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therealvinelle · 3 years

Note

I know this is like taking a bat to the beehive but... I really wanna hear your opinions on the whole... Imprinting thing

(Note before we go any further: this meta is written purely about the shapeshifting aspect of the Quileute characters, I don’t at all get into the racism in Twilight or any kind of social commentary. This is a purely watsonian meta. Others in this fandom have already addressed the racial dynamics at play, far more eloquently and knowledgeably than me. If I say something in here that’s in any way offensive, that’s not my intention and I’m open to criticism.)

Ooh imprinting.

I touch upon it here, basically I hate it.

The imprinting is part of this theme where the shapeshifters lose their free will and autonomy, and I find it tragic, cruel, and unnecessary.

First of, the fact that they have to phase at all.

They’re made warriors to protect their tribe. There’s no choice involved, only genetics and magic irrevocably changing their lives, and at a ridiculously young age, too. Sam is the oldest of them, and he is 19.

Violence is an inherent part of what they become. Their purpose is to protect the tribe, by fighting vampires. Not only is this insanely dangerous (we see Jake get so injured by a single vampire that he’s bedridden for weeks), but if they succeed, they will have killed. In the singularly brutal manner of tearing apart and burning someone who looks a lot like a human, who talks and might beg for their life, at that. And I remind you, most of these shapeshifters are literal children. They might not see vampires as people, but all the same, killing one can’t be good for their mental wellbeing. (Thought: Perhaps an argument can be made for Laurent’s death having a part in the turn Jake’s personality took? Some, though not many, of the symptoms for PTSD do fit. I don’t know enough about PTSD to pursue this train of thought, but it occurred to me just now, in particular he becomes quite aggressive and prone to outbursts after that incident, so into a parenthesis it goes)

Not to mention how inhumane that responsibility is. Vampires in the Twilight-verse are terrifying, and the shapeshifters might have the power to fight them. But (and this is where I plug one of my all-time favorite animes, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, as it asks the question “Is it okay to sacrifice yourself for others?” because that’s... well there’s a parallel to be made to the shapeshifters. It’s on Netflix!) does that mean they should? Is it really their responsibility? Again- they’re kids!

Then there’s the time Sam lost control, and accidentally mauled the girl he loved. And it’s so cruel to both him and Emily. Sam never chose to have to control himself in the first place, he never chose shapeshifting. He didn’t choose to imprint on Emily either, and he didn’t choose to lose control that day. At no point in the series of events that led to Emily being mauled did Sam have any real choice, and yet he will shoulder the guilt for what happened for the rest of his life.

These kids get superpowers, and several of them seem to enjoy being shapeshifters, but the fact remains that they now carry this huge responsibility to protect their families and homes, doing so is incredibly dangerous, they lose out on their regular lives, and they can’t opt out of it.

This all sucks, but then we get to the fact that they are deprived of their free will, as their alpha can issue an order they physically can’t break. The alpha becomes alpha because of bloodlines, not because of a democratic election. Jake got a mockery of a choice in that he could choose to become alpha himself, or let Sam continue, which was really just choosing between a rock and a hard place. There is no limitation to what this order can be, from “don’t say X to person Y” to “let’s kill someone you love”. Jake has to struggle to break that last one, and he’s only successful because of the bloodline thing letting him become his own alpha.

Oh, and there’s the massive invasion of privacy when they have a hive mind. Cool concept, less cool to have it be reality. Leah is the poster child for how a hive mind can backfire, and they can’t opt out of this.

I’m not good at gifs, but the shapeshifters just make me think of that gif of someone flicking a lightswitch on and off, “WELCOME TO HELL!”. Of course, Twilight in general is a pit of despair for everybody, so I suppose that gif really is... well it sums up all of canon.

So, we have these kids aged 19 or younger, as of Breaking Dawn they skew as young as thirteen, their lives are turned upside down by something they can’t opt out of, they must shoulder this huge responsibility to protect their homes and families from the terrifying threat of vampires, and on top of all of that, they must obey orders that are so irresistible, they can compel them to harm someone they care for.

With all of that in mind, you’d think that the shapeshifters had enough on their plate. That through all of this they would at least retain their selves, and be able to look forward to a future where they could stop phasing, and go on to live normal, human, lives.

Yeah, NOT IF THEY IMPRINT.

I’ll just quote Jake’s description:

Everything inside me came undone as I stared at the tiny porcelain face of the halfvampire, half-human baby. All the lines that held me to my life were sliced apart in swift cuts, like clipping the strings to a bunch of balloons. Everything that made me who I was—my love for the dead girl upstairs, my love for my father, my loyalty to my new pack, the love for my other brothers, my hatred for my enemies, my home, my name, my self—disconnected from me in that second—snip, snip, snip—and floated up into space.

I was not left drifting. A new string held me where I was.

Not one string, but a million. Not strings, but steel cables. A million steel cables all tying me to one thing—to the very center of the universe.

I could see that now—how the universe swirled around this one point. I’d never seen the symmetry of the universe before, but now it was plain.

The gravity of the earth no longer tied me to the place where I stood. (Breaking Dawn, page 237)

Everything that made me who I was disconnected from me.

Jake’s love for his father, his home, his very own self, it’s all gone now. And while I have thoughts on the authenticity of this imprint, whether it was organic, the description above is apparently how imprinting feels. It’s along the lines of what Sam, Jared, and Paul all describe.

I don’t think I can put into words just how devastating I find imprinting, I think the above quotation speaks for itself. And as with all other shapeshifter things, there is no choice involved.

We see its devastating effects in the Emily, Sam, and Leah debacle. Sam and Leah were serious together, so much so that they were engaged. Sam had fallen for and chosen to be with Leah. Perhaps they would have broken up eventually, but Leah was still the choice he made. Then he imprints on Emily, and all that is for naught. He had to break up with Leah, who if she hadn’t phased never would have learned why, Emily and Leah’s relationship is ruined, and Emily must forever live with the knowledge that if Sam had his free will intact he would be with another woman.

