#by that i mean- everyone’s terrified- but the vibes are too good to be ignored
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College is good for several things. In the USA, it's good for learning facts about history and the rest of the world that high school either didn't tell you or flat-out lied about. Without college, most people would never encounter the academic resources necessary to unlearn lies and biases instilled by the overwhelmingly USA-centric, whitewashed viewpoint taught in most school systems, or the vocabulary needed to ask after those resources.
If (and only if) you are already extroverted and gregarious, college is good for making friends. It's probably good for some other things too.
But college is not very good for many of the things it supposedly does for people. College appears to be good for personal growth, but any environment with unfamiliar people, new experiences, and a large library would do. In fact, the academic rigors of college are probably mostly incidental to personal growth that occurs there. You learn about yourself in college in spite of, not because of, the rigid and demanding academic expectations, which serve to cement you further in what you think you already know about yourself because that is safer than discovering you might be something totally different.
It also doesn't prepare you very well for any other environment, because it is so different from any other environment you might encounter. At least in the USA, there are hardly any communities that are similar to college. College has an environment of communal living among mostly same-aged people, numerous public spaces, an endless hemorrhage of community-run events, and constant mother-henning by the institution as they encourage you to take advantage of all the services they fail to do a good job at providing. Authority figures are clearly delineated from peers and you have a clear hierarchical relationship with people that are not also students. It is an opportunity to practice adulthood, but one that supports you in the wrong ways and fails to support you in the right ones, both stifling and neglectful.
Colleges are brutally insistent on this peculiar style of community structure that you probably won't ever encounter again in your life, all the while being incredibly unforgiving if you fail to adapt to it. There are lots of rules, some of which are plain-attired descriptions of consequences as real as a granite wall, most of which reflect nothing except the fact that someone in authority would like to prevent a specific type of bad-faith exploitation of a more forgiving policy. The pure-hearted student is supposed to be able to ignore these rules and be judged according to the unspoken, more forgiving policy that is invoked when an authority likes your vibes.
This means part of surviving college is cultivating the right vibes, and part of cultivating the right vibes is being abled and not experiencing any extenuating circumstances ever. If you are having a mental health crisis that is stopping you from succeeding, the truth is as good as a lie; of course everyone struggles with mental health in college in these specific pre-cut ways, have you tried breathing exercises? If you are stressed and terrified all the time and whenever you sit still it feels like the universe is screaming through you, you will be abandoned because crisis is rare and interrupts otherwise normal life, and everyone claims to be having a crisis right now. "This system works!" and if we just repeat it hard enough the system will start to work.
If the truth is as good as a lie, then a lie is as good as the truth, and the ability to receive help when you need it is determined not by actually needing help but by being a better liar.
What if people lie to get accommodations they don't really need? I don't know the answer to this, because I find a different question more compelling: What if people lie to get accommodations they do really need?
Institutions are terrified of the possibility of a person that pretends to be disabled, and often they impress that terror into disabled people, who become terrified that THEY are pretending to be disabled, when probably almost all disabled people must pretend to be disabled because the raw Reality of what they experience as a person would be a brain-melting arcane and eldritch encounter for an Institution. Institutions don't see us. They see broad human tropes, masks worn by any number of actors. Some people are diligent students and some are lazy; some hone their potential and talent and others refuse, for whatever reason, to unlock it. This belief is so fundamental to our entire philosophy of shaping and educating students that if it directly encountered the Truth (whatever that may be), the truth would not survive.
If you want to be a good student (and I wanted to be and I was) the mask will become welded to your face and you will forget it's a mask partly because you will like how much better you were treated with the mask on. I sit in a therapy session, thinking, "Why am I framing my pain in a way that makes it seem less complicated and more solvable but doesn't cut to the truth of the matter? Which one of us benefits from that?"
The world is slowly, woundedly crawling into being a performance where everyone competes to pretend that they aren't dying. I have a version of me that struggles with school because I am autistic, but secretly I suspect successful, well-adjusted college students that manage their mental health and friendships and work do not exist in the way we think they must. After all, what of the numerous college students that cheat, that plagiarize, that make ChatGPT write their essays? My professors can all give examples of students that did, and their poor and shoddy attempts, but all this suggests is that the clever and cunning ones seldom get caught. In dealing with institutions, anything an honest person can do through their honesty, a good enough liar can do better with their lies.
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Hi! It’s my first time asking or posting something on tumblr, I just joined to be able to read your works! They are amazing thank you for sharing with us! ❤️ I recently read all Wednesday prompts they make my day, I was wondering if you could maybe do something where mob wife Alec has super femme fatal vibes, I was really taken with that prompt, Simon rambling and almost dying was hilarious (sorry if my writing is too formal or is not expressed correctly English is not my first language) thanks again for sharing your work I really love it!
oh this is so sweet! I hope you enjoy being on here and I'm so glad you like my writing so much <3
I had so much fun with this and I hope you enjoy it! I love writing in this verse so prompts for it are always welcome, even if it may take me a while to get all of the pieces together for an actual fic!
your writing is absolutely fine and your prompt easy to work with!
<3 lumine
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“Honey, are you sure this is a good idea?” Mari can’t help but ask her husband as he finishes zipping up her dress for her. It’s been a point of tension between them, though not because she doesn’t trust Leo or mind when he gets a bit friendly with the entertainment.
It’s just that Bane’s brought his husband with him every single time since the first he introduced him, and this will be the first-time entertainment’s there at the same time.
Most people know to ignore Bane, to avoid him and respect his boundaries and space but not everyone is as aware, and Mari knows that most of the girls coming are from a different city. Somewhere they don’t know the rules, with someone leading them who might not know to give Bane the respect he demands.
So, Mari is nervous, both because she doesn’t know how Bane will react to being propositioned, but also because Bane’s boy is terrifying, and Mari isn’t sure any of those poor girls will survive.
“It’ll be fine, sweetie.” Leo promises her and Mari hopes that this isn’t another promise that’s about to be broken.
—
It is not fine. Nothing about it is fine and Mari knows it from the moment Bane enters, holding the door open like he’s escorting royalty and entering with his hand on his boy’s back. Mari bites her lip, not caring about the waxy taste of her lipstick or that the red might stain her lips.
She’s gotten used to how Bane dresses and when his husband first showed up, she’d gotten used to that as well.
This is, she takes a ragged breath and just hopes that Bane won’t make them pay for any drycleaning he’ll need to get the inevitable blood from his clothes.
Her hand shakes a little as she grabs a passing waiter and for once, instead of juice, she takes the champagne.
Bane is dressed to kill as he always is, but it’s his boy, taller than ever with boots that go to his knees, gold buckles, black leather pants and a gold and black waistcoat that Mari is sure ends in a corset. He’s stunning but terrifying, his dark eyes rimmed with gold, and he looks inhuman, his lips dusted with gold as well, as if he’s been kissing the sun.
Mari shudders and hopes that this evening goes better than she fears, because Bane’s husband has a smile on his face and Mari is pretty sure that poison is less deadly than it.
She gets her wits about her and goes to greet them, trying to find a way to unattached Alec from Bane. It sends a shiver down her spine to use his name — to even think it — but there is only one Bane, even if they share a last name.
“We have a new painting; you really have to see it.” Mari tries, her third and final attempt and she reaches out, fingers barely trembling to quickly pat Alec’s arm. “We can get our men fresh drinks.”
It’s a ridiculous thing, to act like Alec is anything like one of the wives but it works, and Mari has never been so glad that he and Bane don’t care about gender stereotypes. It means that she gets him out of the room, but she doesn’t have a plan after that, and the other wives and girls all know better than to try conversing with Alec.
It normally ends in tears and Alec’s latest response of offering to get a bottle ‘just in case your husband wants to drink your tears’ was not normal, no matter how nonchalant he was about it.
It means that the painting and Mari’s frantic attempts to discuss its meaning and technique only hold his attention for about twenty minutes. Then, as it always does, he focuses back on his husband.
There’s an intensity to Alec when he’s not around Bane, a terrifying aura that melts away and Mari knows Leo has never noticed.
She still doesn’t think he’s a cop and he’s not undercover for anyone else, but he is something, someone dangerous and he’s unknown, which makes it all the worse.
They get back to the others and Mari realizes that despite her best efforts, she’s only made things worse.
The newcomer is there, all slick smiles and easy words and he’s got a girl in his lap and one on each side. It’s not uncommon, the young and untested thinking that easy sex and pretty women are the best way to prove their power, but it’s gauche and Mari can’t help but wrinkle her nose.
And then she sees the two girls focusing on Bane, approaching him with coy smiles and plunging necklines and Mari has never wished more to hide two people away.
She turns, hoping to figure out how to handle this but Alec is gone, as if he was never next to her at all.
It’s a shock, because he’s even taller than normal and Mari feels dwarfed in his presence on a good day and this was not a good day.
But there he is, gliding like a swan across a frozen lake. Ignorant of the appreciative gazes of some of the new girls or the mocking look of the newcomer and Mari just knows whoever this Cameron fellow is, that things aren’t going to go the way he wants.
One of the girls is next to Bane, fluttering lashes that Mari knows for a fact won’t compare to Alec’s natural ones — the bastard — and she reaches out, as if to touch and there’s a dark, low chuckle.
“If you want to keep your fingers, then keep them to yourselves.”
Mari has never heard such a cold, deadly tone before.
She’s never seen a threat like the one being made.
Alec doesn’t walk around the low sofa Bane is sitting on, he steps over it. One ridiculously long and leather clad leg elegantly sweeping over the back and then the rest of him follows. He drapes himself over Bane’s lap with a cool elegance that wouldn’t look out of place on a hunting anaconda and when he grins, Mari swallows.
“What the fuck—” Leo mutters, coming up behind her, eyes wide and little wild.
There is a tension in the air that wasn’t there before and while the girls are listening, both of them tripping over themselves to put space between Bane and his husband, Alec isn’t watching them.
Alec is watching Cameron.
There is a glint to his eyes that promises a wealth of cruelty and he smirks, tongue darting out over his lips before he just lays back, legs and heels crossing over the arm of the sofa as he settles down in Bane’s lap, looking up coquettishly at his husband.
Like he has any business turning soft when he’s clearly made of steel and kept sharpened.
“I think I’ll stay here tonight, babe.” He tells Bane, “keep you company.”
Mari mentally wishes Leo the best of luck during his meeting, relieved that Alec will be haunting someone else tonight.dr
#writing wednesday#writing wednesdays#magnus bane#alec lightwood#shadowhunters#shadowhunters au#lumine writes#my fics#my fanfics#my ficlets#dressed to kill
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The demon brothers playing windtrace
This is in honour of that one player that recognized my signature as an Obey Me reference when I was hunter. If you happen to come across this, I was that one Diluc at the Dawn Winery
Reposting this BECAUSE I JUST GOT OUT OF BEING SHADOWBANNED.
Lucifer
Hands down best hunter out of all of them. Everyone is doomed when he is hunter.
The match doesn’t last longer than 40 seconds.
The others swear he can smell their fear, it’s not even funny.
He usually plays as Zhongli. They share the same vibes so I can see him going for the old man.
I also see him using the Raiden Shogun just for the fact that she is terrifying for the others.
One the other hand, he sucks at hiding. Not the worst out of his brothers but he is still not good.
His hiding places are decent, but when running away he gets stuck on the walls a lot.
Weirdly enough he doesn’t get stuck as a hunter.
Has a tendency jumpscare his brothers by appearing out of nowhere
Mammon
Not the best at hiding as a rebel but he rarelu gets caught cause he is good at running from the hunter.
Always and I mean ALWAYS goes for the favor. Does he get it? Not always, but he always tries.
He has a hard time finding the others unless he uses the favor. He is fucking blind.
Never looks up, passes right by the others cause he didn’t bother to check some weirdly placed objects.
But once he does it’s over for the others. He gives Lucifer a run for his money with how much he scares the others when he runs after them.
He uses Childe and Itto the most. He finds them fun and they look cool. That’s his whole resoning.
I might be controversial on this one, but I see him using Diluc and Ningguang just cause they are known as the richest people in Teyvat.
He gets too cocky towards the end of the match if the think he is winning and will start bragging about how he is the best…that often leads to him losing.
Leviathan
TRY HARD. He takes it way to seriously as both a hunter and a rebel. He fucking screams when he loses.
He has past experience because windtrace is bassicaly prop hunt, and genshin isn’t the only game with that sort of thing.
He has strategies for every map for every situations. Where to run, where to hide, where to take cover. Where to check for hidden rebels.
He choses his character depending on the map and what others chose since he wants to be ‘lore accurate’, in his words.
He tries to only play as tall characters when he is hunter because they are better when chasing the rebels, but sometimes being more 'lore accurate’ matters more.
Gives a whole speech on how he will for his fallen team mates every time he is the sole survivor.
He is annoying to catch as a rebel because he always goes for the high places only to jump and use invisibility so the hunter loses sight of him…and then goes and climb a high place again.
He gets so annoying if he wins. He treats it like it was only natural for him to win.
Satan
Takes it pretty seriously. Nowhere near Levi’s level tho.
He tries to hide how seriously he takes it bacause it’s just a game, but everyone can feel how annoyed he gets as the game goes on.
Tries to match the characters with the backround of the map. The map is green? Tighnari, Xiao, Collei are used.
He think it will help him blend better with the map so the hunter will have a harder time seeing him.
If there is a map where he can’t use that strategy, he tries to use a taller character. His go to was Zhongliat first…until he saw that Zhongli was Lucifer’s go to.
He tried using Lisa because she is a librarian…until he started to climb walls and heard her. He ends up settling on Xiao
Levi refuses to tell him that a lot of people see Xiao as Zhongli’s son.
