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azenkii · 5 years ago

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A Long List of Trash Fire Lord Zuko Headcanons

...that i couldn't get out of my head:

(warning: SUPER LONG POST i havent figured out how to trim posts yet)

he's the one who unchains azula despite iroh's protests. she doesn't even try to fight him, just cries into his shoulder and keeps mumbling about how father's going to be so disappointed in her. he takes her to her rooms and has her drink a sleeping draught, then stations the best guards he has left outside her chambers.

his first council meeting takes place literally a day after sozin's comet. he hobbles into the council chamber shirtless with his entire torso covered in bandages and every council member just looks at him like '...what'

he does NOT sleep for like,,a week after sozin's comet and then another two weeks after his coronation. katara, aang and suki try to persuade him to sleep and he doesn't listen. eventually sokka, toph and mai team up to literally drag his ass to bed and tell him he's not allowed to get up until he sleeps (does mai pin him to the bed with her knives? yes. is it kinky or sexual in any way? definitely not.)

he drinks So. Much. Tea. at this point it's practically tasteless to him but he drinks it anyway because he just needs something to do and tea is something familiar. he keeps iroh on his toes because he's constantly asking for new tea blends, uncle, i think i actually tasted the last one,

he flat-out refuses to grow his hair for at least a year after ozai's defeat. the second it starts getting close to his chin he shears it off himself, with his knife, and his stylist has a heart attack every single time

when he's tired he'll occasionally jump up when one of his guards moves. it stops after a bit, but for the first month and a half or so he's really twitchy. when sokka asks, the only explanation he can come up with is that he's not used to having people stand behind him silently and not want to kill him, much less want to protect him (sokka immediately takes him out for a shopping trip and makes a point of walking behind him the entire time, but only on zuko's right side, where he can clearly see it if sokka moves towards him)

when the healer declares azula mentally unstable and in need of an institution, he shuts himself in his office for the rest of the night. no one's allowed in, not even iroh. he finally emerges in the morning, eyes red from crying and sleep deprivation, and tells the librarian that he'd like a list of the best mental institutions in the country, please, the best in the world if you can get them

he loves theatre (is this even a headcanon?). unfortunately it practically died out in the fire nation along with the rest of the creative arts, leaving nothing but small troupes like the ember island players. one of zuko's personal goals (meaning things he wants to accomplish that aren't as important as restoring his country) is to bring back theatre; he finally manages to do it after about eight months or so of being fire lord, along with other arts like dancing, music and sculpture

he establishes a national day of mourning, on the first day of autumn every year, to commemorate the genocide of the air nomads. from 100AG onwards, every calendar printed in the fire nation has it marked. at first it was called the day of repentance, but aang persuaded him to have it changed (by arguing that he didn't want guilt to be a literal staple of fire nation culture)

he introduces literally So Many educational reforms, plus a mandatory class that teaches students about the cultures of the other nations (air nomads included) and how some of their traditions overlap

he turns down the offer of having a statue put up of him in the capital. toph ignores him and does it anyway.

he visits azula regularly, makes sure she's (relatively) comfortable and well-fed, and sometimes just sits down outside her door and tells her about everything that's going on right now ('some of the far colonies have developed their own standardised writing, azula, you wouldn't believe it, and i've asked the fire sages to come visit more often—but you never liked them, did you? oh, well; i'll make sure none of them go into your chambers by mistake')

(he doesn't know it, but when he does this azula sits by the door and listens. she wonders what kind of writing the colonists have developed, and whether or not the fire sages have taken on some new recruits.)

he hates being above anyone else. never sits in the throne if he can help it, nor does he sit on the dais in the council room. when he talks to people shorter than him, he finds himself stooping a little bit to talk to them on their level (the exception to this rule is sokka, who he mocks for being shorter all the way up until sokka grows taller than him, the bastard)

the first time he visits the earth kingdom, the earth king's ministers call a toast. he ends up being the only one who has to sit out, because he's too young to drink by earth kingdom law

once his servants figure out he won't kill them for talking to him, they start becoming a lot more bold, telling him off when he doesn't take care of himself. at one point, they force him to let them take care of him so much that he literally just bolts into the gardens and hides there until the staff rope in mai and ty lee

when he needs to escape, he does one of two things: (a) he dresses up as the blue spirit and does some parkour until he calms down, or (b) he goes to work at the jasmine dragon. (b) happens less often bc the jasmine dragon's in ba sing se, but there's been a few memorable incidents when an earth kingdom diplomat walks in and yells, 'LEE?!' when they see the fire lord

the first court artist who draws him also happens to be the one who drew azulon and ozai. he draws zuko without his scar. zuko takes one look at it and tells him, very calmly, that he'd like him to leave, please.

zuko burns the portrait. he doesn't fire the court artist, but he never calls on him again unless he has to. a second court artist is called, and can't help but be a bit confused when the fire lord tells him to be sure to include the scar

he forgets the crown. a lot. sometimes he walks into council meetings in his sleepwear with his hair tied up in a messy ponytail and a bunch of scrolls tucked under his arm. none of his councilmen have the guts (or the heart) to tell him that this is not, in fact, formal council wear

he goes to feed the turtleducks when he's stressed. he thinks he's being subtle. he's not. the entire palace knows, and they consciously give him space when they see him in the turtleduck garden

most of his staff are older than him, so they look at him and see this teeny tiny fire lord who is So Small and who Must Be Protected. the day after zuko's coronation, the head chef holds a meeting where they commence Operation Do-Not-Let-That-Boy-Turn-Out-Like-His-Father (subsection He's-The-Only-Good-Thing-We-Have)

one night he wakes up to find suki sitting in his room, decked out in full kyoshi warrior garb and makeup, and just about screams blue murder. suki tells him there are suspicions of an assassin in the palace, and would you please stop yelling it's very distracting, we won't be able to hear anyone coming over that racket

zuko gets very, very paranoid of random spirits after that. yeah, suki looks like a possibly malevolent spirit when she's wearing her makeup, what about it? (when he tells sokka he's highkey terrified of spirit shenanigans, sokka just looks at him and says, 'man, the stories i could tell...', and THAT'S when zuko remembers sokka spent like six months more than he did travelling with the avatar)

on his first visit to the southern water tribe, he removes his boots and leg guards, rolls up his pants and kneels barefoot in the snow. even though chief hakoda immediately starts trying to pull him up, he's stubborn as hell and stays kneeling for the entirety of his very long, very sincere apology-on-behalf-of-the-fire-nation speech. he nearly loses his toes to frostbite after that, and both sokka and katara never stop giving him shit for it

the first time he grows a 'beard' is completely accidental. he's stressed over some trade miscommunications with chief hakoda, hasn't slept in a few days...and then when sokka arrives as water tribe ambassador to help smooth things over, he takes one look at zuko and says 'man, facial hair does not suit you'

zuko: facial what now

he checks a mirror to find that he's got stubble covering his chin, dark enough that it almost looks intentional, and holy gods how the fuck did he not notice this before

'UNCLE WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME' 'i assumed you were doing it on purpose' 'WHEN HAVE I EVER DONE ANYTHING ON PURPOSE'

he shaves it all off immediately, of course, which prompts a lot of teasing and rib-poking from sokka until zuko finally snaps that he's scared it'll make him look like his father. sokka stops after that.

(the day after sokka leaves, zuko finds that a mysterious someone has scribbled all over ozai's royal portrait, giving him a frankly ridiculous beard and moustache that literally CANNOT be grown in real life. oddly enough, he can't bring himself to care about the defamation of royal property. he's too busy laughing.)

his paths cross with toph and sokka more than any of the others, because sokka is ambassador and toph is technically still a beifong. most of the time, at formal functions, he ends up sequestered in the corner with toph and a hoard of snacks, and they talk and swear much more than they usually do (zuko's ministers once heard him when he was drunk with toph, and the servants swear the older ministers' ears started bleeding)

he restores fire nation cultural festivals, and in doing so subjects himself to learning a lot of complicated dances

during one memorable week, he wrote so many letters and drafted so much legislation that he ran out of paper. he had to go visit the nearest school and ask for some

he keeps up with his firebending and sword training even though it's hard to fit into his schedule. his ministers refrain from reminding him that he has guards to protect him now; it's still hard for zuko to trust his safety with anyone but himself (team avatar is the exception).

he started sleepwalking about two months into his reign. no one knew why. one time, he nearly sleepwalked right off the edge of a balcony, and one of his guards had to grab him by the back of his robes.

the sleepwalking stopped after around a month and never happened again. at this point it's practically palace legend.

after freeing the war prisoners, he went around collecting every single earthbender-proof wooden cell he could find in the capital and surrounding areas. when he'd gotten most of them, he gathered them into a huge pile in the city square and set fire to them with his own hands.

unfortunately he couldn't do that with the waterbender metal cells but he did get toph to come in and bend them all into pretty shapes (well, toph thought they were pretty shapes. everyone else thinks they're meaningless squiggles)

he learned how to write with both hands at the same time out of sheer necessity (he refused scribes until it became clear that he'd be putting some people out of a job; that was when he started letting scribes write very, very minor things, but all important documents/drafts/letters are still written by him)

he once put the wet end of an ink brush in his mouth instead of the wooden end by mistake. didn't even realise until he bit down to keep it in place and ink went oozing everywhere

when his guards rushed in to find him coughing and spluttering black liquid all over his desk they thought he'd been poisoned but no he's just stupid

on his 17th birthday, his first one after being crowned, he got tackled by team avatar in the middle of the ballroom and ended up at the bottom of a cuddlepile for like ten minutes

this cuddlepile happened at an event that was very much public and very much formal. it was a scandal for weeks

just. fire lord zuko, guys. so much potential

#holy cow this ended up so much longer than i intended #atla #avatar #zuko #firelord zuko #headcanons

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poodlejoonas · 3 years ago

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Inspired by my BC Fan Week dad!Joonas short: the rest of the guys as uncles

@the-killer-queenie just sent me a darling DM with her own ideas of it and now I want to add more: the other members as uncles (and Joonas as a dad). And if you’re cool with it, I included your original DM that inspired it at the end.

Also, perfect timing because there was a discussion of BC dad/uncle headcanons in the Violent Pop server while I was cleaning, so this one’s also for you guys 🥂

Under the read-more for length:

Joonas:

His first reaction when he found out he was going to be a dad was pure fear. He doubted that he would ever be a good one and that he would end up ruining his daughter’s life. While the anxieties lingered (and still do, even with her here), he learned to grow into the idea. He became super protective of his girlfriend, calling every chance he got while he was either in the Netherlands or on tour to make sure that she was comfortable. She got annoyed super fast by how fussy he was, but she understood that he was excited and anxious and only wanted the best for them. He was the one to suggest the name Sohvi and started calling her by it long before she was even born.

Despite finding out about the pregnancy in April, they waited until almost the end of June to make the news public. It was a big all-in-one announcement: a small gender reveal at home with a cake and a letterboard with her birthday and initials (name was kept secret until she arrived). This all conveniently happened before the tour so the crowd went into the show knowing about her. As much as he would have loved to invite his girlfriend to more summer tour shows, he wanted to make sure she wasn’t overexposed to the heat and stress of being in a large crowd. When she does come to one of the shows in Helsinki, he sets her up with an air conditioned room backstage. Every time they were sitting next to each other, he would instinctively hold her belly. Whenever he was at home, he would sing to them so Sohvi could hear his voice. Eventually, she would kick when he started singing, almost like she knew he was there.

Joonas would be a fantastic girl dad! The night before every tour, he lets her paint his nails any color she wants, and he refuses to take it off no matter how messy it is or how chipped it gets. It becomes like a tradition for them, mostly so she can get used to the idea of him being gone for long periods of time. When she can come to local shows, she does the make-up for him and the rest of the guys (the ones who wear it, at least). They play an acoustic version of one of their songs (something like My Heart is a Hurricane) for whenever she can join them on stage; it’s a small break for the ones who aren’t playing and a chance for her to see them perform without noise-cancelling headphones.

He takes super adorable pictures of and with her, and whenever he posts something of her and her mom together, he calls them “his girls.” He would also certainly have her name and her birthday (November 15) in Roman numerals tattooed over his heart. Every year around Christmas time, they take a family weekend vacation to Rovaniemi to visit Santa’s village. In all, he would surprise a lot of people - and himself - by fitting into the role so well and so quickly. He’s not a perfect dad, but he tries his best.

The “responsible” uncles:

Tommi:

Tommi would almost certainly be her favorite uncle. He’s just such a massive teddy bear in general that she loves whenever she can get a hug from him. When they go out as a group, especially to festivals, he carries her around on his shoulders so she can feel tall and see the other bands perform better. I get vibes from him that he’s the best cook out of the group, so whenever he’s on babysitting duty, he makes her the best meals. He likes to wrestle and playfully rough house with her to make her laugh. It’s not uncommon for her to fall asleep while he’s holding her because he’s that comfy to rest on. After the Bass Incident, he became the top candidate for being her godfather.

Olli:

You know, until last week, I thought that Olli would be the best choice for being her godfather, but after the lost bass fiasco I don’t think he can be trusted with a child lol. But he’s still one of the responsible uncles regardless! When she’s super young, sometimes she gets him and her dad confused with each other because their hair and instruments look so similar (see also: this vine). He’s the one who likes to take her out to the park and then get ice cream with her afterwards. He also has zero shame about letting her put a tiara on him and invite him to her tea party, and he plays along with it too. When he’s on babysitting duty, he reads her stories and sometimes narrates them with different voices.

Aleksi:

He’s the chill responsible uncle. He works so often that he rarely ever gets time to hang out with her outside of the studio like the others do, but they spend the most time together while he works. He holds her while he works at his laptop and lets her watch the cool colors and coding scroll across the screen. He’s the first one to volunteer to hold her if Joonas has to go in the other room to record his parts, and typically the first one to volunteer to take care of her last-minute. When she gets a little older, between song editing sessions, he’ll open a fresh file and let her “record” her own songs. Of course, they almost never leave his laptop, but it’s the thought that counts.

The “irresponsible” uncles:

Niko:

Okay, so Niko is one of the “irresponsible” ones but almost certainly a little better than Joel at the job. What puts him in this category is that he swears like a sailor even when she’s in the room because he forgets that kids are sponges and absorb everything they see and hear. He also has no problem throwing some chicken nuggets in the oven and calling it a day, so he needs to be reminded that she has to eat more than that. But he’s still a loving uncle, he just needs someone to help him babysit lol. He lets her play with his hair when they’re hanging out together, and when she gets older, he teaches her how to play the piano. She loves when he sings to her and she’ll request certain songs from him. He’s also the uncle who encourages her to just talk and talk (building up her communication skills) by pretending that they’re gossiping together (“oh really? what did he do next? tell me more!”)

This post is totally Niko, by the way:

Joel:

Joel... love this boy, but he’s without a doubt the least responsible of the uncles. It’s mostly because he can spend maybe an hour and a half maximum with her before he hits a wall of exhaustion and is ready to send her back to her parents. When he’s with others who can help him take care of her, he can hang out with her a little bit longer. He also has no idea how to actually hang out with a child in a kid-friend context. Admittedly, he was the least excited to find out that she was coming because he thought that meant Joonas was going to leave the band. He needed tons of confirmation before he warmed up to the idea of becoming an uncle. But that doesn’t make him a totally bad uncle. He treats her like a member of his own family as well and he’s great at making her laugh. He’s also the first to jump to her or Joonas’ defense on Instagram if tabloids (or someone like That Bitch Archie Cruz) make defamatory comments about them.

The original HC:

#blind channel #joonas porko #joel hokka #niko moilanen #olli matela #tommi lalli #aleksi kaunisvesi #dad!joonas #i'm so glad i'm not the only one with these ideas racking my brain #now i gotta plan the others that have been requested #thanks for enabling me y'all!

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quirk--karma · 4 years ago

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The Things We Lose Aizawa x Reader

Aizawa looked at the clock yet again. He was probably just as eager as his students were for class to end on a Friday. Just another 17 minutes until the bell and he coul- “Daddy!” Tired eyes suddenly widened at the cute voice that followed pattering footsteps. Without much warning his two-year-old son came barreling towards him, eventually grabbing onto his leg. “Maka, mommy said to wait for her and not bother daddy in class!” Aizawa’s head turned to see his five-year-old daughter trying to round up her sibling. The sounds of murmurs and whispers from his class didn’t go unnoticed. Looking up he could see twenty pairs of wide eyes homing in on the two children who had suddenly made an appearance. The black-haired man sighed heavily.