Then there’s Jared and Kim. Kim crushed on Jared, but Jared never noticed her. The fact that they were in the same class is damning: if a boy is attracted to a girl, he's gonna notice her. Jared never did.

Quil imprints on Claire, who is a toddler. That’s just a recipe for misery and disaster all around.

And I’ve only touched the shapeshifter side of things. They lose their autonomy and freedom, but the imprintées draw the short straw too. They’re now responsible for this other person’s happiness. Sure, having someone who’ll be whatever you need them to be sounds nice (well, it sounds horrifying, but I’m playing ball) on paper, but you can’t opt out of them being like that. The imprintée can’t say “Sorry, not interested,” and she certainly can’t shut the imprinter out of her life, not without irrevocably ruining the imprinter’s life. The imprinter needs her. She’s the center of his earth now, but she didn’t choose to be.

Imprinting is a liferuiner for everyone involved.

Then we have the question of what imprinting is even for. I’m afraid I agree with Billy, that it’s for procreation. We see Sam, who was dating a woman about to phase (even if Leah isn’t infertile, she’s a warrior now. She can’t run in the woods and fight vampires, and gestate and nurse a child at the same time) conveniently imprint on her cousin, who as cousin to Leah is from a shifter bloodline. Claire, as Emily’s cousin, has those same genetics. Paul imprints on a woman from the Black family line. Jake is the outlier, but either Renesmée’s gift helped that imprinting along, or he imprinted because of the offspring they could potentially have (I firmly believe it’s the former because the latter... NOPE. Also, I can’t imagine whatever magic drives imprinting would want vampiric progeny for the future generations. Regardless of Renesmée’s person, her biology is wired to desire human blood. That’s exactly what Jake is supposed to protect people from. Bad match.).

I just.... ughhh. God, I hate imprinting so much, and on every level.

To me, everything about the shapeshifters is about free will, autonomy, and the loss thereof. And it would have been beautiful if their story was about reclaiming that, but it isn’t. None of this, with the exception of the alpha orders, is even acknowledged.

So, in summation, yes I hate imprinting, but it’s only the horror cherry on top of a very sad and problematic cake.

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ragewerthers · 3 years

Text

To Defeat A Dragon

Summary: With the 100 year war behind them and the battles now lying more in the council room then on the battlefield, Sokka and Zuko take a moment to reminisce over the last few years.

However, reminiscing comes with a few surprises for Zuko when he forgets something rather important about the spars he used to have with Sokka. But no worries... Sokka is more than happy to remind him.

A/n: Hello and Merry christmas, my friend!!! I am the secret santa for @calmturquoise for the Squealing Santa 2020! Thank you for giving me the chance to write something so sweet for these two and getting to join in on the fun of ATLA again!

I also want to thank @ticklygiggles for hosting this event again! You're amazing and I’m so happy I got to participate in this once more!

The prompt was for some sweet, platonic Sokka and Zuko and I was so excited to get the chance to write these two!!!

You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28308495

Enjoy! :)

Word Count: 2941

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

“I think they’re deliberately starting to make those Council meetings longer,” Zuko grumbled, shifting uncomfortably where he now rested. Currently, he was sat at the edge of the small turtleduck pond in the middle of the royal gardens. Attempting to alleviate the ache in his back he went to sit up a little straighter. The result was his back cracking in a way that was probably unhealthy for someone who was only twenty-three, but really he should’ve known this would be par for the course. Growing up a child warrior really isn’t kind to the bones in the long run. Wincing at the dull ache it left behind it wasn’t enough to distract him from the snort of his less than empathetic friend.

“No, buddy. You’re just finally starting to become the cranky old man you always were inside,” Sokka teased, practically laying beside Zuko as he reclined back on his elbows… before promptly collapsing next to the Firelord with a yelp. A charlie ostrihorse had aggressively decided to seize the muscles in his shoulders and neck and all he could do was roll around in the grass like a crazy person. Apparently, Zuko wasn’t the only one starting to feel the effects of those long meetings.

Zuko instantly smirked at the reaction, happy to see Sokka getting a taste of the elderly lifestyle they now lived in apparently.

“First of all, you deserve all of what’s happening to you right now,” Zuko said, waving his hand in the direction of Sokka’s prone form. “Second of all, what do you mean cranky?! I’m a ray of sunshine.”

The words were spoken so deadpan that Sokka instantly snorted with a bit of pained laughter, still clutching the side of his neck as he lay on the ground. “Don’t d-do thahat! Can’t you s-see I’m hurting?!” he whined, though his smile still remained as he looked over at his best friend. “But yes… how could I forget, oh great Firelord, that the sun is literally supposed to shine out of your butt?”

Zuko finally broke into a more open smile, sitting up a little straighter and nodding. “And don’t you forget it,” he joked, getting another ridiculous giggle from Sokka.

After a few more minutes, the pain finally seemed to subside as the water tribesman was able to sit up with a wince. Rolling his shoulder a bit to try and work out the last of the kink he couldn’t stop himself from letting out an almost wistful sigh. “But isn’t it a bit sad? I didn’t think it was possible to get aches and pains from just sitting! Remember the good old days of our youth when we could spar for hours and hours and we wouldn’t even be phased?”

“What do you mean ‘the good old days of our youth’? You’re only a year younger than me,” Zuko said with a little roll of his eyes as he began to remove his crown. With no further meetings scheduled for the day he figured he might as well be comfortable. Setting it beside himself on the grass he settled back against the tree, ignoring the look Sokka was giving him.

“Hey! We’re older than we were back then, right? So… those are the days of our youth! And you ignored the question,” he huffed.