He is pretty avarage as a hunter. He is pretty observant, and he actually looks up to see if people are hinding in trees and stuff. His problem is that he sometimes gets so caught up in difficult hinding spots that he ignores the more obvious ones and he feels so fuckig stupid when he realises his mistake.
He has well thought out hiding spots, but they are pretty hard to come out of, so if the hunter sees him he has a hard time getting away from them.
Asmodeus
He picks whatever character he thinks is the best looking. He usually picks Kaeya, Lisa, Miko and Ayato.
He keeps running into walls as both hunter and rebel.
He somehow always has the luck to hide near where the favor spawns. It drives the others insane becase he just moves a bit and the favor is his.
He gets distracted by his devilgram account a lot when he is rebel and stays hidden in his spot for too long. Because of that he often gets jumpscared by his brothers when they go to catch him.
Tries to talk his way out of getting captured but it never works.
When he first started to play he refused to transform into objects cause in his words 'His characters are too pretty for that’
To his credit, he learned how to survive without a disguise pretty well, so he doesn’t rely on it too much.
He loses track of his brothers pretty fast when he is hunter which frustrates him to no end. His luck with being where the favor spawns is his saving grace when he is hunter.
Beelzebub
Scarily observant as a hunter. He sees the smallest movement his brothers make and goes after them in the same second.
Plays as either Xianling, Razor or Itto. He likes Xiangling because she is a cook, Razor because he cares about his family and Itto…well because he is Itto.
As a rebel he has a tendency to hide in the most obvious places possible and in a way it works a lot of the time. Due to how obvious that spot is, his brothers tend to go right past him.
He tries to distract the hunter if they are chasing after Belphie.
When he is rebel and sits in his hiding spot for too long he gets hungry and starts eating. Because of that he doesn’t have enough time to run.
He has the worst luck when it comes to getting the favor. It always spawns in the oposite side of the map from where he is.
Despite not getting the favor he still wins a fair amount of times. He always catches the person that took the favor first too.
Because of that his brothers became hesitant to go take the favor.
Belphie is spared 100% of the time. He never goes after him as hunter.
Belphegor
Little shit. Is the most annoying rebel to catch ever. He goes to the places that are the hardest to reach only to dissapear before the hunter gets there.
He is smart and lazy so he often finds the places that require the least amount of effort to get in and run away from.
He is pretty good at getting into hard to reach spots, so an easy hiding place for him to get in, is hell for a hunter to reach.
Fell a few times asleep while playing because the hunter never found him.
He sometimes lets himself be caught by Lucifer only to place beacons right in front of him so his vision gets limited.
Never goes after Beel when he is hunter.
Pretty lazy as a hunter ngl. He tries to chase after rebels as little as possible unless it’s Lucifer. He relies on shortcuts and on confusing the rebels in order to catch them.
Really good at guessing if an object from the map is an actual object or a player in disguise, it’s like a sixth sense to him.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me lucifer headcanons#obey me mammon headcanons#obey me levi headcanons#obey me satan headcanons#obey me asmodeus headcanons#obey me beelzebub headcanons#obey me belphegor headcanons
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Hi! :D I wanted to request the twst cast HCs abt music (the characters prefer music genre, most liked and saved songs to least prefered music etc). Bonus if you add their theme song (according to what you think it would be)! :)
Hi anon! Thanks for asking! >:> I'm always up for a good challenge! I don't really listen to popular songs so ... I failed the bonus😿
Feel free to interpret these as romantic or platonic accept for Ortho cuz he's my son.
no NRC staff, Grim or RSA sorry guys
(since this post has all the characters, no pictures cuz I'm too lazy to make multiple parts 💀)
please ignore my horrible character quotes I tried :')
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Riddle
Listens to classical music
Pretty sure his mom didn't allow him to listen to different genres since they weren't "educational"
I think metal is terrifying to him
"Mother said that classical music was good for the brain...though I do wish to explore other genres with you..."
Ace
Probably listens to whatever he's feeling at the moment
I can't read Ace at all but he definitely is one of those who will sing annoying songs loudly to piss everyone one off.
"Come on prefect, let's prank loosey-deucey with this song next"
Deuce
He really enjoys rap, but I think he's a little slow to catch onto the meanings of certain songs...yeah someone help him 😭
Well since deuce is trying to be a good boy, he probably started listening to family friendly music.
Gets really annoyed when ace tries to peer pressure him though
"Uhhhh, Ace showed me this song but I don't get the lyrics-"
Trey
WELL SINCE TREY WANTS TO LIE TO US AND BE BORING ON PURPOSE🙄
Also listens to classical music
But when no one is watching he's listening to whatever he's in the mood for.
"My taste in music? Well I'd consider it average."
Cater
It's canon that he loves pop music
Probably listens to stuff like Cardi B and Megan the Stallion too
Has Olivia Rodrigo and break up songs somewhere in his playlist though.
Lyric pranking people. Just as bad as Ace too
"This song was trending on Magicam! It's totally bop wanna hear it?"
Leona
Uhhh given he spends most of his time sleeping, he most likely is listening to calming music to put him to sleep.
material girl vibes
Other than that idk what else😿
"Oi herbivore, stop making such a racket can't you see I'm trying to sleep?"
Ruggie
HAH RUGGIE ACTUALLY PLAYS MUSIC TO GET MONEY TAKE SOME TIPS FROM HIM /HJ
I think Ruggie would be subconsciously humming a tune of that one song everyone has heard during the middle of class
He's not spending a lot of money just to listen to a song though
"Shishishi, you can make a sweet few extra buckets by playing music on the side of the road you know-"
Jack
Taking into consideration that Jack loves morning runs, he'd probably be listening to something energizing
Has his morals and definitely doesn't fall for Ace's pranks. Tries to save Deuce sometimes
"This kinda music gets me going in the mornings when I go on my runs with Vil-senpai. Care to join us sometime?"
Azul
Would he love mitski?
He's not telling anyone his taste in music
With the assistance of Jade he crafted a beautiful playlist for Mostro Lounge based on the top trending songs.
Does he like all of them? No, but he can put up with it if that means he gets more customers.
"Do you like the playlist? I carefully selected songs that would suit your interest so stop by sometime~"
Jade
You know that one meme that goes "she's so adorable I wonder what she's listening to"? Yeah that's jade's music taste in a nutshell.
While jade probably did set up a professional playlist for mostro lounge, his personal playlist scares the living daylights out of people.
He will listen to anything with a straight face.
"Oya?~ you land dwellers idea of music is intriguing. I should listen to this when I go mountaineering next time."
Floyd
Floyd is well...Floyd-
Seriously one minute he was into pop now it's boring and he's listening to meme music.
Just don't say anything about it unless you want a scary eel squeezing you.
"Koebi-chan this song is boring can't we listen to something else? I know I just chose this but I'm not in the mood anymore~"
Kalim
Kalim loves the traditional music from his home town
I believe he once heard Nicki Minaj name and was like "Oooo what's that?" Jamil stopped him really quick though.
Yeah he's even more clueless than Deuce when it comes to these things.
"Ahaha do you like this song? Let's dance to this until sunrise then!"
Jamil
He acts like he doesn't have a preference and we all know it's a lie.
Opposite of Kalim Jamil seems to prefer relaxing music to party music.
Since he basically breathes stress he definitely wants something to unwind.
"I know you may find my taste in music boring compared to Kalim but I'd love if you'd listen to this one song..."
Vil
Vil doesn't have a preferred genre, but I think he enjoys those songs that make him feel like the queen that he is.
Pretty sure he's been exposed to various styles of music, since he is a movie actor.
Though, I'm 100% sure he doesn't wanna hear country music blasting at 4am by a certain poison apple while he's trying to get his beauty sleep.
"Different genres have different characteristics that make it special just like people. One is not superior to the other."
Rook
As expected rook doesn't have a preferred genre
He see beauty in every melody, no matter if it'd even make your ears bleed
Just whatever catches his attention in the moment, he's all in for!
"How does one expect me to chose one specific genre when they all radiate with such majesty? For every note stirs my heart and touches my soul. Beauté 100 points!"
Epel
COUNTRY MUSIC!!!
DEFINITELY PLAYING IT AT 4 IN THE MORNING
Oh no Vil just took Epel's radio away...sorry Epel :,)
Had a spare one under his bed
"I'll take let you visit my home town one day so you can witness the music in person."
Idia
Night-core
Vocaloids
Lofi-beats
Probably his favorite anime OPs
Canon that he listens to idols (Premo)
"HIEEE!!! O-oh you just wanted my recommendations for music? S-since it's you I guess I don't mind..."
Ortho (platonic)
Kids bop THATS ALL HES ALLOWED TO LISTEN TO!
He also loves baby shark and was singing it. DONT YOU DARE SAY YOU'RE SICK OF HEARING THE SONG ORTHO CAN SING IT AS MUCH AS HE WANTS
"Nii-san installed a new playlist he made just for me. I thought maybe my best-friend would want to hear it?"
Malleus
Another lover of classical music
Canonically talented with stringed instruments
Would he enjoy rock?
Wants to expand his knowledge so he does try other genres
He doesn't really listen to humans music given he probably gets confused by the lyrics and "would rather not decipher it's cryptic meanings"
Definitely not impressed by Lilia's taste in music :|
"Child of man, allow me to play the violin for you~"
Lilia
We all know Lilia loves metal and screamo
He also loves all the other music genres though some of the lyric do surprise him
Lilia is a little menace so he'll definitely sing obnoxiously loud those songs that everyone doesn't want to hear anymore
"Kufufu, allow me to sing you a song that will awaken your soul!"
Silver
Can he stay awake long enough to listen to his favorite song?
Given that he's always surrounded by forest creatures and the lack of technology back in Briar Valley, he loves the songs nature sings
Birds will sing the most beautiful songs while he drifts asleep
"What's my favorite song? I haven't really thought of it, but the forest creatures did sing me to sleep sometimes whenever my father was away."
Sebek
Kinda a tricky one but I think Sebek is the type of person to say:
"I ONLY LISTEN TO THE MUSIC WAKA-SAMA PLAYS!!!"
He applauds Lilia's singing but we all know he had peed himself
Screeches like a demon in terror whenever someone plays music that's has a rating above TV-G
"NINGEN!!! HOW DARE YOU PLAY SUCH A VILE LYRICS IN THE PRESENCE OF WAKA-SAMA???!!! HAVE YOU NO SHAME???!!!"
#twisted wonderland#twst headcanons#heartslabyul#savanaclaw#octavinelle#scarabia#pomefiore#ignihyde#diasomnia#riddle rosehearts#leona kingscholar#azul ashengrotto#kalim al asim#vil schoenheit#idia shroud#malleus draconia#disney tw#twst nrc
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As someone whose Admittedly Impossible Dream Fancast for Alys was like... Eva Green, but specifically with hair and costumes roughly styled after her all-too-brief performance as Morgan in Starz's Camelot (the show itself had SO MANY flaws, but damn if I didn't completely obsess over her in that role for the one season it lasted!), THANK YOU for being so refreshingly reasonable about Gayle Rankin's casting! I don't think I've ever watched anything with, but I've heard she's a good actress and she's great with eerie, witchy roles, and personally, I think that's all that should matter.
Honestly, my only complaint is that I would have LOVED for Alys' actress to have a bigger, more visible age difference with Ewan. Not just for the obvious "Aemond likes MILFs"/"Alys is more experienced and tops him" jokes, as amusing (and inspiring if, like me, you like that sort of thing in your ships... ;)) as those can be, but also because it would have just been so nice to see a 40+ actress play a seductive, powerful character hooking up with a cool, younger male fan favorite many people (me included, lol) find hot. I get that Alys is supposed to look youthful, but depending on context, "youthful" can mean anything from "so babyfaced they keep getting mistaken for a teen well into their 30s" to "they have such an energy and such a lively, charming personality that people keep forgetting their actual age" after all...
Then again, I, too, would have also loved for older!Rhaenyra and Helaena to be played by fat people, thus putting on screen two fat female characters whose problems don't revolve around them hating their bodies, other people hating their bodies, or whether their bodies are or can be considered attractive. Still, Emma and Phia are both doing amazing jobs, and as well-cast as everyone's been until now, I don't doubt it'll be the same with Gayle and I'll be able to enjoy her performance... while waiting for industry conventions to slooowly change!
i also watched starz's camelot and had very mixed feelings about the show overall, but i adored eva green as morgan pendragon so much. so she was always who i imagined as alys when i read fire and blood. and i understood why many people felt the same way about katie mcgrath after watching her also as morgana in bbc's merlin. alys rivers just has really big morgan le fey energy, right down to her son.
i have never seen gayle rankin in anything. but she is supposedly a good actress who has played roles with witchy vibes. an pictures and edits of her with black hair as selling me on her casting more and more. i am sure she will do wonderful in the role. my biggest issue was those posts comparing pictures of gayle rankin and a fancast for alys, which was clearly posing gayle as unattractive and dumpy compared to the more conventionally attractive actress. which is just gross. it was gross when they did it to emma, and it sucks that the same cycle is repeating with gayle. they both deserved better.
i am terrified for the actress cast as nettles.
in regards to the rest of the casting, i agree with you entirely. milly, emma, and phia are great, i love both of them and none of this is a reflection of my feelings about them as actors. but rhaenyra and helaena are the only targaryen women who are explicitly described as bigger than a pencil. grrm specified that rhaenyra was "pudgy" as a girl and "stout" as a woman due to her multiple pregnancies, but she is still considered desirable. helaena is similarly described as "plump", but is adored. their canonical descriptions being ignored by both the showrunners and fans is disappointing, but not surprising.
i have strong feelings about some of the casting, but i still found it to be one of the shows greatest strengths. and i have no doubt that these newest additions will continue to elevate the show (the only one i actually recognize was freddie fox as gwayne hightower, he was the king of sweden in hulu's the great and i am excited for him).