Its not that he wanted to keep his loved ones a secret, but he definitely tried to keep a distance between his teaching life and his person life. But seeing as Maka and Keshi had just bridged that distance between the two worlds, Aizawa decided the only thing to do would be to introduce them. Lifting his son up and beckoning his daughter over he turned to the class, whose roaring mumbles trickled into dead silence. “Everyone, this is my daughter Keshi and my son Maka. Keshi, Maka say hello to my students.” “Daddy are these the future hero students?!” His daughter asked with wide excited eyes. His son simply stared in amazement as his tiny hand timidly waved out to the teenagers. “Yes, they are.” “Put me down! Put me down!” Maka said suddenly fighting out of his father’s embrace. Before he knew it, his son was running between the rows of desks eyeing every single student. Most of the guys chuckled at the little boy’s antics and answered any questions he had about their quirks while the girls were squealing over the chubby toddler. “Sorry daddy, mama was trying to talk with her friend Ms. Midnight and she told me to watch Maka but he ran off to your class.” Keshi explained to her dad with a guilty look. He placed a hand on the girl’s soft messy hair and smiled. “That’s okay. Where is your mother?” “Oh she-” “I’m gonna be a hero too!” A determined little voice bellowed out from near the back of the class. Aizawa saw his son’s eyes sparkling as he clenched his little fists and stared up at a certain green haired student with determination. “Look what my quirk does!” Father senses kicked in as his son removed the glove from his left hand and knelt down to the floor. He saw the tips of his marker-like fingers ready to press to the ground before raising his voice. “Don’t draw on the floor!” Too late. The class chuckled at the boy’s cute lumpy character, which he looked rather proud of as he stared at it. “Wow, so your hands are markers? That’s pretty nea-” Midoriya stopped speaking as the image on the ground began to twitch. The entire class including the kid’s father watched on in amazement as a little 2d creature sprung up from the drawing and began crawling around the classroom. The two-year-old simply giggled in delight before looking to his father for praise. Aizawa felt his throat tighten at seeing his son’s quirk manifest for the first time. His quirk, it was just like- “Holy shit! Get it off me!” The class laughed as the explosive blonde tried swiping at the thing that was crawling over his body before hoping off. He’d let out a sigh of relief before practically jumping at the sudden appearance of his teacher’s daughter before him. “What the hell do you wa-” “That was a naughty word.” With that a small hand reached up and rubbed across his lips quickly but softly. Pulling away, the class was momentarily horrified to see Bakugou’s mouth completely gone as if wiped away. The teen began clawing at his face before the missing body part slowly rematerialized. Small sparks shot from Bakugou’s palms as he glared at the little girl, only to be surprised when her face didn’t falter an inch. “Keshi, don’t use your quirk on my students. Apologize.” Aizawa’s voice came out quiet but firm. “Sorry.” The young girl said never breaking eye contact. “You don’t sound sorry at all.” Bakugou said leaning towards her. “Because I’m not.” She whispered with a smirk before walking back over to her father. “Creepy little brat. She’s too much like her dad.” “Mr. Aizawa, we had no idea you had a family!” Mina exclaimed as she took a wonky 2d flower from a blushing Maka. “And with such impressive quirks!” Iida exclaimed examining the kid’s finger pads. “They really are amazing.” Izuku mumbled, jotting away in his journal. He tapped his pen to his lips momentarily before a figurative lightbulb went off. “I got it! Maka’s quirk reminds me of the former pro-hero, Scribble!” “That would be me.” A sweet voice called out from the front of the classroom. A beautiful woman in a wheelchair made her entrance into the classroom ignoring the dumbfounded stare from Aizawa. “Forgive me for interrupting your instruction time. I should have kept better tabs on my kids.” The woman said bowing her head slightly to the whole class. “Class was about to end in a few minutes anyway.” Aizawa said still staring at the chair the woman was sitting in. “Mama look what I made!” Maka said running up to her, holding his strange sentient drawing. The woman smiled brightly as she held her arm out to hold it and of course the class couldn’t help but notice it then. Midoriya, having known the back story of many pro-heroes, already knew to expect it but the attitude in the room shifted to see this wheel-chair bound woman with only a single arm. Before she could admire the drawing any further, the object suddenly melted into a little pool of ink that stained the woman’s palm. “Sorry mama!” “That’s okay baby, you’re still learning!” Mina suddenly took out a sheet of paper and placed her flower drawing on it to catch any ink spillage. “Wow! Ma’am it’s so amazing to meet you! I remember watching you on the news a few times when I was younger!” Izuku said standing up to give the woman a proper bow. “Please dear, don’t flatter me so much. And none of this ma’am business, I’m only 27!” “Oh yes sorry Mrs. Aizawa!” Izuku said with a big smile not missing the falter in her teacher’s face as well as the woman’s. “Just (Y/N) will do.” She said with a small fake smile. “Ahem for those of you who don’t know. This is (L/N) (Y/N), known by her hero name as Scribble. She’s Keshi and Maka’s mother.” While all the students said their hellos there was no denying that they all caught the weird way Mr. Aizawa had introduced her. “Mama mama! I found two new girlfriends in this class!” Maka exclaimed jumping into his mother’s lap. “What, two?!” Mina exclaimed, hopping up from her seat. “Who’s my competition?!” Behind her Tsuyu hid her own flower and heart drawing in her backpack. As the older woman laughed the release bell rang and all the students began to gather their stuff. Finally casting him a glance the woman attempted to speak up before Aizawa beat her to it. “Care to tell me why you’re in a wheelchair?” His students had cleared out by now and he was ready to let his questions free. The woman gave him a blank stare before turning to her kids with a huge smile. “Why don’t you two go and visit Uncle Zashi?” “Uncle Zashi! Uncle Zashi!!” The two exclaimed excitedly before bolting out of the classroom. “Well if you must know, they found the same issues as they did before. I chose to try a limb sparing surgery. It means I’ll have to be off my legs for a while but at least I actually get to keep them.” The dark-haired male scoffed but felt his demeanor soften as he grew worried again. “You could have kept me updated.” He replied with a slight damper in his voice. “What for?” An awkward silence spread between the two in the empty room before he spoke up once more. “I got to see Maka’s quirk. When did that happen?” “Last weekend. I know you were busy with training and couldn’t pick the kids up. He’s been super excited to show you ever since.” “And you didn’t you call to tell me that because…?” (Y/N) looked down at the lone hand in her lap. Aizawa wanted nothing more than to take back that stupid question, he knew damn well why she didn’t want to talk about it. “It’s just like my quirk used to be.” (Y/N) finally responded with a hoarse voice. Looking up she had an unreadable expression. “This is a long weekend, right? I’ll pick the kids up Monday afternoon. We already put all their stuff on your desk in the teacher work room. I’ll see you in a few days, Aizawa.” The whirl of the wheelchair’s motor hummed through the air as his ex-wife made her way out of the classroom. Staring after her retreating figure, Aizawa couldn’t help but think about how this was the most they’ve spoken in a year. ~~~~~ “Grilled cheese with pickle?” Aizawa asked with a quirked brow at his daughter’s weird request. “Yeah lots of pickles!” Keshi said slapping her hands on the table. “No crusts!” “Alright then. For you, Maka?” “Grilled cheese with tomato! Extra cheese and extra crispy!” “That’s how your mom likes her sandwiches too.” He commented feeling his own words tug at his heartstrings. He noticed his kids’ confusion as he pulled out the toaster along with a box of toaster bags. They watched as he prepared their sandwiches to their requests, placed them in little baggies and put them in the toaster. “What are you doing daddy?” Maka asked looking up at his father expectantly. “Making grilled cheese.” “That’s not the way mama does it!” He said a bit perplexed by his father’s unorthodox methods. Hearing that, Aizawa had vivid flashbacks to when he and (Y/N) were freshly graduated from U.A. New and broke heroes, he remembered fondly the way she would stand over the stove grilling sandwiches for dinner. He could imagine her sitting on the counter wiping her mouth, asking why he was staring at her so intensely, never realizing how beautiful she looked doing even the most mundane things. “But we will like them anyway daddy!” Keshi spoke up noticing a sudden crestfallen look on his face. “Maaakaa you made daddy cry!” Aizawa’s head snapped up at that comment. Looking up at his children, the blurred vision let him know that his eyes had indeed been watering. Rubbing at them he turned to put in his eyedrops. “I sorry daddy! I will eat all your food because its good like mama’s! Don’t be sad!” “No, don’t worry. You didn’t make me sad, I promise.” “Then why are your eyes teary, daddy?” Keshi asked with a small frown. Running a hand through his hair, he figured at the very least his eldest would understand what he meant. “I miss mama.” He answered honestly. “Why don’t you come visit us at mama’s house sometime?” “I don’t think mama wants me there.” “But why not daddy? I was asking some of my classmates and they say their mommies and daddies live together so why do you and mama have different homes?” Aizawa held his breath as he racked his mind for a way to answer that question. He knew things like this would eventually pop up as his kids got older but he’d hoped it wouldn’t be for awhile longer. “Well because moms and dads only live together when they are married. Mama and I aren’t married. Besides I need to stay here for my students.” He answered firmly, hoping it would be enough to squash the conversation. Sure, enough his kids wouldn’t let it go so easy. “Then why don’t you marry mama? Like me daddy, I’m gonna marry Ms. Mina and Ms. Tsu!” Maka said with a replenished sparkle in his eye. This caused his father to let out a sincere chuckle and smile at his kids. “Yeah daddy! Marry mama! You can bring her flowers like Uncle Zashi!” Aizawa felt his spine go rigid at his daughter’s innocent comment. He looked between both kids who held clueless smiles. He always promised himself he would never use his children as a means to get information about his ex-wife. He’d felt it was a scummy thing to do but right now he already felt like scum. “When did Uncle Zashi bring mama flowers?” “When she was in the hospital! Grandma and grandpa took care of us while mama was getting her legs fixed but sometimes Uncle Zashi would pick us up and we’d go eat and he’d take us to see mama. Every time he would bring her lots of flowers and candies!” “He’d buy us candy too!” “Would he now?” Aizawa had every emotion he’d ever felt whirling around in him before he smiled. “That’s good, I’m glad he bought my babies some sweets too.” “I’m no baby!” Maka protested with a little pout, before scrunching up his tiny nose. “Daddy something smells bad.” Snapping out of the conversation and his thoughts, Aizawa noticed that the sandwiches had yet to pop out despite the amount of time. Sure enough the toaster had been set to max and grey smoke was beginning to rise from the machine and burnt sandwiches. Quickly unplugging the machine, Aizawa lifted the toaster and rushed to place it outside the teacher’s dorms with his kids following on his trail. “Why does the toaster even go that high?!” His daughter exclaimed, trying to fan the smoke out of the building. “A villain must have been behind it!” Maka added, nibbling on a slice of cheese he snagged from the counter. “Okay, well dad tried. Get ready, we’re going out to eat.” The kids raced back inside, cheering. “And please brush your hair, Keshi!” “Brush yours, daddy!” “That’s fair.” He watched as his kids scrambled to get ready and finally let his face fall. Throwing himself on the nearest chair, he gripped at the area right above his heart. While he sincerely doubted that (Y/N) was dating Yamada, he couldn’t help but come to terms with something he hadn’t quite faced yet. They’d been divorced for 2 and a half years now. Eventually, if she hadn’t already, (Y/N) would move on. Maybe she’d get remarried, have another child, move across the world to be with that person. And yet his life hadn’t moved an inch since their split. He hadn’t dated or even shown an interest in doing so and he truly didn’t believe he would. (Y/N) was the only woman he’d loved ever and even when the two were still together he’d always told her that would never change. All he wanted was for things to be the way they were before. He needed her back in his life and he’d tried in the past to show that to her. He called to ask how she was doing but she always steered the conversation back to the kids. He would offer her gifts, but she refused every single one or gave it to their babies. Simple conversation wasn’t something he could make with her anymore and it killed him. Now it would seem even his best friend was closer to her than he was. She was and always would be the love of his life, but one thing was obvious. She was over him now. ~~~~~ (Y/N) opened her eyes slowly. Glancing over at the clock she cursed her sleep schedule for waking her so early. Turning over she was met with an empty bed. A space a husband hadn’t filled in years but one her babies found themselves in most mornings. She really tried to get them to sleep in their own beds but by morning one or both of them wound up starfishing it on the mattress, leaving their mother to cling to the edge. But the weekends were like this…lonely…empty. She couldn’t find it in her to feel too sorry for herself. Aizawa, she figured, felt like this five days of the week compared to her two. At the very least she could say he had his students to distract him on those days. The weekends were too quiet. Everything that needed to be done for the next week was always already completed. Often times she couldn’t help but think how much more busy her life would have been if she had taken the job offer at Shiketsu, instead of the average middle school she worked at now. It had been a job with better pay, better benefits, and more prestige but it had been too far west for them to make it work. Being so far away Aizawa would never have been able to see Maka and Keshi. Maybe once a month, if they were lucky every OTHER weekend. But she could never do that to them…to any of them. He might have been a crappy husband, but he’d always been a great father, and (Y/N) would have never made it hard for him to see his kids. Finally hauling herself out of bed and into her wheelchair, the woman went into the bathroom to prepare for her day. Smiling to herself she scrolled through YouTube to play her baby’s favourite song while she got ready. “Baby shark dododododododo Baby shark!” Running the brush through her tangles, (Y/N) laughed to herself imagining Maka singing the song in his usual off tune voice. Her joyous moment was cut short by a bing on her phone. Putting the brush down she grabbed her cell and opened the message from her friend Yamada. She’d known him since they were all in school together and was glad her divorce never made it so that she couldn’t still be his friend. ‘Let’s grab dinner tonight!’ ‘Sure but let’s make sure it’s a place that serves alcohol. I need a drink!’ ‘Same! I’ll pick you up at 7:00!’ ‘…Remember when we used to head out at 11?’ ‘We’re getting old…’ ‘Speak for yourself! See you then.’ (Y/N) felt relief for having something to do. Her phone suddenly went off again, catching her attention once more. ‘And (Y/N)…leave the ring at home. You’ll never meet someone with it on.’ Sighing heavily, she didn’t even bother to answer. She knew her friend thought it was a security blanket but honestly it was just her first line of defense. She wasn’t interested in romance or being flirted with. Putting her old wedding ring on when she went out drinking helped deter even just a few people from approaching her. It had nothing to do with her ex-husband. When he left he didn’t take much with him, didn’t even ask for the ring back. She’d tried returning it in the past but he insisted he didn’t want it and it was hers now, to pawn or give to the kids when they were older. It mostly spent its time in her junk drawer with several other gifts he’d tried thrusting upon her within the past few years. Jewelry, concert tickets, gift cards, fine clothes, things she couldn’t give away to her kids sat collecting dust in there. For a while it had been a constant thing, confusing her to no end. Aizawa was someone she barely understood when times were good between them. So, when they went bad…boy did they go bad. Only recently had he stopped trying to give her things or prod Yamada for info on her, that he would run to tell her about. In some ways she was happy. The divorce had been hard and that had only made it harder. Maybe she was also happy for him, he’d clearly not been happy in the marriage. Even after it was over, his actions trying to get her attention made her think he still wasn’t. But now that it finally stopped she figured maybe he finally was happy. Maybe he was finally moving on. Which meant…she’d have to as well. Rolling into the living room, she was snapped out of her thoughts when her wheelchair went over a bump. Looking down her eyes widened. Leaning down she swiped the object off the floor before rushing to dial her ex on the phone. It rang for a bit before going off to voicemail. “Dammit. Aizawa, Keshi forgot her extra EpiPen here at my house. I know you’re really careful with her but I’m gonna take it to you in case of emergencies. I’ll be there soon!” All thoughts of her tragic love life or drinking tonight went out the window as the frantic mother grabbed her things before heading out to her car. ~~~~~ “Oh come on it’s not like I’m some kind of stalker! I’m here on official business!” “Why do I find that hard to believe?” Aizawa said to Emi as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Daddy who’s that at the door?” Maka said grinding his tiny fist into his eyes, mirroring his father. The green haired woman blinked at the child a few times before squealing in delight. “No way, is this your baby!?” Ms. Joke exclaimed crouching down to pinch at his chubby cheeks, much to Maka’s disapproval. “I know you mentioned you had been married and had some kiddos, but I never knew they were such little cuties!” “This is my son Maka and please don’t baby him like that. Maka this is daddy’s friend Ms. Emi.” Maka swatted at her hands that ruffled his bed head. Before he could control it, he began giggling. “Don’t use your quirk on my kid!” Aizawa scolded, his eyes now glowing red and hair floating around. Much to his surprise Maka didn’t stop giggling, looking more closely he saw Emi making funny faces at his youngest. Turning off his own quirk he sighed. “You look just like your dad! How old are you sweetie!?” “Two.” The boy said smiling, holding up two random nonconsecutive fingers. “How about in sixteen years we get married?!” The woman said playfully, holding her hands out to the small boys who eyed her up and down. “No, you’re too old. Besides I have two future wives waiting for me!” “Ouch, being rejected by your toddler hurt more than by you.” Ms. Joke chuckled in a half jest. “What can I say? He is my son after all. Is your sister still asleep?” Aizawa asked Maka, looking back into the bedroom. “Yup. Mama said she’d sleep through the end of the world if you let her.” Emi snorted a laugh before beaming up at Aizawa. “Like father like kids huh?” “I guess. Would you like to join us for breakfast in the common area?” Aizawa asked begrudgingly. “I’d love to!” Emi responded quickly bouncing on her toes. “We can go over the paperwork my school sent your way.” “I wake up Keshi, daddy?” “No, let her sleep in for a few more hours. What do you feel like eating this morning?” The black-haired male asked looking down at the young boy who in turn stared down at his own little sock covered feet. “I not hungry, daddy.” “Really why not? Mama said you’ve been eating a lot in the morning.” When Maka had no response, Emi giggled into her palms. “Uh oh is daddy’s cooking that bad?” “It’s not and refrain from calling me ‘daddy’ if you don’t mind.” “What if I make breakfast for you guys?! After all you are doing me a huge favour by completing this paperwork so early in the morning! How about pancakes?” “Yeah!” Maka cheered suddenly running to cling onto the bottom of Ms. Joke’s shorts. “Please daddy?” The little boy pleaded putting on his glossiest puppy eyes. “Yeah pllleease daddy?” The cheerful woman said teasingly, hoisting the young boy up onto her hip. “Ugh fine. Just don’t put any c-h-o-c-o-l-a-t-e in it because Maka gets hyper. And definitely no berries, Keshi is severely allergic. Which reminds me, Maka where is her pen?” “Mama put it in the paw patrol packpack.” “Alright, be good with Ms. Emi while I look for it okay?” “Okay daddy. Come on Memi!” Maka exclaimed pushing out of her hold and tugging on her hand to lead the way. “Memi? How cute!” Soon enough the seafoam haired woman was flipping hot pancakes on the stove catching Maka observing her carefully from the corner of her eyes. He had been informing her about his favourite shows and YouTube videos while she listened intently, nodding and humming in acknowledgement. Aizawa had still yet to join them, she figured he was having a hard time finding his daughter’s EpiPen. In the back of her mind she couldn’t help but vaguely imagine that this would be her life if she ever got the chance with Aizawa. “Here you go love.” Emi said placing a single large pancake onto the boy’s awaiting plate. Gingerly she drizzled thin lines of syrup not wanting to get the kid too hyper. She watched in amusement as he attempted slicing the pancake, poking and mushing it down with his fork. When all else failed she witnessed him lift the entire thing with his hands and bring it to his mouth to take a chomp out of it. “Woah woah here let me cut it for you!” Maka placed the pancake down before something across the room caught his eye. Emi saw his eyes light up as the little boy went running. “Mama mama!” Ms. Joke turned to the entrance only to see a worried looking woman come in on a motorized chair. She watched Maka barrel towards her before flinging himself into her lap. “Hi my baby!” The woman said, squeezing her son with her one arm. “We are going home now?” “Not yet sweetheart, Keshi just forgot her medicine at home. Eww why are your hands so sticky?” The boy’s mother asked with a chuckle. “Syrup. Memi made me pamcake.” “Memi?” (Y/N) questioned finally looking up at the attractive woman now standing only a few feet away. “Hi, I’m Emi Fukukado.” She said holding out a hand to shake only to feel like an asshole when she realized the woman was missing the proper arm to offer. She dropped the gesture right away and noticed a bright smile come onto the woman’s face. “Ahh yes the prohero Ms. Joke correct? I believe you used to work near Maka’s father? I’m (Y/N) (L/N), the mother.” Ms. Joke’s mouth formed into a soft ‘o’ shape. Aizawa had always spoken of a wife since they’d known each other. She’d also known of the pro hero Scribble, whose hero career was cut tragically short. But she’d never known they were one in the same. “She’s daddy’s friend, mama.” Maka offered with a smile. “Daddy said to call her Memi.” “Sounds kind of like mommy, huh?” (Y/N) said ruffling her boy’s hair only for Emi’s heart to sink into her stomach. “I think he’s just having trouble with my name. Aizawa and I are-” “Oh here do you mind giving this to him? It’s Keshi’s EpiPen, she’s allergic to-” “Berries! Yeah Aizawa had been looking everywhere for this! I’ll be sure to give it to him right away!” (Y/N)’s smile faltered slightly before sighing and kissing Maka on the forehead, placing him down on the ground. “Alright baby, mama has to go now.” Maka began to whine slightly. His watery eyes were hard to ignore. “I go with you!” “Don’t you want to stay with daddy?” “Yes, but wanna go with you too!” The little boy hiccupped with tears running down his chubby cheeks. “Don’t leave! I wanna be with you AND daddy!” Emi felt her heartstrings constrict tightly like a violin. Aizawa never told her anything about his ex-wife so she couldn’t pretend to know the whole story. But it was obvious the young boy was struggling with the divorce in a way he couldn’t articulate. Leaning down to lift up the black-haired child Emi smoothed her hand over his head and shushed him. He rested his head on her shoulder taking in shaking breaths, clearly trying to calm himself. Her hand rubbed circles into his back soothingly, but his breathing was still ragged. “Hey come on, I’m sure mama is really busy! Your dad has the best time when you’re here! Maybe when Keshi get’s up we can go to the park!” He was shaking his head while his wails now verged onto hysteric levels. Emi was beginning to panic and was about to place the child in his mother’s waiting embrace before he began pushing out of her arms, kicking and grabbing for his mother to pick him up. “No! Mama! Mama! Go with you and daddy!” “Emi, what did you do to Maka? Why is he crying like that?” Aizawa said suddenly appearing from his bedroom looking disheveled. His eyes found the two women and child right away, widening when he processed the image before him. Speeding walking up to them he took Maka from his colleague quickly. “(Y/N), I didn’t know you were coming. Is everything okay?” The disheveled man attempted to smooth down his crazy hair with his one free hand while patting his still sobbing son. Of course (Y/N) looked fucking gorgeous this early in the morning and he looked like a hungover swap rat. “I called but I suppose you were busy. Fukukado said you were looking for Keshi’s EpiPen, but the kids may have knocked it out of the bag. I decided to bring it over and now that Maka is calming down I’ll be going.” Aizawa looked at the child in his arms who was now drifting back to sleep. Taking a few quick steps towards his ex he attempted to reach a hand out to her shoulder and wasn’t at all surprised when she pulled back. Didn’t mean it hurt any less though. “Would you like to stay and chat? We can have breakfast or coffee.” He offered feeling the heavy tension in the room as Ms. Joke shifted her weight and averted her eyes. “Thank you for the offer but I wouldn’t want to intrude. Besides I have plans for tonight that I need to get ready for. Bye Fukukado. Aizawa.” The dark-haired male watched as the woman made her way out the building. Why the hell hadn’t he charged his phone last night? Why did he have to be busy when she came? Why did Emi have to be here? He knew that (Y/N) probably assumed she was his lover and it shouldn’t matter…but deep down he didn’t want her to think that. “Hey, I’m really sorry Eraser.” Emi whispered, finally speaking up. “Just sign the paper for me and I’ll be out of here.” Breathing out a huge sigh, Aizawa walked back to his room to lay Maka in bed next to his sister. Smoothing his black hair out of his face he turned to his colleague with a small smile. “Why don’t you stay and have breakfast with me? I wouldn’t want your cooking to go to waste.” Ms. Joke seemed surprised but nodded eagerly, following the tired man out of the room. Though the experience was much more awkward than she had anticipated. Aizawa was silently eating his breakfast and sipping a glass of juice. He wasn’t trying to make conversation and Emi figured he was too deep in thought to hold one she started. That’s when she noticed it, a small sparkle around his neck. Whatever was on the end of his necklace was carefully tucked away into his black shirt. If she looked closely enough, she could make out a circular pattern pushing through. He didn’t seem the type to wear jewelry, so she felt comfortable making the assumption she was about to voice. “I guess that’s why I still don’t have a chance with you huh?” “What?” “I mean I knew back when you were married that you were 100% loyal but even now I’ll never have a chance. And that’s because you’re still in love with your ex-wife.” “Don’t psychoanalyze my situation.” “Oh come on I’ve known you for years and I’ve never seen your eyes light up the way they did when you saw (Y/N). When you talk about your kids sure, but that’s a different kind of sparkle. Then I saw you trying to fix your appearance up for her, last time you did that was for the sake of U.A because you’d be on national television.” Reaching across the table Ms. Joke tugged on the chain around his neck that sent a wedding ring flying out of his shirt. She watched him glance down at the low swinging object not verbally confirming anything. “You wear your old wedding ring around your neck. I know I come on really strong all the time but as a friend I want to know what happened? Why did she divorce you?” Aizawa fiddled with the gold band, glancing between the woman in front of him and his plate. Having been divorced for what would soon be 3 years, he hadn’t had to tell this story in a long time. And even then, only so many people knew the details. “I was the one who asked for the divorce.” He noticed Emi raise her eyebrows in shock, but she gave no response and waited for him to continue. “It’s a really long-winded story but to put it shortly, I made a decision for her and she didn’t agree with it and we just couldn’t be together after.” “I’m going to need more than that. Does…does it have anything to do with the incident that made her retire? I mean the press talked about it like a tragic decision she had to make for her family’s sake. She was only 23 and to be retired that shortly after debuting...” “She was gonna be big. Her name would have been up there with some of the greatest. I was so sure of it. Her rank was moving fast, her quirk was amazing. Hell, even after having Keshi so young, she was back out there… It wasn’t my decision to make, I know that, but I did.” “Sho, calm down love. You already upset Keshi with all that screaming outside.” (Y/N) said swinging her legs from the high examination table as they waited for the doctor. “You were at an elementary school for god’s sakes. It was supposed to be simple and easy, you just broke that arm and to rebreak it? Where the hell was Mic?” “Babe he was right there giving the presentation with me, you already interrogated him in the waiting room. A seven-year-old lost control of their quirk for a split second. I’m fine, it hurts like a bitch but I’m okay. Come here.” Aizawa shuffled over to his wife and allowed her to pull his head to her chest as she stroked his hair. He could feel her laying soft kisses on the top of his head. His eyes snapped open when he felt her tracing a pattern on his back. He knew she was drawing on the back of his shirt but didn’t pull away. “Love don’t move that arm.” “Come on, it’s already all cast up.” A loud meow filled the room and with a sudden kick off from his back Aizawa turned to see a plump chalk outlined cat sitting on the ground licking itself. He reached down to pick it up and touched its fur, if he didn’t look at it he would think he was holding the actual animal. “Mr. and Mrs. Aizawa?” A sudden voice echoes into the room. (Y/N) took her opposite uninjured hand and swiped it over the cat, erasing it from her husband’s arms. “Took you long enough. How is my wife’s arm? Will it have permanent damage because she had already broken it recently? Why did you have to run so many tests?” “To have the same bone broken twice, we were admittedly worried. Well we ran some scans of your body we noticed two separate things that need to be addressed. One possibly good and the other potentially very bad.” (Y/N) and Aizawa looked at each other with a slight bit of worry. “I guess we’ll hear the bad first.” Both watched as the doctor placed images on the lit board in the room. He pointed at a dozen or more milky dots littering her humerus. The big words he was using were flying over (Y/N)’s head while Aizawa seemed to be clinging to his every one of them. Finally, a certain word stuck out. “Wait, tumor?” “Tumors. All of these dots in the scan, we are unsure if they are benign or malignant at this point.” “Malignant? What you mean like cancer? You think I have bone cancer?” Her voice asked timidly only for her husband to grab her good hand and give it a slight squeeze. “We don't want to say that just yet but on first glance it doesn't look good. Have you been experiencing unexplained pain in that arm?” “No I-“ “Well wait yes she was complaining about a dull ache for almost half a year now.” Aizawa interrupted suddenly. (Y/N) shot him a look but he paid her no mind. “But I use my arm a lot in hero work so I'm sure it's just soreness!” “And your friend Mr. Hizashi informed us that the child merely bumped you when your arm broke? Such little force to cause a break is-” “Well he was kind of far! I don't think he saw properly! That kid had a strength quirk, so he could have put a lot of force-” “(Y/N) it's okay.” Her husband said grabbing her face gently and pressing his forehead to hers. When she’d finally calmed down he pulled away and looked at the doctor. “Okay so let's assume the worst. If it is bone cancer how do we...what do we do next? How do we treat that?” “Normally in the case of a single malignant tumour we can perform an extraction in the target area only. However, in this case, there are nearly a dozen tumours in her humerus. It would likely be advised to perform a full amputation of the limb.” “No! No no no I can't let you do that! My quirk is activated with this arm! Look see my chalk tips?! Without this arm I have no quirk!” “Yes, we've been made aware. In any other case we would suggest chemotherapy or radiation. That wouldn't be the best treatment but it would be another option.” “Then we'll do that!” “Here is where a problem may lie. The other thing our test showed was that you are currently pregnant.” The room went silent. The hands that had been clasping each other slightly went slack. Clearing her throat, (Y/N) had to restate what she just heard to be sure it was actually what was said. “Me? I'm pregnant? We're having another baby?” “Yes. Now it would seem you are very early in your pregnancy. That doesn't mix well with the other options.” “You mean it could hurt the baby?” “It's possible. Chemo is a risk to the fetus in the first trimester. Radiation is a risk up until delivery. If you choose to carry to term, amputation would be your best option.” “Well we aren't aborting, right?” Aizawa asked, looking to his wife for approval and saw her nod in agreement. “So, we only have one option.” “Amputation.” “No treatment.” Both spouses looked at the other as if they’d gone absolutely insane. “What do you mean 'no treatment'? That wasn’t an option.” Aizawa was the first to speak up. “Well I'm making it one. If we choose not to treat what would happen?” “Well you'd have the same symptoms as now, pain brittle bones but eventually if we fear the worst the cancer could metastasize. If that happens it will be much harder to get rid of.” “What are the chances of it metastasizing within 9 months?” “With how many tumours and depending on how bad it is the chances are not in your favour.” “Okay so here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna hold off for a few months until it's safe to start chemo, then we do that. Once I have the baby we can do radiation. But I'm not risking my baby or my hero career.” “So, you’ll risk your life?” Aizawa asked finally letting go of her hand entirely. “I will be fine for a few months. Everything will be okay love. I promise.” “But it wasn’t, I’m assuming?” Ms. Joke asked interrupting Aizawa’s thousand-yard stare. “She’d always been so stubborn. Who the hell even fights crime while pregnant? She took on jobs up until Keshi was born and intended to do so with Maka. I kept telling her to stop, especially with her conditions. She always wanted to save everyone but what about herself? So, I get a call one day that she’d been hurt by a villain, really badly, blood everywhere.” Aizawa took in a few shallow breaths. He could still remember the frantic call from Midnight. He was still hearing (Y/N)’s screams of agony, the very same arm completely shattered from fingertip to shoulder. Her x-rays were like nothing he’d ever seen, her bones had been splintered into something that he would no longer call bones. Mic had been holding Keshi, looking just as nervous. When (Y/N) had lost consciousness from the pain her decision now became his. “The doctors told me they could reset everything back in place. That it wouldn’t be easy but it was possible. Yet in the back of my mind not a day had gone by since she’d gotten the news, that I didn’t wish she’d chosen to not take any risks. So, as her medical proxy, I approved the amputation.” Emi gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. She knew it was a hard decision and she would never sit there and judge him. But she couldn’t imagine waking up suddenly quirkless, having someone take the decision away from you. To know that everything you worked for suddenly came to a dead halt. “She didn’t even need to be told it was me. When she woke up and found out what happened she cried. I mean she sobbed, we couldn’t even bring Keshi in there because we knew it would upset her. When she finally calmed down and she told she’d never forgive me.” “So how were you the one who ended up asking for a divorce?” “I stayed by her side for a few months. But I would always catch these looks she’d give me when she thought I wasn’t looking. Looks as if she hated me, as if she was struggling to even be around me. Things weren’t the same after that, she wasn’t affectionate, and we didn’t talk like we used to. I didn’t want to keep her in a marriage she wasn’t happy in, so I filed for divorce a few months before Maka was born.” “Hmm don’t take offense to this but that’s kind of a dick move.” Aizawa’s head snapped up, not expecting to hear something like that from Ms. Joke. She noticed the look on his face and held her hands up in defense. “Don’t get me wrong, I know it must have been difficult in a way I could never imagine but I can’t help to think of her side you know? I mean in less than a year you find out you have cancer, lose your quirk and your job, then lose your husband all while being pregnant with his child. You gave her a few months to process something that probably would have taken ten times longer.” “I didn’t want her to be upset.” “Or did you not want her to be upset with you? I know it was hard on you, to think that your wife hates you. Now imagine that feeling times two because I bet that’s what she was going through. To me it sounds like you hated that your wife didn’t idolize you anymore. You hated that you gave her a reason to rightfully be upset with you…so you left.” “Yeah well who asked you?” Aizawa mumbled looking into his cup. “No one but if you did ask me, I would tell you that I think she still loves you too. I think if given the chance she would take you back.” “Huh well as usual, you’re wrong.” “Hmm why do you say that?” “I’ve given her chances to take me back. Chances to even just talk to me but she shoots down every single one. If anything, giving these ‘chances’ have only made things worse. Maybe a year ago when I was living at my old apartment, while the kids were sleeping…we spent a night together. I hadn’t been with her or anybody since we split, and I thought I finally had her back. But when I woke up she’d already left. We’d been MARRIED and she treated me like a one-night stand.” Emi could hear how hard it was for him to talk about this, how uncomfortable he was. She didn’t pry yet he continued on. “I tried talking to her about it and I realized that she could separate sex and love as two different things. I couldn’t and didn’t want it to happen again. Really it just severed us even more.” “Hmm this is a tricky situation. I’m 99% sure she’s still in love with you. She looked super jealous when she saw me in here with Maka.” “Of course, but that’s because you were holding her baby, it had nothing to do with me.” “I don’t think so. This wasn’t motherly instinct anger, this was ‘back off my man’ anger. Hmm well this is gonna sound stupid, but did you ever tell her you were sorry for what happened.” “I’m sorry for the consequences but I’m not sorry for the decision I made.” “Did you ever tell her you were sorry for how you made her feel?” The silence between the two was enough of an answer. Emi sighed but smiled at her friend. “Even if it’s years late…say you’re sorry. Tell her you’re in love with her and never stopped being. Tell her how much you want her back and pray it all works out.” Aizawa looked deeply into the woman’s eyes before letting out a short sigh and averting his eyes back onto his plate. “And if she does turn you down…well I’m always available for a date. I’m good with kids and cats!” This got a surprisingly genuine laugh from the man, startlingly Ms. Joke more than anything had that morning. “I know you are, Emi.” ~~~~~ “It’s not fair Yamada! She was so hot!” (Y/N) whined like a teenager as she took another gulp of her drink. “You’ve been hung up on Ms. Joke for the past 4 hours. Do you want to date her or be her?” “Yes!” The two giggled stupidly as (Y/N) appreciated the loud noises of the bar they were in. She was more grateful than ever that Yamada was able to meet tonight and get her mind off things. “Besides why does it bother you so much?” “Because my ex is moving on to bigger and better things. Career wise and in his love life. Yet here I am still stuck in my same old routine. My life has only gone downhill since the split.” “I told you, you shouldn’t have let the divorce go through. You should have taken those divorce papers and ripped them right in front of his face.” “Then Aizawa would have stayed miserable married to me.” “Fuck him!” “Ugh god I wish. I would take another session with him in a heartbeat. How does he manage to look even better than when we were in high school? While I got this mom body to deal with.” “Shut up, you’re still hot.” “You only say that cause you haven’t seen the real story! Clothes can hide a lot!” “Can’t hide everything. (Y/N), you’re a milf if I’ve ever seen one!” (Y/N) choked on her drink before busting out laughing. “Dude shut the hell up, you have to say that because you’re my friend!” “What? I’m just letting you know if you weren’t my best friend’s ex-wife, you’d be my current wife! Look don’t take my word for it. Hey c’mere!” The loud blonde called out to some random guy walking by. “Yamada stop!” (Y/N) urged all while stifling a giggle. After enough arm flailing, the stranger made his way over to the couple of tipsy friends. “If given the opportunity would you or would you not take my friend to the nearest hotel and have kinky sex with her all night?” “Yamada!” “Hell yeah, if she’s offering!” “See I told you, you still got it.” Yamada said with a cocky smirk before his face faltered as a strong set of hands began messaging his shoulders. “What about you, beautiful? You can join us too. Make it a really fun night.” (Y/N) let out a hysterical giggle as the man blew air onto her friend’s ear and he instantly recoiled with a girlish scream. “Sorry I don’t have enough alcohol in my system for that!” “Well how much more do you think it will take?” The stranger said reaching into his wallet. “A few drops short of alcohol poisoning! Come on (Y/N), let’s go!” (Y/N) continued to laugh as she wheeled out after her bolting friend. Once they were a few feet away from the bar, the blonde man turned to his friend with a pout. “It’s not funny!” “You should have gone for him he wasn’t bad.” “Yeah well my standards go a little higher than ‘not bad’. Besides that man wanted to ravish me, take away my innocence!” “Your innocence!? Bitch please, if you’re innocent then I’m a virgin!” “Rude! You make me seem like a cheap slut.” Her friend pouted slightly. “Aww no come on. You’re an expensive slut! All someone has to do is mention how much they love your radio show and boom you’re waking up in a stranger’s bed.” Hizashi did chuckle a bit at the truth behind that statement. He’d gone out with (Y/N) enough times for her to see his patterns of casual flings. Which in mentioning only made him curious. “I do tend to get pretty sidetracked when we go out like this. What happens to you? Do you ever find anyone that catches your interest?” (Y/N) slowly stopped laughing and began wheeling towards the park across the street. Not leaving her friend hanging she just sort of shrugged her shoulders. “Not really.” “So…have you BEEN WITH anyone since you got divorced? Besides of course that time you used Aizawa.” The blonde threw his hands up in defense when he saw the woman shoot him an icy glare. “I didn’t use him okay. He wanted it just as much as I did, he just had to go and make things weird after. And to answer your question…yes I have been with other people.” “Oh yeah? How many?” “Like one practically every weekend the kids are with their father.” “Shiiiiit and you’re calling me the slut? How come I’ve never gotten a turn?” “Because Aizawa would string you up to the tallest tower in Japan.” “Wait so you score a new body each week and you still think you’re not attractive? Biiitch you were just fishing for compliments at this point.” “Yeah well if I’m so hot how come Aizawa didn’t want me?” Hizashi stopped walking and watched his friend carry on. Very rarely did she speak about her feelings on the divorce in this manner. No matter how drunk he got her, her confessions were always full of comical anger or humorous self-deprecation. She never said anything so serious. “Didn’t want you? You’re joking right? You know that man has been pining for you since highschool and kicked it into overdrive the past three years. I’ve told you all this before. I know you don’t like to mention it but you can talk to me about this you know? It’s been a long time…don’t you think it’s time to talk about it with someone?” “Whatever, people pinning over others don’t divorce their pregnant wives. They don’t break apart their families. They don’t make life changing decisions for the other knowing damn well its not what they want. They don’t ruin everything you ever worked for! I worked hard to have a nice family and be this great hero and he took it all away from me.” (Y/N) stopped her wheelchair and wiped at her damp eyes. “He took everything from me, and he never even apologized for it.” “Would you have forgiven him even if he did?” Hizashi said kicked at the rock on the sidewalk. “Because from what I remember, you told him the opposite. But I don’t think your deal is forgiving him, it’s about forgiving yourself.” “What the hell do I have to forgive myself for?” “For almost hurting your family more than he did.” Hizashi sighed before plopping on the park bench. “You’ve always been a proud girl and if I had half your power or charisma, I would have been the same. It made you a great hero, but it also made you a pain in the ass. (Y/N), there was no perfect ending to your situation. Aizawa knew that no matter what someone was going to lose something.” “Yeah well why did it have to be me who lost everything? And why did he get to decide that?” “Because you didn’t lose everything and he’s the reason you didn’t. Remember when you came into that hospital completely broken, they told you Maka was in distress. There was so much going on and another incident like that… Aizawa made the choice for him to lose you so that he could keep Maka and so Maka could keep you. You both could have died or just Maka or just you. His reason for leaving you was selfish but not his reason for choosing what he did.” (Y/N) continued to let the hot tears stream down her face as she took in her friend’s words. “I know you were hurt. I know he made a mistake not talking it over with you more. And he made an even bigger one by being a coward and running instead of sticking with you. But (Y/N) you got to let him make mistakes because he let you make yours.” “What good does any of that do me now? It’s been years and the things I’ve said to him…the way I treated him. He’d never wait so long just off hope alone.” “I don’t think that man could give up on you if he tried. Talk to him and if things don’t go the way you want, I would make an excellent step-dad!” “Stupid!” ~~~~~ “Mama’s gonna be maaaaad!” Maka sing-songed as his father’s heart pounded hard. “Yeah mad at daddy!” Keshi mocked shaking her head to feel her newly shortened hair sway back and forth. “You know better than to fall asleep with gum in your mouth.” Aizawa said fruitlessly attempting to smooth down her tangled bob. “How the hel-heck is your hair still a mess even this short?” “Well like father like daughter no?” The familiar voice came from the doorway. “Mama!” Keshi and Maka called out in unison as they ran over to the smiling woman. She ran her hand through the young girl’s short hair. “I’m sorry (Y/N). One of my students gave her bubblegum and she napped with it and it ended up in her hair and-” “I think it’s lovely. Very cute and accentuates those beautiful sleepy eyes of yours.” Aizawa couldn’t help but blush. He knew she was referring to their daughter but everyone had always said he and Keshi shared the same tired eyes. “We are very sorry ma’am!” A blonde boy said looking just a bit nervous. “We gave her some gum without asking.” (Y/N) was surprised by the small gaggle of apologetic boys standing behind her family and smiled. Knowing Aizawa, he had probably forced them to come and apologize to her. The thought made her giggle slightly. “But you’re right! She does look really cute with that haircut!” Kaminari offered rubbing his palm across the girl’s head, static electricity making it fluff up. The girl’s cheeks puffed in anger as she pulled away from him. “She’s too young for you, go away.” Aizawa said his hair slowly floating. “W-what!? That’s not what I meant!” “Hey be careful this guy’ll fall for anyone whose nice to him.” Kirishima said slinging an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Well then I will have to be mean to him!” Keshi mumbled running to bury her pink face in her father’s leg. “Besides I like Shiso bestest. He reminds me of daddy!” “It’s Shinsou. Shiso is a type of plant.” “The kid from the Sports Festival?” (Y/N) asked Aizawa who nodded quickly. “The resemblance is uncanny. When I saw him on T.V I was sure I was looking at an old high school photo of yours. I almost thought maybe you had a secret love child you never told me about.” The woman teased. Todoroki’s eyes widened and his lips parted to speak before Midoriya gently placed a hand in front of his mouth. “We should probably get going now so you can get situated.” Iida spoke up, ushering his classmates out the door. “Mama you aren’t mad at daddy, are you?” Maka asked sweetly. “Of course not baby, hair grows back.” “Then he can come live with us and you two can get married?” The young boy asked hopefully, making Aizawa’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. Leave it to a toddler to have the attention span of a ferret when you need him to remember something and then to spill every detail to your ex-wife that you figured he would have forgotten. “Go on daddy, tell mama that you miss her!” His daughter urged pulling his fingers towards his wife and son. “Keshi, that’s enough. Go take Maka and both of you go potty before you get in the car.” Both kids seemed to be visibly disappointed that nothing seemed to change but did as their father told them. (Y/N) watched as their little bodies turned the corner and against her better judgment looked up at Aizawa. “(Y/N) I didn’t put them up to that or anything. I would never use our kids to guilt you and I ju-” “I know, Sho.” She hadn’t called him that nickname in years. He missed it even though he’d told her how much he hated it when they were together. “And when you came over and saw Ms. Joke. She and I aren’t dat-” “It’s really none of my business.” “Well it is because you need to know who’s around our babies. I’m not dating anyone, she’s just a colleague.” “I see…I’m not dating anyone either. Not even Yamada, he told me you were worried about that. I would never do that to you, you know…date your best friend.” “You’ve never even thought about it?” “You got me there. I can’t lie. He’s attractive and attentive and great with our kids but when I look at him all I see is you. If I wanted him, I would’ve chosen him back in highschool.” Aizawa was staring at the woman in awe. She was speaking with him like a normal person. There was no ill intended sarcasm or strained disinterest. He didn’t know why it was happening but he figured it didn’t matter either way. Getting onto his knees so he would be level with her eyes, Aizawa placed his hand on her knee. The young woman looked taken aback but didn’t move away or push him off. “(Y/N), I can sit here and blame you for never getting to do this. To imply that you never gave me the chance to say it would be wrong because I had three years to tell you and it shouldn’t have taken me this long to make it happen. I am so sorry for what I did to you. You needed me and I left you. I saw everything you were losing, and I didn’t stop and think that I shouldn’t let you lose me too.” The woman almost looked like she wanted to cry before scoffing and turning her head. “Idiot. None of us lost anything important. I lost a job but I found another. I lost a quirk but I found it again through Maka. Our children are both alive and happy. If anything all we lost was us…our marriage.” “This was the only way I was willing to lose you and I knew I would. I wasn’t going to let you die. I could stand to lose you as a wife but I couldn’t stand for the kids to lose their mother.” “I know. If you had a chance to go back and do things over would you have changed any of it?” “Any of it? Yeah, I would. After I made the decision, I never would have left you. You needed time and I didn’t give it to you. I’d have given you the world. But if you’re asking if my decision would have been different…no. I could live my life a thousand times and I would always choose to make that call.” “I see…” “I guess that’s not exactly what you wanted to hear.” “Well-” “We’re ready momma! Let’s go get food!” Maka said barreling into his mom’s lap. “What? Food? You little piggies are always eating! But I suppose we can grab something to eat before we head home.” “Yay! We say bye to daddy now?” Maka asked looking just a little sad. (Y/N) looked into those bright round eyes and pressed her lips to the child’s forehead before smiling brightly. “Why don’t you ask daddy if he would like to have dinner with us?” Aizawa’s head snapped up in disbelief. “Yes daddy please come eat with us!!!” His kids said now crowding around him. Looking up (Y/N) was smiling at the image of her children and their father together. “Wahhh! Daddy why are you crying now?” Keshi called him out immediately, only for the man to laugh and wipe at his eyes. “I would love to come have dinner with you guys.” “And then you come live with us? Or we live here with you!” Maka exclaimed excitedly. “One step at a time, kid.” “Come on daddy! I will race you and Maka to the car!” Keshi called out already making a bolt for the car with Maka trailing behind her. “Hurry up or you’ll lose.” “No, I don’t think I will.”