“Oh… you were actually looking for an answer to your ramblings?” Zuko teased, a small smile fighting to quirk up the corners of his lips as he tried to ignore Sokka puffing his cheeks up like a toddler. Oh yeah… the man obviously had matured so much since those days. “Okay, okay. I do remember. I still consider myself proficient with the dual dao, but I think you’re right. With sitting most of our days away, I’m sure it hasn’t done our skills any favors.”

Sokka’s pout instantly retreated, replaced with a light smile as Zuko agreed with him. “Right? Not to mention that it was always super satisfying every time I won which, I mean, was almost always after our first few spars,” he said smugly, causing the Firelord to instantly focus on him.

“I’m sorry… what?” Zuko asked, his eyes narrowed and voice almost dangerously low.

Sadly, enough time and shared moments between them meant that Sokka no longer feared the ‘fire scowl’. Instead, his smug smile only grew. “You heard me. You may have handed my ass to me the first few times we spared, but after that I almost never lost another fight against you.”

“.... did that cramp do something to your memory?” Zuko wondered aloud. “It must’ve because if memory serves, you almost never won against me. You came close a number of times, but I was almost always the victor.”

However, regardless of how insistent his statement, that smug smile still remained on Sokka’s face as the Southern Water Tribesman sat up beside his friend. “Nope. I’m afraid old age has started to rust up those memories of yours, Sifu Hotman. I won almost all of our spars and I can’t believe you’ve forgotten.”

“......... did you drink one of Uncle’s experimental teas again? You know he almost killed himself doing that once!” Zuko warned, because that was the only way that Sokka could possibly think that he had won so many of their duels.

But something akin to worry grew in Zuko’s chest when he saw Sokka’s smile turning from smug to something a little more dangerous.

“Oh my dear Jerkbender. I think you’ve forgotten that while you may have had the upperhand most of the time when we were dueling, I found out a secret move. Because I remembered a universal truth about dragons.”

Oh yeah… Sokka definitely drank the experimental teas. He’d warned uncle that cactus juice wasn’t to be messed with!

Zuko quirked an eyebrow at the comment before closing his eyes to calm his temper. Taking in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, he turned once more to look at his friend. “Okay, buddy. Let’s get you to the healers,” he began gently, carefully reaching forward to rest his hand on Sokka’s shoulder. “I think they have a remedy for thi-HIHIS?!”

Immediately his arm moved back from Sokka to cover his side as an electric feeling zipped through his veins.

Sokka was only just keeping himself from laughing beside him, his fingers still poised from where they’d managed a small nibbling pinch against the Firelord's lower ribs. “The thing about dragons…,” Sokka continued, ignoring Zuko’s insistence on getting him medical attention. “... is that all of them have a soft spot. Once you find it… you can defeat it. And I was lucky enough to find a dragon with more weak spots then most.”

Suddenly Zuko remembered almost every one of his spars with Sokka… and with it the memory of an evil, horrible truth. Sokka had indeed won most of their spars after the first few. Because that cheating dunderhead had accidentally found out that Zuko… was horrendously ticklish.

And judging from the look Sokka was leveling him with his friend was looking to make sure he definitely remembered this little fact.

“S-Sokka! Sokka, listen to me… don’t you da-AH!” he shouted, rolling away just in time as Sokka attempted to tackle him into the grass. Quickly, Zuko managed to get up onto his knees, trying to get his feet underneath him to stand, but fate decided to deal him a cruel hand once more. His Fire nation robes for all the brilliance and regality they offered him to onlookers were far from practical. Long and flowing silks were seen as traditional and although he’d made many reforms in his time already on the throne, fashion hadn’t quite made it to the table yet. Thus, as he attempted to flee from his friend, his feet only managed to step on the front of his robes, stopping his movements and pausing him just long enough to land himself in Sokka’s clutches.

Before he knew it, two strong arms were already locked around his waist and Zuko attempted to use his words once more to try and plead his case for freedom.

Of course… when had that ever played out in his favor? “Sokka! S-Sokka, I remember, okay? You…. y-you don’t have to do this!” Zuko attempted to sound reasonable and less nervous then he felt, though he realized stuttering over his words lost a little bit of that authoritative tone he was aiming for.

“Oh, I realize I don’t have to do this,” Sokka teased, crooking the fingers of his left hand to press in just a little bit more against Zuko’s side making the young Firelord gasp and bite his lower lip to stay quiet. “But at this point I feel it is my duty to remind Lord Jerkbender about this so he doesn’t forget who the number one spar master is.”

“Spar master isn’t even a thing! You can’t just give yourself titles like th-ahahat! Ah! Nonono!” Zuko’s small diatribe instantly died on his lips as Sokka’s fingers began to wriggle against his side, a few rather unbecoming giggles already breaking free before he reined himself in again.

“What was that? Were you backsassing Sokka the mighty dragon slayer?!” Sokka teased, though he couldn’t help smiling as he already heard the familiar rasp of Zuko’s laughter. This was going to be far too entertaining. How could he pass up this opportunity?

“Dragon slayer?! You’re ridiculous! Let me gohohoahahaha! Stahp it! Stahahahap!” Zuko felt the flutter of Sokka’s other hand where it rested against his lower ribs on the opposite side. Immediately the jolt of ticklish sensations raced through him and he felt his knees already starting to turn to jelly beneath him. Of all of the things he could be weak against, something as silly as tickling was more than enough to sap his strength. Sokka’s smirk came back as he heard that, his fingers, scribbling lightly over both the Firelord’s sides. Working in tandem his fingers lightly brushed along the vulnerable area before massaging quickly into his lower ribs. If memory served, this had been one of the better weak spots of this particular dragon.