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Ciao!
Hey there Rotomblr! I saw some of my coworkers talking about this app, so I decided to try it out! Name’s Cassidy, but you can call me Cass! I’m a big fan of She/Her pronouns, so use those for me if you'd please! I’m an aide down at that new Pokémon Center in Freezington, Galar. Nice to meet everyone!
Here’s my Trainer Card and a pic of me! Hope you can see them- I still have no idea how this site works lmao
Anyway, I'm from Castelia City in Unova! I spent a few years studying abroad in Kalos, and now I'm working in the Crown Tundra at the new Center they set up! I loooove astrology, cooking (especially curry), reading, movies and cardgames!!! I still don’t know a lot about Pokémon, but I’m good at taking care of them! I hope so, anyway. Lemme talk a little bit about my own!
Valentine - Ribombee: my first partner! I caught her when my family was vacationing in Alola way back. She's soooo adorable, and helps me out at the Center a ton!!
Chime - Chingling: my second Pokémon! I found him while studying in Kalos. He's more like emotional support for me, honestly. He's just as cute as Val!
Chansey: I got her from my employer (which I guess is the region???? Idk). She's very cool, and I think we work well together!
Lumi - Metang: Lumi was given to me by a friend in Kalos! They don't understand Galarian very well...and I'm no good at Kalosian...but I think they like it up here!! And they help out a lot!!!
Cheri - Spritzee: My newest team member!!! I caught her in Hammerlocke during my vacation (it keeps happening lol) She's super sweet!!!
That’s all for now! I can share my dreams and aspirations later, lol. Feel free to talk to me about anything- Pokémon, life, good recipes, movie recs, card games…like I said, anything!!!! It’s real lonely up here in the tundra, so any interaction is welcome!
Ciao! 🩷
(OOC stuff under the cut \/)
Update 1/7/24: Decided to update this, to offer more information and just generally be less cluttered! Also got rid of Cass' middle name, because that was lame and I forgot about it
Howdy! This is a Pokemon IRL Blog run by @skrelpson. As such, there's a major unreality warning for all of it! This blog runs off of mainly game/anime canon, with a sprinkle of headcanons throughout! Maybe I'll talk more about that later. idk!
Rules .｡.:*☆:
No NSFW! I am a minor, as of writing this. I'm also just generally uncomfortable with that subject matter. If you send any asks in that nature, you'll be blocked.
Magic Anons are off! They'll probably stay off, too. Just not comfy with that...yknow yknow
Pelipper Mail is on...ish! You can send things in, but please nothing like surprise gift Pokemon. Cass isn't equipped to deal with that right now! I will just ignore any mail that doesn't really jive with what's going on.
This is a low stakes blog! Cass might get into minor events, but for the most part it's just chill vibes in the tundra.
Speaking of, if you'd ever want to include me in some sort of RP (again, mainly low-stakes!), feel free to DM me! Just like specify what's going on. My writing RP skills are kinda rusty, but I can make it work! :]
Sapient Pokemon and the like can interact!
Basic DNI critera- Transphobes, racists, anti-seminists...etcetera...
In general, I'm not a very outgoing person. I gotta work up a lotta courage to try and talk to people! Especially people I don't know! And it might take me time to respond to a reblog, message, etc...it doesn't mean I don't want to interact! I'm just terrified of being online :p
Any ask game I reblog will be permanently open!!! Feel free to send in asks for any of them. Since that sounds a little daunting, here's a list of all the ones I've reblogged! Just PLEASE please please please include the question and not just the emoji...PLEASE
(I'll update this like...once every other month or something)
Find Out the Little Things!
Press A to Interact (This one doesn't really have a name? Ack sorry)
Roto Leak!
Pokéblr Ask Game
Curry Ingredient Ask Game
Assign a Pokémon Ability
Favorite Pokémon for Each Type
Sharing Story Aspects You're Excited For (I would label this one Pen(ny) for your thoughts if I wasn't a coward)
The ID was made using Pokecharm’s legacy Trainer Card Maker
The Picrew can be found here: [Link]
PREVIOUS ARCS (+Tags!)
The Lime Water Saga - a joke arc about Cass putting too many lime slices in her water bottle. Can be found under #lime water saga
Vocational Vacation - Cass tours Galar! She visits landmarks, takes pictures of ponies, and doesn't see the northern lights. Found under #vocational vacation arc
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I have 2 brain cells and both of them are focused on Rock Band AU in modern setting with Temari, Kankuro, and Gaara!!
Gaara with deep black ring make up around his eyes. Lead singer even though he’s a little guy (he has a lot of pent up rage and I think screaming lyrics to heavy metal could be good for him <3 )
Kankuro wearing all black with purple face paint. He’s already THE alt icon. I love him. He def has piercings. He is the drummer, because he is not given as much attention as his other siblings in canon so it could be kind of a parallel and also drummers are hot and I make the rules around here.
Temari!! My queen!!!! Temari definitely had a phase where she wore super exaggerated black and white makeup and she looked absolutely terrifying (and gorgeous) doing it. She is a guitar player!! I don’t know enough about guitars to say what kind but she is wonderful and I just know she could be amazing at it if she wanted to. She shreds like a pro. Because she’s the best. She also does backup vocals for the band.
Their father was their manager and then he got cancelled or smth or idk but Baki became their new manager because I said so. And the little monster sealed inside of Gaara in the anime? It is now his feral cat. Everyone hates it. Gaara included. It’s okay. The cat eventually learns to love Gaara. Their fans love the little hellion too.
As for ships I also have Thoughts about other bands in the Band AU!!!!!!!!!
InoShikaCho is something. I’m not sure. Ino is the lead vocalist. She has like pop music vibes but Choji and Shikamaru don’t so maybe they make just really Good generic music? Stuff that’s always on the radios. I don’t know. Shikamaru does not sing, thank you very much. He could rap if he wanted to though.
You already know that Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke could be super complicated as a band because they Did Not get along as genin. Whatever. They aren’t my problem. I’m ignoring them. But they’re really good and Gaara definitely had a crush on Naruto at some point.
Neji, Tenten, and Rock Lee are an interesting trio to think about. Tenten raps for sure, because she’s pretty and I think she could be a badass rapper. Neji is the leader of their band and he writes their music too. Main vocalist vibes. Tenten also helps write music and can play like any instrument ever. Rock Lee is for sure tearing it up with swag dance moves. Gai, their manager, is definitely big on choreography. They’re more of a mainstream rap or hip hop group, but I think they have a background in other music genres.
Oh jeez. My personal favorite, Team 8!! Kiba’s everything.. Hinata with her shy demeanor.. Shino’s literal trench coat that covers him from head to toe. I don’t know. I love them all to death but they’re weird and forgettable to everyone but me it feels like. They’re alt, maybe an indie band? Or maybe not? I don’t know I think Shino plays guitar for them. Kiba is on drums maybe? Or maybe he is also on guitar. Maybe Shino plays drums? They’re hard. But imagine Kiba smugly going at with some killer vocals and making eye contact with an unimpressed Kankuro in the crowd. Battle of the bands babyyy. Hinata had a pretty voice but she is super shy about singing which leads to confidence issues because Hanabi has no problem singing in front of large crowds. So Hinata doesn’t sing but she eventually does after pursuing a solo career when their band naturally disbands because they have different paths in life they want to follow. Shino becomes a teacher lmao. Anyways I’ve decided Kiba with lead vocals. Everything else is not worth my time. What other teams are there again? It’s not like anyone cares enough to read this anyways. It’s mostly for me. Wait I think I got all of the rookie 12. Did I? OH MY GOD I ALMODT FORGOT AKAMARU I’m so sorry. Yeah Akamaru is Kiba’s dog and he goes on tour with them.
Nobody else is important to me. I mean I guess I could do some side characters.
The Sannin were a super popular band back in the day, with Jiraiya on lead vocals and the other two as backup vocals. Orochimaru was a master of guitar and any stringed instrument really. Tsunade SLAYED on drums. OH IDEA. Sakura plays drums and Sasuke is on guitar with Naruto on main vocals! But anyways the sannin have a major break up after Jiraiya decides to leave the band right after one of their biggest tours like ever, effectively cutting off the other two’s career in a band. Kaito Dan, a stage tech who is also Tsunade’s fiancé, dies in a car accident with Tsuande on the way to one of her gigs. She is too traumatized to ever sing or play on stage again. She runs off to get drunk and gamble. Orochimaru gets in good with Danzo before eventually getting cancelled (and being forced to take the blame for Danzo) when it is found he is mistreating the new talent in attempts to make a perfect singer to make them money or something I don’t know. He runs off and does small gigs but mostly pursues higher education and getting a ridiculous amount of degrees. He has the money so he just keeps getting them. I don’t know it’s funny to me. He takes on an apprentice named Kabuto and then another named Kimimaro. Is that how u spell that? Idk.
Uhmmm Minato was a really good singer but he and his fiancé died young, and while Minato had been briefly introduced to stardom it all ended when he and his fiancé died. Kushina died in labor and Minato literally died on the way home from the hospital. Super sad. Also Minato had been mentoring some kids, Kakashi and Rin and Obito. Uhm I choose for Obito to get an injury and like. Retire super early. Rin tries to make things work and then dies. I don’t know. Kakashi is traumatized but makes a successful life for himself. He becomes manager for Naruto and the other two. He also mentored Yamato and Yamato mentored Sai.
This is getting too long I’m so sorry.
#konoha 12#sand siblings#Gaara#Temari#Kankuro#uzumaki naruto#haruno sakura#uchiha sasuke#tenten#hyuuga neji#rock lee#shikamaru nara#yamanaka ino#Sai#choji akimichi#band au#au#a modern au#rock#metal#jeez so many tags I’m terrible#sannin#legendary Sannin#Orochimaru#tsunade#jiraiya#hinata hyuuga#inuzuka kiba#shino aburame#akamaru
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Hi Ren! I saw your ask game and think it’s super cool!! Could I request Dabi from bnha with the song Possession of a Weapon by Ashnikko? If this doesn’t spark anything please feel free to ignore
I could never ignore you!!! And you picked such a great song for Dabi omg.
This again gave me character study vibes of just like Dabi finally revealing who he truly is and watching Endeavor’s face as he does so. Watching Endeavor realize the magnitude of how much he fucked up with Dabi in particular. Like by the time Dabi reveals that he’s Touya, Endeavor has already realized he was a terrible father and needs to change but I don’t think he realized just how bad he fucked his kids up until that moment. And god does Dabi get a sick pleasure at watching his abuser have that realization for the world to see
Something vicious and triumphant rises up in Dabi as he watches his pathetic excuse for a father absorb his every word. There is something so incredibly satisfying about watching Endeavor’s face go grief stricken as he realizes that he’s staring at the remains of his eldest son. Dabi is a living, breathing, walking corpse and he relishes it. He welcomes the smell of decay and burning, rotting flesh that has followed him since that fateful day in the woods where he murdered Touya Todoroki to become the man he is today.
Endeavor’s eyes drag over Dabi’s charred body and he can tell by the twist of the man’s face that he is horrified by what he finds now that he’s bothering to take a good luck. Dabi knows what he looks like. He is grotesque and he loves it. Love every godforsaken moment of it. He wants Endeavor to be disgusted by what his flames have done to his eldest son.
Then the fear comes and oh isn’t that a wonderful sight. Big bad number one hero finally got all he wanted and now he’s fucking terrified because Dabi is here to raze it all to the ground.
Good.
Dabi wants him scared. He wants him to experience the same deep seated, overwhelming terror that engulfed young Touya when he lost control and felt his own quirk eating away at his skin. But now Dabi knows that it’s just flesh. It doesn’t matter. None of it does. He’ll burn himself up until there’s nothing left of him to burn if it means finally tearing down the man who abandoned him.
Isn’t this what he wanted? A son who is the strongest? A son to best even All Might?
Endeavor’s perfect experiment rushes forward. Still trying to play the hero. How cute. Dabi could try to scheme or plan what happens next but he doesn’t. No it’s no use trying to think now. All that’s left to do now is burn. And burn he will. Himself and everyone else too.
Touya Todoroki is dead and Dabi will turn the world into his funeral pyre.
#the amount of italics in this is so fucking egregious I’m so sorry#hhrequests#dabi bnha#touya todoroki#Dabi character study#Touya Todoroki character study
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Does the Aftons drink tea? 🤔 what type
fairy themed tea parties are mandatory (lizzie’s not responsible for accidental glitter ingestion)
i’d say neither of the kids would be that much into tea xD, maybe a strawberry/raspberry blend for lizzie, and some honey/lime for c.c? it would definitely be a sugary mess either way
michael though, he’d “besmirch the sacred beverage” by mixing in whatever horrible faz-drink he had available (he has a penchant for sodaroni). he doesn’t even like tea that much, but he does enjoy seeing his father’s face pale with each ingredient he adds in his ‘tea’. spinach water was a banger, the hospital trip not so much
#maybe its for the best that gatorade/ redbull and monster werent a thing back in the 80’s- (fnaf 3 is a thing)- oh no#pizza sim rolls around and i can just picture henry’s face if he ever saw michael go full barista with- he cant call it tea anymore#in a kinder timeline- michael’s bartending skills would be a hit- much like dj music man’s bops#by that i mean- everyone’s terrified- but the vibes are too good to be ignored#you cant say michael afton wouldn’t take a look at huge ass spidery music man and NOT love him#surprisingly- i’d say only henry would drink tea like a normal person#fnaf#elizabeth afton#crying child#ask#im sorry anon i derailed so much in the tags
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if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!
a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry.
also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj
warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist
Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.
