, blinking twice before answering, “I was in the computer room. Trying to find evidence that Zola--.” She cut herself off, swallowing. Remembering these were strangers and were working for God knows who. “I won’t say another word until I know who exactly you two are. Or you tell me where Peggy and Chester are!!”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Cooper tipped his hat up, ignoring Lucy’s warning.

“Cooper, please--.”

“Look, there’s no easy way of sayin’ it and frankly we don’t got the fuckin’ time to waste. So I’ll keep it simple by asking you this instead; What year do you think it is, Doctor?”

“1951,” there was no hesitation. Spoken with confidence.

Lucy let out a choked sound, and Cooper rubbed his jaw. Preparing himself to give the harsh truth, and worried of what outcome laid ahead. Meanwhile Y/n took in their reactions, causing anxiety to rise as she began to feel the air shift. Something wasn’t right, her intuition screamed at her.

“What?” she demanded. “How long--how long was I out?”

Cooper dropped his head, unable to meet her eyes, “Y/n, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” bad was putting it lightly, “but you’ve been asleep for 345 years.”

The only noise that followed the revelation was Y/n’s sharp inhale. Like all the air had been sucked out of her, and she was now drowning by the way her lungs tightened. Throat closing, head spinning as it processed what Cooper said.

345 years….

A piercing sound filled her ears, while any other noise turned muffled. “What?” Voice cracking, Y/n shook her head in denial. Refusing to accept it. “No. No, you’re lying to me. You--you’re Hydra and trying to manipulate me.”

“We’re not Hydra, Y/n,” Cooper’s gentle tone shocked even him. But he couldn’t help it for he felt sorry for the woman. Not wanting to imagine what was running through her head.

Her denial turned to anger, “I don’t believe you! It can’t be--I couldn’t have been asleep for three centuries,” her voice cracked again, the emotion billing up in her throat. “That is not possible!” She stood up hastily, but the drugs had yet to wear off and so she lost her balance, the room spinning and fell back into the chair with a grunt.

Lucy made a move to help her but was stopped by Cooper. Pushing her to the side while he approached Y/n, kneeling so he was level. “I know this is hard, and I reckon you gonna be angry for God knows how long,” he leaned closer to her, noting how white her knuckles were from gripping the armrest.

“Stop it--.”

“But it’s the cold, hard truth.”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

“It’s 2296!” He stunned her into silence, another choked gasp leaving her. Y/n’s mouth agape, staring at him with devastation, and Cooper let out a tired sigh. “Whoever put ya in that pod is long gone. The people you’re asking for,” he referred to Peggy, Howard, and Chester, “ther’ long gone too. Everyone you know has been dead for centuries, Y/n,” a pained whimper escaped, the soldier starting to break. Cooper went on, voice lowering, “You’ve awoken to a whole new world, Doc. One you ain’t gonna fuckin’ like at all, but it’s ya new reality. 1951,” he paused before giving the final blow, “was a lifetime ago.”

Y/n’s bottom lip quivered, water filling her vision as she fought to keep the tears at bay while the words sank in. She’d always been good at reading people. Picking up body language and cues to tell when one’s lying. But mostly, she could tell in their eyes. For the eyes were the window into one’s soul.

And right now, the little voice in the back of her head knew he was telling the truth. Still, she shook her head and held on to the small ounce of hope. Her heart barely held on by a thread. “No,” her tone was now pleading, and it actually made Cooper’s heart break just a bit. Seeing the strong woman who fought against Nazis and stood before politicians reduced to a fragile state. “I don’t--I need proof.” Actually having proof would confirm her worst fear, but what good was it to remain in denial. “Prove to me what you say is true!”

Cooper peered up at Lucy, who appeared apprehensive, likely knowing what he was about to suggest. He only gave her a stern look, “You know it’s the only option.”

“But--.”

“There’s nothin’ in this Goddamn bunker that can help prove to our new friend here--,” That was a far reach to call Y/n a friend. She’ll view them as anything but once they take her outside. “That the last 350 years have come and gone.” Y/n looked like she wanted to kill him, not liking the way he spoke of her unfortunate fate. “We take her to the surface, so she can see for herself.”

Cooper stood up straight, extending his hand to the soldier who eyed it wearily before accepting it, letting him pull off the chair. She maintained her balance this time, the room not spinning as much but senses still disoriented. Only this time it wasn’t the drugs but the overwhelming anxiety consuming her. She let him lead her to the elevator shaft, opening the gate and stepping in. Y/n second and Lucy third.

The journey up Y/n wanted to vomit, hands beginning to shake. Mind going a million miles per second. Unable to think of a single thing, so she distracted herself from the inevitable by assessing Lucy’s attire.

“What’s with the suit?”

“Huh?” Lucy turned with surprise.

Y/n gave her a once over, taking in the stained blue and yellow suit that appeared like it was made of rubber or leather. Kind of like her own tactical suit. “Your suit? What’s the meaning of it?”

Lucy’s mouth formed in an ‘o’ shape, “Oh! Uh, it’s my vault suit. We were obligated to wear them in the vaults--or fallout shelters if you wanna be technical.”

“Fallout shelters,” Y/n wondered aloud. “I don’t understand.”

“The um,” Lucy awkwardly cleared her throat, not sure how to say the next speck of reality Y/n had to face. She looked to Cooper for help but his attention was on the gate. She gulped, “The vaults are underground shelters, built to withstand a nuclear attack on the surface. When the bombs dropped those who had a place in the vaults continued life underground, while those on the surface were left for themselves.”

Once again, the world around her stilled.

“The bombs?” Y/n paled, stomach churning once more. Before she could ask further, the elevator shook as it reached the top. Y/n’s hand reached for Cooper’s shoulder to steady herself, quickly removing it once she did. Not meeting his gaze when she caught him staring at her from her peripheral.

Hand on the latch, Cooper glanced over his shoulder at Y/n, his expression dour, “Now, before I open this, I need yer’ word you ain’t gonna do anything rash. ‘Cause if ya do,” he pulled his duster aside to reveal his pistol, “I won’t fuckin’ hesitate this time. Understood?”