“WAHAIT!” Zuko cried out, his laughter finally breaking free from those raspy giggles to something lighter and more carefree. Honestly, it was something Sokka had been so proud to draw out all those years ago when Zuko was still that broody teenager who had joined their gaang. He had been so awkward and to be fair, their dear jerkbender still kinda was, but after attempting through sheer bullheadedness to forge a friendship with him, Sokka honestly couldn’t have been prouder to call him his best friend.

And what kind of best friend would he be if he didn’t tease and taunt Zuko into never forgetting his super awesome new title that he just came up with? A terrible one… and Sokka refused to be a terrible friend.

“Wait? Wait for what? Oh! Were you going to finally call me by my proper title?” Sokka teased as he moved one of his hands down to squeeze along Zuko’s right hip.

Zuko instantly jumped at the sensation, feeling his legs finally starting to cave under him as he attempted to curl up in Sokka’s hold to escape the sensations. He could feel his cheeks and ears heating up as his laugh bubbled up unbidden, the noise still slightly foreign to him even after all these years. However, Sokka had never seemed to have a problem drawing it out of him. He just wished he had remembered that before drawing out the ‘dragon slayer’ once more.

“Nehehehever!” Zuko growled out between his laughter, his hands weakly attempting to push away Sokka’s to no avail. “Ihihit’s a… a stuhupid naha-EHEHEHE! STAHAHP IT Y-YOU AHAHAHASS!” Zuko’s strength finally gave out as his legs buckled beneath him, though with Sokka’s arms around him he was easily lowered to the ground. Sadly this did nothing for his current situation as Sokka had seemed to remember another one of his worst spots.

His stomach.

“Doth my ears deceive me? Did you just call my regal and totally awesome title stupid?! How dare you, good sir!” Sokka teased, his arm braced carefully around Zuko as his other vibrated quickly right against the center of Zuko’s stomach. He’d learned very early on that the easiest way to break Zuko’s concentration and resolve was a nice little attack on this particular area. “You know how to get this to stop, Zuko! Admit that I am the best dragon slayer in the world!”

Zuko snorted as Sokka’s hand began to scribble all around the hyper ticklish spot, trying to shimmy this way and that out of the man's hold to get away from the maddening touch. However, practically sitting on the ground with a tickle monster clung to your back really didn’t leave much wiggle room and Zuko realized his chances of freedom were slim. But his pride just wouldn’t allow for him to admit defeat just yet!

“Thahahaha’ts not e-even a thihihing! I re-refuhuhuse to gihihive in t-to yo-AHAHA! STAHP IT! STAHPSTAHPSTAHAHAHAP!” Zuko instantly broke into the most wild and ridiculous laughter as Sokka snuck one of his hands under his arm, his fingers spidering quickly against Zuko’s underarm in a way that drove the firebender crazy with ticklish laughter. Zuko instantly snapped his arms to his sides, trapping Sokka’s hand against his armpit while the man's other hand continued to scribble and send nibbling pinches all along his stomach.

“Admit it! Admit that I’m the best!” Sokka called over Zuko’s loud laughter, the sound of it making him smile like an idiot even as a few chuckles escaped him. Spirits, it really had been far too long since he’d seen Zuko let loose like this even just a bit. Maybe this was something they needed in their lives a bit more? It definitely wouldn’t hurt after all the droll and intense meetings they were forced to go to day in and day out.

Meanwhile, Zuko was dying. The Kiyoshi warriors were going to show up here to see that their poor Firelord had met his end at the hands of a ridiculous man who had a pension for coming up with truly terrible titles for things! Sadly he couldn’t dwell on his dramatic end as Sokka’s fingers were still attacking two of his worst spots. Zuko knew that there really was only one way out of this. “OKAHAHAY! O-OKAY I AHAHADMIT IHIHIT!” Zuko cried out with unrestrained laughter, feeling the tickling slowing down just a little to keep him giggling ridiculously.

“What was that? Are you trying to tell me something, buddy?” Sokka teased, his fingers wriggling lightly against Zuko’s armpit as the other hand focused on a particularly sensitive spot on the side of the firebenders stomach.

Zuko snorted and kicked his legs out weakly before nodding. “Y-yes! You… you’re the behehehest gah! Not thehehere! Not there plehehease! Agnihihi why-hehehe?!” Zuko giggled hysterically as Sokka found that spot on his stomach. Taking as deep a breath as possible he tried to once more to make his bid for freedom! “Y-You’re the behehehest drahagon slahahahayer! Plehehehase!”

Sokka’s fingers immediately stopped their torment, chuckling a bit to himself. “See? That wasn’t so hard was it?” he teased, patting Zuko’s back as he helped the man sit up, watching the firebender wiping away tears of mirth from his eyes as residual giggles still managed to escape.

“Yes. Y-yes it was,” Zuko shot back, though as he turned to look at his friend, the smile on his face was more relaxed, even after the mini battle he’d just had to endure. “I can’t believe I… forgot what a… giant pain in the ass you were after you figured that out.”

It was Sokka’s turn to laugh as he heard that and he felt his smile growing all the more fond. “It was probably one of my greatest discoveries and I will cherish it forever! Not many people can say they bested the Firelord,” Sokka teased, lightly nudging Zuko with his elbow and getting a chuckle in response.

“That’s fair. But really? Dragon slayer?” Zuko asked, trying to earn back a bit of dignity as he attempted to straighten out his traitorous robes.

“What? It makes me sound so cool!” Sokka cried out dramatically, making it incredibly hard for Zuko not to roll his eyes.

“I’m still not convinced you didn’t try one of uncle’s teas,” Zuko murmured, though he smiled regardless. “And I hope you know that this is the last time the mighty ‘dragon slayer’ is going to win. I won’t be caught with my guard down like that again.”

“Oh? Is that a challenge, Jerkbender?” Sokka teased, leaning closer and wiggling his fingers threateningly.

Zuko couldn’t suppress a snort of laughter as he pushed Sokka’s face away gently with his palm. “I’m too old for your nonsense,” he joked, making Sokka laugh brightly.