“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.
“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”
“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.
“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”
“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”
“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”
“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.
“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”
“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”
“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”
Ah, fuck.
“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.
“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”
“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”
Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.
“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.
“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”
“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.
____
“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.
“What could I possibly get you?”
“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.
“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”
“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."
“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.
“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”
He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.
“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”
He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.
“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”
“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically. “Top tier comedian right there.”
“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”
“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.
“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.
“It’s none of your busi-”
“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”
His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.
“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.
“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.
“I’m literally asking you.”
“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.
“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”
“Like Pandora’s Box?”
“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”
He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.
“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.
“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.
“Sir, you’re a geriatric."
“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.
“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”
He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”
“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”
“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”
“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”
“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.
“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”
“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”
“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”
“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.
“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.
“I want this to get over before this evening.”
“What time’s your date?”
“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.
“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”
“Five o’clock, now let go.”
“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.
“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up.
You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.
A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.
“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.
Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.
“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.
“I told you; bad luck in a box.”
“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”
“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”
He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.
“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”
He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.
“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.
“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”
He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.
____
Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.
He isn’t used to having his weekends free.
He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.
His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.
It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.
The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.
He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.
He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.
He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.
“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.
They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.
He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.
The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.
Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.
He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.
Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.
He was sure he picked it up.
He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.
This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.
Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.
His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.
“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”
“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.
See? Good luck.
He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.
He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.
He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.
He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.
He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.
He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.
“Is everything okay?”
Fuck.
He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.
“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”
He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.
He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.
He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.
He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.
His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.
Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.
The box.
He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.
Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.
He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.
Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.
He fucking trips again.
“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”
He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.
Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.
No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.
He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.
There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.
There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.
There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.
The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.
Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.
The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.
He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.
“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.
He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.
“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”
Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.
The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.
It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.
The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.
Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.
The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.
He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.
Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.
Motherfu-
He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.
“James?”
“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”
“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.
“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."
“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.
“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.
“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.
“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.
“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”
“You must be really dehydrated."
Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”
He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.
“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”
He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.
“I, uh,-”
“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.
“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.
His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.
However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.
He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.
“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.
“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”
He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.
“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”
“She mentioned that you like movies.” He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”
It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.
He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.
But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.
He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.
“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”
Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”
He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.
He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.
He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.
Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.
It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.
Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.
He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.
He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.
Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.
The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.
The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?
His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.
The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.
When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.
There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.
He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.
But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.
The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.
“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.
“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”
When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-
“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”
“I need you to fix whatever this is.”
“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.
There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.
The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.
The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.
He should have known. He should have fucking known.
Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.
In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.
It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?
There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.
It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.
But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.
He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.
The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.
His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.
“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”
He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”
“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.
It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.
“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.
“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”
“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”
He hesitates. “I guess?”
“Was she nice?”
“Yeah.” Where was this going.
“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”
“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”
“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”
“Just fix it.”
“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.
He waits for you to do something.
You flick him on the forehead.
“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”
What.
He says exactly what he’s thinking.
You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”
Huh?
“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”
He’s confused.
“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”
“The shoelaces?”
“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”
His face scrunches in puzzlement.
“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”
He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.
“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”
“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”
He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.
“What about the fucking geese?”
You pause for a second. “The geese?”
“And the elevator.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”
“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”
“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”
“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”
“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”
He nods briskly.
“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”
“Perfume?”
“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”
“It wasn’t an inator?”
“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.
“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.
“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”
“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?
“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.
Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.
“Wait here a second.”
You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.
“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."
He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.
You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.
He reluctantly extends it towards you.
“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”
You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.
“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”
“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”
“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”
He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”
“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”
“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”
He scoffs. “Thanks.”
You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.
He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.
“Bucky.”
He turns around.
There’s a hint of a smile on your face.
“Take the stairs.”
He doesn’t have to be told twice.
Next part
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#mcu fic#bucky fic#bucky barnes fic#bucky fluff#bucky barnes fluff#bucky angst#bucky barnes angst#harmless fic#winter soldier x reader#Winter Soldier#bucky barnes#bucky
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As the World Caves In
pairing: levi x reader
word count: 3449
themes: levi’s pov, certified levi angst, lots of pining, levi just needs a hug tbh, song fic request that i think fits the vibe of the song
requested by anon
War.
All Levi can see is war. Everywhere, every second, every hour. It was all he had ever seen, from the moment he’d been born. He had long accepted that war was as inevitable as breathing. With that acceptance had also come the knowledge that that was all he would ever see. Only the gore, the death, the filth of war.
His feet ache as he trudges down the street alongside his horse, the reins loosely gripped in one hand as he keeps his head down, too tired to face the curious gazes of civilians. The evening rain splatters relentlessly atop his head and dribbles down his cheeks and soaks into his sullied uniform; the rain has always bothered him, but it is especially bothersome today.
He is here to fight for the beauty of humanity, but it isn’t a beauty he would ever get the chance to see for himself. That beauty was for those who came after him. He would suffer for them, he’d face the ugliness for them, if it meant that nobody would ever have to go through the horrors of fighting for humanity again. He would take it. He could take it.
A glance towards Hange tells him all he needs to know. The squad leader’s shoulders are hunched forward and Levi purses his lips, knowing they’d injured their back hours before, a result of so much heavy lifting. The wagon full of corpses and dead weight is much farther behind them, but the creaking of wheels seems deafening. Today, it feels like the world is ending.
Gore, and death, and filth. That’s all war is. All that war is, is the end of the world, every day.
With a sigh, Levi lifts his head up to stare straight ahead, expression as steely as ever.
He is here to fight for something that isn’t his. No need to get caught up in his thoughts about it.
War.
War was his life’s purpose. It was all he’d ever get to see. He’d have to see the end of the world every single day. There is no beauty in war.
-----
Fifteen minutes later, the first handful of scouts have started wandering off, Levi’s gaze wandering with them. Some of them go to greet family members. Others slump together in alleyways to take a break. And then there are others that have stepped into a tavern, a couple of them beckoning for Hange to come along. Members of their squad.
Before Levi’s gaze could turn away, Hange, always perceptive, meets his eyes.
“Want to come grab a drink?” they ask him.
Levi feels his jaw clench tight at the thought. He shakes his head.
“No,” he answers simply.
But it’s too late.
Hange grabs a hold of him and calls for a scout to come help with Levi’s horse. A designated horse-sitter, it seems, who does it solely for the promise of the steady flow of booze to be delivered to him outside.
“I just want to get back to base, Hange,” Levi protests, but his voice is dull and lifeless. There’s no venom to his fight.
“One drink, and it’ll be nice to get out of the rain,” Hange insists. They’re trying so hard to be upbeat, to have life in their eyes. Levi knows Hange well enough to see past the facade. There’s no signs of joy past the surface.
Hange wants to be numb tonight and have a warm body nearby. It’s the least Levi can do.
As dirty as he thinks taverns are, Levi feels much dirtier when he steps in, spattered with mud and blood and whatever other filth. He’s still drenched from the rain. It hasn’t let up and he doubts it will cease at all until tomorrow morning. He can hear it thundering on the roof of the tavern, like a furious heartbeat.
His boots squeak as he follows his comrades to a table; it’s not lost on him that the tavern has grown completely silent the moment they arrived.
He tries to ignore it but Levi’s prone to returning a few curious or frightened stares with some mean glares.
He does just that as he walks behind Hange, and it seems to work. But there’s one stare coming from somewhere in the tavern, he can feel it, but he can’t find the eyes. Everyone else has taken the hint and ducked their heads away. Almost everyone.
When he finally finds the pair of eyes on him, a crack of thunder booms outside and Levi swears that it stops time for a moment. Can thunder do that?
You clearly work here at the tavern, hair tugged out of the way and apron stained with ale. Eyes as big as the moon when they widen at the realization that he’s caught you staring. But you’re not staring in fear or curiosity or annoyance. Your eyes only hold kindness.
Levi doesn’t realize he’s frozen in place until you turn your head away from him and hurry off. It’s only until your gaze is torn away that he remembers he can move. And then he hears Hange calling for him from the table they’d settled on, a spot waiting for him.
He feels heavier and lighter simultaneously as he sits down and tries to focus on the meaningless mutterings between the scouts after shedding his cloak and jacket. Not even Hange is contributing to the chatter.
It’s not long until he feels someone behind him and Levi stiffens, the fresh memory of your face popping into his head. Slowly, he turns his head to look.
It’s you.
You’re expertly balancing a tray on your shoulder as you set down pints of ale in front of his comrades, not a word leaving your mouth. You can read the room perfectly. Levi can’t even bring himself to be angry that you didn’t come to ask about their drink preferences first. He’s willing to drink ale tonight.
But he’s surprised when, instead of a pint, you set down a mug of steaming tea in front of him.
“I’ve heard that you prefer tea, sir,” you murmur, and he can sense that you’re timid about what you’ve just said. Then you add, “But let me know if you’d like something else to drink.”
Levi is at a loss for words and he can’t pinpoint the feeling in his chest. He just nods curtly, staring up at you, holding your gaze, watching the way you get more and more flustered. Finally, he looks away, down at his tea, and brings both hands to wrap around the warm mug.
“Thank you,” he says, and slowly turns to watch you walk away from over his shoulder.
Is the tea thing really a topic of conversation everywhere?
He takes a sip and, while it’s an average cup of tea by his usual standards, Levi swears no other cup of tea has warmed him up faster in his whole life.
-----
The next time he’s at the tavern, it’s the night before departing to go beyond the wall. The soldiers are already some bottles deep in drink, swallowing their grief down along with the ale. It’s raining again, harder than the first night he’d come here. And Levi’s eyes have searched for glimpses of you since he arrived.
You always seem to escape his view. There are only fleeting glimpses as you saunter around, cleaning up and serving, and then disappearing to the back of the tavern where only the employees are allowed. You’re not the one to serve his table this time. But the fact that he was served a cup of tea tells him that you’re aware he’s there.
Levi doesn’t notice that when he can’t see you, you can see him. Thus, your gazes never cross paths.
He finally gets a good view of you when you come out wearing a cloak and a tired smile and tired eyes, and agree to help a barmaid serve a table of men a few meters away from his table, before you leave. You look uncomfortable as you serve them. They’re rowdy. One of them grabs the sleeve of your cloak and tugs hard. Levi hears the ripping of seams and then an uproar of drunk laughter from the table. And those eyes of yours fill with tears as you try to pull away to no avail.
Levi doesn’t realize he’s at the table until his hand is fisted into the man’s hair and yanking it so the drunkard can look at him.
“Keep your filthy hands to yourself,” he says in a low voice. He’s as calm as ever, but there is a dark undertone to his words that has the man and all his friends shutting up and shrinking back.
It disgusts him that these men would make you experience something like that.
When his eyes find yours, you’re looking at him in wonder, tears still lingering at your lash line.
“Thank you,” you breathe.
“You don’t need to thank me,” he mutters, and his only coherent thought at that moment is that his heart is pounding against his chest like the rain is pounding against the roof. Furious heartbeats.
The terrors of the world dawn on him full force when you clutch your cloak tighter around you and look towards the door. Levi knows war, and he knows terror, and he knows evil. He’s never thought about the fact that out there, you’re just as prone to the end of the world as anyone else. This tavern, this dingy little tavern, has been an escape for him.
It terrifies Levi to think that you’re out there on your own.
“Are you going home?” he asks you, and when you nod hesitantly, he makes up his mind. “I’m walking you home.”
“Oh, you don’t have to-” you begin, but Levi shakes his head.
“I want to,” he interjects. “It’s late and I’d like to know you’re safe. You seem like the type that finds trouble easily.”
“I seem like the type?” you echo, a corner of your mouth twitching up briefly. A hint of a smile.
Levi mentally curses himself but doesn’t elaborate further.
“Yep,” he confirms.
How can he tell you that he thinks that about you, not because of those men, but because you’d caught his attention? You’re doomed if you’re around Levi. Anyone and everyone is.
But he just can’t help himself.
“Okay. Thank you,” you whisper with a shy little smile, your eyes twinkling in the dim light of the tavern.
Levi clears his throat awkwardly and follows you out, ignoring the questions from his comrades, and definitely ignoring the little whoops from the ones who are too stupidly drunk to behave.
The rain is pouring from the sky and Levi grimaces, always bothered by the rain, and pulls the hood of his cloak over his head. He turns to you as you do the same, and only in that motion does he see how badly that drunkard has ruined your cloak. Your head may be protected from the rain, but your body is getting drenched.
He doesn’t give it a second thought before pulling off his cloak and shoving it your way with a grunt, the rain instantly drenching him.
You look at him in surprise, eyes as big as the moon again when they widen, and shake your head swiftly to refuse.
“Your cloak is useless. Use mine,” he tells you before you can verbally decline. “I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with a lot worse things than getting wet.”
You reluctantly switch your cloak for his and Levi folds your ruined one over his arm so you don’t have to carry it. And then you start walking together, falling in step with each other easily. The streetlamps illuminate the wet pavement as the two of you walk together.
“Captain Levi, you really didn’t need to walk me home,” you say after a few beats of silence. The only other sound is the pattering of rain.
He turns to look at you briefly, because he just can’t stop looking at you, and for a moment he feels a dark pang in his chest when he looks you over while wearing his cloak. The green looks lovely on you, and while his heart flutters at the image of you wearing something of his, it also sinks at even the thought of you being a scout.
Levi would never want you to own a green cloak of your own. He would never want to expose you to war.
There is no beauty in war.
And you are very beautiful.
His head spins for a moment.
It’s the first time Levi has ever thought that about anything or anyone.