She held back the urge to say something cutting. Not one to take orders from a stranger, but he had the advantage. Plus Y/n was already fighting back a panic attack, dread rising from her stomach to her chest until it lodged in her throat. Heartbeat picking up.

“I-I won’t,” she promised, face tightening to the point it hurt. “You have my word.”

Exhaling, Cooper bidded Lucy a warning look until he finally yanked the gate wide open. Sunlight filled the space, the bright light causing Y/n to snap her eyes shut. Raising a hand, she slowly stepped forward, feeling Cooper reach for her forearm to guide her off the shaft. Sand crunched beneath her boots. Sending Y/n’s heart into racing mode as she began to open her eyes, shielding them with her hand until they got used to the blinding light.

When her vision focused, a wretched sound escaped her mouth, hand falling to cover it as she took in the sight before her. Instead of paved roads she was met with dry, sandy hills. Remnants of buildings she once worked. Destroyed and reduced to ash. Only their iron skeletons remained. Billboards she didn’t recognize, one reading Nuka-Cola and another prompting a company called Vault-Tec. That must’ve been linked to what Lucy was talking about.

Y/n’s hands went to her stomach, fighting to stay upright as she let out choked breaths. “Oh--Oh God,” she croaked, the truth finally hitting her. She hadn’t accepted it in the bunker, but seeing it firsthand brought a whole new level of anguish Y/n hadn’t experienced since her husband died. Even when Steve got lost in the Atlantic Y/n grieved, but not to the point she felt like she’d actually die.

This, however, had the potential to kill her.

Pins and needles pricked her hands, and sweat beaded on her hairline. Y/n’s throat tightening, chest pounding so hard it hurt. Then her whole body began to shake. The churning in her stomach finally snapping, migrating up until it released causing Y/n to hunch forward. Lucy grimaced from the side watching Y/n puke her guts out. Meanwhile Cooper only kept his head down, hands perched on his hips as he listened to the sounds Y/n’s emitted slowly turn into full blown sobs.

Lucy felt her own tears form, the scene too emotional to bear. Y/n sounded like she was being tortured. Her cries so loud they echoed against the silent wasteland. “No,” she wailed, “No, no, no!!” Knees falling to the sand, Y/n curled herself into the sand. Not caring that it got in her face and hair. Her sobs were pretty much screams of agony, the tears flowing like waterfalls down her cheeks.

“My babies,” Cooper heard, resulting in him glancing up at the sky, willing himself to hold it together. If there was one thing the cowboy could relate to Y/n now more than ever, was the feeling of a parent losing their child. Children, in her case. “No, my babies,” she broke again, as another excruciating scream tore through her. At that point Lucy couldn’t even contain her own emotion. Tears leaking from her eyes she furiously wiped away, wincing as Y/n screams became choking sounds, head lifting to the sky.

They were gone. Her children were dead, and had been for centuries. Beatrice, Henry, and Charlene. Little Charley wasn’t even two. Henry twelve and Beatrice 16. They’d already lost one parent in the war. And not even ten years later they’d lose the other. With no knowledge of what happened to her.

Y/n’s mind went to the worst possible thought. That her children believed she abandoned them. Just thinking it sent her into another episode of despair. Who knows what Zola told them. She thought of Chester, Peggy, and Howard. The three people she trusted most in life, behind her husband and Steve. Y/n had to believe they would not rest until they found her. Chester especially. After all they shared a daughter, who was his world. As a man of honor and for the sake of Charley, he would never give up on Y/n. Howard was her cousin, and Peggy her best friend. They would know something was suspicious about her disappearance. Considering it happened not long after the Congressional hearing.

But still, the nightmare plagued her. Ripping apart her soul until there was nothing left. The numbness got stronger and Y/n began to hyperventilate. Throat opening and closing to the point she struggled to breathe. “I-I can’t--,” she stuttered, hand going to her chest, where she felt her heart begging to explode, “breathe. I can’t-can’t breathe.” Gasping, Y/n felt her eyes bulging, neck veins protruding.

Cooper became concerned, hearing the woman choke on nothing but air and found himself moving toward her. “Hey now,” he crouched, gently placing his hands on her shoulder only to jump back as she began to thrash. Then it hit him what was happening, “Y/n, you’re having a panic attack. Ya need to breathe, woman, breathe.” She was fighting against his hold, which turned to him wrapping his arms around her, pressing her back against his chest as he fell knees first into the sand. Part of him thought she was gonna die right there. “Dammit, Y/n, ya gonna run yaself to a heart attack. Breathe! Dammit!” He tightened his hold, shaking her rather harshly but it was just what she needed to stop fighting him. “Ther’ we go,” he eased, leaning back on his knees to semi-pull her into his lap.

It took a good minute, but Y/n soon felt the tremors cease. Heart still pounding but the ringing in her ears stopped. Clutching onto his arms, Y/n’s shoulders shook as the tears returned. Muffling the sound of her sobs by tucking her face into the crook of her elbow. Falling to defeat for the first time in her life.

“My kids are dead,” she broke, shaking her head as her voice became barely a whisper. “My babies are dead.” Cooper stayed silent, allowing the woman to cry her heart out. For she was feeling the worst pain imaginable for a parent. Giving her the comfort he desperately needed when he lost Janey.

For Y/n, she mourned not only her children and the people she loved, but the life taken from her. When Zola placed her in that pod he froze not only her body but her future as well. 345 years, gone in the blink of an eye. Falling asleep at the beginning of the 5th decade of the 20th century. Waking near the end of the 9th in the 23rd.

The America she left behind was history. Now, the soldier had to face the greatest battlefield known to man.

The Wasteland.

In the first two weeks of Y/n’s travels with the bounty hunter and former vault dweller, she learned the dark truth behind the Great War as they dubbed it. After they raided the Shield bunker once Y/n managed to calm down, she led them to a hidden vault within an office wall where she knew weapons and emergency supplies were kept. Using her Shield ID code, which by the grace of God somehow worked.

Cooper about had a field day. Equipping himself with ammunition and guns. Lucy took claim to whatever she could fill her pack with and Y/n stocked up her suit. Knives, guns, magazines. She found a backpack and packed it to the brim. When she finished she was no longer Dr. Y/n Andrews.