“Nah. We’re still young at heart. That’s all that matters,” Sokka said with a fond smile. “And if you ever forget that as well, I’m more than happy to remind you again about the days of our youth.”

Shaking his head, but with a fond smile on his lips, Zuko couldn’t help feeling that familiar warmth build in his chest. The world may be changing. They may still be working to right the wrongs and suffer through countless meetings and council members, but… with friends like Sokka there to remind him it was okay to let loose, laugh and remember that they really were still young at heart, he knew he could face anything.

Even dragon slayers.

#squealingsanta2k20 #tickle fic #my fics #zuko #sokka #atla #fluff #these two are precious #I hope you enjoy this my friend!

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hichi842 · 3 years

Note

May I please has Todoroki, Bakugo, and maybe Iida with an S/O who's a well known vigilante and they (the boys) are just now finding out that this vigilante and their s/o are the same person? bonus points if it gets angsty. thank you bb Ily ~💕

(A/n): I’m not good at writing angst, but I tried to sprinkle some in there for you darling. Hope you enjoy!💚

Pairings: Todoroki, Bakugo, Iida x reader

Warnings⚠️: Slight angst

Finding Out Their S/o is a Vigilante

Shoto Todoroki

Shoto heard about the famous vigilante from his father, since he was trying to track the person down.

Apparently the vigilante were pretty well known around the hero community for taking care of quite a few villains, but they were still using their quirk illegally so the heroes had to get whoever it may be.

Honestly Shoto didn’t really mind vigilantes. He knew what they were doing was illegal, but weren’t they just doing the same things as heroes.

Though as day by day went by, the vigilante continued to slip from heroes grasp and Shoto’s father grew more frustrated.

The man started ranting at the dinner table about the culprit. Shoto barely listened until he heard his father say something.

Endevour began to explain the person’s quirk and oh boy did it sound all too familiar to Shoto.

His S/o. The love of his life, had the same exact quirk that his father was describing.

At that moment, everything came back the boy. You’re struggle of not being able to get into UA. Trying your best to improve in hopes of becoming a hero, but ultimately giving up.

Was this what you have been doing all this time? Fighting villains illegally because you couldn’t get into a hero school.

He stood up abruptly and made his way to the door, earning a few protests from his father, but he was already out the door.

Shoto immediately went to your place. He needed to know if this unknown person was you.

As soon as he arrived, he knocked on the door and you answered quickly.

“Hey Sho. What’s up?”

“What do you do when I’m not with you?” Was all he asked.

You seemed pretty weirded out by the question and just told him that you do normal things like studying and whatnot.

Shoto shook his head. “No. Why are you out fighting dangerous villains with no lisense?” He got straight to the point.

You looked shocked. How did he figure it out?

Shoto could immediately tell the answer by your expression. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He said.

That’s when you teared up and soon they pooled over and down your cheeks. Shoto did not expect that, so he ushered you into the place, sat you down on the couch, and wrapped his arms around you.

You started apologizing, telling him that you just felt so insignificant to him and that you wanted desperately to be a hero.

He ran you fingers through your hair as you continued to explain. “(Y/n) I’m not mad. I just wish you told me. What you’re doing is so dangerous and I just want you to be safe.”

He continued. “Listen, I don’t want to stop you, but let’s figure out a way we can do this without putting your life in danger, okay?”

You nodded your head and gave him a loving kiss. “Okay.”

Katsuki Bakugo

It wasn’t hard for him to connect the peices together.

You would randomly disappear on him and wouldn’t come back for hours. And when you did come back, there were sudden wounds all over your body and you refused to answer any of his questions.

Katsuki had also noted the fact that you seemed to get physically stronger. Were you training or something?

He was starting to get frustrated on what you were keeping to yourself and more importantly, he was a bit worried.

He would never admit it, but whatever you were doing was hurting you and he didn’t like it at all.

Then one night, he was watching TV and a news station started talking of an unknown vilgilante.

They named places they have been fighting at and other things about those cases and immediately Bakugo noticed that these are similar to your weird disappearances.

So he started tracking when you would leave mysteriously and what time you came back, as well as any injuries you obtain. Then he compared them to the vigilantes movements.

And wouldn’t you beleive it, Everyhting matched up perfectly. Every single time you left, another villain was tooken down, and every injury you got matched up to the fight that would be described on the news.

He was furious, he didn’t give a shit about the fact that you fighting villains, but he hated that you hid this the entire time from him.

He waited for you to get back and then confronted you on the issue, raising his voice immediately.

“What the fuck have you been doing on these stupid trips (Y/n)?!” He already knew the answer though.

You tried stuttered out a random excuse, but he’s taking none of it.

He smacked the note book with all the tracking he did in your hands. “Oh yeah? Then what’s this, did you think it was a good idea to go out and fight villains on your own like some idiot!”

Youtried to answer but couldn’t even get a word in as he continued yelling about how idiotic this is and how you should have told him.

You weren’t one to get angry too often, but this was pissing you off, he wasn’t even letting you explain yourself.

“God Katsuki, can you shut up! Yes, I’ve been doing this and I’m sorry, but I needed to! What do you want from me?!” It was turning into a full blown fight at this point.

“I want you to tell me when you’re going out and putting your dumbass in danger! Goddamit, I was worried!!!” He yelled, before pulling you into his embrace. He seemed on the verge of tears, which silenced you since Katsuki never really cried.

“Just stop fucking hiding things from me.”

Tenya Iida

It was supposed to be a date night, but you ended up cancelling on your boyfriend.

He was definitely not happy about it since he expected you to be able to go. He was asking what you were doing, but you just said that your parents needed you help with something, so he let it go quickly.

Even if you weren’t able to go, Tenya still decided to at least go to a park nearby to take a walk by himself.