#aizawa #shota aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa scenerio #mha aizawa #mha scenarios #mha #mha x reader #bnha scenario #bnha #bnha x reader #x reader #readerinsert #x s/o

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bogkeep · 3 years ago

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I have an important question regarding Sevilsoleia! How was a suitable vessel decided? Is there anything in common with the, vessels they inhabited? Or did the vessels volunteer themselves or were they chosen?

OKAY SO......... okay so uh big disclaimer that iphimery is just a fun oc sandbox that i'm deliberately NOT turning into a writing/webcomic project or anything, like i MIGHT create stuff for it, but it's meant to be just this fun zone where i am not putting ANY pressure on myself to actively work out every aspect of the story or the worldbuilding. the reason for this is that i'm no good at active worldbuilding, and the idea of having to think every single detail and consequence through and through is very stressful to me and tends to halt my creative outlet. WHICH IS TO SAY i'm just making stuff up as i go. almost all of the ideas i get for this world or the characters happen almost accidentally - either because there's a specific trope or aesthetic i want to include, or because i buy a character design or dig up an old OC and just want to give them a place to live, and by adding them i add a new piece of the puzzle. but it is still very much a work in progress, and the lore might change down the road! here are the factors behind Swivel's existence from my narrative level: - timian, from the moment he existed, had to have a Repressed Trauma Tragic Backstory which would preferably include dead family members, survivor's guilt, being an incredibly proficient fighter, and an immense need to protect e v e r y o n e and put other people's needs above his own. think gregor hartway and kaladin stormblessed. - the concept of an android that can use her chestplate as a shield while exposing her core is something i doodled ages ago, but never found anywhere to include. UNTIL NOW. i had already decided to link her to Florence, and then i linked Florence to Iphimery, and then i just wanted to make her relevant to the "main story," as it were. all of this was in the slow cooker of my brain for a pretty long time. the fact that i realized florence is timian's uncle who immigrated to iphimery ages ago is also a fairly New idea. - i've also tried to think about the vibe of timian's hometown. i needed it to be a place that wasn't super big, in a way that most everyone knows everyone else to some degree, and i wanted it to have some kind of Tradition deep in its bones as well, that would be relevant to WHY disaster befell this town at all. at some point i got the idea that the main export of Sevilder is medicine made by local flora & resources, and a process that was a guarded tradition. this could explain why anyone would attack such a small town and why so much was sacrificed for it all. (just for funsies: in the modern setting, Sevilder is very traditional and religious - Sevilsoleia is worshipped and heeded as a deity, but they don't have a physical presence like in the fantasy setting! both the town and timian's family survive just fine, and timian moves to iphimery to attend the university. his backstory here is far less tragic, but he has an arc about coming from a small, tight-knit town with all the pros and cons that entails, and finding his place in a vast and messy metropolis. it's a story about exploring your identities and your wants while also reshaping and reaffirming your relationship with your religion and culture and traditions.) ALL OF THIS funneled into the Obviously Very Logical And Intuitive Plot Decision that "timian fable was the chosen guardian for the godly vessel that was his younger sister, rocks fall everyone dies except timian who carries the trauma with him for the rest of his life :)" so uh none of this has answered your actual question. mostly because it's a piece of worldbuilding i haven't had the chance to actually piece together yet. i can probably say that since the town wasn't The Biggest Town Ever, there weren't THAT many vessels to pick from for each generation. i do think Swivel ended up having a preference for what kind of people they liked working together with and that they thought were worthy of wielding their power and keep their knowledge. so there's probably several factors: - the family of the vessel, what their work was, their social status, etc., mostly relating to like, how close they are to the Tradition of sevilder, right - the willingness and determination of the potential vessel, like you can absolutely argue that even if a child is 10000% wanting to become a godly vessel, it's stilla choice they are making as a CHILD, so the ethical concerns around consent are. they're there. that's the narrative point here - ""pure of heart"" type bullshit. again, it's a child, this whole concept is Flawed and Weird and i want to poke holes at it - it probably doesn't have to be a child, but it's usually young people so swivel doesn't have to jump between old people super frequently (although they've probably tried lots of things over the centuries) i'm sure there's MANY MORE factors involved, including sevilder tradition lore that hasn't dropped yet. this question would be equally interesting about "how are the Chosen Protectors picked?" regarding how timian came to be who he came to be. i still haven't decided how much is Ancetral Duty, and how much is "im volunteering to protect my sister NO MATTER WHAT", or if it is traditional for siblings. stay tuned, i suppose!!!!