She was the Eagle.

When neither of her new companions were looking, Y/n slipped into Zola’s office and stole the files on her and her friends. On her way out she stopped by the tv, noticing the box of video tapes beside it. Picking one up, her heart dropped at the label ‘House Committee Hearing ‘50.’ Squeezing her eyes shut, Y/n held herself together. And as the sound of spurs filled her ears, indicating Cooper entered the room, Y/n let out a stained sigh, “I take it you two watched these?”

He didn’t lie to her, “Yeah. We got about six in…including the one yer holdin’.” She dropped it back into the box, not saying another word as she pushed past Cooper to find Lucy. Once they were all ready, they headed back to the surface and set forth to their next target.

Then came the history lesson when Y/n asked where they were going. The rise of Vault-Tec, the bombs dropping, and how both Lucy’s father and Cooper’s ex-wife were part of it. Y/n looked at Cooper aghast when that detail was revealed, wondering how the hell the math added up. Thankfully they explained, although Cooper was more vague with his description much to her annoyance.

Lucy was the talker of the two. Happy to answer Y/n’s questions and provide clarification. As she relayed the events of the Great War and Vault-Tec’s corrupt ambitions, Y/n had to contain her reaction. Wanting to scream until her voice gave out. Shoot something until she ran out of bullets.

How could this happen? How could a company grow so powerful it managed to overtake the government. Gaining enough power to unleash a nuclear event.

So when they sat by the fire and Lucy gained the courage to ask, “What was it like?” Y/n felt that box opening. Confronting the past which was centuries worth of history but had occurred only recently for her.

“You mean the war? Or life in general?” She answered with her own question, noticing the way Cooper shifted, his eyes peering from beneath his hat.

“Everything.”

Y/n glanced at Lucy from the side, not moving her body, “I thought you both read my file. And watched the tapes I recorded.”

“We did,” Lucy admitted, offering a nervous smile, “But reading about history is vastly different than when you hear it first hand from someone who lived through it. When I taught the kids in my vault they always preferred watching the holotapes rather than the books that’d been preserved. And so much from the 20th century had been lost….” Pausing at Cooper’s warning look, Lucy began to ramble, “I-I mean I only ask if you’re comfortable with talking about it. Sorry I should’ve been more considerate--I know it’s a sensitive topic with-- I-I mean you just woke up not even two weeks ago to find 345 years have passed--and America is not how you left it. Oh God I’m being really insensitive--I am so sorry,” Lucy’s mouth snaps as the woman cuts her off with a tired sigh.

“You don’t have to apologize for being curious, Lucy,” Y/n ran her hands through her hair, dropping her head for a moment before cranking it. “But I should warn you if someone hasn’t yet, curiosity can be a dangerous thing.” The wastelanders knew exactly what she referred to.

Her curiosity ended with her frozen in a pod for 345 years.

Removing a cigarette from her tin holder, Y/n used the flames of the fire to light it, taking a deep drag before speaking. “Lucy, you have to understand, I was born at a time when women didn’t even have the right to vote. And once we did there was still a lot of work to be done to even the playing field. I worked hard to secure my education, and it was not without difficulty--especially when the support from family and the system was limited.”

Y/n went on about her life. About what inspired her to study radiation physics. How she met her husband, and her research with Project Rebirth. The SSR, and the war. She kept out some details, obviously, especially the more personal ones about her family. Both were aware she wasn’t ready to speak of her children. Or whatever relationship she had with her colleague, Chester Phillips.

When she finished Lucy asked the number one question, “How’d you become a super soldier?” Cooper was also interested in the answer, sitting up against his log. Lucy followed it with, “In the tape we watched, you told Congress all the serum was destroyed.”

Y/n stared deeply into the fire, letting the silence pass as the memory resurfaced. “After the first year we were at a disadvantage. I….before the demonstration Erskine left me a package. He warned me of his concerns that morning that something might happen. He told me to hide it, and that it was only to be opened as a last resort.” Her shoulders shrugged, then confirmed their suspicions, “I knew right then and there a vial of the serum was in the package. And I knew if the government found out, there’d be a bidding war for control. Then when the Hydra spy killed Erskine, I made sure to do everything to prevent them from getting the serum.”

Lucy leaned forward, “That night you told Congress you guys were talking strategy…”

“Was the night we used the serum on me,” Y/n finished the sentence. A sad smile formed on her lips. “We had to. It was our last resort. We went back and forth on who should take it and in the end they all voted I was the best choice. My role in creating it, my expertise in the field. I was already involved in operations with Steve,” Y/n drawled on, “They’d already dubbed me the Eagle in the papers after Steve and I crossed into enemy territory to rescue that unit. They saw it fitting.”

Another pause, Y/n lighting another cigarette, “I honestly didn’t want to--I kept thinking of the consequences if word got out. But I trusted our team, and they trusted me. They had faith when I had fear.” Letting the smoke blow out, Y/n finished her monologue with, “Like an eagle learning to fly.”

Lucy was in awe, but felt an immense amount of sympathy for the woman. She admired her strength, her resilience, her drive to fight for what is right. Lucy related to that.

“Do you regret it?” she softly asked, “taking the serum?” the question hung in the air. Allowing Y/n to really think although she already knew the answer.

“I don’t regret anything in my life,” she delivered the truth, not meeting the girl’s eyes. “If I did, I wouldn’t be true to myself.”

“You know,” Cooper drawled after a minute, gaining her attention, “them history books used to call y’all the ‘Greatest Generation’,” dramatic flair in his tone as he said the phrase. “Givin’ all the shit you folks had to go through. The damn depression and wars. Not to mention y’all were the fuckin’ original Arms Race.” His laugh was dry, “Ironic don’t ya think.”

“Well, forgive me if I sound ungrateful,” Y/n chuckled without any humor. The sound is full of sorrow and a lick of resentment, “but I don’t feel great. Nor deserving of such a label. Seeing as how the world ended up this way barely a century after it ended.”

Cooper scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Well thank God you didn’t have to witness it. Better you were in that fuckin’ pod than watching your precious America get nuked to bits.”