He has never had the luxury of seeing something beautiful before. He sees death and he sees war and he sees terrors beyond the walls. Levi has seen nothing but the cruelties of a dying humanity.
And now here you are, so beautiful, the person who gives him tea and stares at him with wide, kind eyes.
“It would just make me feel better to know you’re safe,” he says when he realizes he hasn’t said anything back yet.
You give him a shy smile, and then Levi replays your words in his mind and frowns to himself.
“And you can just call me Levi. Not Captain Levi,” he adds.
When you say your name, Levi realizes you’ve never been properly introduced. He didn’t even know your name, and you’ve got him acting this way.
Like everything else about you, your name is beautiful to him.
“Don’t you just love the rain?” you sigh, stretching a hand out from the cloak to catch raindrops on your palm.
“I hate it, actually,” Levi responds.
He cringes at how blunt he sounds, but when you actually laugh, he softens and looks at you from the corner of his eye.
“Why do you love the rain?” he asks.
“Because it makes everything look beautiful,” you answer easily, turning to him to give him a smile. “I think rainy days are magical.”
Levi takes a look around, and he doesn’t see what you see. Everything just looks wet.
But when he looks at you, he sees the way that the raindrops catch onto a few stray strands of hair peeking out from under the hood of the cloak you wear, and he sees the way the air puffs out of your mouth from the chilly temperature, and he sees the way your eyes glimmer in the faint light of the streetlamps, and he thinks that’s beautiful.
It turns out you don’t live that far. The short walk makes Levi frown in disappointment, but when you reach out and gently touch his arm to get his attention, he feels a rush of heat flow through him. And something else, another feeling that he still can’t quite pinpoint.
“Come inside for a bit to dry off. I have tea,” you tell him.
And how can he refuse that?
He helps you start a fire in your little home and he lets you make the tea however you want instead of giving his usual instructions. When you give him a quilt to wrap up in after hanging up the cloaks and stepping out of soggy shoes, Levi is almost in disbelief at the comfort he feels as your hands playfully toss the fabric around his shoulders. The comfort almost makes him uncomfortable.
He only knows war. He doesn’t know this...new feeling. What is it? It feels like it’s at the tip of his tongue.
When he looks out the window, he knows better than anyone that there’s a war going on. He’ll be riding out to meet it face to face tomorrow morning.
But when you sit down next to him in front of the fire and hand him his tea, a quilt draped around your shoulders too, the both of you fall into a lovely silence and Levi can actually forget about it all. In your little home, it does not feel like the end of the world.
For the first time in his life, he is experiencing something beautiful.
-----
Levi’s feet ache as he trudges down the street.
A scout has agreed to take his horse back to base at Levi’s request. Though he usually wants to get back to base as soon as possible, today is different.
Two days outside of the walls and all Levi wants is to see something beautiful. He can hear the creaking wheels of the wagon carrying the dead, far behind him, but haunting him.
He feels heavy.
And he’s back to feeling like it’s the end of the world, and the world is on his shoulders.
He doesn’t want you to see him like this, deep down. Right now, he looks a mess, and he feels a mess. He’s not beautiful, and you don’t deserve to look at the result of war. And Levi is the result of war. He’s scarred, physically and mentally, and he looks like he’s seen nothing but doom. In truth, he has.
But none of that stops him from trekking to your little home, the evening light slowly turning to dusk as he approaches your street.
He’s basically operating on instinct, horrors flashing through his mind as he knocks on your door. There was so much death, again. There was so much fear and so much terror, again. It’s the end of the world.
The things thrumming through his mind stop as soon as your door opens as he’s greeted with the sight of your wide, surprised eyes.
“You’re back,” is all you say, and Levi swallows thickly and nods.
You can see the remnants of war in Levi’s eyes and he can tell, and he feels ashamed to make you witness that. But his shame ebbs when you step aside to silently welcome him inside your home, eyes as kind as ever.
“Would you like some tea, Levi?” you ask him, voice just above a whisper.
He steps inside and everything is as he remembers it from two nights ago. There’s a fire crackling and a few quilts tossed over chairs. He spots the one you’d let him borrow and wants nothing more than to have you wrap it around him again.
That indecipherable feeling comes back again as soon as the door closes behind him. The one he can’t quite place yet. When he looks at you, he feels it stronger than ever and makes his gaze soften.
“I’d love some tea,” he murmurs.
Levi stiffens when you move toward him rather than to your kitchen. He’s frozen in place, doesn’t know what to do when you’re inches away from him. Your eyes search his face before your hand comes up to gently caress him from temple to jaw, just once, and then your palm settles nicely on his cheek.
“I’ll make us some tea, then,” you tell him with that gentle smile of yours, and then pull away from him to go to the kitchen.
He stands there for a few moments longer before settling into the chair he’d sat in before, quilt wrapped around him as he stares into the fire.
The smell of tea wafts to him and Levi turns to watch you prepare it.
Beautiful.
That unknown feeling is coursing through him now, and Levi has come to the conclusion on what it is, but doesn’t want to believe it.
Because a man like Levi doesn’t know anything about this feeling.
What does a man like Levi know about peace?
He looks out the window and understands that the world is ending if he doesn’t do anything to stop it. There is war out there and he has to fight.
But when he looks at you, it doesn’t matter.
He’s been fighting for something that isn’t his. Maybe that can change. He can let himself have this. He can let himself know peace, after an entire life of fighting. Levi would like to fight for you. He’d like to fight knowing that it’s to make sure you never have to see what he sees.
Even if the world is ending, it’s okay right now. He’s okay with it as long as he can stay here with you and protect you from it.
When you give him his tea and sit next to him, you don’t bother to press him to talk about it. Levi appreciates that. When you cup his cheek again like you’d done earlier, he’s glad you don’t say anything when he leans into your touch. He doesn’t want words right now.
He just wants to revel in the feeling you’ve brought him.
Peace.
#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x you#levi one shot#levi ackerman oneshot#levi ackerman fanfiction#levi ackerman fic#levi fanfiction#levi fic#levi ackerman#levi#aot fanfiction#aot oneshots#aot#snk fanfiction#snk#attack on titan fanfiction
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BnHA Chapter 317: My Boy Was Just Like Me
Previously on BnHA: AFO randomly blew up Lady Nagant as a good reminder of why you should never make a deal with this fucking guy, smdh. Hawks was all “well if it isn’t my two best friends, Deku and Lady Nagant, both of whom I respect and love tremendously.” Everyone was all “??” and Horikoshi was all “shh... just pretend” because it was too embarrassing for him to admit that he forgot to write a couple of set-up flashbacks I guess. Anyway so Hawks got Lady to tell them where AFO was hiding out, and everyone said goodbye to her and Overhaul, who never did get to see his boss (sorry buddy, I’ll send you a vial of my tears in the mail), and headed out to a house in the woods. AFO was all “hello Deku :) :) it sure is fun making you suffer :) :) :) anyways this is a trap”, and blew up the house. Yeah, we all here are getting reaaaaaaaal tired of your shit, AFO.
Today on BnHA: The Hawksquad and Edgeplatoon meet in a warehouse and are all “what should we do about the fact that everything sucks?” Mt. Lady is all “here’s a thought, what if we tried battling AFO with more than six people.” Hawks and Endeavor are all “great initiative, but just a friendly reminder that our friends also suck and would probably betray Deku which would suck further still.” Shouto is all “ANSWER THE PHONE DAD” and Endeavor is all “[IRONICALLY DOESN’T ANSWER THE PHONE].” Meanwhile over in Sadtown, capital of Sadland Prefecture, Japan, Deku is all “All Might, as you can clearly see I am completely fine and good, never been better in fact, definitely not caught up in the throes of an epic mental breakdown which is shutting me down emotionally, anyway so on that note I would like to leave you now goodbye!!” All Might is all “[can’t actually form any words because he’s too distraught].” Fandom is all “o(╥﹏╥)o.” Horikoshi is all “(*＾-’) 乃 [pew pew finger guns and barrel rolls into the darkness].”
sweet jesus lord
this literally doesn’t even look like Deku anymore?? this looks like Dark!Deku who shows up to fight you in that one room in the Water Temple. he looks like he’s about to crawl out of my television set and murder me with his psychic powers good lord
holy shit lmao Horikoshi is really just shrugging his shoulders and resolving last week’s cliffhanger with a single line of dialogue
fire is no one’s weakness. idk what other options you’ve got, AFO, but you’re gonna have to go back to the drawing board. maybe try bees or something. I’m just saying. we’re all expecting fire at this point but nobody is expecting bees
anyway so now they’re all sitting in some warehouse somewhere chatting about it I guess. shoutout to Horikoshi for finally giving my man Edgeshot some more dialogue at long last
well, Edgeshot, to answer your question, she exploded. so naturally she’s fine
nah just kidding, Hawks says she won’t be able to help them out much because she’s recovering from being exploded. this is the part where we all ignore the fact that Hawks got set on fire for like a full ten minutes back during the War arc and was only in the hospital for a day. anyways enjoy your temporary plot hiatus Nagant
man there’s a lot of dialogue here and I’m trying to figure out where to insert commentary but it’s kinda difficult lol. basically, Edge and the others are saying that they should gather up the other remaining heroes and get them all caught up on the whole OFA situation. which, hmmmm
like on the one hand, these guys definitely aren’t going to cut it on their own, so it’s a reasonable suggestion on the face of it. but on the other hand, do we really want to entrust the OFA secret to a bunch of other people, most of whom shat the bed during the War arc to be quite frank? is it really worth the additional risk? especially given that any one of them might go spilling the beans to the public -- or worse, betray them to AFO??
also just a quick side note here, Mt. Lady’s character development never ceases to delight me. she’s become so committed to her responsibility as a hero these days, and it fucking suits her. I genuinely consider to be one of the elites now. I mean it doesn’t hurt that all the other elites are fucking dead lol but still
wait what? Death Arms retired??
Death Arms as in the guy who was too afraid of a little fire to try and save a terrified 14-year-old kid who was slowly suffocating right before his eyes?? that Death Arms???? color me surprised. shocked, I tell you
...okay but holy fuck
Death Arms. bro. my expectations for you were low but holy shit. like I’m sorry, but I don’t even have it in me to try and pretend like I feel the slightest bit of sympathy for him or Old Man Samurai or any of those other guys today. thanks for a whole lot of nothing my dude. good riddance
(ETA: so I’m rereading this the next day and realize this comes off as kind of harsh, so let me just try to clarify. it’s not the fact that he’s quitting that bothers me, to be honest. it’s the fact that he’s quitting specifically because he feels like the public is being mean to him. that’s it.
seriously. it would be one thing if he was quitting because he was scared, because now that is human. nobody wants to die, and I doubt any amount of training can ever fully prepare someone to go up against that fear. but the thing is, he never once mentions that, or talks about the danger aspect. instead, I got the distinct vibe from this speech that Death Arms is one of those people who only became a hero because of the limelight. and I just don’t have any patience for that. if all you care about are likes and subscribes then go become a fucking youtuber or some shit. nothing wrong with that! but you didn’t; you signed up to be a hero and protect these people. they gave you their respect and admiration because they trusted you to protect them. and now that they’re no longer in the mood to worship and applaud your every move on account of them being scared shitless because they’re living in the literal end times, you decide to dip. so like okay, fine then. don’t let the door hit you on the way out. anyways lol sorry for the rant.)
anyway so yeah. perfect example of why I don’t exactly have a ton of faith in most of the remaining heroes out there lol. also let me just once again give a shoutout to my best girl Mt. Lady whom I suddenly find myself appreciating all the more
“please calm down makeste. drink some water and enjoy this fresh new jeans pun” listen Horikoshi don’t tell me what to do dammit
fine. it is a nice pun, I guess
-- damn so now Endeavor’s saying that the media is already being fed info by the retired heroes. so for some of these guys it wasn’t enough for them to abandon all the people they swore to protect and to leave their fellow heroes out in the cold; they decided they might as well actively make things worse for them while they were at it, huh. like I get wanting to spill all the dirty secrets from your old job that you just quit, but this isn’t Jeff Bezos you’re screwing over, this is a sixteen-year-old kid
-- like, yes!! this, right here!!
exactly!! let’s not forget that there are already two prior instances of this happening. Endeavor arguably deserved it, but Katsuki not so much
huh. Endeavor seems to have a more optimistic outlook regarding this than I do lol
I mean, this is the same public that didn’t hesitant to blame a kidnapped child for his own kidnapping, and then later on for being the downfall of the Symbol of Peace. but okay then
anyway so blah blah blah, more talk about how they need to use Deku as bait, which basically puts them back at square one, and then they’re all just trailing off into silence and sitting around in the dark lmao this is getting very depressing
SKDJFLSDKJ:LFKJ
SHOUTO?????