#iphimery #swivel

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pilyarquitect · 3 years ago

Text

"What makes you good enough?"

It took me a lot of time to have this done. Life become extremely busy for me, and also, I've an uncle who died very recently, he was married and had 10 children.

************************************

Heinz Doofenshmirtz would lie if he said he wasn’t nervous.

He was nervous, extremely nervous!

His daughter, his little girl was about to arrive with a boy she hoped he’ll approve to be her boyfriend. Actually, this was the boy’s idea, since he insisted, he wanted the father’s permission to date Vanessa.

Doof felt honored to hear the potential Vanessa’s boyfriend wanted to ask his permission to date her. That was more than what any other boyfriend his daughter had had ever done. Also, this gave him the chance to have a better cognizance of that boy and determinate if he was a good choice for his daughter.

In addition, in case Doof didn’t like this boy at all, he had his disintegrateinator ready to banish this boy from existence. He wouldn’t allow his daughter to date a boy he doesn’t approve, even if Vanessa assured she’ll date Ferb – what kind of name is Ferb anyway? – even if her father didn’t gave his permission.

Vanessa was really stubborn, something Doof was really proud of.

Heinz looked at the clock on the wall once again. Vanessa would arrive any time soon. In addition, Perry the Platypus came really soon that day, defeated him and left after Doof cursed him. This gave him time enough to have everything ready for when they-

“Dad? Dad, we’re here!”

Oh snap, they’re here! Okay doof, don’t mess anything. This is important to Vanessa. Doof approached to the new come people with a huge smile.

“Oh Vanessa! Welcome! Come, come, I’ve everything ready.”

He hugged his daughter and after that took a good look of the boy accompanying her. The boy was tall and specially well dressed – he probably thought that it was an especial occasion and it was better to dress like that. What truly caught Doof attention was the unusual color of the boy’s hair. It was green, and taking a better look, his head remember him an F… Oh, of course…

“Dad, I want to present you my boyfriend, Ferb.” Said Vanessa completely joyful while holding Ferb’s hand.

Doof smiled and cleared his throat.

“Ferb, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He stretched out his hand to Ferb. The boy shook his hand without a single word. That seemed a little weird to Doof.

“Don’t you talk?” he asked with confused voice.

Vanessa gliggled and put a hand on her boyfriend’s shoulder.

“He’s a man of just a few words.”

“Ah, I see…”

Oh okay, that was fair enough, at least for now. Doof hopped he’d have a chance to “test” how much good was this for his daughter.

Trying to conceal his inner purpose, Doof leaded the way to the center of the apartment. He took good care of put all his inventions in order so he wouldn’t seem a messy person. It didn’t go unnoticed to Heinz that Ferb’s eyes opened wide upon seeing all those inventions, so the boy had an interest on robotics and mechanics… that was a good think to Doof’s eyes.

At the center of the room, Doof had prepared a table perfectly set for them to have dinner. Heinz turned to look at his daughter and his guest.

“I’ve prepared you a very special dinner with very special Drusselstein meals.”

Vanessa frowned. Uh-oh, that wasn’t good…

“Dad, I told you Ferb is British,” she snapped “it would have been better to prepare British meals!”

Doof scratched the back of his neck with ashamed expression. Honestly, he had forgotten that detail. Even that, he had a credible explanation.

“I’m sorry Vanessa, when I programed Norm, I made him only capable to prepare Drusselstein meals, oh and desserts, but I didn’t program it to cook British meals.”

Vanessa’s gaze hardened.

“But-”

Vanessa stopped when felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked at her boyfriend who was smiling at her tenderly. The young women sighed and closed her eyes.

“Fine, if it’s okay with you Ferb, then let’s go to have diner.”

Okay, another point to Vanessa's would-be boyfriend. But Doof still had one test to run on that boy, the ultimate-super-test-inator. He’d do it after having dinner, preferably without Vanessa being there. Heinz tried during the dinner to be as kind and hospitable possible. He probably did it too much since even Vanessa gave him a couple of hard looks.

The plan was to test the boy after dinner, while Vanessa was occupied with anything. Doof truly wanted to test the boy. All what he had seen from far was good… but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to be sure he was allowing his daughter to date the best person possible for her.

Dinner finished. Heinz thought on a way to distract Vanessa so he would talk with Ferb. But maybe Vanessa guessed what he was thinking or maybe she just wanted to help her father after all what he had done for them, preparing the dinner and making his apartment look truly comfortable or maybe… she just wanted for them both to spend some time together and get to know each other. Well, whatever the reason was, Vanessa volunteered to wash all the dishes, and of course Norm offered to help her.

That was perfect! Now Doof could do what he wanted.

He looked at Ferb who was standing there, looking the door through where Vanessa disappeared from his sight. If the green-haired boy was nervous, he didn’t show up. Heinz smiled, time to start.

“So… Ferb, I’ve noticed earlier your surprised expression while watching all my inventions. Do you like mechanics?”

The youngest man simply nodded.

Okaaay, what was necessary to make Ferb talk? Heinz wasn’t exactly sure of how to make the boy talk, but he wouldn’t give up easily. No, we didn’t give up on trying to get control of three state area all this time, he wouldn’t give up with this boy.

Doof smiled. He made Ferb follow him to where he had his inventions. Ferb’s eyes widened again upon seeing all Doof’s inventions. The older man smiled. Finally, time arrived. He would test Ferb! Doofenshmirtz walked towards his disintegrateinator. He tried to act as casual as possible. He didn’t want to make Ferb run away after all.

“Well Ferb, do you like mechanics?” Doof was at his disintegrateinator side, but turned to look at Ferb so he wouldn’t notice what he was pretending.

The green haired boy nodded.

Well, Heinz guessed this nodding was one of Ferb’s way to show emotion, since this was more than what he did so far. He turned again and took his invention.

“I like mechanics too, and do inventions, and of course, keep all my inventions clean to ensure better performance of them.” He took a rag and began to “clean” his disintegrateinator. He looked at Ferb with a huge smile.

“But… this isn’t the reason why I took you here.” Ferb gave him a weird look, which just made Doof’s smile to increase.

“Look Ferb, I just want to know one thing from you. What makes you good enough?”

Ferb’s eyes widened.

“What makes you good enough to date my daughter?”

What happened next was something Doof didn’t even expect to happen.

“I just want to make Vanessa happy. If I manage to do that, then I think it’ll be prove that I’m good enough to her.”

Heinz was so surprised that he went out of words. He did expect any other answer, every scenario in his mind presented an entire speech talking about Ferb’s qualities. But he didn’t expect he would put his ability to make Vanessa happy as the prove he was asking for.

To know this boy was thinking first in Vanessa than in himself was prove enough to Doof that his daughter was in good hands.

He smiled tenderly to Ferb.

“Ferb, welcome to our family.”

#promt list #requests #Phineas & Ferb #Ferb #Vanessa #Heinz Doofenshmirtz

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themysteriousphoenix · 4 years ago

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Do director's cut for the nighttime journey one!

Sorry, it took me several days to get to this! It was fun to revisit this one!

*********************************************

Moonlight shone down on the empty dirt road. It was late. It was quiet. A single man in a battered, mustard-yellow waistcoat appeared with a barely audible pop, landing in the grass near the tree line. His eyes were sharp as he looked around, watching for company. Newt Scamander, after years of watching for danger and tracking beasts, was quite adept at spotting what most others would not.

Creeping up to the road, his boots scuffling softly in the dirt, Newt set off for home with only the light of the moon to guide him. This was a practiced journey now, and it was best traveled at night. Danger lurked all around him most days, and he was finally on his way to the only place he felt safe. Years of war had put his senses on edge, and he was ready to let down his guard a little for the first time in several days. He was tired. He was always tired now.

I imagine this story to take place about 5 years after Paris. They have now moved into a home in the country. It may or may not be the house in Dorset where they retire. I am thinking...probably not. Starter home, for sure.

It was a surprisingly clear night, a few fluffy clouds danced in the light of the nearly-full moon, and Newt allowed himself to look up at the constellations above his head. His sharp, green eyes traced the memorized shapes of Draco, Cygnus, Aquila… They were familiar, constant, and a little calming; he realized they brought him back to nights of safety at Hogwarts, huddled under a blanket as he charted them from the Astronomy Tower with Leta. Distant, sad memories, now. He walked on, the summer breeze becoming slightly colder as it pushed his messy fringe back from his forehead.

I did so much research for this stupid paragraph. I looked up which constellations would be visible in England in the summer. I imagine he and Leta charting toward the end of the school year, May or June. This is probably taking place about the same time of year. Early summer.

Atop a hill, Newt stopped and looked down into an empty clearing below him. The moon shone on a wide expanse of grass, a rolling area cut out of the trees that stretched back to the small brook in the distance. He reached into his coat, pulling his wand out of hiding. Newt closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them again. He smiled widely as a white cottage edged with white fencing, several small outbuildings, and a large garden came into view.

I’m thinking this charm used is similar to the charm used on Grimmauld Place. A break in the matrix, I guess. Visibly, they just eliminated part of the valley where the house is so that it’s super hard to find. You need a password to find it. Occamy is the password, for the record. Tina, Newt, Jacob, Theseus, and Dumbledore are the only people who know the password.

As Newt entered the front gate and let it fall closed behind him with a creak, he could smell the flowers that had been potted near the front door and under the windows. They were new. They must have been planted in the last four days since he had last been here. A single light shone in the window on the second floor, dim and welcoming.

Quietly, Newt unlocked the front door with a wave of his wand and let himself in, closing the door tightly behind him and replacing the security spell. It was dark in the entryway, but the light from the next floor was enough for him. He slipped his wand back into the holster at his hip and, with practiced agility, silently began to climb the wooden stairs. He could hear a voice now, a single, soft voice that was coming from the illuminated doorway to the right of the stairs.

For those who read this for the first time, I was trying to make this story seem like Newt was coming home and someone was in his house. I don’t know if that was the feeling that came across through the words, but it worked in its own way.

Newt was captivated by the sight before him. In the light of a single lamp was his everything. Tina was sitting in a wooden rocking chair, her hair tangled and her eyes puffy and tired. She wore the same blue housecoat that she had brought with her from America four years ago, even more worn and ragged now than it had been the first time he had seen her wear it. She was singing a song as she rocked, her eyes watching the small bundle in her arms. The song was in Hebrew. Newt didn’t know what the words meant as they slipped softly and with practiced ease from her lips, but he knew it was probably a song that her father had sang to her when she was young. One finger brushed the fuzzy, dark hair over the baby’s ear in a repetitive motion as she rocked.

He watched from the shadows of the doorway until she finished, his shoulders relaxing and his heart clenching at the view before him. Here he could finally be free of the dangers of the outside world. He was home. He stepped into the room and Tina looked up toward him.

Their baby is probably only a month old at this point. Tina is tired. As someone who has lived that life, you don’t sleep much that first month because babies need to eat every couple of hours those first few weeks. This is doubly hard when your partner is away. Tina can’t have random people into their home due to security so she has probably been going non-stop for days. Our girl is exhausted.

“You’re home.” Words that held surprise, relief, and care, all at once. She smiled tiredly up at him as he walked toward the rocking chair, kneeling next to her on the floor.

“I missed you,” she whispered as he leaned over to kiss her gently on the lips. He rested his forehead against her temple as he lifted one hand to caress her cheek.

“I missed you, too, love. Very much.” He looked down at the bundle in her arms where dark blue eyes stared attentively up at him. Eyes that looked just like Tina’s; eyes that Newt hoped would fade into a dark, fiery brown as beautiful as her mothers’.

Most babies are born with blue eyes. The darker the blue, typically the darker color they will fade into. This one will definitely have Tina’s dark brown eyes. ;-)

“Why are we still awake, my little one?” The baby in Tina’s arms was wide awake, her eyes were alert and a single arm that had escaped from her swaddle was waving slowly through the air, her little hand grasping and unclenching at nothing. At the added attention, she let out a coo and a grunt as she blinked up at them. Newt reached out and placed his first finger into her hand where it was gripped tightly.

Newborns grunt, groan, and snort....do not imagine a little coo. She probably is snorting like a tiny, cute little piggy.

Tina leaned back and kissed his cheek. “She was waiting for her Papa, I guess,” she whispered into his ear. Newt smiled widely, his eyes never leaving his daughter’s face. He released a deep breath and slowly rose to his feet.

“C’mere.”

Tina rolled the rocking chair forward and stood, meeting her husband and sinking into the comfort of his arms, their child between them.

“I’m so glad to be home. Four days is far too long,” Newt whispered as Tina rested her cheek on his shoulder.

“Were you able to find it?” She asked, mumbling the question into the fabric of his jacket.

“I was. Dumbledore was very pleased.”

Honestly, I have no idea what Newt was trying to find. I never explored that, and I decided that it didn’t actually matter. “It” will remain a mystery.

Tina snorted lightly, “He’d better be-- and he’d better let you stay home for at least a few weeks before sending you off to Mercy knows where again.”

Newt chuckled as he leaned his head against his wife’s. “I told him just that not two hours ago. I’m needed here right now. No more trips for a while.”

“Good.”

Newt knows how tough this trip was for Tina. He put his foot down when Dumbledore asked for another favor as soon as he returned from wherever he was. He finally said no. It took Tina’s well-being and time with his daughter to get him to that point. Dumbledore is secretly approving of this and respects it.

They stood like that for quite a while, Newt rocking the three of them lightly and rhythmically. Tina leaned on his shoulder, breathing deeply and evenly, and their daughter gripped his finger as her eyes finally began to soften.

Tina yawned, breaking the peaceful moment before snuggling more closely into Newt’s shoulder. He chuckled again, rubbing her back where he held her. “Go to bed. It’s late.”

“Yes, but you just got home.”

“--and I will be here when you wake up,” he whispered. “Go.”

Tina sighed deeply and kissed his shoulder. “Mm, okay, fine.” She grinned tiredly up at him and leaned forward for a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Tina gently transferred the baby to Newt’s waiting arms before leaning down and kissing her forehead gently. “--and I love you, my darling,” Tina whispered as her knuckle gently caressed her child’s soft cheek. She stood up straight and began walking from the room. She waved at Newt from the doorway before making her way back down the dark hallway to their bedroom.

It’s probably around 11:00 at night, Tina will sleep for at least 6 hours, and it will be glorious. She earned it.

“Goodnight,” Newt said to her quietly as she slipped from the room. His attention fell to the child in his arms. She squirmed as she tried to get comfortable, letting out a single cry in the silence.

“Sh-sh-sh,” he whispered as he rocked her in his arms, “Shh, I’ve got you, Papa’s got you.” Newt shuffled over to the painted rocking chair in the corner, a gift from Uncle Jacob, and slowly lowered himself into it, rocking forward and backward steadily. The baby seemed to settle a little in his arms as she struggled to find sleep.

I decided that Tina called her father “Papa,” and when she introduced her baby to Newt, she said, “Meet your Papa.” The name stuck.

“Do you want me to tell you a story?” he asked softly as he continued the comforting motion, “I’ve been on quite a journey for Dumbledore this week. I missed you and your mother terribly, but I found some truly interesting things while I was away.” Newt’s gentle voice rose and fell as he began to tell of wanderings through the woods, spellwork, and searches for old books. His daughter’s eyes drifted closed as he spoke of a meeting with a very odd old witch who had been determined to ‘fatten him up’ before she would allow him to leave her rickety, stone cottage. He continued his tale, rocking gently, as he held his child in his arms. Even after he was done speaking he continued rocking. He watched her sleeping, her cheek pressed against his chest as she breathed deeply.

Newt is a pretty fidgety guy, but at this moment he finds himself to be completely relaxed and happy. I’m imaging he’s pretty tired too, but he’s prepared to give Tina the rest she needs. Tomorrow will definitely be a lazy day in the Scamander household.

He was home, and he was staying. War might be raging outside, but he was needed here. The rest of the world could wait.

#newtina #newtina asks #ashley writes

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snow-wind-and-all-we-will-find · 4 years ago

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Hi! My names arthur and im working on improving my word and building my story, which currently has no name haha! I have a myriad of characters who ill try to list out and give brief descriptions of, aether is technically my main character and some of the characters who are up for question are dead in canon. But you can still ask them stuff, itll just be set before death.

When asking characters questions, rememeber to include the name, their age if theres diffrent ages, i dont mind repeated questions, but if you see the question try not to ask it again lol. If you cant find it with a quick scroll just ask it, although i dont know if this blog will even get that big.

Aether

He comes in three evolutions lol, technically, theres four but idk if i would count 7 year old aether.

Ages: 13 yo - colder, hasnt gotten used to emotions, there are two to this as well, pre-rev and then post-rev 13 yo aether, remember to specify lol.

16 yo- a bit more out there, still kinda disconnected and figuring things out, a bit more defensive

22 yo- lax, hes sorta figured shit out, hes not going to go grazy, hes just gonna be chill lol.

!The gaggle Ghosts!

Yurei

Her personality is very, ehhh, becuase i havnt done work with her, and i havnt completly figured out who she is fully yet, shes 18 yo when aether is 22 yo

18 yo- pretty oblivious, somehow still a bit cynical, very nice and sometimes motherly

Kakoku

Few thousand- mean, likes to bully yurei as he huants her, lowkey a simp for yurei but he wont admit that. Kinda cynical and likes to bring others down, generally a bully

Tamashi

19- emotionless, has to be a really strong emotion to make her emote, tends to stray away from other people, likes to be alone, blunt

Gunnar

A few thousand- sweet, warm and welcoming, tries to be very fatherly and a trusted figure, is very busy most of the tiime unfortunatly though.

!The greek gang!

Argus agapov

16- unstable, pretty baby, protective over friends and family

Mythos agapov

23- whore. He also loves his family, lowkey, hes a trad wife

Perceus

15/16- timid, intrested in posiosn and acids, generally quiet, likes to eat leaves, scaredy cat

Diogenes

14- germ of phobe, kind of a brat, more just a bitch, will yell at you if he sees your hands were dirty from gardening or something while you’re walking to the sink, other than that hes fine, picky eater

Herodotus

15- disorginized, trys his best, likes to write stuff down, helps plato with his writing and grammar in general, gullible, likes record data, has a nice typewriter with tha good clicky clack

Plato

8- sweet baby boi, loves his older brother (socrates), idolizes him even, not a good idea though. He writes down everything socrates does, sometimes he imitates his brother as well.

Socrates

17- dumb of ass, also just dumb, held back a grade, feral child, bites alot of people, soft aestechic but hed stab as a warning

Heracles

30- also dumb of ass, loves cars in that ‘mah babeh’ kinda way. Hates motorcycles, he thinks they’re ugly. Chaotic but he utilizes it to be the weird and cool uncle/cousin thing

Zeus

46- too tired for this shit, is a dad, went out to get milk, jk jk, dissapeared for a hot few years, probably got captured by some gang dunno, it happens. Very serious, would make the dumbest jokes with his brothers with a straight face

Hades

50- lowkey the neglected middle child, soft goth lookin ass, loves his kid, tries his best to raise his kid, sometimes gets help from esme

Poseidon

57- proud stay at home dad, buff but does the typically wifely duties, makes sure his children get enough love, nutrience and care

Lillith

54- very active, the money maker, kinda soft, both her and her husband poseidon are so just in love with their kids, dote on them constantly, very extroverted, always makes time for her kids

Esme

51- tired of zeus’ shit, does her best to make sure no one dies, still treats mythos as her ‘little baby boy, tired mom vibes.

!the Eden gang!

Eden is a fictional country that i slapped onto the globe. It is where aether is from, technically aether is apart of the eden gang as well. Everyone here, if they have an age option, the first age option is the age they are when aether is 13, and the second will be when aether is 16 unless stated otherwise

General kyelli

49- fatherly, thinks of most of the gang as his children, calls everyone ‘son’, as a general rule. If you ask for another nickname, he will do his best. Has a bad knee, and is kinda of bad at existing physically

52+- fatherly still, loves almonds, always has a bag of almonds, dont test him. Enjoys travel, might adopt people he meets along the way, still has pains but now he sees doctors, wants to stay active

Indigo

13- sweet, optimistic, always looks on the brightside and tries to see the good in others. Little heater, understands that sometimes fighting is the only option

Akrano

16- lively, very loose and relax, can get serious when needed though, always making jokes and trying to lighten up the mood

19- a bit more, mellow. Still quite lively and childish, but with two signifigant-others you have to settle down sometimes

Ekrano

16- lively, more stern than akrano and kinda worried, but ultimatly also very loose and bright

Lilliana

16- serious, seemingly colder towards everyone, gets along great with psycho-lops, makes him new eye-patches to pass time, actually just very monotone and blank most of the time, although she does care

19- she doesnt change much, she got a bit more expressive, likes babysitting howl

Psycho-lops

16 1/2- always looks determined, actually kinda scared of conflict, likes to help out with healing though, very proficient in it as well, sounds intimidating while talking about how cute puppies and kittens are

19/20- still the same, is considering studying medicine and medical practices to become a doctor.