It was pretty peaceful and he was enjoying himself until he heard commotion about a block away.

He rushed there immediately to see a villain in the street. There was a person fighting it as well and at first, he thought it was a pro hero and was about to leave it to them.

Though for a spilt second, he got a closer look at the face of the fighter and recognized it immediately. It was you, his S/o.

What were you doing? You didn’t have a basic education in being a hero, so why were you fighting? And how were you doing so well?

Tenya was about to run and get you away from the danger, he was extremely worried about you getting injured, but before he could even move, you had knocked out the villain.

You sprinted to an alleyway to hide for when the actual heroes came. You didn’t want to be caught after all.

Tenya of course, followed you into the alleyway and called out to you. You froze and turned around.

“O-oh, hey. W-what are you doing here?” You asked awkwardly.

“What were you just doing (Y/n)? You know that fighting villains is the pro heroes job, so why were you fighting them?” He was trying to get straight to the point.

You tried to come up with an excuse. You couldn’t tell him that you have been doing this for awhile.

“Have you done this before? I demand you explain to me what has been happening.” He said in his stern voice.

You knew you weren’t going to be able to get out of this, so you just fessed up. Telling the boy about your need to fight villains and save people and how you became a vigilante.

He seemed to get frustrated with you. He lectured you about how dangerous this is and that you shouldn’t have been doing this since you’re not a hero. “This is illegal, do you understand that.”

You were increasingly getting irritated as well. “Stop talking to me like I’m a child Tenya. Of course I know, but I need to do this. Plus you’re not one to talk, you literally tried to kill someone in revenge for your brother!”

You knew you hit a rough spot for him, but you were just so angry that he wasn’t understanding you. He was trying to say something, but you knew he was just going to scold you like a toddler again.

“You know what, never mind, I’ll talk to you about this later.” You continued to walk past him and run to your house, leaving the boy behind.

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wenevergotusedtoegypt · 3 years

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It has been a DAY, let me tell you people

After waiting for almost an hour after our appointment time at the pediatrician we finally got in and had the pleasant surprise of actually getting to see my son’s doctor instead of another doctor at the practice, he promptly diagnosed the ear infection and wrote a prescription for antibiotics, great.

Normally we use a pharmacy that delivers, but when the prescription came through shortly afterwards, they had no delivery windows open til tomorrow afternoon. Which like...no, not waiting that long to start antibiotics. This actually happened to me a different time, also with antibiotics, and that time I called customer service and they were able to squeeze me in that day. So I decided it was worth a shot trying that again.

They were not able to do that this time, so they offered to transfer the prescription to a different pharmacy so we could get it today. I gave them the information for the closest pharmacy to us, which was a mistake, because I should have KNOWN something would go wrong. At least some small minor thing has ALWAYS gone wrong every time I’ve used that pharmacy, which is why I stopped using it and switched to this other one. But we had a cranky as heck toddler to deal with, and going further out of our way to a different pharmacy seemed inadvisable.

That was all in the car on the way home. After we got home, my husband went to do some errands near that pharmacy and stopped in to see if they had the prescription yet. They told him to come back at 5:00. This was about 3:15.

At 5:00 I called the pharmacy. I said, “Hi, I have a prescription that was being transferred to you and I wanted to see if it was received yet.” The woman asked for the date of birth, which I gave her, and the last name, which I gave her. She said, “Yes, I see it, it came in today.” I said, “Great, when will it be ready?” She said that it has to be mixed so I said ok, when will that be done, and she clarified that it has to be mixed at the time of pickup so whenever we come to pick it up they will mix it and it will take about 5 minutes for it to be ready.

At about 5:45 my husband showed up at the pharmacy to pick up the prescription and was told they did not have it. One of the employees claimed that I called and asked about the specific medication, and coincidentally they had just received a different prescription for the same medication, but I never gave my son’s DOB or name and so they didn’t realize it wasn’t for him (which was framed as my fault). Which, first of all, if that had been what happened, that still would have been a screwup on their part? You should not confirm that you have received a particular patient’s prescription without finding out who the patient is?? But also, it’s not what happened. It played out exactly as I wrote above. I DID give his DOB and name and I DID NOT ask about the medication by name, mostly because I do not frickin know how to pronounce it so why would I try.

Anyway my husband keeps trying to talk to various staff for a while and Pharmacist 1 (of 2, to be relevant later in the story) then adds to the story to be that they have been trying to get in touch with the original pharmacy and have not been able to and that my husband should call them. So my husband calls the first pharmacy and they say that they left a voicemail for this pharmacy, which Pharmacist 1 says was not received. Pharmacist 1 then proceeds to give the other pharmacy a completely different phone number than the one publicly available for this pharmacy.

My husband waits a bit longer and then Pharmacist 1 tells him that he needs to call back the first pharmacy because they haven’t done some administrative mumbo jumbo with the prescription that would allow it to go through with the insurance. By this point it is after 6pm and the first pharmacy is closed. Pharmacist 1 tells my husband there is simply nothing they can do today.

By this point I was flaming mad and in full mama bear mode because my husband had been telling me about the whole thing and I couldn’t believe the way they’d lied about my 5pm call and were taking zero responsibility for things (if they had told me at 5pm that they didn’t have the prescription, we would have had 45 extra minutes to sort it out with the first pharmacy, but no, I was told we could walk in anytime and walk out 5 minutes later with the medication). I was also staring at a second night in a row of basically no sleep with a toddler in pain taking up half my bed thanks to this incompetence. So I grabbed my son and ran out of the house with him, met my husband halfway to hand off the toddler so I wouldn’t have to take him into an enclosed public space, and headed into the pharmacy.