“Cooper!” Lucy scolded, glancing to Y/n to find her completely, and almost frightenedly, stoic.

Clenching her jaw, Y/n’s anger was becoming more difficult to contain. Going through the five stages of grief daily. Acceptance was on the horizon but she had to navigate the anger and depression first. The denial came and went the day she awoke, and bargaining was useless.

Taking a sharp inhale, Y/n bit the inside of her cheek, “I was six years old when World War One began, ten when it ended. My daddy was shipped off France and when he returned, he was a different man.” Eyes lined with angry tears, Y/n pinned her gaze on Cooper. He held it, chill running down his spine by the power she radiated. Her voice had an edge, “World War One was supposed to be the war to end all wars. When the Second broke out in ‘39, he and everyone who was fortunate to come home, felt like everything they endured was all for nothing.” She paused, letting the words linger. Lucy’s heart clenched, understanding where Y/n was going by bringing up her father.

She related to the feeling.

Licking her lips she continued, “So when America entered, and I was recruited, I made a vow to him and to every, single, soldier--living and dead, that what we did would not be in vain. That it wouldn’t be for nothing.” She swallowed, tightening her jaw. “You have no idea what I went through. What I endured. I lost my husband and my best friend,” a tear slipped, rolling down her cheek. “I was the only survivor of the Howling Commandos--do you know what that’s like? To be the only one. I came back home a new person, just like my daddy and every damn soldier who stepped foot on the frontlines. And when I came home….you want to know what I faced?” She didn’t even let him try to answer, but then again how could he answer.

“I came home to a government that I defended, working to destroy my name and reputation. Who wanted to lock me in a lab to prick and poke for the rest of my life if they discovered the truth because to them, the serum was more valuable than my life. All while raising three young children and preventing a nuclear disaster from happening,” Now the anger had released after two weeks of sizzling. Erupting like a volcano. Y/n didn’t hold back, and the two understood, not moving to interrupt.

“You told me you went through the second wave of McCarthyism. Well guess what, I experienced the first. Once Congress was off my back with the serum it didn’t end there. I had to face the man the damn movement is named after. Having to rebuild my reputation all over again because the madman accused me of being a communist! When in reality I was doing everything in my power to deescalate the tensions between America and the Reds. To ensure the generations after were guaranteed peace and a safe future. So yeah,” she spat, the fire in her veins mirroring the one in front of her. “It’s a good thing I was in the pod. Saved me the embarrassment of watching the country I risked everything to get blown to bits, as you say, by a failure of a generation.”

That last statement cut Cooper deep. Yet, he was silent. Unable to form any defense because deep down he knew there was none. His generation failed. Failed their children and the generations after them. They allowed Vault-Tec to control the narrative. Now they reaped the repercussions. But Y/n wasn’t finished, ending him with a final blow to the chest.

“And as a former soldier yourself, Cooper, don’t you blame yourself even the tiniest bit?” His sharp inhale was enough of an answer, Y/n watching the flicker of emotion pass his eyes. She knew it was harsh, but there was no turning back, even if he now hated her. “Because right now, I can’t even bring myself to think my efforts in the war accomplished anything. To me…..it was all for nothing.”

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard imagine #the ghoul #cooper howard angst #the ghoul imagine #fallout imagine #fallout au #fallout fanfic #marvel au #marvel crossover #lucy maclean #lucy maclean x reader

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suavemania · 1 year ago

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― ROSE FIELDS.

pairing: leon kennedy x partner!reader summary: leon kissed you during a mission. you confront him, but leon struggles to tell you the truth. that he loves you. words: 861 words, short and sweet. warnings: pretty angsty! leon deals with his trauma & self hate badly. light suicidal ideations. notes: i originally wrote this with my resident evil oc in mind. but i re-wrote this to fit into a reader perspective for tumblr to hopefully enjoy. written from leon's pov in mind. ummm, not super proofread BUT yeah. idk. it just spilled! i have pt. 2 and 3 already written but not sure if theres much interest tisstiss

"Leon, the kiss-"

"Don't."

He knew that the kiss was going to haunt him, that he would never be able to take it back. He placed his lips on yours, feather-like; as if he kissed you too hard you’d crumble under him. That’s all it was, he defended. A moment of weakness. But it was gone all too soon.

He sat on the bed, defeated. His shoulders stiff as he leaned forward, resting his weight on the elbows that were resting on his heavy legs. He felt your eyes burn into him. You were upset, confused, your emotions swirled in your throat, and Leon just sat there, silent. He refused to look at you, he couldn't.

"Please." you plead.

And the guilt piles in his stomach once more. The canine teeth of his shame sinking in on his shoulders like pure poison, pumping his veins. He felt like he always made you feel like this, always selfishly hinging his feelings like bait, giving you bits of evidence to his true feelings whenever he felt like he would suffocate; whenever his heart burst at the seams. All he could do to defend himself was that this was for your own good, that it's nothing. You shouldn't know, you can't know, it would- it would- what would it...

Coward.

That's what he thought about himself.

The truth was that Leon was scared of allowing himself to live in rose fields, let alone walk in them. After Raccoon City, he was so used to spending time in the dim and dark. The bright worlds felt foreign, forbidden; like something his mind and body had long forgotten. the light: it felt like a fantasy, you were like a fantasy. But Leon would rather let his heart waste away inside him than chase after a dream. His dream for safety, security, and knowing that his heart would be protected, shielded from his nightmares and guilt.

"Please, just talk to me."

But Leon kept his mouth shut, his head lowered to avoid seeing your silhouette. Had he given in, had he let his mouth confess his true feelings for his partner; he would have simply had to build another cage for his heart to live in: the inevitable fate of heartbreak, disappointing the one he loved the most. Leon had allowed himself to melt into his self-hatred long ago, feeding the insects at his feet and meeting the soil like honey. He would never admit that loudly, though. That would be thoughts he would sink with until the sticky soil met his broken body, his dampened soul melting into the stars. Or so he hoped.

Moments of silence pass, and as you stand in front of him, he notices your hands picking at each other (a bad habit, he knew that about you). For a brief moment, Leon allowed himself to marvel at you, to selfishly gaze at the only thing that mattered in his life.