Bark

17- bright, incredibly lively, loves to joke around and tease and sometimes bully the others, targets aether primarily, hangs out with his brother most of the time, he can fight for himself but he likes the backup, especcially since he is kinda glass-jawed, being that hes a twig

Bite

17- quiet, intense eyes, always sounds vaugly confused when he speaks, deep voice lol, likes to train, doesnt understand barks need to tease others, likes to read to the children

20- quiet, intense eyes still, more so nervous sounding, slightly paranoid, cluastrophobic and cant stand dusty places, usually in his house or at the docks, doesnt really go anywhere else

Hanelle

17- loud, headstrong, adamant about her opinions, gets along well with bark, she tries alot to be intimidating, not a twig, but not very big, pretty friendly and sociable

!the band of pirates!

Aklea

A few hundreds of years- kinda bored seeming, loves blood, technically cannibal, but not really since he isnt human, to an extent. Despite being fine on the ocean, he gets very car sick very easily. Actually quite nice, very easily triggerd into violence, especcially by something that could be used as a good murder weapon, blood makes him jittery and more lively

Nerone

21- calm, too calm, deals with akleas bullshit wonerfully, he just stands there, blank smile on his face as aklea beats the shit outta someone, unintrested in most anything, likes to draw, but hes a much better pastry chef.

!the shakespears!

Midem(pink boi)

33- lively, loves to work with kids, very creative, likes to make things, mainly art, mainly carvings. Often make little minitures of scenes from midens writing, loves his twin, does anything it takes to fund midens intrests. Very loving to those hes close to

Miden

33- calmer by alot lmao, pretty introverted but he can hold a long conversation without becoming too drained, enjoys writing and making stories, also makes plays for fun, runs off little sleep cuase he stays up so late to write, and gets up early to write.

!gods!

Gideon

9 billion- confused boomer, loves his ‘children’, hates to be hated, always tries to help in anyway he can, despite making them, always curious into what mortals are doing, loves the universe he created and does anything he can to protect it

Merik

7 million- sore loser, does get a little salty, ultimatly bounces back and becomes a very good sport, always will adopt tactics, whatever it takes to win within the rules, keeps most all of his trophies from random feats hes done

Ventus

5 billion - calm, straightforward, tends to disregard others and do things himself, likes to sit on cliffs and watch the ocean

Kyle

Hes been around since 776 bc- very loud, lively, bright, tries his best to educate people on proper form, workout regime i intesne, doesnt allow others to take it, makes custom workout regimes for free, owns a gym, dude bro but hes nice, baby

Horo-sha

Her age technicaly is not accurate, shes like, 2 billion? Since dima was made right after her death. But since her history still lives, ima count it

5 billion but older than ventus- bitter, violent, former god of justice, fucking dead haha, hates mortals, primarily humans

Dima

Also not super accurate, hed only be a few centuries of being an active god before being sealed, but since hes technically, concious and has cognitive function hes counted

3 billion- mean lol, likes blood and gets even more violent when it starts getting messy, ‘new’ god of justice, uh, pretty bad at it like the last one, but worse, will kill over slight misdeameanors, everythings a crime smh

!misc!

Ivan

24- softspoken, from imperial russia, died young, he no longer feels his face is his own, has a mask that he likes better, has the sickness, but since he was human it killed him, can control it post mortem, is strong enough to be seen, but weak enough he can go invisible and go through solid objects.

More ocs will be added when i remember them, or create new ones, characters i dont really have built at all are not included

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samuelsongs · 4 years ago

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⌠ JEON JUNGKOOK, 22, CISMALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, SAMUEL SONG! according to their records, they’re a THIRD year, specializing in WEAPONS TRAINING/PROTECTION & ENFORCEMENT; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (a hand running through messy hair, an eager wave and toothy grin, various small and friendly tattoos). when it’s the (libra)’s birthday on 10/19/1998, they always request their GUACAMOLE BURGER AND PARMESAN FRIES from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

𝙼𝚈 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴

ACCESS: GRANTED FILE NAME: SONG, S.; UNKNOWN LEGACY

Samuel Song grew up for the first half of his life in sunny California-- Silver Lake, LA, to be exact. He would soon discover that he liked to go by Sam, though he’d respect and treasure his Korean name, Hansol, when the time came. He was a bright kid, full of life and joy and eager to do just about anything. He was always the first one to raise his hand in school or volunteer himself to make new friends. His parents loved the fact that their son was so lively and sweet, and that was in part due to their nurturing and loving nature as parents too.

They both worked in tech, very skilled and adept in their field with great jobs that allowed them to take great care of their home and child. As great as they were at their jobs, they never let it get in the way of being good parents, of making sure that their home life was as open and compassionate and understanding as they believed it should be.

He was three years old when his family welcomed a baby girl, and Sam has probably never had a greater happiness than being a big brother to Ingrid. He took care of her from the get-go, looking after her as a toddler, and always watching over her as they aged. While their parents had the money to hire babysitters, which they did, Sam still liked to always be taking care of Ingrid throughout his life, making sure she had everything she needed to be happy, or at least tried his best to.

Sam was the kind of kid that excelled in most things. He tried out for practically every sport there was, his parents supporting him throughout all the different seasons, and joined as many clubs that caught his eye as he could, something his sharp intellect helped with. His school career would see him as a star of the basketball team, student council treasurer, and president of the debate club all in the same semester, every year looking just as crazy as the last. He couldn’t help it, he just loved to be around others, a part of a team, making his mark. All this work would even help him graduate high school a year early.

At ten years old, his parents got an offer from another tech company, an offer they couldn't refuse, and the family relocated to Great Falls, Virginia across the country. The Song family moved in next door to the owners of the tech conglomerate that hired them, Reign Technology, and Ingrid and Sam met their new childhood friend, Régine Ren-- Rei for short. Despite the kids’ different personalities, they all grew up to care for each other, becoming close friends for pretty much the rest of their lives.

Sam adapted very easily to his new life in Virginia, jumping into his new school with just as much vigor as he always had, making himself out to be the ‘fun new kid’ until he was just as much a part of that community as anyone else.

The only thing was, as much as he enjoyed every activity, as good as he was at them, there was never anything that he truly loved, that he thought could carry him for the rest of his life. What he loved was being a part of something, but nothing in particular ever really called to him. He’d watch in the coming years as Ingrid would find her passion, and he’d be her number one fan, but he’d always look at her and wonder how it must feel to find your dream.

He went off to college, picking something that sounded exciting on paper, but still didn’t light a fire in him like he wanted it to. But he wanted to be able to think that he chose the right thing, and so he continued to follow it through, because, naturally, he was good at it anyway. Sam was home for the summer after his sophomore year of college when Ingrid confided in him that she’d found something huge.

After the younger Song sibling went on a visit to their parents’ workplace, Ingrid had found something scary, something that convinced her their parents were some sort of villains working for evil masterminds-- or at least tech that seemed to imply that to a creative and impressionable mind. Sam believed her immediately, his own young imagination running wild and the siblings spent the next few weeks trying to prove that their parents weren’t who they said they were.

When they thought they finally had enough evidence, they confronted them, but were met with something entirely different-- and thankfully a little more tame. Their parents confessed that they were actually retired spies, and their jobs at Reign Tech were due to that. Suddenly everything made more sense, even though it hardly made sense that their normal, PTA-member parents could have had any past as cool and exciting as espionage. There was one more catch, however.

Not only were their parents ex-spies, they were actually connected to one of the biggest names in the history of espionage-- and assassination, actually. Sam and Ingrid’s father was a Blackthorne descendant, though for the safety of his young children, had asked his family to hide that side of them from the Song kids. Sam knew the name Blackthorne, but only as the last name of the cousin he loved so much, the fun uncles, and the serious grandpa from his dad’s side. And now he was realizing that all along they were actually one of the most prominent families in the spy community.

What’s more was, well, the Blackthornes had their own school. While it took some genuine debating and convincing of his parents, it was mostly a no-brainer to Sam. This is what he was meant to do, this was why he had never found a true purpose in life. He was destined to be a spy. His father warned him that Blackthorne would be unlike any other school he’d ever been to or heard of, that it would be the hardest thing he’d have to endure, and that his ancestry might hurt him more than it would help. But Sam was determined, hopeful that he had the guts to handle it.

So, in 2018, he enrolled as a first year at Blackthorne, and just as he had expected, it was nothing like he was expecting. Luckily, he did have third year and cousin Emmett Blackthorne at his side, who took the brunt of the family name and all its hurdles as well as provided him with a kind face to stick by when he didn’t know what he was doing. Sam was content to stay in Emmett’s shadow, the heir apparent, who he looked up to just as much. He spent his year at Blackthorne wrestling with how absolutely unbearable training was, the looks of showing up as some unknown Blackthorne, and a shocking revelation: he was not good at this.

Sam had always excelled at everything he’d tried his hand at, annoyingly so, and it only frustrated him further that the one time he was sure he’d found what he wanted to do with his life, he couldn’t master it on the first try, and had to work twice as hard as everyone else to stay afloat. So much for the Blackthorne blood, he thought, and it came to a head when he heard whispers of what his namesake’s school asked of boys in order to graduate. By the end of the year, he was sure he couldn’t survive and he was not going back.

And that was when news hit that the school’s doors would be closing forever and its sister school Gallagher Academy, would be opening its doors to all genders. The next step was clear to Sam, who didn’t want to give up espionage. Because as grueling as Blackthorne was, and as hard as it was to wrap his head around the fact that he wasn’t naturally gifted at it, he couldn’t imagine ever doing anything else. So, he transferred to Gallagher in 2019, and fell in love with the school immediately.

Ever since, he’s been steadily climbing up his own personal mountain, training hard and trying his best to master what he should have a direct familial line to. Aside from how seriously he takes his schoolwork, he’s still bright and goofy as ever, and Sam knows if he ever loses that side of him, that’s when he won't be able to pursue this any longer. But for now, he’s vibing and thriving!

TLDR - THE FACTS

Sam is a goofy and bright personality, always friendly and always looking to have fun

grew up in Cali with Ingrid to two loving parents in the tech industry

they moved to Virginia when their parents got hired by Reign Tech

he’s a naturally gifted kid who was almost instantly good at everything he tried, though he could never find a passion that motivated him and had no idea what to do with his future

Ingrid says she think their parents are evil masterminds and he instantly believes her, until their parents confess they’re actually just retired spies!

also, surprise, they’re Blackthorne descendants, and their father convinced the Blackthorne side to keep the spy business a secret from his kids

Sam decides this is what he’s meant to do with his life and enrolls in Blackthorne, only to find out this is the one thing he’s not naturally good at

hates his first year at Blackthorne, because the place is a nightmare, being a Blackthorne is not all it’s cracked up to be, and he finds out about the m*rder secret lol

but despite it all, despite espionage being the one thing he can’t immediately excel at, it’s the first thing in his life that he truly feels driven towards and wants to pursue

so when Blackthorne (thankfully) closes, he’s super happy to transfer to Gallagher, and has been loving it there ever since!

he takes his schoolwork and training super seriously, because he’s trying to get better and better every day, but aside from that, he’s laid-back, kind, and vibrant!

CONNECTIONS

Ingrid Song: his baby sister, he’ll do literally anything to see her happy; he’s super supportive of her dreams and passions, and is just a touch worried about her being at Gallagher after the previous year; they have a great and healthy relationship!

Regine Ren: childhood best friend ever since he moved in next door to her; developed a crush on her in their teenage years and they started dating for a good while before they realized they couldn’t work in the long run; still on good terms and he considers her a close friend

i’m down for almost anything pls <3

@gallagherintro

#this bio isn't even that good why did it take me so long sjdnvkjndf #gallagher:intro #abt #anyway goofy loving boy :)

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conelly · 4 years ago

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( luke hemmings, twenty-two, cismale, he/him ) did you see BYRON CONELLY walking down main street earlier? you know who i’m talking about, they’re a DECKHAND. everybody in town says that they’re SANGUINE & NONJUDGEMENTAL, but have a tendency to be IMPRESSIONABLE & VOLATILE too. BYRON has been in town for ONE AND A BIT years. c'mon, they’re always requesting SWEET CAROLINE by NEIL DIAMOND at karaoke nights. well, i’m sure you’ll see them soon! ( ooc: sunny, 22, she/her, est )

hi thanks for tuning in, SUNNY here to tell you all a lil bit about westmere’s very own new nd improved favorite loser below. sorry for this summary being all over the place, it’s kinda how my brain works heh which is kinda perfect bc byron will for SURE be all over the place too ( u can rly tell at a certain point i was like ok i give up + i’m posting mf ). let me know if u have any questions about ‘em and most importantly, lmk if you would like to plot a lil connect or sumn 😙

@westmerestarters

FAMBAM + BACKGROUND

born 14 years after the elder conelly ( wanted brother connect !!! ) entered this word to two parents who didn’t seem to read the job description, it was clear that byron wasn’t planned. and down the line, he’d soon realize through the tumultuous household he was brought up in - perhaps never even wanted.

byron’s parents had one constant - and that was fighting. over anything, all the time. there just wasn’t any love between the two and they stayed together for whatever meaningless reasons until byron hit middle school. ( there might’ve been a super short lull in toxicity once byron was born, but it had to be short as his first memories are nothing shy of toxic. ) it was a messy separation ( they never paid the full legal fees for a full divorce ) - his father moving to the coast of nj & his mother moving to a smaller apartment nearby her own mother ( which, due to the negative relationship among his mother + grandmother, also called for more tension ). he’d often be dropped off @ his grandmother’s house for baby-sitting or when he was ‘ becoming too much to handle. ’ eventually his grandmother moved into his cousin’s house ( MONROE ) and although grateful he made a practically new brother, similar tendencies of feeling unwanted occurred when byron noticed their grandmother praising and coddling and favoriting monroe just a bit more.

( his mother was a struggling addict ( and had been her whole life ), but the loneliness, newfound pressures and whatever excuse she was able to name caused her drinking to spiral worse than byron remembered ( even at his young age ) before. )

( his father was rarely in his life, but when he was, he was THE coolest. always played good cop in any situation regarding his mother, despite choosing not to have an active role in byron’s life. byron looked up to him like no other. when he WAS around, he taught byron how to surf, skateboard, play sports, they’d play video games, they’d eat junk food - honestly anything that byron wanted to do. his dad was an adrenaline junkie and created the stepping stones for byron to be one too. he was a marine biologist & pretty successful at that. passionate, intelligent, but seemingly finding his newfound life a lot better than his previous - which is why he never wanted byron to stay too long, the boy reminded him of her, of the past. )

( his older brother moved out of the house when byron was just a lil kid, they’re not very close and don’t have much in common ... or so it seems. he lives in nyc and they only talk here and there on holidays. he was never a huge part of his life, but it does bum him out to think what could’ve been / could be. )

TO GET THE GIST

due to never receiving the attention he craved from his family members, he made up for it tenfold in school. he was always talking to everyone, loud, boisterous, gregarious, life of the party; he wanted people to like him and they did. he become a total people pleaser, molding himself to make sure everyone was content and stayed around. impressionable, adaptable. he felt less this way towards adults and had a bit of a rebellious phase, hanging with the wrong crowd & getting into things he probably wouldn’t do otherwise. old habits die hard and he still tries his best to make everyone crack a smile, to remember him - since he believes he won’t be remembered for much else.

after he just barely skated by in high school ( his grades were never as good as his cousin’s and never lived up to his father’s expectations ), byron felt a bit lost. a lot of people had plans, were heading off to college - but already under the assumption he couldn’t reach any expectation in that realm ( a lil self fulfilling prophecy am i right pals ), he stayed in town - caring for his mother who hardly had anything together, his uncle who got sick very quickly & passed, spending time with his grandmother, while he himself fell into a rut. most of his days meant he drove out towards his dad’s place ( dad hardly there now, out and about with his new family ), surfing, smoking, and grabbing some cash doing odd jobs any way he could. he lost any purpose he once had ( but yall would never know it bc who wants to be in someone’s life who’s a buzzkill ? all smiles, baby, all smiles. )

IN WESTMERE

when his cousin offered the opportunity to travel cross-country in his van, byron had nothing to lose. always adventurous in spirit, he immediately said yes - deciding to ignore that ‘obligation,’ that feeling to make sure they were a-ok that he felt towards his parents. he needed an out and this was it.

after landing in the small connecticut town for the night, the two fell for it - especially since when they got there along the water, it was a summer night + everything landed into place. they decided to stay there a bit longer ... and that eventually turned into more than a year. still antsy to keep traveling and to move around, byron has been ready to head out ... but stays for a few reasons - and them all being people ( bc lbh the surf is not even on point here ok )

his current job is a deckhand ( on a bunch of boats, ppl prob hired him as word of mouth got around that he knew what he was doing ). prob got that knowledge from being by his dad’s on the water when younger ( he’s ... obsessed with the water ) ! and also he’s just a quick learner ok ( ps: if your charrie has a boat pls let’s make somethin happen )

TO KNOW [ headcanons + more ]

his fav karaoke song is sweet caroline bc he knows everyone will be able to sing nd party along. he does it for the ppl, ppl.

he never saw too many baby / kid pics of himself which was kind of a bummer bc he really only remembers negative times - somehow they overpowered ( i bet lil byron was cute as fuck too fml )

he’s super into drugs, hallucinogenics, honestly you name it. it started off w/ him being impressionable, then bored, and now he just enjoys it. despite his mother’s addiction running through his blood, he still continues to do his thang.

longboards around town so watch your toes

uses 🤙🤙 all the time and not ironically

has an existential crisis on the daily about purpose but keeps that to himself most times

WANTED CONNECTIONS

someone pls give me a sugar mama idc how we plot it out they don’t have to hook up they can idk idc i just want someone giving him money or expensive things it can be so much fun ok ,, pool boy ? idk sign me up

pls if your muse has a boat, let him be the deckhand ok it will also be so fun and potentially angsty if he fucks something up

a fling 100% - even multiple ? idc listen he is currently sharing a tiny VAN with his COUSIN he needs a place - like an actual bed - to crash on at night

can he save someone who was potentially drowning pls??? he used to be a lifeguard, it can be a cool/fun thread to write out

omg off of that can he teach someone how to swim

look if anyone is into marine bio, can they somehow know byron’s father ?? i feel like that could make room for a cool plot

also i have an older brother connect on the w/c’s page lmk lmk

give me a good influence that will somehow have him open up + tell him that it’s weird to be so sunshiny all the time. maybe someone who witnesses him at his worst + stays, ya know ??

a bad influence plot where y/c takes this impressionable young lad and puts him through the ringer tbh ( srrsly he’d do a lot for ppl, so ask him to do something illegal for them it’ll be fun )

party pals, smoking pals, on the water 24/7 pals,

co-worker, other ppl that work on the water ( fishermen?? more deckhands?? captains??)

gimmie someone he accidentally bumped into while longboarding ( he’s a large human it might’ve done damage ok )

i want and need enemies ok i know he’s chill as fuck and wants everyone to like him but there’s always a way to find enemies >:o. anything angsty for REAL.

unrequited thing? where he led someone on?? i’m sure he does this constantly

don’t ruin the friendship thing omg plsssss always so fun

look i’m open for it ALL. every plot u have in mind so lay it on me

#westmereintro #TW ADDICTION #nd ... i think that's it

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ijustreallylovezebras · 6 years ago

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Shoebox of Photographs

So... this is my coping fic for Endgame!! There will be massive spoilers for the film in this imagine so... you have been warned!!!! PLEASE DON’T READ IF YOU HAVE YET TO SEE ENDGAME - I HAVE USED THE TAGS AND WILL CUT IT BELOW THIS BUT PLEASE DON’T CLICK READ MORE UNLESS YOU HAVE SEEN ENDGAME!!!!!

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avengers Daughter!Reader

Summary: After the events of Endgame Pepper calls the reader because she’s found some of Tony’s stuff

Requested: Nope

Warnings: Swearing, kinda sad, MAJOR ENDGAME SPOILERS

A/N: So this is another part of the Family Peter Parker ‘series’ I really hope you guys like it! Please like and reblog and let me know what you think - as always it can be read in isolation from the rest of the series if you want!

“Who was that on the phone, Angel?” Peter asked, nuzzling his face into Y/N’s neck as she climbed back into bed with him, curling back up into his arms.

Since the final fight with Thanos. Since Tony’s funeral. The two of them had barely moved from Y/N’s bed in the compound.

Few people lived there anymore. Steve, Bucky and Sam had all moved to Wakanda - something about time travel. Clint had returned to his family. Wanda had bought an apartment in the city. Bruce had returned to his lab. Y/N and Thor had said a tearful goodbye as he left with the Guardians. Nat was gone. Tony was gone.

Everyone was gone.

To say few people lived there was actually an exaggeration. Only Peter and Y/N did. Rhodey and Happy had both left to be closer to Pepper and Morgan - knowing that the Starks would need them after their loss. Though even Peter didn’t live at the tower full-time anymore, splitting his time as best he could between the two people who needed him the most. May and Y/N.

“Pepper,” Y/N whispered hoarsely.

“Is everything okay?” Peter asked and Y/N could feel his heartbeat increase as her head lay against his chest. Y/N nodded, tracing patterns on his skin.

“Fine,” she murmured mutely.

“What’s wrong, Angel?” Y/N didn’t need to look to see how he winced as soon as the words were out.

What was wrong? What was right would be the better question.

“Pep found some stuff she wants me to come over and look at - said Morgan wanted me to visit too,” she whispered. It was probably the longest, most coherent sentence she had said in a while.

“Are you going?”

“Yeah - said I’d go tomorrow,” Y/N mumbled. Peter’s fingers tangled in her hair, playing with the strands of it that wrapped around his fingers. “Will you,” Y/N coughed uncertainly. Since Tony’s death she had somewhat retreated back into her old, shy self, even around Peter.

“I can come with you if you want?” Peter prompted gently. Y/N let out a sigh, allowing herself to relax into Peter’s arms and nod.

“Please?” Peter placed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Anything for you, Angel.”

“I hope the drive wasn’t too bad,” the bags under Pepper’s eyes were huge as she greeted the two teenagers and May - who had offered to drive them, a sympathetic look on her face as she looked at her nephew and his girlfriend.