NOOOOOOOO ARE YOU KIDDING ME
OH HOW THE TURNTABLES OMG. THE GHOSTER HAS BECOME THE GHOSTEE. Endeavor you petty son of a bitch. and what a brutal cut to that flashback too. “let’s stop Touya together” nah Shouto I’ve got a better idea why don’t I abandon you in U.A. and sally off with Hawks and Jeanist to found the “let’s pretend like we’re doing something to help Deku” club, which basically consists of us sitting around making terrible decisions all day long
Shouto, honey. you deserve better my little Coca Cola can. .........but if you really do have something important you need to tell your dad you could just text it to him. all the love and support, hugs and kisses, you’re doing amazing sweetie. but if you need to pass on any vital information you can just write it down and hit send honey that’s all I’m saying love
now he’s getting another call?? -- or, no, Hawks is getting a call from All Might
ARE YOU FOR REAL HAWKS OMFG
so while you all were sitting around talking about how useless you are, the kid you’re supposed to be protecting was battling another hired gun. I see. please pardon me for one second, I have a phone call to make. the phone call is to RockLockRock and Manual. the reason for the call is to apologize for calling them the worst bodyguards ever back during the War arc. the reason for the apology is because it turns out I WAS SEVERELY MISTAKEN OMFG
JESUS CHRIST DEKU DID YOU JUST KILL THIS MAN LMAO
shoutout to Horikoshi for offscreening this fight. we get it, lol. Deku strong and scary, villains ineffectual and feeble, and AFO... [checks notes] yep, still a dick. the angst arc continues
-- the angst arc continues, SIR
jesus christ I may have to rethink all of my opinions about Deku being framed for murder in movie 3 lmao. never mind. he did it, your honor
holy fucking shit Deku. “he might blow up, so please be careful” fdlskjflk jlskdjflk lwkejflk anyway so I’ve decided the explosion running gag can stay, actually
DEKU WAIT YOU FORGOT YOUR LUNCH!!
lol why do I get the feeling some serious shit is about to go down. ALL MIGHT NEVER MIND BACK OFF I THINK HE NEEDS HIS SPACE
OH MY FUCK I GASPED OUT LOUD
NO NO NO. I KNEW THIS WAS COMING GODDAMMIT BUT NO. NEVER MIND, I CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT IT, I’M NOT READY TO CRY TODAY
shit. shit shit shit shit and OF COURSE all I can fucking think about is that stupid fucking prophecy and gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Deku please. please please please if you really are going to leave All Might here, please be so very careful in choosing your farewell words to him now because have this sudden horrible fear that this might be the last time you ever see him alive and oh god. oh god oh god
DEKU NO, YOU’RE REALLY NOT!?!?
I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE LESS FINE IN MY LIFE, ACTUALLY????
holy shit. and the fucking callback to the prophecy now. just in case we forgot. WHICH FYI, WE DIDN’T. but that’s basically confirming that this is all still very much on the table and HORIKOSHI NEVER FORGETS oh my god someone please hold me
and the fact that Deku’s flashing back to it now too, though?? because he never forgot either, because of course he didn’t, and now all this stuff is happening, and AFO’s words are getting to him, and this is literally his worst fear come to life and so of course he’s distancing himself from everyone, and now it’s finally come to even this. even the person he admires most
-- OKAY NO, FUCKING COME ON ALREADY I CAN’T TAKE THIS
I GET IT OH MY GOD, I ALREADY UNDERSTAND THE EMOTIONAL IMPACT OF THIS MOMENT WITHOUT ALL OF THE DEVASTATING FLASHBACKS THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!! YOU ACTUALLY DO WANT ME TO CRY, HUH, IS THAT IT. THIS MAN THAT HE THINKS OF AS A FATHER, THIS MAN WHO HAS BEEN EVERYTHING TO HIM SINCE HE WAS A VERY YOUNG CHILD. EVERYTHING THEY’VE BEEN THROUGH, JUXTAPOSED AGAINST EVERYTHING DEKU IS UP AGAINST, EVERYTHING THAT’S AT RISK. LET’S JUST PUT IT ALL SIDE BY SIDE. LET’S JUST PILE ON ALL OF THE FEELS
(ETA: just a quick note that even though some of the posts I’ve read have described these as All Might’s flashbacks, I’m pretty sure they are Deku’s. most of these are scenes that only he was there for, so yeah. even though All Might is the one thinking the thoughts on the next page, the flashbacks are what’s running through Deku’s mind right now, and so we’re getting that emotion from both of them, which makes it extra devastating lol.)
wait, what???
WHAT??? do you really think that’s why he’s been so determined to protect you this entire time?? simply because you’re his successor?
-- oh no wait lol I think I got that mixed up, this is All Might saying that Deku feels the need to protect him. well that makes more sense lol
oh my god I cannot
his last words. his last words to him. and we can’t even see if he is smiling, like All Might always encouraged him to do. but what are the odds he can’t actually bring himself to do it. what are the odds he’s actually crying. oh god this scene is going to rip my heart out and STOMP on it in the anime isn’t it. Deku’s VA is going to full on murder me with emotion. not that there’ll be much of me left to murder after the thorough job that Horikoshi has already done here
YOU’RE CRYING. DEKU IS LEAVING ALL MIGHT AND IGNORING HIS OUTSTRETCHED HAND AND YOU’RE CRYING. AND BY “YOU” I MEAN “ME”, FUCK
nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope no words just feels just a big ol’ pile of feels. I do not have the strength. future me... [broadly gestures] good luck with all that
(ETA: LOL, WELL THEN.
what breaks my heart here is All Might. All Might, and everything he’s been through, and history repeating itself, and forcing him to live this moment from both sides because he wasn’t strong enough to fix things.
Toshinori had only just turned eighteen when Nana died. like, I feel like we don’t mention this enough. the All Might we know is a sixty-something-year-old man, and so everyone always talks about him like he’s basically been an adult forever. but he was a child when he met Nana. and he was still just a child when she died. barely a year older than Deku is now. younger than Mirio was when we first met him.
and we don’t talk about that. we don’t talk about how devastating that was for him. and we don’t talk about how the reason he grew up to become so reserved and withdrawn -- for all that he always tried so hard to outwardly project the image of a bold, confident, smiling hero -- was specifically because of what AFO did to him. because AFO targeted him in the exact way that he is now targeting Deku. because that’s what he does. he goes after every new user of OFA, and he finds out what’s most important to them, and then he destroys it. and for Toshinori, that was Nana. if you’ve read All Might Rising, you know that AFO basically killed her in front of him (and only killed her, while letting Toshinori and Gran get away). Toshinori (while crying) later says she was like a mother to him. and interestingly enough, during this same conversation, Gran tells Toshinori that he can see “that madness in [his] eyes” when Toshi talks about becoming strong enough to defeat AFO. madness in his eyes. sound familiar??
what’s happening to Deku now is the exact same thing that happened to Toshinori when he was a boy. AFO tried every bit as hard to break him as he’s trying with Deku now. “the path you’ve chosen is a thorny one. every battle grinds away at your soul with no end in sight.” we don’t talk about how Toshinori experienced this same thing for forty fucking years. and all the while isolating himself, exactly like Deku is doing now. pushing people away, exactly like Deku. because he never had anyone who was able to reach out and pull him back. and those words that he now finds himself frozen and unable to speak -- “don’t push yourself”; “you can rest” -- are the same words that no one ever said to him until decades later, when it was already far too late to make any difference.
everything that Deku is experiencing now is what Toshinori also went through. and it’s only now, as he watches it happen to his student, the boy he loves like a son, that he’s finally starting to realize the full extent of how wrong it was. you shouldn’t have to fight alone. you shouldn’t have to bear that kind of enormous burden alone. you shouldn’t have to push yourself, and you can rest. you can rest.
but it’s too late. just as he’s finally coming to understand it all, it’s all too fucking late. and he can’t say the words, he doesn’t know how to say the words, and then just like that, Deku is gone.
and he’s alone. again.)
I can’t. this can’t be their goodbye. I’m not ready. for this to be how they finally part, and then they never see each other again except in OFA. how is that fair. how is that fair. how is that fair
fuck me. lol. how many pages are left in this thing. let’s just wrap this up lol. so now of all the times for this fucking guy to finally show up
I can’t believe Stain has been here literally this entire time hiding behind this random wall and cutting onions. that was you who was cutting the onions, right. no need to answer that we’ll just say it was
HORIKOSHI JUST END THE CHAPTER PLEASE I’M OUT OF SPOONS. YOU HURT ME SO GOOD AND I LOVE YOU FOR IT BUT YOU NEED TO LET ME GO NOW SO I CAN BEGIN THE PROCESS OF TRYING TO PUT MY LIFE BACK IN ORDER HERE. SO WHERE ARE WE CUTTING TO NOW WHAT IS HAPPENING
Stain did you also let AFO give you a new quirk. what’s with you guys. do you like blowing up
oh nvm lol because they were talking about THIS GUY ohhhhhh my fucking god
THAT’S BECAUSE HE’S SAD, LINDA!! jesus
omfg. and so yes, good, the chapter is ending here now on page 15. for once I am FULLY on board with that lmao
anyway so tune in next week for more adventures of Werewolf Deku!! that is, assuming we don’t finally cut back to U.A. at long last, which is actually a strong possibility considering that this chapter will likely mark the end of volume 31. it sure wouldn’t kill Horikoshi to start giving us some hope after everything he’s just put us through lol. KACCHAN COME GET YA BOY
#bnha 317#all might#midoriya izuku#and endeavor and hawks and mt. lady and all the rest of them I guess#literally forgot all about them by the end lol#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha meta#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha#this wound up so long lmao I'm so sorry
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Unknown - Isaac Lahey
a/n: this turned out a lot longer than i expected, but i’m happy with it :) super soft isaac is my weakness
•••
Scott had warned you about going out at night during a full moon. Everyone had, honestly. But people telling you what to do wasn’t how you went about life, so that’s why you found yourself running to the grocery store for some dinner.
Sure, you had things to make at home, but nothing sounded good. You let Scott know you were heading out, just so he was aware of your location. Though you were sure nothing would happen.
Strolling the many aisles of the store, you quietly hum to yourself and finally find a box of frozen toasted ravioli in the freezer section. You also grab a bag of chicken nuggets and a bag of waffle fries for more variety, and head to check out.
“What’s got you out on a full moon?” The cashier asks. You pause from getting your wallet out of your bag.
“Huh?” He laughs and scans your items.
“You gotta be careful on full moon nights in Beacon Hills. I’ve seen shit happen, and it’s not pretty.” You nod, saying nothing, getting a bad vibe from this guy. Once your things were bagged and paid for, you dart out of the store and to your car as quickly as you can.
You came to a stop at a stop light, the roads empty from any soul. As you wait for the light to turn green, something falls on top of your car. Or jumps.
The sound of whoever, or whatever, raises your anxiety, and you are too terrified to get out and look. Instead, you grab your phone and call Scott, whispering to him in case you made a sudden noise and startled whatever was outside.
“Scott?” You whisper-yell to him. “There’s something on my car.”
“Something on your car?”
“Y-yeah. On top of it. I’m at the intersection of-” You were cut off by a scream emitting from your throat as the creature broke your windshield. Your shaky hands unbuckle yourself from the seatbelt and as fast as you can, you jump out of your car and try to run away.
The wolf, as you had now determined from the sound of their growl, caught your leg and tore your jeans, their claws digging into your skin. You let out a loud scream as the pain courses through your body. The phone was still in your hand, surprisingly, so Scott heard everything.
As the wolf was beginning to tear at your back, something startled them and they ran off, leaving you bleeding out and attempting to speak to Scott.
He raced to you, though feeling the effects of the full moon, he was able to bring you to his house, where Melissa was waiting for you to tend to your wounds. The pain became too much, causing you to pass out. But Melissa monitored you the entire time.
“How are you feeling?” She asks when you finally awake the following morning. You groan and realize you’re laying on your stomach.
“Like I’ve been hit like a truck,” you moan. She chuckles and hands you a glass of water, helping you sit up. You hiss sharply as you sit on the stitches that Melissa sewed the wounds up with.
“I’d advise you to sleep on your stomach for the next few nights, at least until some of the stitches are gone. Scott is wanting you to stay here for a couple days, just so we can watch you and make sure nothing else happens.” You sigh and try to stand, but ultimately fail due to the weakness of your leg.
“Where is he?”
“At school. He didn’t want to go because he wanted to watch over you, but I made him. No use in staying around if you’re just resting.” You chuckle and sit back down, the pain slightly subsiding as you put pressure on your other leg.
“He’ll be back in a few hours. I’m sure he’s going to want to know everything that happened,” Melissa continues.
“I’m not even sure I know what happened. I mean I remember it breaking my windshield and running for my life. I didn’t even see who attacked me.” Melissa rubs your shoulder and gives you a couple painkillers to take.
“They’ll figure it out. They always do. Scott can always go to Derek to help figure it out.”
—
You were ordered to lay down for the rest of the day, per Melissa, but when Scott and Stiles returned from school, you weren’t allowed much rest.
Scott and Stiles run through the door as soon as Stiles parks his jeep. They run up to the guest room, where you are staying, and are very happy to see you awake.
“Why the hell would you go out on a full moon?!” Stiles scolds you.
“Fuck off,” you mumble, sitting up with the help of Scott. The medicine you took earlier had worn off, so Scott took some of your pain until you could comfortably sit up. You leaned against your friend while Stiles stood in front of you two.
“I don’t know who attacked me, so don’t even ask, I went out because I wanted some food to make, I was aware of my surroundings the entire time, and the wolf jumped on top of my car. I couldn’t do much, I didn’t even know what it was until it broke my windshield and I ran out.”
“I wonder if it’s one of those new wolves that Derek bit,” Stiles wonders, the wheels in his head turning.
“It doesn’t matter who it was now. (Y/N) said she didn’t see, so there’s really nothing to be done. The most important thing, though, is that she’s alive.” Stiles nods and takes a seat next to you, hugging you carefully.
A week later, you were back at school like nothing had happened, though you were still healing. Your friends weren’t able to help you throughout the entire day, but you managed. Thanks to someone.
Isaac saw you struggling to put things into your backpack from your locker after school ended one day, so he came over to help.
“Do you need someone to hold your backpack?” He asks nicely. His bright blue eyes captivated you and his smile was just as bright.
“Uh sure, thank you. I’m still recovering from an accident, so it’s still a little tough to get around.” He takes your backpack from your shoulder and holds it open for you, allowing you to stuff some books in and take some out.