You.

The sun, he thought. He bit his tongue even harder, feeling his jaw clench tightly. Don't do this. Don't be so selfish, don't. What makes him think that he could ever pay off his mistakes, his sins that came back to haunt him every night; clawing at his back. The morbid pictures of Raccoon City were carved inside him, deeply imprinted into his body and mind. He couldn’t allow himself to lose another, especially if the person in question was you.

He had imagined it if you were there that night, if he had lost you to the memory of Raccoon City. In his scenario, he would clammer his hands tightly onto yours. You’ve been infected, sick and weeping as you rot in front of him, your body actively decaying as he tries to fix you, trying to squeeze his power into you. You cried, blaming him for your slow, painful death. But that wasn’t a reality, and it was something he avoided by not telling you the truth, by not admitting that he loved you. Desperately.

Maybe he was destined to be married to his work and not the person who stood in front of him. Had he thought about it? Absolutely, more than he would like to admit. Whenever he had trouble sleeping at night, his mind would wander into his better fantasies. He had played a ridiculous amount of scenarios in his head, all that would never come true. they would range from holding his partner's hand while they slept, to him taking photos of them as they explored the world together and the beauty that remained.

“Leon, please-”

You felt your heart in your throat as you begged Leon with desperate eyes to speak, to answer your questions and feelings. You were filled with warmth, and your warmth was all Leon wanted to indulge himself in, to dive into. He wanted to feel you, to allow you to sand down his bones and brain until all he could be was the remains of his love, your love.

And he could just taste it, the sweet taste in his mouth. It was unbearable. He felt himself shred his hearts walls, the sting burning its remains in his chest, and all he could spit out was,

"I love you."

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy x reader #leon x you #resident evil leon #idk anymore im sad LOL #suavemania #short n sweet drabbles

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generalgrievoussummerbod · 29 days ago

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Another Inktober piece 😃

11 - Snack(s)

Kenabres, 4175 AR. Approximately one day before cultists attack the Defender's Heart.

(Best to click for better image quality, tumblr’s mangling the preview)

My KC, Dornik, distinctly remembers waking up in agony a few days ago and hearing Some Fucking Blond telling everyone to throw their mortally wounded body in an accommodating ditch, so now they're choosing violence~

Might be easier to read the panels individually on mobile, so I've included them along with some ramblings about characters and designs under the cut 😊.

Panels!

I love writing and drawing these characters so much aaaa, they're all DISASTERS and their designs are so fun. Everything about Wenduag's design is just chef's kiss I've never not had fun making art of her! Those eyes! Those adorable cheeks! Those damn spider leggies! She's so expressive and awful I love herrrrr.

Dornik and Daeran are both great for challenging myself. I'm not imagining Wenduag is tiny, Dornik's just a pretty strong orc who's nearly 7ft tall, and learning to capture that built-like-a-mountain vibe is so rewarding. (Because orc. More orc so good yesssss.) This picture is taken seconds before disaster (Dornik in all their 8 wis glory has yet to twig that Wenduag might take their hilarious joke as an endorsement) because what are beloved OCs for if not taking Ls?

With Daeran, one of my favourite things about his portrait is how vaguely unsettling it is, especially with his eyes, and I really want to capture that when I'm drawing him. His unhinged energy is so important to me 😍, and the idea of that rhythm of high energy-sudden stop (the first mask drops, revealing a second, equally beautifully crafted mask which is also but not entirely more true)-high energy dance is what inspired me to make this in the first place. That, and the escalating-curveballs dynamic you can have between him and your Commander 😍 just an absolute pair of menaces 😍.

And Cami's just always a delight to draw, she's trying hard (well. sometimes) to be so proper but underneath there is everything So Wrong With Her (Cami romancers if you're reading this you're strong and fearless and have all my support). There's such a threatening aura to play with and the contrast between her self and the facade she's trying to maintain is marvelous enrichment for the art brain.

#not pictured seelah (assigned the party braincell): i guess this might as well happen sure #sorry kenabres you wanted heroes you got dysfunctional twentyishsomethings #pf:wotr #pathfinder wrath of the righteous #daeran #daeran arendae #wenduag #camellia #camellia gwerm #pathfinder wrath of the righteous spoilers #pf: wotr spoilers #knight commander #dornik #az art #az oc

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princessfishy · 2 years ago

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Art Sketch Requests?

I wanna draw some stuff so like

Sketch requests are open!!! https://www.tumblr.com/new/ask/princessfishy

Currently only accepting requests to draw things from

- Moonknight (MCU only)

- The Punisher (MCU only)

- Daredevil (MCU only)

I WILL NOT DRAW OCS </3 Unless you’re requesting i draw one of my own, from here https://toyhou.se/MutantFishy/characters/folder:3966667

#marvel #mcu #marvel defenders #marvel art #marvel oc #marvel mcu #daredevil #the punisher #moonknight #moon knight #moonknight art

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jerzwriter · 3 months ago

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Here's part two for this ask and this one, too! I wrote the Ethan x Kaycee version here, and now it's Carrick's turn. I hope you enjoy this!

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Tobias x Casey Carrick (F!MC) Featuring: The Carrick Girls (F!OCs) Rating: Teen Words: 1,100 Summary: When Samantha expresses her displeasure with her Dad at drop off, Tobias & Casey make sure that pick up will be... even worse! :)

It was a beautiful, sunny September morning. It may have been unseasonably cool for some, but not for Casey. She smiled as she took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air, her spiced pumpkin latte warming her hands. This was what she had dreamed of all summer long.

“Let’s go, girls!” she called out to her two eldest daughters, Samantha and Brooke, as she secured little Kayla into her booster seat. “It’s too early in the year to be late for school!”

The girls hurried to the car, and Casey checked their seat belts after they strapped themselves in. Samantha, a precocious child, was not pleased. “Mom!” she protested. “I am ten years old now! I know how to put on my seatbelt!”

Casey grinned. “I have no doubt about that, young lady. But, as your mom, I will double-check on your safety whenever I want, even when you’re my age.”