Even with Pepper’s exhausted, clearly distraught expression, Y/N couldn’t help but admit to herself how good it felt to see her again. She was quick to embrace Pepper in a tight hug.

“Hey Aunt Pepper,” she murmured. Peter went for a handshake but Pepper shook her head with a sad smile, hugging him instead.

“Y/N/N!” Morgan screeched, ploughing straight into Y/N’s legs. The teenager let out a quiet laugh - the first one in days - and hugged Morgan tightly.

“Hey, kid, how you doing?” She asked. Morgan placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

“You promised to visit!”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Y/N asked.

“Only because Mummy called,” she pouted. Y/N chuckled lightly, setting the young Stark down.

“I’m here for you too, kid, don’t worry,”

“Let me get you guys something to drink - then I’ll get out what I found,” Pepper said. Peter’s arm moved around Y/N’s waist, allowing Morgan to take his other hand and lead them inside. May followed, an affectionate smile on her face.

“Where was this?” Y/N asked, frowning up at Pepper.

“Under our bed,” she shrugged.

“It’s not very Uncle Tony,” she mused, tracing a hand down the front of the box in front of her. Pepper laughed, her eyes tearing up a little.

“No, it’s not really, is it?”

“What is it?” Morgan asked, swinging her legs as she sucked on her ice lolly.

“I don’t know, Morgs,” Y/N murmured, leaning into Peter slightly more. He pressed his lips to her temple.

“You going to open it, Angel?”

On the coffee table in front of the ensemble of family was a green shoe box that Tony had been keeping under the bed he had shared with Pepper. It had been hidden under some old jumpers and a couple of books and had Y/N’s name written on it in black marker pen.

Pepper had found it the day before when she was cleaning out their room to put some of Tony’s things in the attic, having come to the conclusion that she ought to start clearing out in order to help her move on. For Morgan’s sake. It was a tip from May, who had been trying her best to help Pepper through the tough time, knowing exactly what it was like to have to loose the one you loved most while having to take care of a kid at the same time.

Y/N took a deep breath and nodded, lifting the lid.

As soon as the lid was off, photos spilled over the edges of the box, sliding across the table to land in front of the other family members. Y/N felt herself well up.

May picked one up delicately, looking to Y/N for permission before she studied it more closely.

“This is your childhood, Y/N/N,” she whispered and Y/N nodded, the first few tears sliding down her cheeks. Peter was quick to kiss them away, worried about her until a tearful laugh choked past her lips.

Tony wasn’t sentimental. He never had been. And yet, here was a shoebox of photographs underneath his bed. All photos of Y/N.

“Wash your hands before you touch, Morgan!” Pepper scolded gently as her daughter tried to reach for one. Y/N moved off of the sofa and knelt in front of the coffee table.

Her hands paused in midair before she touched the box again and she looked at Pepper.

“Do you mind?”

“Of course not.”

Ten minutes later they were spread across the living room, the photos scattered across the floor as they each arranged their own pile.

“Look how young you were!”

Y/N looked fondly at the photo that May held out to her, her fingers lightly traced down her own face. It was one of her, sat between Steve’s legs on the floor as Steve sat on the sofa behind her. Thor stood behind them, instructing Steve as he held locks of Y/N’s hair.

“I don’t know how to do it!” Steve laughed and Y/N yelped as Steve pulled on her hair.

“Not like that!” She screeched, sending Thor into peals of laughter.

“I can’t do it!” Steve argued.

“Then stop pulling!” Y/N said, though she too was giggling, her hands flying to her hair.

“Steve you need to stop yanking!” Thor instructed. Steve’s fingers slackened and he worked more gently under the God’s supervision.

“Look at this one!” Peter laughed, Y/N moved to look over his shoulder at the photo in his hands and fell back laughing at the sight.

The photo showed her, Bucky, Sam and Steve - Bruce was in the background, laughing at the group of them - all holding water guns and grinning at the camera. Bucky’s hair was sopping wet, Sam’s white shirt was sodden and see-through and Y/N’s face was bright and beaming, eyes bright as she stood between her parents.

“Not in the lab!” Bruce called after them as Y/N dashed into the room, Bucky on her trail.

“This is so unfair!”

“How?” Bucky laughed.

“All of you were in the military!” She squealed, trying her best to shoot him over her shoulder. Y/N let out a cry of anguish as Steve shot her from behind.

“You could join,” Sam teased, approaching her to stand next to Bucky, a bright smile on his face though it quickly dropped when he was hit by two streams of water - from both Bucky and Steve. “I was joking!”

“Look! Daddy!” Y/N and Peter both practically launched themselves across the room to look at the photo in Morgan’s little hands.

“Holy sh-” Y/N cut Peter off by hitting his arm lightly. “Sorry!” He exclaimed before Pepper and May could say anything. “Is that what I think it is?” Peter asked, taking the photo from Morgan and examining the picture of Y/N and Tony crowded around a red suit.

“Yeah.”

“So he’s like a spider?” Y/N asked, holding the bit of material that Tony indicated for her to take.

“Yeah - you know, super strong, has webs-”

“Sticky?” Y/N offered. Tony barked a laugh and nodded.

“Yeah, I guess that’s a way to describe him,”

“And he’s, like, my age?” Tony glanced up at her, a grin on his face.

“Yeah so buck up your ideas kid, better start getting useful,” Y/N gasped in offence and elbowed him.

“You worked on my suit?” Peter asked, pecking Y/N’s lips. Y/N gave a shy shrug.

“I didn’t do much, held parts that Tony asked me to hold, you know all the easy stuff,” she laughed a little. Peter kissed her again.

“I didn’t know that.”

Morgan wiggled between them, settling herself on Y/N’s lap. Y/N’s arm went around her, pulling her more securely onto her lap so she wouldn’t fall.

“Why don’t you live with us?” She demanded. Y/N kissed her forehead.

“Because I live at the Avengers Compound,”

“But your my sister,” Morgan pointed out. Y/N’s heart fluttered slightly at those words. “Aren’t you?”

“I guess so, kid,” she agreed.

“You should live with us,” Morgan declared, cuddling into Y/N’s chest. Y/N looked and shared a tentative smile with Peter.

“Then I wouldn’t be near Peter.” Y/N whispered, seeing the way that Peter’s face lit up.

“Do you need to be?” Morgan inquired.

“Yeah,” the word came out in a breath as Y/N realised how true it was. She needed to be with Peter.

“Why?”

“He helps me breathe.”

The final photo - the one that Y/N saw Peter slip into his wallet - was one of the two of them. Y/N curled up on Peter’s chest, the two of them asleep in the common room of the compound.

Their hair was messy and they were both clearly exhausted but there were little smiles on both of their faces as they slept in one another’s arms. Content. Happy. Breathing.

And Y/N realised that it was true. Peter Parker helped her breathe.

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theonceoverthinker · 5 years ago

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When Will My Life Begin? (Fair Game, 3/?)

Tumblr: (1) (2) (B1)

Summary: Tangled AU. Clover Callows has been confined to a tower for all of his life, and given the threat that his Uncle Tyrian says his semblance poses to his safety, he accepts that fate. It’s the only life he’s ever known, after all. But when he’s offered the opportunity to fulfill his greatest dream after a chance encounter with a thief -- or bandit, as Qrow Branwen insists there’s a difference between the two -- both Clover and Qrow will discover joys that they never knew life could offer them before. AO3

A/N: By some Passover/Easter miracle, this chapter is actually on time!!!! Wahoo!!! I don't know what it was, but this chapter was both super easy and super hard to write! Here’s hoping it’s decent!

()()()()()()()()

Qrow Branwen always considered himself to be a...complicated man.

That was the easiest explanation he had for why he was preparing to scale the walls of the most celebrated general in Remnant’s home at seven thirty in the morning.

Thankfully, while so much of his life was complicated, this plan would be nice and easy.

There was a brooch all but asking to be stolen and he was a bandit, all but asking for something to steal.

Really, nothing could be simpler.

And once this heist got going, that simplicity would play out nice and smoothly.

Now where the hell was Mercury with that distraction so it could start, already?

Remnant’s streets were as busy and noisy as they ever were. All around, shopkeepers were making deals with their customers, friends were visiting friends, children were playing all manner of games, and street performers were singing for their supper. For most of his typical goings ons, a situation like that was a good thing. More people out and about meant more things for people to balance keeping an eye on, and if a trinket, a loaf of bread, or some coins got lost in the shuffle of the usual crowds, they wouldn’t be missed until it was far too late to do anything about it.

However, while that business often made for a good environment in his line of work, in a case like this where he was scaling walls in broad daylight, discretion was key to success. So, for an occasion like this, he needed a more artificial way of pulling the attention of the masses away from him, and that way came in the form of a distraction by one Mercury Black.

Still, even though he was sure the distraction wouldn't fail, he was annoyed that they had to rely on one in the first place. Qrow had wanted to do this heist last night -- “you know, when people are asleep,” he argued -- but his accomplice insisted they wait until the morning to start. He had no idea what could’ve possibly been more important than completing this heist, nor what had to have possessed him to agree to forego his nighttime plan. It certainly would’ve been easier than what they were doing now!

This, Qrow reminded himself, is why he preferred to work alone.

Yes, it wasn’t common for Qrow to work on a team -- he was a good enough bandit on his own and less people meant less profit splitting -- but when there was a brooch encrusted with Remnant’s purest emeralds as primed for the taking as was the one situated in General Ironwood’s heavily guarded home, there were suddenly all sorts of things Qrow Branwen found he was willing to do.

That brooch…

With the money he could get from a brooch like that, Qrow would never have to worry about money ever again.

In fact, with the money he could get from a brooch like that, he’d never have to worry about anything ever again.

Now that would be just the kind of break he so desperately needed.

All he had to do to get it was just wait for the signal and then do what he did best.

From the shadowed portion of the alley he was hiding in, Qrow glared in the general direction he knew Mercury’s distraction would come from, as if that glare would somehow will the distraction into existence.

And suddenly, as if the universe itself were abiding by his request, a loud and messy boom of a sound made itself known from the other side of the alley’s wall -- the far-too-long-for-Qrow’s-liking sought after signal.

It was about damn time.

Qrow counted off the seconds as panicked noises emerged in droves, crescendoing, only to then gradually soften as they moved further and further away from Qrow to investigate the strange noise. When Qrow reached fifty, he slowly started climbing up the house’s walls. He checked to make sure the coast was clear and upon seeing that everyone’s attention -- even including most of Ironwood’s guards, with more exiting the house -- was elsewhere, he continued climbing, now daring to speed up, knowing he wouldn’t be noticed.

He had to hand it to Mercury: the guy and those boots of his were pretty effective as a distraction, and Qrow knew as he hastened to finish his climb up the house’s wall that that very distraction would hold well until their job was done.

The top floor window of the General’s home was closed tightly with a decorative piece of stained glass depicting the brooch with a glowing sunset behind it.

To call the stained glass beautiful would be an understatement. In truth, it was a masterpiece, with every detail of the piece so intricately crafted, and though Qrow was by no means an art critic, even he knew that the glassblower, whoever they were, had certainly outdone themselves here.

It was a shame though that such a magnificent piece stood in his way.

Quickly, Qrow took the satchel at his side, pressed it up against the glass, and punched it as hard as he could at different angels three times.The first time cracked most of it and even sent a few shards of glass tumbling down the other side of the window. The second time shattered much of the glass on the other side, just enough to create a hole he could feasibly get though. And the third time left the window completely destroyed, ensuring that his exit would leave no room for complications.

Again, Qrow was a complicated man, but that didn’t mean his schemes had to be.

Qrow climbed through the window and examined the room. Despite the bright, pale green colored walls of the room and how full it was, there was a certain moroseness to it too that couldn’t be ignored. It was enough to even give Qrow pause for the barest of seconds before he started to look for the brooch.

The room had quite a lot of things in it -- toys, old furniture, crates full of supplies and the like. To anyone else, finding the brooch in here would’ve been as easy as finding a needle in a haystack.

However, Qrow wasn’t just anyone. He was a bandit, and a damn good one.

Qrow looked to the floors of the room. There were messes all along them. However, one section of the room directly to his left was spared a mess in front of it and it just so happened that that one section gave way to a wide drawer.

He was starting to wonder just how Ironwood managed to become a general with a hiding spot as transparent as that.

It almost felt unfair taking the brooch under such easy circumstances.

However, ‘almost’ was the key word in that sentiment.

Qrow made his way over to the drawer and looked at the three brass handles that each drawer held. The top and middle drawers were a dark copper color, but the bottom had a hint of shininess to it, implying it was used more often than the others.

Honestly, he’d opened lockless doors more challenging than that deduction was.

And speaking of locks...

There was a lock on the top right side of the bottom drawer, clearly a final obstacle between anyone and the brooch. It also likely served a second purpose -- notifying Ironwood if the brooch’s hiding spot had been discovered by thieves. Whithout the help of a key, whatever thief who had made it this far was likely to make noise trying to open the lock with a whatever they had on hand, or if they were truly dumb enough, they might try to go deeper into the house to try to find the key’s location.

But Qrow wasn’t noisy, nor was he dumb, and he certainly wasn’t a thief.

From his belt, Qrow reached for his weapon, Harbinger and removed it from his sheath. Once in his hand, Qrow flicked Harbinger, unfolding it.

Qrow was a complicated man -- it only made sense that his weapon would be too, and Harbinger was nothing if not complicated all the way from its inception to its design. Much like the bones of an arm, Harbinger was a scythe able to fold and unfold itself thanks to metal screws that acted as joints, and both of its forms served a different purpose. When it was folded, it ensured stronger blows and made for a handy makeshift shield, acting as almost more of a sword than a scythe, and when it was unfolded, it served the purposes of giving his attacks and abilities range and flexibility.

But while quite the wondrous weapon in its own right, Harbinger had an additional secret ability in the tip of it in its unfolded state.

In that state, its tip was just the perfect size to use as a lockpick, and Qrow wouldn’t even have to bend down to use it.

Really, this was too, too easy.

All the same though, Qrow wasn’t about to argue with an easy victory. He swung Harbinger back and forth in just the way he knew would unlock the drawer. The resulting click when it did was music to Qrow’s ears.

Qrow took Harbinger out of the drawer’s lock and used it to pull open the drawer at the handle.

And there, just as he knew it would be, was the brooch.

Folding and putting Harbinger away, Qrow looked at the brooch. The little bits of sunlight that reflected off of the broken stained glass shards on the floor made the brooch’s emeralds shimmer, making it look even more priceless than it already was.

All it took was one long look for Qrow to know that that brooch was going to make him a very rich man.

And it was all so easy...that is, until it wasn’t.

“Step away from the brooch now.”

Without saying a word, Qrow turned around to see the room’s new occupant and spotted a young woman, about his age, standing in the actual door to the room’s open frame. She had a steely gaze, hair that formed the abstract, yet still present shape of two bunny ears, and two large gauntlets in her hands.

He recognized her immediately -- Harriet, General Ironwood’s oldest daughter.

And she recognized him. It was obvious and not at all surprising. After all, one didn’t become the greatest bandit in all of Remnant without gaining something of a reputation. Apparently, that reputation had spread all the way to the top of the pecking order.

He almost had to wonder now if the king knew about him. Wouldn’t that be funny?

“You’ve stolen more than you ever should’ve from our kingdom, Branwen,” Harriet continued, eyes flaring and tone hitching up slightly, still firm but also somewhat desperate too, “but I swear, on my honor as a knight of the royal guard, that you will not get this brooch!”

A smirk crossed Qrow’s features as he mapped out his next moves. “Oh, I think you’ll find that I will,” he said, and with not a single beat passing between him and his pursuer, he grabbed the brooch in one fluid notion. “You know,” he continued, swiftly making for the room’s window, carefully avoiding every piece of broken glass in his path, “you shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

And as soon as Qrow’s final words left his mouth, he jumped out of the window with an air about him so casual that one would almost believe he was just visiting for tea if not for his unorthodox exit.

Qrow grabbed onto the house’s outer wall, just as he did on his climb up, and turned his head to look behind him. The roof of the next house over was a simple jump over, and Qrow wasted no time taking the leap. He continued rushing across the rooftops one by one.

As Qrow ran ahead, shoving the brooch into his satchel, he took notice of the multiple sounds following him.

There were the gasps of people who had now noticed his presence from atop the roofs of houses he now ran on.

There was the boom of what Qrow could only assume was another explosion courtesy of Mercury’s boots in an attempt to keep the attention of those who hadn’t seen him yet.

But the worst -- not to mention, the loudest -- came in the form of Harriet’s shouts.

“Come back here, Branwen!” she cried.

God, was she annoying.

He had a feeling when he and Mercury first came up with this plan that she’d be the worst part of his day.

And with any luck...he’d be the worst part of hers.

Qrow looked behind him, back at the window, and much to his lack of surprise, he could see Harriet glowing yellow.

It didn’t take a genius to know what that meant.

In all his time stealing his way through Remnant, Qrow had been fortunate enough to not have a direct run-in with Harriet before, or those siblings of hers, for that matter. Like himself, they had a reputation of their own as specialized knights all apprenticed directly under General Ironwood himself. Because of General Ironwood’s renown and his children’s talents, they were considered to be Remnant’s top knights, and many took to calling them the Ace Ops.

However, just because Qrow never had the misfortune to meet them, it didn’t mean he intended to go about his days in their territory blind to his biggest threats.

And of course, learning about them meant learning about their semblances too, and Harriet was just about to use hers.

In the two seconds Qrow spent looking at the window before turning his attention back to the roofs, he saw Harriet rush out the window and in his direction, getting closer and closer by the second.

Speed semblances...what a pain in the ass they could be…

But Qrow also knew quite a lot about pain in the ass semblances, and now felt like just the right time to use his.

Thinking quickly, Qrow took a sharp right turn and leapt onto an adjacent rooftop, running in a direction that was very familiar to him.

Harriet was catching up fast, but Qrow kept his lead.

All he had to do was go a little bit further.

There were just two houses to go.

A shout from Harriet boomed just after he got across the first one.

More gasps sprinkled his path as he passed by the second one.

Then, as Qrow reached the roof he was looking for, he was met with a very welcoming creak. He listened wholly to the sound, looked closely at its qualities, and spent the two seconds he had with it focusing all his energy into everything he had gleaned about the wood in that short time. When he was finally done with the step, a smirk crossed his face.

She was done for.

Without stopping, Qrow ran past the rooftop and onto the next one. When he arrived at that rooftop, for the first time since he began, he stopped running and turned, looking backwards once more. Harriet was just two houses away from him.

“It’s over, Branwen,” she growled as she ran across the first rooftop. Qrow simply stood there and watched, his smirk staying perfectly in place.

Harriet smirked right back at him and she ran onto the next rooftop.

But that smirk, just as quickly as it appeared, jumped off her face as the rooftop she stood atop caved in on itself.

Qrow released a dark chuckle and slowly approached the wrecked scene. Harriet struggled under the wood of the roof, her torso trapped under a large support beam. She looked like a turtle stuck on its back, and it was all Qrow could do not to laugh...so he didn’t even try not to.

Still, Qrow knew from experience that the support beam of that roof was quite rotted and clearly not big nor strong enough to kill or even seriously injure her. That said, he also knew that it was all the same more than enough to keep her occupied under it for a nice, nice while.

“You’re right!” Qrow called. “It is over, just not for me. Must be your unlucky day.”

“Branwen!” Harriet shouted.

“Hey! Not my fault the kingdom doesn't invest enough into local infrastructure!” Qrow replied, the now devilish smirk on his face still present, betraying any innocence his mocking tone may have had. “Let’s just thank the Gods that no one lives there, and that you’re safe and secure under that beam!”

Harriet’s eyes flared at the jests. She glowed yellow, clearly trying to use her semblance to free herself, but to no avail. “Stop him!” she then yelled, likely to her guards, but from the view Qrow had of the town, it looked to be towards no one in particular.

This was almost going to be too easy.

But still aware that guards would be on his tail soon, so as not to tempt fate any more than he already had, Qrow gave the sight below him a final snort before taking off on his current course once more.

With a moment to take for himself at last in his gras, Qrow lowered himself from the next low-to-the-ground rooftop he could find and landed in another deserted alleyway. He placed a hand against one of the alley’s walls, taking laborious breaths only kept quiet thanks to years of on-the-job training. In his line of work, too much noise was the difference between a full belly and a jail cell.

A few minutes passed as Qrow calculated the rest of his escape. He still had at least a mile’s run to get out of the town and into the forest, and of course, distance wasn’t the only thing he had to take into consideration, not by a long shot.

As if on cue, one of those things made themselves known. The sudden sound of metal clashing with stone from behind him had Qrow freeze in place.

“Finally,” a voice spoke from out of his line of sight. “Managed to catch up to you.”

Qrow remained frozen, but only for another half a second as he realized who he was speaking to.

When he finally did, all he could do was roll his eyes and remind himself that this was why he worked alone as he turned around and greeted his accomplice.

“Gods, can you run,” Mercury continued, taking deep breaths of his own, though completely devoid of the hushedness that Qrow had long since mastered.

“Well, if we did this at night like I said we should, you probably wouldn’t have had to run like that. But no. For some asinine reason, it had to be done in broad daylight, and I cannot for the life of me understand why.”

Mercury grunted and shrugged. “I was busy, and we’ve all gotta do what we’ve gotta do. Even a thief like you understands that, right?”

“A thief like me,” Qrow mocked through a scoff. “I know this wasn’t your first time doing this either. And I’m a bandit. There’s a difference.”

“I don’t have your reputation,” Mercury shot back. “And no, there isn’t.”

“As I’ll remind you, it’s thanks to that reputation that we’re about to make enough money to buy our own thieves to argue over this stuff. And yes, there is.”

Suddenly, Qrow grew quiet and signaled to Mercury to do the same as he listened to the sounds coming from the streets. He could hear a number of footsteps stepping in a way he knew well.

Guards were approaching.

“We have to get out of here, and fast,” Qrow whispered. He looked ahead, and upon finding their best option, gestured to Mercury to follow as he headed in that direction.

For three brief minutes, they were able to retain their anonymity and walk through the streets innocently-seeming enough.

However, at the sight of one of the general’s knights and the gleam of recognition she held in her eyes, Qrow knew that anonymity was as good as gone.