“You’re Isaac, right? On the lacrosse team with Stiles and Scott?” He chuckles and zips your backpack for you.
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“I recognize the curly hair,” you grin glancing up at his golden locks. He blushes a little and throws the bag over his shoulder for you.
“I’ll walk you to your car, I can tell carrying it was uncomfortable.”
“Well thank you, again.”
From that moment, you and Isaac grew very close, spending lots of time together on the weekends, seeing each other every day in school, him helping you with your backpack and walking you to your car as well.
A year later, and a relationship had blossomed. Months after meeting, Isaac confessed his feelings and asked you to be his girlfriend. It was a sweet moment and Scott was so happy to hear that you two were together. He thought Isaac was great for you, after having his name cleared after his father was killed.
Thankfully, you had fully healed from your attack wounds, although they left deep scarring, you were slowly accepting that it happened, and there’s nothing to do. Isaac had been so loving and tender with them, though.
You told him the truth after a couple months of being together, that you were attacked by a werewolf. Since then, he always took time to run his fingers along them, kissing them sweetly in more intimate moments, and assuring you that they are perfect and don’t make you any less beautiful; he in fact told you they make you look even more beautiful, and it shows you’re strong.
Now, there was an alpha pack in town, looking to stir up trouble, and of course involving the pack.
It was a normal day at school, so far. During your independent study, you and Isaac offered to help your teacher get some stuff from the storage closet. She knew you were dating, so she told you, “no funny business”.
You and Isaac stood in the closet, rummaging through different boxes to find what you needed.
“Should we partake in some “funny business”?” Isaac cheekily asks. You giggle and smack his chest.
“No. As much as I would love to, she trusts us t-” Your sentence was interrupted by the door to the closet slamming shut. Isaac whips around and jiggles the handle, and when it doesn’t budge, he starts to freak out.
“Isaac, it’s okay,” you whisper, your hand coming to rest on his shoulder.
“No, no, no, no,” he mumbles, running his hands through his hair in a stressful manner.
“Hey, look at me, babe,” you try to get his attention off the fact that it’s a small space. He ignores you and tries to push the door, knocking and banging on it for someone to hear.
“There’s something against it,” he breathes, shrugging his cardigan off and continuing to push on the door.
“Isaac, please calm down, it’s going to be fine.” He starts screaming and pounding on the door, slightly terrifying you. You try once more to pry him away from it, but he turns to you, eyes golden, canines on show.
You stumble back, scared of his current state.
“Babe, please, listen to my voice, Isaac!”
He growls, and fear runs through you. His claws latch onto your arm, digging into your skin. You yelp and trip over your feet, falling against the shelving.
Suddenly, the door flies open and Scott grabs Isaac by the shoulder, throwing him to the ground. He growls again as his alpha screams to anchor him. You slowly walk out of the closet, holding your wrist close to your chest.
Scott stands and comes over to make sure you’re okay, but he can tell there is something else wrong.
“I’m so sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to do that,” Isaac whimpers, tears in his eyes. You stare down at him, nights of the attack flashing in your mind. The growl the wolf let out that night.
Isaac’s growl.
“It’s okay,” you whisper, wanting to run all the way home.
“(Y/N)?” Scott breaks you from your daze. “What’s wrong?” You try to explain it, but Isaac’s beautiful eyes stop you. He’s vulnerable at the moment, you couldn’t tell him.
“N-nothing. I’m just gonna go to the nurse,” you mumble, dashing away from the two wolves and to the nurse. They share a worried glance, but brush it off and carry on with the day.
When school ends, Isaac cautiously makes his way over to you.
“(Y/N)?” He calls out, stepping up to your locker. You don’t make eye contact with him for a moment, trying to ignore the voice in your head telling you to.
“Baby, please. I’m so sorry I hurt you, you know I didn’t mean to,” he begs. Finally, you look at him and shut your locker.
“I know. I said it was okay.”
“But you-” You walk away, events playing in your head as he yells for you. You quickly run out of the school and to your car.
Later that night, you head over to Scott’s house to talk with him.
“Hey, what’s up?” He answers the door, letting you in from the rain.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Okay.” You two head up to his room, and for the time being, you completely forget that Isaac lives with Scott.
“Is this about earlier?” He asks.
“Yeah. I, um, I’m…”
“It’s really unlike you to be scared around Isaac. And I could smell the fear on you, it was so strong.”
“He’s the one who attacked me,” you blurt out. Scott is stunned speechless.
“Wh...How do you know?”
“His growl. It’s the same growl I heard when I was caught by him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Aren’t you the one that said every wolf has a different growl? I know what I heard, and as soon as I heard his growl today, it brought me back to that night and I began to relive it and-”
“What?” A new voice makes your blood run cold. Isaac opens the door even more and steps inside. Tears were evident in his eyes and on his cheeks.
“I did it?” He breathes out, his hands shaking at the thought.
“Isaac, listen-”
“No, it’s okay,” he whimpers, leaving the room almost immediately. Scott tries to stop him, but he’s too quick.
“Should I go talk to him?” You wonder. Scott shakes his head.
“Give him some time, until he’s ready to come to terms with it.”
That day came a week later. Isaac had been avoiding you all week at school, not wanting to be reminded of what he did. But it wasn’t him, it was the full moon.
Scott had something up his sleeve, though. He asked you to meet him at his house after school, but when you arrived, he wasn’t there. Isaac had to answer the door, and had to face you by himself.
“Uh, I guess since I’m here, can we talk?” You ask him softly. He nods and lets you in. You follow him up to his room and he takes a seat on the bed.
“Isaac, I don’t blame you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I talked to Scott about the whole thing and he said that since it was a full moon, and your first full moon, you had no idea what you were doing. You had no recollections because it wasn’t you.”
“It was me,” he whispers. “I gave you those awful scars, I put you through so much pain, and I hate myself for it.”
“Now what happened to my scars being beautiful?” You tease, wanting to lighten the mood. Isaac surprisingly chuckles, but stops moments later.
“They are beautiful, but I put you through so much pain that night.”
“You don’t remember it, though, do you? Because if you did, as soon as you saw my scars, you would have known it was you.” He nods and stares at his hands.
“I just don’t think I can be with you and forget what happened,” he whispers. Your heart shatters at his words and you sigh.
“Please don’t do this, Isaac,” you beg softly. “I don’t blame you, I don’t hate you, I-”
“How can you sit here and look at me, and not be reminded of that night?”
“Because I love you!” He goes silent. Sure, you’ve said it before, but now, it feels different.
“I truly love you, Isaac. I may have been hurt, but I’m alive.”
“But…”
“No. I don’t care about anything else. Yeah, at first, it was hard to come to terms with, but I’m okay now.”
“I always knew there was something about you that I recognized, your scent. You smelled so familiar when we first met, but I could never figure out what it was. I even asked Derek and he had no idea. But now…”
“Hey,” you whisper, cupping his cheeks, making him look up at you. “It’s. Okay. I promise. Please believe me when I tell you that I’m not upset with you and that I don’t care that it was you.” He stares into your eyes and after a few moments, he nods. You let go of his face, but he stands up as soon as you do.
You step back a couple inches and wait for him to either say something or walk out of the room. To your surprise, he falls into your arms, pulling you close to him, and begins crying into your shoulder. His body shakes with sobs and the sounds break your heart.
“I’m so sorry, babe. I really am. I know I wasn’t aware, but I feel awful.”
“I know, Isaac. You’re okay.” His face is nuzzled in your shoulder, the tears pooling on your shirt.
“I love you so much,” he whimpers, his voice slightly strained. “I’m so sorry, I promise to never hurt you like that again.” Your hands run up and down Isaac’s back comfortingly, not saying anything else and just letting him get everything out.
“Can I stay the night with you?” You ask him when he pulls away. You knew it was a long shot and you weren’t even sure he would want you there.
“Of course, baby,” he smiles, caressing your cheek with his hand, wiping your tears away while doing so.
He pulls you over to the bed, and sits down, but before you follow him, he stops you. As tender as ever, he removes your shirt and shorts, discarding them to the side.
“Turn around,” he softly orders. You do so, facing the wall of his room. His fingers ever so gently dance across the deep scarring on your back and thigh. Quiet sniffles sound through the room as Isaac comes face to face with what he’s done, after finding out that it was him after all.
“Come lay down on your stomach,” he says this time. You wipe your tears away and climb onto the bed, your head turned to the side to watch him a little.
“So so beautiful,” he whispers, straddling your back like he is going to give you a massage. Instead, he leans down and presses his lips to the scars on your back, kissing them one by one, up until he reaches your shoulder.
“Yet so much pain,” he continues, moving down to the back of your thigh and doing the same. By now, tears were free falling down your cheeks and onto your arm.
“I already said this, but I promise to never hurt you like this again. You mean the world to me and I never want you to be in pain because of me. For the wrong reasons.” A giggle escapes your lips at his slightly sexual connotation. He flips you back around and crawls up your body to face you.
“I love you,” he tells you once more, kissing your lips as sweetly as ever and as passionately as ever. “Please don’t leave me.”
“I won’t,” you confirm, bringing him back down for another kiss. “You mean the world to me as well, Isaac.”
#isaac lahey#isaac lahey imagines#isaac lahey imagine#isaac lahey x reader#daniel sharman#teen wolf#teen wolf imagines#imagines#fanfiction#fanfic
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First Day
This is an Ikemen Sengoku coffee shop AU. Approx 1700 words. Nobunaga, the owner of Azuchi Cafe, hires a girl to work in his coffee shop alongside his other oddball employees.
Pastry Chef and little rain cloud: Ieyasu Tokugawa
Head Chef and irredeemable flirt: Masamune Date
Dining Room Manager and rule-master: Hideyoshi Toyotomi
Barista and most popular kid in your class: Ranmaru Mori
Barista and coffee disaster: Mitsunari Ishida
Accountant and walking bad-boy vibe: Mitsuhide Akechi
I have never written a coffee shop AU and I have no idea what I'm doing.
Nobunaga unlocked the back door at 3am. It was so early most people would still call it night, but he enjoyed the peace and quiet at this hour. As if he were the sole living human in a world of stray cats and blinking traffic lights.
He flipped on the lights and began morning prep. As the owner of Azuchi Cafe, he didn’t need to be the shop opener, but he was the kind of man who’d never ask his employees to do something he wouldn’t do himself. This meant he often worked from opening until close, cleaning the kitchen at 10pm. It was something he was proud of, even if it was exhausting some days.
Ieyasu arrived a few minutes later, along with the morning shipment. Fresh fruit, cream, some new coffee bean varieties, and other items he stocked daily. The blond was quiet as he helped unload. Not a morning person, not by a longshot.
Once the crates were inside, Ieyasu made a beeline for the espresso machine and had two cups on the counter before Nobunaga completed his inventory check.
The blond downed both cups and then got started in the kitchen. He was too smart for a cafe job - easily one of the best bakers Nobunaga had ever met. And this cafe was blessed with two, though the other man was a polar opposite of the silent, serious Ieyasu Tokugawa.
As if thinking of him summoned him, the back door swung open and in swaggered Masamune. “Good morning!” His voice was loud and vibrant, as always. He never needed caffeine to feel awake - Masamune was naturally caffeinated.
“D’you have to be so loud?” Ieyasu glared.
“Do you have to be such a grouch?” Masamune raised his one eyebrow. His other eye was covered with a pirate-style eyepatch. The look wasn’t just for effect. He’d lost his left eye to a childhood illness, but that hadn’t dampened his spirit or enthusiasm.
Ieyasu held up a dough covered middle finger in response and went back to making croissants.
Masamune put a hand to his heart. “Such cruelty.”
“Stop bickering and start cooking.” Nobunaga tried to sound stern but couldn’t help the little smile on his lips.
The two of them did, though the grumbling and sniping never really stopped.
While Ieyasu handled bakery items, Masamune was in charge of the grill. Hot sandwiches, soups, and whatever else he decided to put on the menu. Nobunaga had given up trying to restrain him. The man was a genius cook, and whatever he made sold, so it made sense to give him his head.
Akechi showed up next. Mitsuhide was an accountant by trade, with a law degree besides. He didn’t technically work at the shop, but he did the books and didn’t charge much for the work. Nobunaga wasn’t sure why he spent so much time at the cafe, but he’d become a fixture. Showing up before opening to do Azuchi’s books and then sitting in the dining area, working on his laptop for hours.
“Anything I should know about,” Nobunaga called, before Mitsuhide disappeared into the cafe office.
“If there was, I’d tell you. Probably.” Mitsuhide gave him his trademark smile, sly like a fox.
“It’s that probably that worries me.” Nobunaga frowned. He didn’t actually believe Mitsuhide would sabotage him. Not after so many years as a client. But with that man, you never quite knew where you stood.
Akechi shrugged. “I can’t think of a reason not to - but you never know.” He disappeared into the office, and soon the only sound from that room was the clacking of a keyboard.
The sky to the east was beginning to lighten, the stars fading from view. It would be time to open soon. As if on cue, Mitsunari showed up with Ranmaru in tow. They were the baristas, taking orders, making coffee, and serving the sit-down diners.
“Isn’t it a beautiful morning?” Mitsunari said this to Ieyasu’s back as he passed him.
The blond snorted. “It looks like every morning. Literally, exactly the same.”
“And every morning is beautiful.” Mitsunari Ishida smiled. “I am so lucky to work with such wonderful people. It will be a great day. I can feel it.”
Ranmaru laughed. “Absolutely. Just ignore old grumble-pants here. We are going to have an awesome day.”
“I am not old,” Ieyasu snapped.
“You are compared to me!” Ranmaru was the youngest in the crew, and he liked to remind the others about it.
“That’s enough. Get up to the front and prep the display. Both of you.” Nobunaga pointed toward the front counter.