“Even when she’s that old?” Brooke marveled, filling the vehicle with infectious giggles when Casey shot her a stern but amused look. She couldn’t even blame her; thirty-nine seemed pretty ancient to her when she was eight years old, too.

With the girls ready, Casey hopped into the driver’s seat and honked the horn when she saw the time. Tobias came rushing out of the house and settled in the passenger seat. He kissed Casey on the cheek, then turned to smile at his girls. “Morning, ladies. Are we ready?”

“Yep!” Brooke replied enthusiastically, but Samantha just rolled her eyes.

“DAD!” she groaned.

Tobias gave himself a once over, trying to discern the issue. “What? What did I do this time, Sammy? Breathe? Exist?”

Samantha pursed her lips. “You’re not planning on getting out of the car when we get to school, are you?”

“Well, I am now,” he chuckled, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Sammy!” Brooke reprimanded. “Look what you did! You have to learn to listen to what Grammie says and keep your thoughts inside your head!”

Tobias stifled a laugh as he whispered in Casey's ear. “Because my Mom does that so well herself.”

Turning his attention back to his girls, he asked again. “So seriously, Sam. What did I do now?”

“Your clothes!” She admonished.

“What?” He asked, downright offended. “This is a Frank Ocean Blonde hoodie! Official merch! It’s a collector’s item!”

“I like it, Daddy,” Brooke chimed in, and Tobias gave her an approving nod in the visor mirror.

“Thank you, sweetie. And that will be reflected in your Christmas present this year.”

But Samantha wasn't done. “And your shoes?”

Tobias looked at his feet, once again astonished that his daughter had any problem with his attire. “What! What is wrong with my shoes?”

“CROCS. With SOCKS!” Samantha gagged.

“Hey! These are not your standard Crocs, young lady!” Tobias defended. “These are Salehe Bembury! Do you know how hard it was to get these?" He turned to his wife incredulously. “Can you believe this?”

Casey laughed softly, patting his knee. “Clearly, we’ve failed as parents, love. But, they’re young, we still have time to course-correct.”

“But why SOCKS?” Samantha demanded.

“Because it’s cold!” Tobias sighed, shaking his head.

He looked at Kayla, sitting in the middle seat, blissfully unaware of everything taking place around her. "What can we do to keep her that age forever?” He asked Casey. “I like that age! She still worships me and thinks I’m the most incredible person on earth.”

“Baby isn’t that what you have me for,” Casey winked, sending Samantha into the stratosphere.

“GROSS!” she yelled. “You two are GROSS!”

They pulled up in front of Samantha and Brooke’s school, and Samantha jumped from the car as if it was on fire. She wanted to be in the front door before her father stepped outside, but Tobias wasn't having it.

“Hello, Principal Hirsch!” he yelled, waving maniacally. “Hello, Mrs. Simmons! Samantha is so excited to get to work today! That's all she could talk about on the ride here!”

"Oh God!" Samantha muttered under her breath, avoiding eye contact with everyone. But Tobias grabbed her hand and gave her a goodbye hug.

“Be good, young lady, or I’ll make Mom get out of the car and kiss her in front of everyone.”

“You’re so embarrassing!” Samantha sighed as Brooke tugged at her Dad’s shirt.

“I love you, Daddy,” Brooke grinned.

“And Daddy loves you, too,” he smiled, waving both girls off to class.

Back in the car, Casey was still laughing over the chaos.

“What do you say we liquidate Sammy’s college fund and take a trip to Tahiti? Just you and me,” Tobias joked. "It would serve her right!"

“That may be a little extreme,” Casey smiled. “Don’t worry, hon. She still adores you. Samantha’s always been Daddy’s little girl, and she always will be. This is just a stage.”

"A stage I hope passes quickly," he sighed. "And it's easier for you! She doesn't seem to get embarrassed by you!”

“Yet!” Casey assured.

“Well, please do what you can to move that process along,” he pleaded. “You know we’re all for equity in this family.”

Casey smirked and got quiet. Tobias noticed the look on her face and leaned in. “Okay, what’s that look about? What are you planning?”

“Oh, nothing,” Casey said, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. “But I just might have an idea…”

~~~~

That afternoon, as school let out, Samantha and Brooke scanned the crowd of waiting parents, only to find Casey, Tobias, and little Kayla waving animatedly—all dressed in inflatable dinosaur costumes.

Brooke's face turned beet red. “Oh my God,” she mumbled, but her embarrassment quickly gave way to delight. She rushed over to her family, giving them all big hugs. “Can I get a dinosaur costume, too?”

“Already done,” Tobias grinned, handing her a package containing a small inflatable dino suit.

Mortified, Samantha tried to sneak toward the car, hoping no one would notice her family. But Tobias bounded over to her in full dinosaur glory, mussing up her perfectly styled curls. “How was your day, beautiful? Was it grrrrr-eat?” he roared.

"Mom!" Samantha cried, only to remember that right now, her Mom was a dinosaur, too.

Later, as the family piled into the car, Tobias looked at Samantha with sincerity. “You know, it’s okay to be embarrassed by us sometimes. Heaven knows Gramie still embarrasses me, but life’s too short not to have a little fun.”

Samantha rolled her eyes but leaned over to give her Dad a hug. “I’m not saying that you’re not embarrassing, but... I’m still glad you’re my Dad.”

Casey smiled at Tobias from the driver's seat.

“Well, I’m awfully happy I’m your Dad, Sammy. That goes for you, too, Brooke and Kayla.”

“So,” Casey grinned, putting the car in drive. “What do you say stop and get ice cream on the way home? In our costumes, of course!"

“Did you get me one, too?” Sammy asked.

“Do you think we’d leave you out?” Tobias grinned.

Samanta let out a little giggle. “All right, then. Let’s go!"