At this point I had no hope that we were going to actually get the antibiotic today, but I wanted them to own up to the fact that they screwed up and at least make some attempt at rectifying the issue (like, “we’ll get on this first thing when we open tomorrow morning and call you the moment it’s ready” or something along those lines). Now, there were 5 staff in this pharmacy, 4 of whom could theoretically have answered the phone per their positions. Of those 4, 2 were men and so definitely did not tell me at 5:00 that they had my prescription, and 2 were women. One woman had a heavy accent. It was not her who I spoke to. So I basically 100% knew when I walked in the door who was responsible for this issue (this is not a place that has a zillion staff running around, and they close at 7, so it wasn’t a new shift from 5:00).

I waited in line and when I got to the front, to the woman who told me at 5:00 that they had the prescription, I said, “Hi, my husband was just here asking about a prescription for my son and I need to follow up with someone about what happened.” This woman acted like she had no idea what situation was being referred to even though my husband had left maybe 10 minutes ago max, and politely requested my son’s information like it was the first time she was dealing with it. She then told me they did not have his prescription. When I related the 5:00 call (without letting on that I knew I’d spoken to her - and now I was even more sure because I recognized her voice), she just said she didn’t know who I’d talked to but they didn’t have it, and refused to take any responsibility either personally or institutionally for what I’d been told.

At that point, Pharmacist 1 jumped in and related the same story she’d told my husband and told me that she couldn’t fill a prescription that she didn’t have. I told her that I understood that at this point it seemed we were not getting the prescription tonight, but what I wanted to address was the fact that I was told at 5pm that I could walk in and walk out 5 minutes later with my son’s medication and now he was going to start his antibiotics a day late. She continued to tell me over and over that she couldn’t fill a prescription she didn’t have, no matter how many times I reiterated that what I wanted was not for her to do that, but for the pharmacy to just take responsibility for the fact that they screwed up and because of that my toddler was going to have to suffer an extra night. This kept going back and forth with no headway being made, just getting more and more heated, until she got sick of talking to me and handed me off to Pharmacist 2. With whom I initially proceeded to have the exact same exchange of “we can’t fill a prescription we don’t have” “I’m not asking you to do so, I just want to speak to someone who will take responsibility for what happened here” “well we can’t fill a prescription we don’t have” “I KNOW I AM NOT GETTING THIS PRESCRIPTION TONIGHT, I JUST WANT SOMEONE TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR WHAT HAPPENED AND RECTIFY IT”

....and then suddenly he’s like, “well if you just give me the doctor’s name and number, I can try to get the doctor to send a new prescription directly to us.” OH. OKAY. IS THERE SOME REASON THIS IDEA DID NOT OCCUR TO ANYONE BEFORE I HAD TO DRAG MYSELF OVER HERE AND TAKE THE TIME TO YELL AT ALL OF YOU??? Like, you know, when my husband was there?? I don’t actually enjoy yelling at pharmacy staff or just at people in general! This is not a thing I go around doing! In fact, I had never done it before and if the medication were for anyone other than my sick small child I probably still wouldn’t have! And apparently you had this super sensible, doable, easy solution the whole time but we had to go through all of this crap and me making a giant scene* to get there??

7 minutes later they have the prescription and 8 minutes after that I’m walking out the door with the medication. 🤦🏻‍♀️Pharmacist 1 rang me up at the register and told me that it was ok that I yelled at her because she would have done the same thing for her child in my shoes. People. We didn’t even need to do this!!! You literally could have just called the doctor when my husband was there without my ever setting foot on your awful premises! Why!!!!!!

Anyway then I FINALLY got home and my son was a cranky, exhausted, snotty-faced mess and we still had to actually get him to take the medication, which did not go well. I’m not sure how much he actually swallowed. Really need to figure out a new strategy going forward, but he has no appetite so mixing it into something is unlikely to work. So I asked for advice in a group and while I did get some workable suggestions to try, I also had a rando stranger ask me why he was prescribed antibiotics, as if perhaps her judgment might be that they were not necessary depending on the reason and perhaps I might weigh that more heavily than our literal doctor 🙃(I responded that he was prescribed them because our doctor deemed it necessary)

*my husband’s friend, who knows me as a relatively quiet, calm, and collected individual, was in the pharmacy for the duration of this encounter and I’m sure he was like WHAT THE HECK who knew she yelled like this??

#really more than a day it's been a few days #in conclusion if this ever happens again we are going however far we have to go to use a different pharmacy #🙃#and it's a good thing we're going out 2/4 yontiff meals because today was supposed to be my main prep day #and i did exactly zero cooking #and my husband has class from 9-5 tomorrow

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justmarvelwriting · 3 years

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The Defender

So uh, hi. My names Sinead and I was completly enthralled by @shiningloki 's fic Get on Your Knees and Pray for Me (Please read it, it's a work of art. Warning; Heavy NSFW.) Annnnd I wanted to see this little family again so. Here we go. A fan fic of a fan fic.

CHAPTER 1

Stefan smiled as he peered from the top of his book to watch his parents on their balcony above him secretly. He’d long since grown from his childishness of gagging every time his parents so much as chastely pecked each other on the lips. Now his heart warmed as he watched them both laughing above him. They both deserved the happiness they had that the thought of anything tearing them apart broke Stefans heart a little. They both bore scars, all of which he was fascinated with as a child, small fingers tracing each bumpy outline. He was no longer fascinated by them, but understood why his father bore his so openly and proudly. It was his mother who explained to him quietly that mental scars ran much deeper, and much larger then the physical ones he bore from battle. Those were the ones he was most proud he overcame.

“How does he show them off mama?” He mumbled quietly as she stroked his hair.

“By carrying you on his shoulders every chance he gets.”

He chuckles when he remembers the night his father had finally told him the fairytale. He snorted. Asta gave it that name. Loki had tried to keep a stern look on his face but it broke into a grin even so.

It was told to him the night after he had gotten in….an altercation with another boy his age. The boy had a mouth, and he liked to run off with it.