The knight called for backup and the sound of hastening footsteps had Qrow and Mercury once more rushing through the streets.

While the whole affair should’ve had Qrow terrified of being caught, it was a sense of anticipation and well-earned confidence that he found himself to be stricken with as he ran away from the guards.

This was one hell of a way to spend a morning, and in just a few hours, he’d be out of this village, at the black market, and swimming in money.

And maybe then, he could actually do something worthwhile with his life for a change.

...Well, Qrow wasn’t lying when he called himself a complicated man.

#fair game #rwby #qrow branwen #mercury black #tangled au

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thanatosbananatos · 5 years ago

Text

What in the heckin' heck is Hanji's backstory? -- A Meta

At this rate, Yams is never going to tell us.

I guess it may not be all that important to the story, but then again, knowing his writing style, he really enjoys leaving mysteries, and it won't surprise me in the slightest if this series ends with a lot of the mysteries being unsolved. Hanji's backstory will likely be one of them.

As a disclaimer, I use she/her pronouns for Hanji, but Isayama specifically has stated that Hanji's gender is irrelevant, so please feel free to use whatever pronouns you'd like. If Hanji was real, I don't think she'd care, either...

Anyway, I want to start this meta laying out the facts we already know about Hanji BEFORE the year 845.

--Hanji had joined the Corps for ??? reason, and had a thirst to kill the Titans mercilessly, just like Eren at the start of the story. She was “fueled by insecurity and hate.” However, she kicked a Titan's head and was fascinated by how light it was, which began her obsession with the Titans from a scientific standpoint.

--Hanji does not bathe regularly and doesn't care about hygiene. Apparently Levi has to knock her out to get her to bathe.

--Hanji doesn't care about gender. Or at least, Isayama said it doesn't matter to the story. In a very early interview, he stated that Hanji was female but had moments of masculinity, which means she's gender-fluid or nonbinary.

--Hanji was in the Corps before Levi, Isabel, and Farlan joined.

--Hanji has known Erwin, Mike, and others for a little while--it's a quick little thing, but in episode one of season one, Hanji is shown to be in the same squad as Erwin when Shardis was the Commander.

--Hanji has anger issues. Isayama has stated that she is the scariest character when angered, and is also a different person with and without her glasses/goggles.

Aaaaand that's it.

Thanks, Yams.

Well, if the Wings of Counterattack game is to be believed, Hanji was also a super cute kid who was always kind of androgynous and messy-haired and had bad vision. Super cute. I love.

But that's really it. Hanji didn't even get a character song, despite Romi Park having the singing voice of a fallen angel that's going to drag me straight into hell where there are hot jazz musicians and Satan serves us all whiskey on the rocks. Did y'all know she released a jazz/pop album? It's fire and you can't stop me from thinking about Hanji being able to sing like that.

...I'm getting off track.

ANYWAY.

Compared to many other recurring characters in the series, Hanji has a very limited amount of backstory. She's never even drawn as younger, even in the panel we get of her kicking the Titan's head--if you recall, it's just a dark scribble with a scary-looking grin.

That being said, Isayama has indeed been dropping bread crumbs here and there with clues throughout the series that can lead us to a conclusion about Hanji's past.

Where was Hanji born and raised?

I think it's fair to say that Hanji was not raised with wealth.

It's hard to draw conclusions about her exact family, but considering her being totally chill with not bathing for weeks and being a little bit of a...gremlin, she probably grew up somewhere in Maria, or in the slums of someplace in Rose. However, I tend to lean more toward Maria.

For me, it's not really an issue of just her hygiene--it's also her social skills. Again, we know ZILCH about her parents/guardians, so they could have been weirdos, but I think also that Hanji just didn't have the proper upbringing to gain boundaries like normal people. She gets up in people's faces, she can be very physical/grabby, and she can be argumentative and stubborn to a fault. I think it's fair to sometimes call her actions childish, though some of them also are symptoms of something like ADHD.

I want to argue, however, that she is just eccentric. I think it's part of who she is and was raised to be--or perhaps it's from a lack of attention.

She also just doesn't care about a lot of things that people raised in high-status upbringings would care about. She literally throws on her uniform jacket over her pajamas when called out to see Pastor Nick's death scene. Showering/bathing every day is not a priority,but it's also not something that bothers her. For instance, I'm incredibly busy, but I shower every day because anxiety dictates it to be so, but I also just enjoy being clean. Hanji is super busy and could make time to shower/bathe more than she doesn't, but she doesn't see it as a priority and never once is it mentioned that she pays any mind to it.

Regarding her gender, I wonder if she was an only child. It's possible that there were expectations put on her to be more of a “lady,” but she was much more concerned with studying and learning.

That's just speculation, of course. Some people just are the way that they are.

However, I think she was an only child for a couple of other reasons, too.

First, I think that economically, if she did grow up in Maria, one child was all that her parents could afford. There are also just not a lot of people in the walled world with siblings; it's just not very convenient to add to an already-starving population, I suppose.

But also, I think her love for studying might be connected to this. I know that, as a kid growing up with older brothers MUCH older than me and not a lot of friends, I loved to read to the point that I owned my own encyclopedias and actually read them. A lot of kids who grow up lonely/isolated tend to do the same.

Especially if she was already such an extroverted kid, I think she'd need the stimulation.

Why did Hanji hate the Titans?

It's possible to think about this from a couple of different angles, but there's one that I prefer over the other.

First, we could consider that Hanji perhaps lost someone she cared about to the Titans. Maybe her parents joined the military and were killed. Maybe her sibling, or aunt or uncle, or grandparents.

Second, we could consider that she valued freedom and independence, and that she considered the Titans to be something that stood in the way of that.

Personally, I think the second one is more likely. Of course, it's possible that both happened! We really don't know.

However, I lean toward the second option because of Hanji's personality, and the little we know about her when she joined the Corps. She was a bit unhinged (as all interesting characters are), and she was very violent. This tends to be a characteristic of people who are forced to keep everything in for a long amount of time.

In psychology, there are two categories of people: externalizers and internalizers. For instance, if a child endures trauma, and their reaction is to lash out violently (physically or verbally), or to become selfish and attention-seeking, that is considered externalizing. On the other hand, if the child endures the trauma and then keeps it locked up, considers the abuser to be the “real” victim, learns self-blame, etc., then that is internalizing.

For instance, Erwin is probably an internalizer, when we take into account his father's death and the trauma he endured because of it. Armin is also an internalizer.

Hanji, however, is probably an externalizer. She shows a lot of the signs of someone who has perhaps undergone something traumatic/repeated traumatic events and has lashed out as a sign of “dealing with it.” It's a sign of emotional immaturity, so it makes sense that that's what Hanji was doing as a young'n. She's also quite empathetic, which could add fuel to any flames, and she's also proven to be a skilled manipulator.

What was the trauma? I think it was the feeling of isolation.

One thing that really is evident to me is how goddamned EXTROVERTED Hanji is. If we have the scale E to I, Hanji is probably one of the farthest if not THE farthest over on the E side of ALL of the characters in this story. She likes to talk, she verbalizes everything, she enjoys people, and she clearly gains energy from social situations.

I have a feeling that Hanji has always been a bright kid, and that perhaps she was understimulated as a result of growing up not only in a poor community, but being surrounded by this big-ass walls and constantly being told, “No, you can't go outside. You'll be eaten alive by Titans.”

She would very naturally turn into this teenager/young adult with a thirst for absolutely destroying the things that kept her locked up in the first place.

Again, I think either situation is likely, but I have the feeling that it goes deeper than just getting revenge for someone's death. Something tells me that Hanji has been looking for answers to deep questions for a long time.

So, Hanji joins the military. Then what?

Well, from the hints that Yams has dropped, Hanji met Erwin, Mike, Nile, and perhaps others at some point. I don't think that Hanji was in the same class as them, save for maybe Moblit, but I think she probably knew them. This part is a bit hazy, considering that we don't know what age Erwin and company were when they joined the military. Mike is canonically older than them all, pushing 40 years old (like a fine wine) at around 850. Erwin is supposedly in his late 30's, and I believe even Levi is older than Hanji, which would put her around 30 at in the year 850.

Now, if we think about when Levi entered the Survey Corps, which I believe was in the year 846...

Hanji was not a new recruit that year, and she already seemed to have a pretty close friendship with Moblit. She was also more emotionally mature.

In other words, Hanji had probably already kicked the head of that Titan by the time Maria fell.

That means, it had to have been before Shiganshina/Maria fell that she had a change of heart.

During all of this, Mike and Erwin were also in the Corps, and they probably witnessed this change.

However, despite it being explicitly mentioned in the manga, this is the hardest part to flesh out about Hanji's backstory.

We at least know the details of her becoming a Squad Leader specifically focused on the science of Titans, thanks to the OVA for Ilse's Journal. It was thanks to her curiosity, emotional maturity, and a bit of dumb luck that it happened.

But before this, we don't know much else about her time in the military, and it's hard to discern anything without knowing details about the others, too.

I know that there are snippets of details in smartpasses (is that what they're called?) that reveal that she, Mike, and Erwin were friends, etc., but that really doesn't give us much to go on. Much of it, unfortunately, remains a mystery.

However, there is one last thing I want to point out:

In the first episode of season two, after Hanji lets Nick down instead of yeeting him off of the wall, she mentions “I haven't felt this way since I first went outside of the walls. Talk about scary.”

There are many people who interpret this line as her fear of the Titans, but I think it's fear of her own anger. She was ready to brutally kill someone who could have otherwise provided valuable information, just because of her pure rage.

I think this moment, along with a couple of others (kicking down the table and saying “it was a roach,” for instance), drive home some of the assumptions from earlier in this meta. Consider the torture scene and her actions compared to Levi's. Levi grew up in an environment where violence was used as a form of communication. You don't see him saying a lot as he punches Sannes over and over. He doesn't stick around to talk to the men once they're returned to their jail cells.

Hanji is, however, a bit too eager to rip the nails and teeth out of this guy (partially as revenge for Pastor Nick's death, I'm certain). She rips into them verbally as well, as they sit defeated in their jail cell. Her anger is a terrifying force.

So what's the point?

Well, there's not really one.

I just would like to know more about one of my favorite fictional characters of all time.

Is it important to the story? Well, not necessarily.

But what if this backstory is more than I wrote here? What if it's something quite wild or disturbing? What if it digs further into the fundamentals of humanity? Was she abused? Was she bullied? Is she just psychologically disturbed?

Like I said, we may never know, and at this point (2019/09), the series seems to be coming to an end.

I personally think it's really too bad. The story is a character-driven one, so to leave so much mystery around Hanji's past is very curious. Hanji tends to get shoved to the side a lot (though not as much as some other MCs), so it’s pretty frustrating to see that even the creator isn’t divulging more information...

Then again, I guess it does make writing fics easier, right...?

#hanji zoe #hange zoe #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #meta #snk meta #aot meta #attack on titan meta #shingeki no kyojin meta #my meta #please treat her right for once #i'm so tired of how hanji gets treated lol #hanji defense squad

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irondad-defensesquad · 5 years ago

Text

The time Miles met Tony Stark and made a discovery

Fandom: MCU

Rating: G

Relationships: Miles & Peter, Tony & Peter

Characters: Miles Morales, Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Aaron Davis

Summary: In which little Miles Morales tries to help a wounded, stubborn Spider-Man until Iron Man arrives trying not to freak out. Part 2 of the Miles in the MCU series.

Word count: 2,818

Read Part 1 of the series

Also on AO3!

WARNINGS: character injury

Sometimes, Miles thinks his parents worry over him too much. In fact, he should emphasize his father in that statement – Jefferson is a police officer and so demands safety at all costs, to the point of not trusting Aaron or some kids that Miles has befriended, either at school or in his neighborhood. The boy may understand given the mess that Brooklyn (or New York as a whole) can be, but it’s not like he’s stupid or unaware of his surroundings. He may be young, but he has become more familiar with walking around, thanks to his uncle and those boys Jefferson disapproves of. Miles is not careless, unlike what his father appears to believe.

After another school day, Miles heads to Aaron’s with his friends as his parents are working. It’s a good thing his school is near where he and his uncle live; and the other boys are great companions, as they laugh together in the street. The group is pretty diverse, Miles being one of the youngest while others are older, which makes it a more welcoming environment, makes him feel included. He just wishes his father could understand this…

When they’re closer to Aaron’s apartment, the kids disperse to their own destinations and thus Miles is on his own. The past days have been relatively peaceful since… since the night his uncle was shot. It took him some time to recover and he has been staying in more often due to that, too. Miles reminded to buy him a snack, which was actually provided by his dad out of anyone else. That doesn’t mean they’re in good terms, though.

Regardless, it has been a good day; and now he’s going to hang out with Aaron for the rest of the afternoon. The boy is smiling, relaxed. Hopefully nothing unusual would ruin it for him.

… that’s what he thought before he hears loud noises coming from the alley he was passing by. It sounds like something crashed the several trash cans. It might have been a dog or cat, or anything else, except he also catches on a pained groan in there.

Maybe Miles should’ve headed home, his uncle is waiting for him. Instead, however, he ends up entering the dark alley to get a closer look.

Some of the cans have fallen, so he smells the horrible garbage, yet remains quiet to not be noticed by whoever is there. Other bins are still standing, so he hides behind them and raises his head until he’s able to see a tall figure tripping again. It may be dark but the first things he notices are the familiar red and blue tones he himself wears as a hoodie. And, just like that, Miles meets Spider-Man close again.

He would’ve been happy to see his hero again, weren’t it for the fact that the other can barely stand on his feet. Spider-Man leans against the wall until he’s sitting on the dirty ground. Miles notices his suit is ripped in some parts, revealing… dark bruises smudging his skin. The boy gasps without making a sound and, before he can do anything, he freezes. Spider-Man is… he’s taking his mask off!

Miles covers his mouth with a hand when he… he discovers the hero’s true appearance. Without a mask, an… actual teenager is exposed, revealing messy and sweaty, brown hair and round face features. There’s a small amount of blood staining his cheek as well.

Miles should have suspected. His voice really is higher than he expected but never thought too much about it before. Now, he knows Spider-Man is a young boy who looks after the people from Queens (and Brooklyn as well, he supposes). Which isn’t a bad thing, actually.

But it doesn’t matter now – Spider-Man is hurt right in front of him and Miles is just standing there! He should do something!

Except the boy doesn’t know what to do. Heck, he hated to imagine what could have happened to his uncle if Spider-Man hadn’t shown up. Now the hero needs his help.

Miles realizes he has no phone; but hey, Aaron’s apartment is not too far, maybe the adult can call an ambulance or do anything as long as he’s safe. Well, he can’t waste time!

The younger steps forward. Spider-Man hasn’t even realized he’s right there; the teenager is looking at… at nowhere, wincing in pain at the same time. His chest is moving slowly, as if breathing is too much of an effort. Miles decides to reveal himself for once, hoping he doesn’t scare him.

“Uh… Spider-Man?” He calls him.

As soon as he said it, the teen jumps and gasps, searches for his mask and tries to put it back; yet he’s panicking so he fails at hiding his face.

“Hey, hey.” Miles sounds calm, trying to soothe him. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

The brown-haired boy appears to calm down after that, but he moans in pain again and stiffens his body. Miles tries not to stare at his wounds and instead aims to focus on helping him.

“Wait… Miles?” Spider-Man says, his voice higher.

Part of him feels a bit flustered that the hero remembers his name but reminds himself that’s not the point.

“What happened to you?” Miles asks.

The hero groans and replies, “I sorta... fell after stopping some bad guys selling weapons. My web shooters… kinda got busted, ugh.”

Spider-Man pats his own hands in his right pulse, the black part of his suit. He frowns as he can’t get it to work, and mutters, “Sh- Shoot.”

“Do you think you can stand up? I could take you to my uncle’s, it’s not far,” Miles suggests. “He can help you with those wounds—”

“What? No, no, no, you don’t have to! I’ll just- figure out what’s wrong with these and then I can get out just fine!”

“But- you’re hurt!” Miles protests.

“Really, it’s not a big deal. My spider powers give me super healing, these will be gone within the blink of an eye. Easy peasy.”

The black-haired boy wants to believe him, but it doesn’t… appear the “super healing” is having any effect. Besides, he can just tell how in pain Spider-Man is with every movement he makes.

“Let me help you,” The younger pleads. “I don’t think you should go out there like that—”

“Relax, buddy, I’m gonna be just fine. Just let me get this right…”

The black thing in the teenager’s pulse projects what appears to be… the settings of said web shooters? Miles has never thought just how advanced his suit is. It doesn’t even take long for the older to figure out what is wrong.

“Welp, looks like they were turned off somehow… those stupid alien weapons almost did a number out of it,” Spider-Man mumbles to himself.

Finally, the projection thing is gone. Spider-Man sighs and says, “It’s all settled, I’d better get going.”

Miles’ eyes widen. “Wha- but you can barely get on your feet!”

“Hey, remember I have super healing; I already feel fine!”

Except he doesn’t. The hero is only able to stand up since he uses the wall behind him as support. Miles is looking at him in disbelief.

“Come on, don’t do this,” The younger begs. “Your healing isn’t working, man! You’ve gotta get help!”

“Even if I needed, I can’t let anyone discover my identity, Miles,” Spider-Man argues. “It’s dangerous.”

“But what if you get hurt again?”’

“I can handle it, I’m Spider-Man!”

Miles groans. Good god, he really is a teenager. Too stubborn! Before he can try and stop him again, Spider-Man puts on his mask and says, “Karen, trace the fastest route back to Queens.”

“Hey, wait-!” The kid stands in front of him, so he doesn’t walk.

Yet Miles realizes that Spider-Man continues, “What- Karen, I’m fine, I have enhanced healing, remember? I fixed my web shooters, too!” It… seems as though he’s talking to this Karen Miles has no idea who it is. The hero even awaits before protesting, “No, it’s gonna be okay! You- You don’t need to call him, okay? He’s- He’s busy, I—Karen, NO, don’t call-!”

Whatever it was, Spider-Man isn’t amused. He lets out a defeated groan and falls back to the ground as he takes his mask off again, wincing again but quieter. Miles blinks in confusion.

“Uh, who’s Karen?” He asks, finally.

Spider-Man snaps his head at his direction. “She’s like… y’know… a computer my suit has. Artificial intelligence.”

“Oh. She talks to you and everything?”

“Yeah. She’s a big help; she shows me what I can do to do a better job, like track criminals or weapons, fastest routes to anywhere you can imagine, call the emergencies and so on… she’s also a good listener when I have no one to talk to.”

Miles can’t help smirking as he asks, “So she’s like your computer wife? Like Plankton’s?”

“You could say that,” The teenager laughs, weak. “She worries about me, too…”

The environment is less tense, except Miles won’t stop feeling bad about his hero’s wounds. Though he remembers how Spider-Man and Karen argued just then, noting that the former did mention a ‘he’, not a hospital, as far as the younger boy is concerned.

“She called for help, right?" Miles asks, Spider-Man nods in response. "Then… who did she call?”

“Um… you see…”

His voice dies out as he snaps his head toward a certain direction. Miles follows his lead, taking notice of a bright, yellow light coming from the sky approaching at a surprising speed.

“What is that?!” Miles yells, terrified. Before he can get Spider-Man out of there, the teenager already soothes him.

“It’s not a threat, it’s okay.”

And he’s… he’s right. When the flying object is close enough, Miles recognizes the… metallic red and yellow.

No way.

There’s no freaking way it’s Iron Man flying all the way there!

Once the metal hits the ground, Miles refrains himself from screaming. It really is the suit of armor that is so well-known worldwide. It’s so much brighter… and way more breathtaking in person!

He keeps his excitement to himself, though, when Iron Man takes no less than a second to step towards Spider-Man and ignoring Miles.

“Holy crap, kid, what the hell happened to you?!” His somewhat robotic voice is filled with concern and certain desperation. “Your A.I. said you have broken ribs and several wounds from beatings, and you fell from a height of six meters-!”

“It’s fine, Mister Stark, I’m okay—”

“Alright, cut the bullshit, kid—”

“Hey! Shh!”

“Wh- don’t you FUCKING SHUSH ME, YOUNG MAN!”

“Mister Stark, there are children present!” The teen whispers angrily and leans his head towards Miles, who’s watching the scene in utter silence; which worsens once Iron Man turns to him as well.

“Oh, forgot you were here. My bad.” He sounds a little indifferent, when he looks back at the teen. “Wait, your mask—"

“It’s fine! M-Mister Stark, this is my friend Miles, I uh- I saved his uncle. Twice.” Spider-Man introduces them to one another (and Miles won’t contain the little smile as he’s referred as Spider-Man’s friend) “Miles, Mister Stark- wait, are you… like, actually here?”

“Yes, I am actually here.” Iron Man’s faceplate reveals the unforgettable face of Tony Stark, showing a displeased, worried expression as he turns back to Spider-Man. “This is important.”

The spider-teen sighs. “Sir, really, I’m fine.”

“I swear to Thor’s beard if you say that one more time—”

“You really didn’t have to—”

“Of course I had to! I can’t just let you go around and hurt yourself!”

“I have enhanced healing!”

“Which has been compromised because you have been skipping lunch and sleep in days!”

“What, you’re monitoring even that now? I’m not a baby!”

“Yes, because you don’t take care of yourself!”

“Oh, look who’s talking,” Spider-Man mocks.

“That is not the point!”

“I could totally handle this! You won’t let me do anything!”

“No, you couldn’t! What if you fell even higher and got yourself hurt more?!”

“Ugh, you’re overreacting!”

“I am overreacting?!”

The argument goes on for a while and Miles is just… there, staring. He has so many questions and yet can’t believe he’s standing right beside Iron Man and Spider-Man. And yet… the entire situation is so... he can't even describe it.

Before he can think it through, he ends up listening to their fight again.

“No, that’s enough,” Iron Man says, interrupting the teen. “I’m taking you to the Tower right now. No more Spider-Manning for the next two weeks.”

“What?! That’s ridiculous!”

“Don’t make that months,” The older man warns.

Spider-Man actually pouts. Miles can’t believe this is happening.

“Kid, I’m just trying to protect you, alright.” Iron Man softens his voice a great deal. “You did a great job taking out those alien weapons back there, I saw it. But you’re not taking care of yourself. You’re starving, you’re sleep deprived and Spider-Man can’t help the little guy when he can’t do the same for himself.