~~~~~

I kind of picture it going like this! lol

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

#open heart #open heart fanfic #choices open heart #open heart choices #choices fanfic #choices #choices stories you play #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #the carrick girls #playchoices #playchoices fanfic

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jackiequick · 2 months ago

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In The Shadows / Marvel Comics OC ⌚️

Elias Drake-Thorne

— / — / —

Face Claim: Jonathan Bailey

———

Full Name: Elijah Henry Drake Thorne

Age: 26

Height: 5’11

Zodiac Sign: Virgo (reserved, analytical, and observant)

Nickname(s):

“Elias” (tends to have a softer, more modern sound compared to the traditional)

"Eli" (a casual version of his name)

"The Silent Observer" (due to his quiet and observant nature)

“Eli-Bear” (it’s what his mother used to call him)

Relationship Status: Single

— / —

Personality

Elias Drake is a figure of quiet strength and subtle complexity. His reserved nature allows him to carefully observe and analyze situations from the sidelines, stepping in only when he feels he has a complete understanding. This calm and stoic demeanor often masks a more impulsive side, revealing a slightly rash and temperamental edge when things don’t go as planned.

Despite his reserved exterior, Elias exudes a quiet confidence. He doesn’t need to be loud or overt to make an impact; when he speaks, people listen. His calm and gentle mannerism makes him approachable, yet he tends to be soft-spoken and slightly sarcastic, especially around new people. His empathetic nature allows him to offer kindness and support, though this is reserved for those he truly believes deserve it.

Reserved and Observant: Prefers to stay on the sidelines and notice details that others might miss, giving him an edge in understanding complex situations.

Quietly Confident: Makes a strong impression without needing to be overtly loud; his thoughtful insights and calm presence often capture attention.

Independent but Collaborative: Enjoys working alone but understands the importance of teamwork and collaboration when necessary, balancing solitude with cooperation.

Slightly Rash: Although generally measured, he can act impulsively when his temper flares or when faced with significant challenges to his principles.

Kind but Selective: His kindness is genuine but selective, extended to those who earn his trust and respect. He is gentle and supportive but discerning about who receives his warmth.

Protective and Loyal: His loyalty is unwavering for those he cares about deeply. Elias’s protective instincts ensure that he stands by and defends his loved ones, even if he seems distant to others.

—

Quirks and Interests:

Wears Glasses: His glasses add a thoughtful and intellectual touch to his appearance.

Bookworm: Though he enjoys reading, he has a stronger passion for films and often uses them as an escape.

Slight Temper: He tries to keep it in check but can be a bit hot-headed when frustrated.

———

—Background 🗞️

Elias Drake-Thorne grew up in a gritty, crime-ridden neighborhood of New York City, an environment where survival demanded caution and sharp instincts. His family lived on the fringes of society, often struggling to make ends meet, but they instilled in Elias the importance of resilience and intelligence. The loss of his parents instilled a deep desire for justice, but unlike the flashy superheroes he saw on the news, Elias preferred to operate in the shadows.

His quiet and observant nature helped him navigate the dangers of the streets, but it also set him apart from others his age, who often resorted to louder, more aggressive means of coping.

Struggles in School:

Academically, Elias was never the best student. He found it hard to focus on traditional subjects that didn’t capture his interest. However, when it came to technology, engineering, and creative writing, he thrived. Teachers often noted that while Elias lacked discipline in some areas, he excelled when left to explore topics on his own terms.

He was the kind of student who would rather figure things out through hands-on experience than by reading textbooks. His self-directed learning led him to develop a keen understanding of technology and electronics, often repairing gadgets or inventing small devices for fun.

— | — | —

Career at Stark Industries:

Eventually, Elias’s natural talent with technology earned him a spot at Stark Industries as a tech consultant. Despite his unconventional academic background, his skill set made him an asset to the company. Elias was particularly valued for his ability to think outside the box, offering creative solutions to complex problems.

While he kept a low profile, preferring not to attract attention, he found satisfaction in contributing to projects that supported the Avengers and enhanced Stark’s technology. His job allowed him to quietly play a part in protecting the world, even if he was never on the front lines.

Passion for Writing:

Though technology became his career, Elias’s true love has always been storytelling. He developed a passion for writing early on, finding solace in crafting narratives that explored justice, corruption, and the complexities of human nature. In his free time, he began writing investigative pieces, focusing on the darker, hidden parts of New York’s criminal underworld.

His reserved nature made him an excellent investigator—people rarely noticed him, and he was adept at blending into the background. His articles, though often published anonymously or under pseudonyms, became a way for him to expose the truths others were too afraid to confront.

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—|—|—

—Likes ☕️

Iced Coffee: Elias has a penchant for iced coffee, which keeps him alert during long nights of work or writing.

Drama Shows: He enjoys drama shows, particularly those with complex characters and intricate plots. He finds them a great escape and a source of inspiration for his own writing.

Mac & Cheese: A comfort food that reminds him of simpler times; he often makes it for himself when he’s feeling nostalgic or in need of a quick meal.

Simple Fashion: Prefers understated, practical clothing—jeans, simple tees, and comfortable shoes. He values functionality over fashion trends.

Homebody: Elias enjoys staying in and tends to be a homebody. He finds solace in the comfort of his own space, away from the chaos of the outside world.

—Dislikes 📌

Loud, Crowded Places: Due to his reserved nature, Elias dislikes loud, crowded environments which can be overwhelming and stressful for him.

Disorganization: He values order and tends to be irked by disorganization, whether in his personal space or in his work environment.

Unnecessary Attention: Prefers to stay out of the spotlight and avoids situations where he is the center of attention.

Overly Sweet Foods: While he likes mac & cheese, he’s not a fan of overly sweet foods or drinks, finding them cloying and unappealing.

—Nerdy Interests 📼

Films and Series: Elias is a film enthusiast who enjoys everything from classic cinema to modern blockbusters. He often analyzes films and series for their storytelling techniques and thematic depth.

Video Essays: He enjoys watching video essays on a variety of topics, including film theory, technology, and social issues. They provide him with new perspectives and insights.

Music: Music is a big part of his life, and he has a diverse taste ranging from classical to modern genres. He often listens to music while working or relaxing at home.

Tech Gadgets: Beyond his professional work, Elias has a deep interest in the latest tech gadgets and innovations. He enjoys keeping up with the latest advancements and understanding how they work.

Comics and Graphic Novels: While not a superhero himself, Elias enjoys comics and graphic novels for their storytelling and artistic value. They provide him with creative inspiration and a way to unwind.