Ranmaru gave him a pouty look, but did as he was told. Despite his penchant for causing trouble in the kitchen, he was great with customers, and pretty reliable.
Mitsunari didn’t seem to realize he’d been in the middle of the bickering. He just smiled and followed Ranmaru to the front.
That one, Nobunaga thought, was dangerous. At first impression, Mitsunari Ishida seemed like an airhead. Cheerful to the point of being vapid, and clumsy as well. But he could take orders faster than anyone else, remember which customer had which preference, and quote the menu without a glance at the board on the wall. He was great, so long as you didn’t ask him to pour the coffee.
At opening, Hideyoshi finally sidled in. He was the dining room manager, in charge of the servers, and everything on the front end. Nobunaga trusted him implicitly. Most cafe owners had to worry about theft and inattention from their cash-handling employees, but not him. Not with Hideyoshi Toyotomi at the counter. That man was a veritable saint, if sometimes a little melodramatic about his service.
“I know you told me I didn’t need to be here until 10, since you open. But I couldn’t let you handle everything alone.” Hideyoshi’s version of ‘good morning’ as he tied his apron on.
Nobunaga sighed. “You are my closing manager, Hideyoshi. You’re going to be stuck here until 10 or 11 tonight . . . and you realize, I do have employees here, helping, right?”
Toyotomi nodded. “Sure, sure. But extra hands always help with morning rush, right?”
“Right. And that’s why I have a new hire coming in at 8.” Nobunaga sighed.
“A new hire?” Mitsunari’s violet gaze lit up. “Will I get to train them?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Ieyasu grumbled. “We want them to make coffee, not learn how to dump the pot on the floor.”
“Stop being so mean,” Ranmaru sniped back, defending Mitsunari.
“Hey, hey! The new employee isn’t gonna get trained by any of you. Clearly, the boss is going to put them with me. To pass on my culinary genius.” Masamune’s one eye sparkled.
“No, no, and absolutely not,” Nobunaga said, raising his voice. “Hideyoshi and I are going to train them. If the lot of you don’t terrify them into quitting on their first day.”
And that was the end of that discussion. It was 5am and the door opened. The steady stream of customers kept everyone busy for the next few hours. Lattes and cappuccinos, americanos and macchiatos, and decaf for those in denial. The flow began to slack as 8am approached. Most people were at work now, coffee in hand.
Clean-up started in the kitchen, and Hideyoshi began on the dining room.
The glass front door opened at 8am sharp. The new hire walked in. This wasn’t Nobunaga’s first time meeting her, but he still felt a twang in his chest as she smiled brightly at no one in particular.
“I hope I’m not late!”
Hideyoshi eyed her up and down, nodding to himself. Flat shoes, cute but practical. Hair pulled back sensibly - stylish, but not overdone. Professional clothes, fitted and comfortable. He hadn’t been part of the interview but he was feeling pretty positive about this candidate. He gave Nobunaga a nod.
“No, you’re right on time,” Mitsunari replied, leaning on the counter. His angelic smile was fixed on her.
The impact was obvious. One did not face the pure, focused joy of Mitsunari and not feel it. She blinked for a moment, stunned, her cheeks flushing. “Oh. Well that’s good, right?”
“Sure is,” Ranmaru said, coming around the side of the bakery display. He wiped his hands on his apron and held one out to her. “Welcome to Azuchi!”
“Hey, that’s my line,” Nobunaga grumbled.
“Yeah, but I’m cuter when I say it.” Ranmaru’s cheek reply got a chuckle from Masamune.
The one-eyed chef came out from the kitchen to observe. He wasn’t looking for whatever qualities Hideyoshi had, but what he saw made him grin. “Well, lass, I’d say welcome again but that’d make me look like an idiot. How ‘bout I help you put on an apron and show you around the place?”
“Again, my line,” Nobunaga said tiredly.
Ieyasu poked his head out from the back and sighed heavily. “Great. Another fluff head to train. Look, when you get bored listening to these idiots, come find me in the kitchen. I’ll try to teach you to bake. I’m sure you can manage a simple recipe. Probably.”
The girl looked unsure how to respond. She finally shrugged. “Yeah, ok! I’m here to work, so whatever you want to teach me, I want to learn.”
“You’d be better off learning how to keep the books,” said an amused voice behind Ieyasu.
The girl’s eyes darted up as Mitsuhide came out from the back. “Not that I’m hiring. I don’t do internships either,” he continued. He stepped out from behind the counter and closed in on her like a stalking cat. His golden eyes slid down from her face, over her chest and hips, down her legs, and back up, slow as syrup. “Though I can think of some reasons to make an exception.” He handed her a business card. “For when you tire of this service job.”
“Ah, thanks?” She glanced at the card and by the time she looked up again he was gone.
“Everyone, get back to work. I’m handling the new hire. You’ll all get a chance to train with her. I want her to work swing, so she’ll need to know a little of everything.” Nobunaga clapped once.
The workers all got back to it, though not without plenty of backward glances.
Hideyoshi handed the girl an apron. “Good luck!”
#ikemen sengoku#ikesen nobunaga#ikesen ranmaru#ikesen mitsuhide#ikesen mitsunari#ikesen masamune#ikesen ieyasu#coffee shop au#fanfiction#fanfic#otome guys#otome#fluff
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if the gaang were trapped in a time loop a la russian doll, what song would be playing when each of them “woke up” after a death
this question is super interesting, but also extremely challenging! for one, i can think of multiple songs that share the same compelling quality of harry nilsson’s “gotta get up” that also fits each character’s specific vibe; thus, whittling it down to just one song proves difficult. furthermore, one must consider the context in which each character would find themselves in a timeloop, and where they would be reviving to hear each specific piece of music. both nadia and alan (as well as the protagonist of groundhog day) hear their respective pieces of music signaling their regenerations diegetically, which means the gaang would all have to be placed in a context where that music would be actually playing (obviously, then, these would all be modern AUs). which is all to say, there’s a lot to consider when constructing a time loop narrative (not only in terms of the physics & continuity, but also how it serves the narrative, and its thematic significance to the character(s)—which is why this plot device works so well in russian doll) ...and im gonna try my hardest to ignore all of that and just go with my gut because im already overthinking this way too much!! (but also, if anyone wants me to expand on any one of these choices, i’d be glad to do so)
aang: for some reason johnny b. goode by chuck berry just feels right (though i was also deliberating between some doowop classics ngl—it’s the vibes, i can’t even explain it).
katara: i ultimately settled on selling candy by ohmme because i like how it feels dynamic and a bit discordant from the get-go, which fits for a character as active and spontaneous as katara.
sokka: bunsen burner (yes, from the ex machina soundtrack) feels fitting for him, especially because I think out of everyone he’d be most existentially terrified by the prospect of a timeloop, and the piece has a very eery quality to it. but i also enjoy the implications of this piece being diegetic, because it means that this is the kind of music he listens to for fun.
toph: i think she deserves the honor of being bestowed told you id be with the guys by cherry glazerr, which matches her cool, raucous intensity nicely imo.
suki: getting real gimme gimme gimme (a man after midnight) by ABBA vibes for her (because she’s just that cool).
zuko: I simply must go with washing machine heart by mitski because it is such a fundamentally zuko song, and if anyone deserves to listen to it in an infinitely regenerating cycle of deaths, it’s him.
ty lee: cruel by st vincent has a certain quality to it that i’ve been obsessed with since i first heard it, and i think it fits with ty lee’s inscrutable facade as well as her inner desperation.
azula: at last by etta james, while beautiful and distinctly classy, could definitely sound horrifying, even taunting, in certain situations, which I think works well for whatever hellish timeloop azula would find herself trapped in!
mai: i think gymnopedie (no. 1) by erik satie would work well for mai because it’s such an iconic piece of music, simultaneously gentle and heartrendingly evocative, even nostalgic—definitely the kind of piece that would fuck with your mind if you “woke up” hearing it every time you died.
#gaynormanjayden#AUs#ish#asks#the gaang and#synthesis#whew!!!!#this was fucking HARD ok#I went w my gut here#bc. asking me abt russian doll atla & music i like#that is simply so many things#too many things even#how am I NOT supposed to overthink it?!?!??#atlamusic
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you’re somebody else | din x reader
A/N: ahahaha i couldn’t stop getting drawn to this prompt on the list, and since it hasn’t been requested yet i wrote it for me. 💀💀 i’m actually really happy with how this turned out too. 😳
after writing this, the tone/vibe reminded me of a short story i read in my fear and fiction class in high school called Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been? by Joyce Carol Oates which was basically a psychological horror that i want to spoil nothing of, so i implore y’all to read it because i’ve linked a pdf here. 🙏😈
(title is flora cash’s song of the same name which i listened to repeatedly while writing this fic.)
hope you enjoy! 💗
prompt: 10. “who have you become? i don’t know you anymore.”
content: this just might be the darkest thing i’ve ever written, dark!din, haunted!din, tbh the darksaber is a warning all on it’s own, gn!reader, depression, very bad mental spiral (that’s made worse by a semi-supernatural force), implied that din verbally lashes out at reader, kinda a character study, implied Very Bad Things enacted by din 😬
word count: 936
At first, it started slow.
Din passed Grogu over to the Jedi, teary-eyed and breaking, and watched as the elevator doors slid shut like eyelids closing when all the life’s been drawn from the body. The helmet went back on and the mask did too, but no one said anything about that then, not while Cara and Fennec shared smirks at a job well done, not while Bo-Katan silently yearned for the Darksaber in Din’s hand.
Grief took hold next. It filled Din like water poured into a pitcher, until he was only hours of quiet weeping, long sleepless nights, and louder stretches of screaming and punching that left him with a raw throat and gashes on his knuckles. Grief replaced everything then, it replaced time, food, rest, and everything that was Din.
You took the brunt of what was left of Din in the months directly after, painfully accepted everything the angry, broken, sad Mandalorian threw at you by always responding with an “It’s okay, Din” or a “You didn’t mean it”. You rolled with the punches as they landed, told yourself to be patient and considerate, reasoned that Din was hurt, and hurt people hurt people.
In those early months, the sting of Din’s vitriolic words would fade easily, like lemon juice on parchment, which didn’t really make it okay, but it was bearable. Forgivable.
But those were the early months.
In retrospect, you blame two major players for what happened:
One, yourself. You had every single opportunity to stop it while you were ahead, but you were either too unobservant or ignorant to see what was really happening, or (if you’re kinder to yourself) you were also grieving so maybe it wasn’t all too much of a surprise to miss a few things when your heart was also trampled on the floor. And as much as everyone else tells you “It wasn’t your fault” and “No one saw it coming”, you know damn well the red flags were waved in your face time and time again.
It makes you angry, it makes you guilty, it makes you weep.
It all comes down to the second variable:
The Darksaber. It was never a good thing. It was always some ancient evil, fueled by all the blood it’s shed and all the lives it’s taken, masked by the façade (lie) that it made warriors into kings, made verd into Mand’alor. It spoke the tongue of a wronged, hurting people, because there is no other way to ensure absolute control quite like telling white lies and half-truths in all the anger of a Mandalorian.
So it laid it’s seeds in Din the moment it passed from Moff Gideon’s hand.
You didn’t notice then, but Din’s hand held the Darksaber tighter than any of his other weapons.
Months after Grogu is when you started explaining away the shift in Din, how he became different. You excused his gloominess for melancholy. (Din would get this faraway look in his eyes, like he was remembering something terrible.) Told yourself it was part of the healing process that he was angrier, it just made him more... violent than he’d normally be on hunts. (Din beat his bounties to gurgling, bloody pulps.) You would pretend to sleep when he sat awake at night for hours at end just listening to him speak in low Mando’a. (Din was speaking to the Darksaber. It would speak back.)
“Din isn’t dark”, you’d convince yourself when you knew he had done or said something cruel, something heinous, “He’s just upset”.
And it’s true, Din was upset. But not like you thought he was.
It all came crashing down one night, when you started to feel like you could recognize Din anymore.
He was soaked in blood, splattered with it like a child’s painting across his cuirass, his hands completely crimson. (”Din, what happened?”)
The helmet spoke to you first, then it was lifted to reveal a face you that wasn’t his face, not anymore, because that face looked pleased with the murderous handiwork, and those lips spoke your name in an unfamiliar voice, and oh my Maker, Din, the smile didn’t reach your eyes.
They weren’t his anymore.
“Who have you become?” You ask, voice trembling and you can’t stop the cold shiver that goes up your spine, or how your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach, and it makes you focus on the queasiness there and the metallic tang of blood. Din doesn’t say anything, but he gets that faraway look on his face, somehow both coldly distant and shockingly precise, and it terrifies you more than anything ever has. The world stops, Din stares, the Darksaber rests in his hand.
“Cyare, I don’t know what you mean.” He replies and it’s not Din’s voice you hear. It’s lost the gentle timbre, no longer rumbles from his throat like rhythmic white cap waves to a shoreline, no longer the voice that you would hear in loving secrecy, when it was you and Din beneath the sheets, when the night was your sanctuary. No, you no longer hear Din’s voice.
“... I don’t know you anymore.” The whisper hangs in the air like a body from a tree, all dreadful and sickening. The room constricts and falls away, the walls crumbling to the black void of shadows that line the corners and curves of the stranger you once knew, the lover you’ve lost like a childhood toy to the wilderness.
“I don’t know you anymore.” You repeat, staring at the man in front of you, oh what is his name?
What is his name?
#star wars#the mandalorian#star wars din djarin#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#writing prompts#angst prompts#would it be embarrassing if i drew fanart for this?#my own fan fanfiction?? 💀💀#because i realllyyyy want to
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