“When you’re wounded like this, the first thing you should do is call me and not rely on your healing. What if your bones heal wrong, have you thought of that? And you could get an infection, too. Spider-kids aren’t invincible.”

The frown in the vigilante’s face is gone and he mutters, ashamed, “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You could never bother me, kiddo. That’s what I’m here for, to look after you. Don’t think you’re a nuisance, because you’re not. Got it?”

Spider-Man sighs in defeat and nods in understanding. Miles swears he’s never seen Iron Man giving him such a… a soft look. He has read one thing or another describing Tony Stark as this cold, egocentric figure… not that Miles fully believes in the media, but he admits he sort of shared the same impression.

“Hold still,” The man says as his arms reach for Spider-Man. “I’m gonna carry you and we’ll fly there.”

“Hey, come on!”

“Not gonna stop me.”

“Nooo, stop, this is so embarrassing—”

“Yeah, serves you right. That makes you learn not to do this again.” Iron Man puts the mask back on the older boy’s face.

For once, Miles finally steps in.

“Um, w-where are you taking him?” He asks.

“To the Aven- Stark Tower. A med team that will make sure his identity isn’t revealed to the public.”

Miles nods, sighs in relief. “Oh, okay... that's good.”

He expects Iron Man to fly away from there immediately but he… actually talks to Miles.

“Hey, uh… thanks for keeping him company, squirt,” The man tells him. “Who knows what could’ve happened if you didn’t keep an eye on him.”

Spider-Man groans but adds, in a softer voice, “Yeah… he’s really good. Thanks, Miles.”

Miles swears his cheeks are heating up. “O-Oh, no problem!”

Iron Man smiles at him. He’s never washing his eyes again.

“I’ll see you around, bud,” Spider-Man says.

“Yeah, I’ll… I'll see you!”

Finally, the two heroes take off. Miles watches them as they go, until they are no longer seen in his radius. He realizes he has a huge grin on his face, and he can’t wait to tell Aaron—

Oh, right! He was supposed to be there! How long has it been?

Even then, Miles sprints to his uncle’s apartment, bouncing in excitement like never before.

“Miles, where were you? I was almost leaving to find you, were you with those kids-?”

“You won’t believe what just happened, Uncle Aaron! I saw Spider-Man again! And I met Iron Man, too!!”

“Woah, what?” Aaron’s eyes widen in surprise. “Alright, start from the beginning. I wanna know how my nephew has become famous with the heroes.”

Miles rolls his eyes but is still smiling. “So, I found Spider-Man not too far from here because I think his webs were busted? I tried to help him, but he insisted he was fine…” He decides he wouldn’t be telling his uncle about the hero’s identity. He did make a promise to Spider-Man, even if he trusts Aaron more than anyone else.

“… so, his suit called someone and suddenly Iron Man arrived to help! And he thanked me for watching Spider-Man!”

“Wow, that’s amazing, Miles,” Aaron smiles, ruffles his dark hair. “You really are a hero.”

Miles giggles, flustered. Then, his smile falls a bit.

“It’s funny, though… Iron Man wasn’t who I was expecting at all. The things I read about him are pretty different,” He comments.

“Oh yeah? What did you think of him, then?”

“He’s- He’s cool, y’know. But…”

Miles remembers Spider-Man and Iron Man arguing as if it’s the most familiar, common thing in the world. The way the two spoke to one another… Iron Man's scolding... Miles shakes his head and snorts.

“… he's a huge dad."

#fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #miles morales #peter parker #tony stark #irondad #aaron davis #writing #fics #my fics #injury tw #mcu #marvel cinematic universe

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queenmorgawse · 5 years ago

Text

here we go again

CHAPTER ONE. modern au wangxian ft. family feels, inspired by mamma mia. read on ao3 for end notes.

Wei Yuan's day begins, unusually, with the loud whirring of a landing helicopter.

“Don’t just leave your plate here!” Wen Qing chides, but by the time she pokes her head outside, the boy is already halfway up the hill, shouting back apologies as he crams the last of his toast into his mouth. He stops just short of the landing zone, watching in delight as the helicopter’s rotor blades slow then stop, and three silhouettes emerge from the small dust cloud their arrival created. “Good morning, uncle, auntie! Hi, didi!” he calls, waving his arms in an attempt to clear his sight.

Jin Zixuan, Wei Yuan’s gufu , lifts his sunglasses from his nose and tucks them on his collar before shaking the boy’s hand. “Hello, A-Yuan.”

“Yuanyuan, you’re growing so fast, I can’t catch up anymore!” This is from Wei Yuan’s guma , Jiang Yanli, who’s already thrown her arms around him. He buries his face in her blouse, breathing in the breezy scent of lotuses. She strokes his hair, cooing. “Seriously, you’re getting so tall. You’ll shoot past your dad any minute now!”

“Not that much, auntie,” he protests weakly when she lets him go.

“Pscht. He told me the same thing when he was little, and look how he is now. Ling-er! Come say hi, don’t be rude.”

Jin Ling, Wei Yuan’s favorite (and only) cousin, is still lingering behind his parents, airpods jammed into his ears. He looks up at the sound of his mother’s voice, though, cracks one of his rare smiles, and accepts Wei Yuan’s hug ⎯ which means he stands still enough for Wei Yuan to embrace him, though he jerks away with a muffled protest at the attempt to pat his head.

“Your luggage is already here,” Wei Yuan says, turning back toward his uncle and aunt. “I’ll help carry it to your rooms.” ( Who else could it be? No one brings that many brand name suitcases for a month’s stay, and if they did, they certainly wouldn’t be stacked in the Wei family’s own living room. )

“Thank you, darling, we’ll take care of that,” Jiang Yanli reassures him. “Do you know where your father went? I thought he’d be with you.”

“He’s kind of all over the place these days, with the anniversary coming up.” All over the place is an euphemism ; the list of things to plan seems endless, and as usual, Wei Yuan’s father doesn’t trust anyone but Wen Qing and himself to get things done.

“He’ll get here soon, though! I’m sure he heard you coming!” the boy quickly adds when a worried look crosses his aunt’s face. The entire island probably heard the landing, but then again, given its size, it’s not much of a statement.

Jiang Yanli gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze. “It’s okay, Yuanyuan, we know how it is, we’ll take it from here. We know our way around, don’t we, Zixuan?”

“Of course, of course,” his uncle says, then jerks his chin at Jin Ling. “A-Ling, why don’t you go and catch up with A-Yuan? Weren’t you excited to be here?”

“Don’t tease him, love,” Jiang Yanli chides, her eyes too full of amusement to truly come off as stern. “But yes, you boys go take a walk, stretch your legs a little after the flight. Don’t take too long, though! Come back to say hi to da-jiu, okay?”

“Yes, mama,” Jin Ling mutters at the same time Wei Yuan says “Of course, auntie.” With one last glance to check the adults actually did mean it, they leave Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli to give the last of their instructions to their pilot and run back down the hill, leaving only footprints behind.

---

Wei Yuan has to admire his cousin’s poker face, because Jin Ling morphs into an enthusiastic puppy the moment they’re out of earshot. “So! What’s the super duper mysterious thing you couldn’t even text me about?”

“It’s not that I couldn’t, I wanted to tell you in person!” Wei Yuan protests. They settle in his favorite conversation spot, an old, gnarled tree so sturdy it barely moves at all when the two boys climb into it and find comfortable seats where the thickest of its branches meet.

This is when the first tendrils of what feels suspiciously like stage fright begin to curl in his stomach. Don’t be stupid, Wei Yuan chides himself. It’s too late to take it back anyway! With new resolution, he forces himself to grit out : “I think I know who my other father is.”

Jin Ling gasps, clapping both his hands over his mouth. Wei Yuan can’t tell if he’s genuinely surprised or just being dramatic. “For real?”

“I said I think !”

“Well, you can’t just say that and not follow up! Spit it out!”

“You’ve got to promise you’re not gonna snitch on me. Like, I’ll be grounded for life if you do,” Wei Yuan insists.

“Pinky promise.” They both have to lean a dangerous way out of their seats to lace their fingers together, but Wei Yuan does feel a little more reassured when Jin Ling lets go.

“Okay, so,” he starts again, clearing his throat. “We were spring cleaning last year, so I was in charge of doing the attic because Dad said the rest was too messy and he’d do it himself, and I found this box with old sketches in it. I’m not gonna show you, though, it’s pretty private.”

“But you went through them,” Jin Ling points out. “That’s not very private.”

Wei Yuan flushes. “I didn’t know what they were at first! You know how dad is, he doodles all the time and leaves it all over the house.” He spares a thought for eleven-year-old Wei Yuan, who sincerely thought this was just another batch of his father’s mindless drawings. “Okay, get this, I was just sorting through the boxes because auntie A-Qing wanted to clear the space, so I had to throw things out⎯”

---

Wei Yuan blows a layer of dust off an ancient-looking wooden box and immediately chokes, waving his free hand in front of his face in an effort to clear the air. He gives it an experimental rattle, then, when the contents barely make a sound, spends a solid five minutes digging his nails into the hair-thin line that runs across it before he successfully pries it open.

He only barely keeps the dozens of stacked-up sheets from spilling onto the floor. As things are, most of them fall into his lap. Picking one up at random, Wei Yuan immediately recognizes the style. There, in pencil and charcoal, are the same bold strokes his father puts to paper every other day. He would know better than most ; the protagonists of his childhood stories still decorate the walls of his bedroom, lovingly preserved in hand-painted frames.

But while Wei Yuan's collection is a motley group of characters as different from one another as father and son could make them, all these drawings represent the same person : a young man with long black hair and a face as regal as an ancient god's. As Wei Yuan flips through the sheets, he finds the man looking back at him, bent over a book with glasses perched on his nose, tying his hair back with a cloud-patterned ribbon — even one in which he stares straight at the artist, his smile soft and lovely. Wei Yuan looks at that one for a long time before mustering the will to put it away.

Just behind it, he finds the letter.

He can instantly tell if wasn’t written by his father. There’s no trace of Wei Ying’s messy scrawl here, only script so neat it could have been typewritten. He quickly skims through it and⎯

“I can’t read that,” Wei Yuan moans, quickly shoving it in between the sketches again.

He almost wishes it was something saucy. Instead, it feels like peering into the depths of someone’s heart, so intimate he feels like slamming a non-existent door shut and leaving the words to their business.

( He can still see them in his mind. The sun rises in my chest every time I see you. I never want to look away. )

There’s a signature. There, in elegant cursive, is the name Lan Zhan.

“A-Yuan, lunch’s ready!” his father calls from downstairs. Wei Yuan trips to hide the box behind his back before the man in question pokes his head through the hatch, hair full of rogue dust bunnies and sporting a lopsided grin. “C’mon, I made sandwiches.”

When the boy eyes him warily, Wei Ying rolls his eyes. “There’s no pepper in them, I promise. Come down before your auntie gets impatient, though.”

“I’ll be there in a minute, I just want to finish this pile!” Wei Yuan croaks.

“One minute.” Despite the ultimatum, his father winks at him and disappears again. Wei Yuan waits for the sound of his footsteps to fade to let out a sigh of relief.

The box’s content seem to stare back at him. Feeling only slightly guilty, he takes the letter out again and carefully folds it, stuffing it into his pocket before scrambling down the ladder.

---

It’s an entire afternoon of chores before Wei Yuan can excuse himself from the dinner table and climbs the stairs to uncle Wen Ning’s desk two steps at the time, making sure to shut the door behind him before he turns the computer on.

Lan Zhan , he types. The half-second the search results take to load seems to last eternally. His hand almost slips clicking on the top link, a Wikipedia article.

Lan Zhan, courtesy name Lan Wangji, born January 23 1984 in Gusu, China, is a celebrated singer and songwriter. His most successful single, Inquiry , was sold at more than…

Wei Yuan's eyes derail from the text, distracted by the article's picture. There, pale golden eyes glancing away from the camera, is the man from the sketches — older, perhaps, but more than recognizable in his otherworldly beauty.

His heart rate picks up, drumming in his chest. It's him. It's really him. Dad knew this guy. Dad liked him so much he drew him over and over again.

Just like that, Wei Yuan's enthusiasm deflates like a popped balloon.

His father has never shied away from the extravagant tales of his when-I-was-younger shenanigans, as embarrassing as they can get. If he knew someone so famous - no, if he was in love with him, Wei Yuan corrects himself, remembering the letter's gentle words -, wouldn't he have at least mentioned it?

This is how Wei Yuan’s life has always been : to the million-dollar question ( who’s my other dad? ), he’s always received the same answer, be it from his uncles or his aunts.

I don’t know, A-Yuan. Maybe you should ask your father instead.

That, of course, is an inevitable dead end. Wei Ying will ruffle his hair, maybe drop a casual can’t remember, baby, and change the subject. At this point, Wei Yuan has pretty much resigned himself never to get a straight answer from his father.

The screen in front of him seems like an ancient tome holding all the answers he’s looking for, if only he’ll bother to decipher them.

His eyes drift to a cloud-shaped logo, curling around an elegant character he recognizes as the Lan of Lan Wangji’s name. Cloud Recesses Entertainment, Wei Yuan reads. After a long moment spent staring at the computer, he grabs the nearest notepad, tears a page out of it and starts to scroll down the page.

---

“So, let me get this straight,” Jin Ling says slowly. “You found the guy you think is your dad, looked up his family's company, read their entire website, made a new email to write to them like you were an actual advertiser for the hotel and now they're having their company holidays here ?”

When put like that, it certainly sounds more convoluted (and borderline crazy) than Wei Yuan intended it to be. “...Yes?”

“And you couldn’t just invite him personally? Like a normal person?”

“ No! First, I probably wouldn’t even get past his fan mail. Second, what was I supposed to tell him? ‘Hi, I know you and my dad were in love before I was born because I looked through his stuff, and I’d like to know if you’re maybe my father too’? I’d die before I managed to send that!” He pauses to catch his breath. “Maybe he doesn’t even remember dad! Would you remember someone you met thirteen years ago and then never again?”

“I-I don’t know! Maybe?” Jin Ling splutters. “Anyway, da-jiu is gonna kill you when he finds out. Well, not kill you ‘cause he loves you too much, but you did think about that, right?”

“No! I mean...maybe I'm wrong, and it's just a coincidence. But I think I'll know when I talk to him. If he's not my dad, there's no need to tell him, it'd just be embarrassing.”

“So all of this is relying on a couple drawings and a gut feeling? That's what you're gonna use to explain?”

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

Jin Ling throws his hands up. “Really? You masterminded this whole thing and this is where you’re stumped?”

“I tried, okay?” Wei Yuan protests weakly. “Besides, dad’s gonna be so busy with your mom and shushu coming over. Maybe he won’t notice for a while, I can work something out in the meantime…”

“When’s that guy supposed to get here?”

Wei Yuan squints, trying to conjure up the schedule he scribbled in-between some chemistry notes. “Tomorrow, I’m pretty sure. I don’t have to worry about it right now, I guess.”

“More time to plan for your funeral, then.”

“Hilarious, I’m dying of laughter over here,” Wei Yuan deadpans back. “For real, you can’t tell anyone, okay? Not even your mom and dad,” he adds when Jin Ling opens his mouth again.

“Fine!” Though his cousin is wearing his usual pout again, he can tell the message went through alright. “Can we get ice cream now? It’s so hot on your stupid island.”

Wei Yuan stifles a smile, beckoning the other to get up. “Sure. Dad tried his hand at some mulberry thing, it’s pretty good, actually…”

---

“Jiang Cheng! Hey, Jiang Cheng!”

Some of the locals hide an indulgent smile behind their hands as a silhouette in jean overalls runs down the pier, skillfully avoiding crashing into tourists.

At the other end of the wooden boards, Jiang Cheng runs a hand down his face. The person behind him shakes silently, as if trying to repress a giggle and failing.

Wei Ying stops in front of the couple, beaming, before holding out his arms. Despite his apparent exasperation, Jiang Cheng steps into the hug all the same, though his expression turns long-suffering when his brother gives his back a vigorous rub.

As Wei Ying pulls away, his eyes drift to the other figure and immediately crinkle at the corners. “Huaisang! So you’re the mysterious plus one! What was it like riding the ferry like the rest of us?”

“Exotic,” Nie Huaisang sighs, which sends both of them into a fit of hysterics.

A few feet away, someone whispers, “Wait, Huaisang as in Nie Huaisang ? From the Untamed?”

“Yeah, but no pics, please!” Wei Ying chirps at the tittering tourists. “Leave my guy some privacy, he’s on holidays!”

“He’s not that worried about privacy,” Jiang Cheng grumbles. “I had to stop him from posting about us on every available account he has for three months.”

Wei Ying gapes. “Three months? You’ve been together for three months and you didn’t tell me about it? Jiang Cheng,” he sighs, pressing a hand to his heart as if covering a mortal wound, “I thought you were my brother.”

“He was hiding it from you in particular,” Nie Huaisang oh-so-helpfully points out, then snaps his fan open. “Said you couldn’t be trusted to keep it on the down low.” Wei Ying has the distinct impression he’s concealing a shit-eating grin.

“I’ve been mortally wounded,” Wei Ying moans, and dramatically collapses into Jiang Cheng’s arms, who pushes him back upright while swearing under his breath.

The episode might have turned into a small brawl right there on the pier, if not for Nie Huaisang’s T-shirt.

“Oh my God, you still have it!” Wei Ying all but squeals, grabbing the other man by the shoulders and pulling away his fan to inspect his outfit. “It's the original logo, right?”

Nie Huaisang proudly tugs on the lapels of his sheer jacket to show off the shirt beneath. “The one I drew in professor Hua's class? Yup.”

Wei Ying heaves a sigh, running his fingers over each ray of the sun-shaped logo. Suddenly, he’s back in college, and Nie Huaisang just texted him a rough sketch of their band’s design, oblivious to his art professor’s shadow over his shoulder. “Holy shit, I miss Sunshot. Remember that stunt we pulled at graduation?”

“My brother was on my ass about it for a whole year after that,” Nie Huaisang shrugs, then snaps his fingers. “It was so worth it, though.”

“Right? Jiang Cheng, aren’t you mad you didn’t do it with us?”

The interested party crosses his arms, glare barely suppressing the smile tugging at his mouth. “Making a show of yourselves like that? No.”

“Your loss, didi.”

Nie Huaisang snickers. “Don’t listen to him, he brought the shirt too.”

“I’ve had enough of you two,” Jiang Cheng gripes. “Is A-Jie here already? I miss having someone sensible around.”

“She and the peacock arrived this morning.” Wei Wuxian stretches languidly, shooting his brother a wide grin. “I’d come and hang out, but I’ve got some murals to redo before the next group gets here and they’re not gonna paint themselves.”

Jiang Cheng mutters something that sounds a suspicious lot like good riddance , but doesn’t pull away when Wei Ying loops an arm around his shoulders. “I missed you, though! Facetime’s not the same, you know?”

His brother seems to brace himself, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “Mom and Dad want you over for Christmas. You and A-Yuan. We can see each other then.”

Slowly, Wei Ying untangles himself from their half-embrace. “They do?” The unspoken question hangs between them : even Mom ?

“Yeah. They’ll probably call you themselves, but I thought I’d give you a heads up.”

Wei Ying’s heart feels warmer than before. In a characteristic display of older sibling assholishness, he ignores the soft, marshmallow-y fondness and reaches for Jiang Cheng to ruffle his hair. “Aww! Thanks, A-Cheng, that’s so sweet of you.”

“How do I ever put up with you?”

Nie Huaisang’s voice snaps them both back into reality. The actor waves his fan at them, smile playing at his lips. “Very tender, heartwarming, yadda yadda. Can we do this somewhere with AC, though? I’m sweating bullets here.”

“Alright, alright, can’t make the superstar wait! Gimme that.” Wei Ying barely waits for assent before grabbing Nie Huaisang’s suitcases, wincing at their weight before pulling them up the slope and toward his car.

“What about me?” Jiang Cheng asks as he readjusts his grip on his own luggage and follows suit.

Wei Ying barely turns back. “What about you? You know the way, didi, carry it yourself.”

“You -”

Jiang Cheng’s outraged protests and his companions’ laughter seems to linger long after the jeep has left nothing but dust in its wake.

Three months ago

The telephone rings, shrill and ears-piercing. Wen Ning picks it up almost as second nature, mechanically bringing it to his ear as he flips through their latest batch of flyers. “Lotus Pier Resort, what can I do for you?”

A few awkward seconds of silence pass. He pats around his desk for a pen, drops it to the floor, and attempts to maintain a more-or-less steady voice as he crawls around on the carpet to find it again. “Ah, yes. Your flight got delayed? By how long?”

The scritch of his newly-retrieved pen on the nearest post-it. “If we can change your reservation? Um...it’s half a day, I’ll see what I can do. If necessary, will you mind different arrangements for the time being? I’ll talk to other hotels in the area, but I don’t think it’ll come to that...”

A pause.

“Okay, to confirm, this is Luo Qingyang, calling for Cloud Recesses Entertainment…?”

Present days

Wei Ying wipes his forehead, further smearing green acrylic across his face. He’s been at it all day since dropping off Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang in their room, but at least the mural is nearly done. The couple’s features are nothing special, but he likes to think he did a good job at depicting their emotions. One of the silhouettes smiles wide and contagious at the other, half-turning back with their hand held out.

It took him the better part of the afternoon just to paint the field of flowers they’re standing in, though. Even after more than a decade on this island, the heat’s still making him melt on the daily. Just a few more details , he tells himself, then I can go get myself a fresh drink.

The chatter of new guests making their way up to the lobby makes his head turn. Oh right, the group’s arriving today. They really do look like rich tourists, in their all-white outfits and⎯

Wait.

Wei Ying swallows thickly. This stirs up memories of another figure in white, which doesn’t hurt any less, even after thirteen-odd years.

It’s just a coincidence. Normal company-organized holidays, Wen Qing said. Nothing to worry about.

He looks again, and meets the gaze of the man at the forefront of the group. The other’s eyes (molten gold, bright as sunlight and most of all familiar ) widen ever so slightly, and Wei Ying almost falls off the ladder.

He catches himself just in time, sweaty and paint-slicked palms slipping on the rails, and resists the urge to let go again just to hide his face in his hands.

This is the worst. God, why him of all people?

Why, of all guests getting on and off the island all summer - as they have for years -, did it have to be Lan Zhan ?

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #mdzs fic #kim's fics #mm!au

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