— | — | —

—Elias Drake-Thorne's Soundtrack Playlist 🎧

“Sweater Weather” – The Neighbourhood

Perfect for Elias’s cozy, laid-back, and home-centered vibe. It’s atmospheric and moody, reflecting both his introverted nature and subtle complexity.

“Sure Thing” – Miguel

This track brings out Elias’s grounded, nurturing side. It has a sensual yet chill vibe, showing his capacity for caring deeply and being there for those he holds close.

“Saturn” – Sleeping At Last

A beautiful, introspective track that mirrors his thoughtful, reflective nature. It hints at his connection to loss, his desire for justice, and his emotional depth.

“Leave The Light On” – Tom Walker

A perfect fit for the more intense, emotional side of Elias, where he wrestles with personal struggles. The song’s message about holding on through tough times connects to his quiet but strong resilience.

“I’ll Be Good” – Jaymes Young

This song matches Elias’s inner conflict, balancing his quiet demeanor with a desire to do better and strive for justice, even in his more discreet ways.

“Flares” – The Script

An emotional, heartfelt track that speaks to Elias’s experience with loss and his gentle side. It captures his vulnerability and the quiet strength he draws from those experiences.

—— / —— / ——

— | —

—Style & Background Insights 🔓

~Style

Casual and Practical: Elias's style is understated and practical. He favors simple fashion choices—think well-fitted jeans, casual shirts, and comfortable sweaters. His look reflects a preference for practicality and comfort over flashy trends.

Subtle Elegance: His wardrobe includes pieces that are stylish yet subtle, with a preference for muted colors and clean lines. This aligns with his reserved personality, emphasizing functionality and a low-key elegance.

Tech-Influenced Accessories: Given his tech-savvy nature, Elias often wears minimalist tech accessories, such as smartwatches or sleek glasses, which complement his practical and intellectual style.

~Background

Challenging Upbringing: Growing up in a tough, crime-ridden neighborhood in New York, Elias witnessed the harsh realities of life early on, despite trying to see the light in the darkness. This environment shaped his cautious and observant nature, instilling in him a deep-seated desire for justice and a resolve to make a difference in his own way.

Dual Career: Balancing a career in tech consulting with a passion for journalism, Elias has forged a path that reflects his diverse interests and skills. His work at Stark Industries showcases his technical prowess, while his journalism endeavors highlight his creative and communicative side.

Quiet Heroism: Elias’s approach to justice and heroism is understated. He works behind the scenes, tackling issues with a subtle, yet effective impact. His focus is on creating change quietly and meaningfully, rather than seeking the spotlight or overt recognition.

Homebody Nature: Preferring a quiet life at home, Elias finds solace in simple pleasures—like enjoying a cup of iced coffee, indulging in drama shows, or spending time with his favorite books and films. His home is a sanctuary where he can unwind and recharge, away from the demands of his professional life.

— / — / —

—The Soft-Spoken Journalist 🖥️

Elias Drake-Thorne, much like a male counterpart to the iconic Lois Lane, embodies a blend of strength, determination, intelligence, and kindness. His journey reflects a deep commitment to storytelling and a passion for uncovering the truth, making his transition from tech consultant to journalist a natural evolution of his career and interests.

~Career Transition

Shift to Journalism: Elias's career initially centered around tech consulting at Stark Industries, where his technical expertise was invaluable. However, his true passion has always been storytelling. Recognizing that his heart lies in writing and reporting, Elias has made a deliberate shift towards journalism, focusing more on his love for writing and storytelling.

Focus Areas -> Elias's new role allows him to explore a range of topics:

- Entertainment and Celebrities: He writes engaging stories about the entertainment industry and celebrities, providing fresh perspectives and in-depth coverage.

- Technology: Combining his tech background with his journalistic pursuits, Elias covers the latest trends and innovations, offering insights that bridge his technical knowledge with his storytelling skills.

- Real-Life Events: His investigative work delves into significant real-life events, uncovering hidden truths and presenting them in a compelling manner.

- Lifestyle: Elias also explores lifestyle topics, sharing stories that resonate with his audience and reflect his understanding of contemporary issues and interests.

- Passion for Truth and Impact: Elias is driven by a desire to make a difference through his work. His stories aim to inform, inspire, and impact readers, emphasizing authenticity and the search for truth.

-> Narrative Style

- Thoughtful and Insightful: Elias's writing is characterized by its thoughtfulness and depth. He brings a nuanced perspective to his subjects, combining detailed analysis with engaging narrative techniques.

- Empathetic and Relatable: His approach to journalism is empathetic, focusing on the human element behind the stories. Elias’s kindness and sensitivity enable him to connect with his subjects and readers on a personal level.

- Commitment to Authenticity: Elias prioritizes honesty and integrity in his reporting. His commitment to presenting accurate and meaningful content reflects his dedication to making a positive impact through his work.

— / — / —

— | — | —

—Fun Facts 🖇️

— Multilingual Skills: Elias is fluent in both English and Spanish, a skill he picked up growing up in a multicultural neighborhood. He enjoys using his language skills to read international literature and connect with a diverse range of people.

— Phobia of Public Speaking: Despite his career in journalism, Elias has a deep-seated fear of public speaking. He prefers written communication and finds large audiences daunting, often opting for written articles over speaking engagements.

— Collector of Vintage Cameras: Elias has a growing collection of vintage cameras. His fascination with photography extends to collecting old and rare models, each with its own unique story and history.

— Night Owl: Though he often forces himself to adhere to a morning routine due to work demands, Elias is naturally a night owl. He finds that his creativity and productivity peak during the late hours, which is when he does most of his writing and thinking.

— Unusual Hobby: Elias is a bit of a “house husband” at heart. He takes pride in keeping his living space organized and enjoys the routine of household chores, finding them oddly therapeutic.

— Pet Peeve: He’s easily annoyed by loud or chaotic environments, preferring quieter, more serene settings where he can concentrate and feel at ease.

— Dream Destination: Elias dreams of visiting Paris, France someday, drawn by its rich cultural history, iconic landmarks, and vibrant arts scene. He’s eager to explore its museums, architecture, and culinary delights.

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And we’re done! Pls let me know what you think 💭

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