“Nothing but the spawn of the common Midgardian whore and the Dark Prince who fell from Odin's grace!”

Stefan possessed magic that equaled his fathers at his own age, but instead he went the more satisfactory route.

He had punched him twice. Once for calling his mother, a fully realised Goddess in her own right, a common Midgardian whore. The second, for daring to slander his fathers name with such old cruelties.

“I am Lokison,” he yelled, shoulders straight, “and you will NEVER speak ill of my family again.”

One of his friends had pointed out he failed to punch him for insulting him. But Stefan had grinned, his mouth and nose bloody before dragging himself to his mother’s quarters before she found out through other means. She was attending to Eira, the youngest of his siblings who was only a toddler at the time when she caught sight of him. Her face had paled, and he rushed to explain he was ok, they weren’t in danger. He’d just gotten into a fight. She had chided him softly as she moped his nose and chin, Eira bouncing on his lap as he tried to assist, small hands bouncing gently off his chin. His father had appeared not two minutes after, hawking that Baldyrs son was walking around with a broken, bloody nose.

“About bloody —“ He spun slowly on his heel and faced him with wide eyes.

“He called Mom a common whore and slandered your name.” He straightened his back, looking his father squarely in the eyes, "I don't regret a thing."

He coughed, trying to hide the proud smile that stretched his face, “You know not to be fighting in court.”

When your mother had left him in his room that night, Loki had appeared at the door.

“You know, I did convince her you shouldn’t be punished too harshly. You showed restraint after all. You could have used your magic.” he still fought a smile, a rapidly losing battle.

“Thor is very proud of me, apparently, by the way.” he grinned, sweeping his hair out of his eyes.

That made his father unravel into fits of laughter, clutching his side. He snickered also, but it made him wince with his nose.

Loki had sighed, smiling as he sat on the bottom of his bed, and had launched into the tale.

“So truly I can’t really tell you off for defending your family's honour, I did take 5 bullets for your mother after all.” He finished smoothly, smirking at Stefans expression.

“Dad, you didn’t just take 5 bullets you literally took on bloody Odin himself!”

“With your grandmother, uncle and mother in tow.” He warned him, expression serious, “If you take anything from this my dearest Stefan please let it be that you can rely on your family. I am only ever,” he tapped his necklace, “one call away.”

“Stefan!” The present dragged him back to reality and he raised his hand waving to Alex to join him.

Two boys, him and Eira. Two girls, Asta and Eva. And then Alex, his sibling. Five plus Mom and Dad made the perfect storm for the Lokison name.

Alex's cheeks were flushed as they barreled into the chair beside him, slicking back long, inky hair once they caught their breath. Eira was the youngest, still only a child but soon a teen, then Alex, Eva, Asta and himself. Eva was his mother, but smaller, and Alex was similar, but for the inky black hair the rest of the family inherited.

"Uncle Thor had to leave the sparring match early," they explain as Stefan checks his watch, a frown settling over their face, "He was in such a hurry, it was kind of unsettling actually."

Stefan waved his hand, both acting as a dismissive gesture and that to vanish his book, "The nine realms have never known such peace. Don't worry. A diplomatic hiccup, not much more. The realms have never trusted each other more. How could they not? Mother is in charge of that after all." Stefan grinned and Alex relented, grinning up at their parents with a similar adoration on their face that Stefan showed quietly moments before.

"Maybe it's trouble down on Midgard." Stefan mused quietly, "The Avengers perhaps?"

Alex hummed quietly, basking in the late evening sun.

//--//--//

Loki smiles, wrapping arms around your waist as you both look down at two of your children talking quietly in the garden, hands flying animatedly as they throw arguments back and forth.

"I think we did an amazing job my love." he mutters quietly as he watches them both spring to their feet with a laugh that echoes the courtyard, Stefan summoning wooden swords for them to spar harmlessly with.

"I think we did." you smile and you mentally capture this moment in your mind forever. You'd have to paint it, actually. Your hall of art had changed over the years, reflecting your growing family. But by far Loki's favourite was the one at the very end, the huge canvas of your family all together. It would need to be redone, once Eira became a man in his own right, of course. But for now, it captured your family perfectly. You toyed with your necklace, watching thoughtfully as Stefans and Alex's chains glow with your grass green magic for a moment before they fade back to their deep emerald green once more. You felt so peaceful, but something didn't feel right, not in your gut.

"What troubles you, my pet?" Loki purrs and your eyes flutter closed as he places soft kisses all along your throat, hands gripping your waist tighter.

"Something doesn't feel right…" you murmur, sighing softly as the warmth of his lips leave their position. Loki hums softly, dragging you back into your chambers.

"We are all safe." he reassures you quietly, pressing a hand to your chest, "And if anything happens… we will know."

You nod but sigh anyway. Loki chuckles, pressing you against the wall, "My little Goddess… always so attentive to her tasks."

His voice dips and your worry flees your mind as his hand goes up to grip your throat, "I have many tasks I could focus your attention on… your lips around my cock… my hand beating your ass red."

You whimper quietly, but just as Loki is about to speak, his eyes flashing dangerously, there's a knock on the door. Loki growls, only detaching himself slightly before clearing his throat.

"Yes?"

"Prince Loki, your brother requests your presence in the throne room immediately. There's an urgent diplomatic matter he wishes you to aid him in."

Loki sighs and presses his forehead to yours.

"Tell brother dearest I'm coming."

"Later." he promises quietly, smiling and pressing a single finger to your lips. You smile and resist the urge to take it into your mouth.

You smooth your hair and peer out the window. Stefan and Alex are hugging each other tightly, before Alex pushes him away playfully. Stefan notices you and waves up, a wide smile on his face. You blow a kiss and he laughs, a note appearing before you, floating into your hand.

Love you too Mom xx

You sigh dramatically. A carbon copy of his father. The only thing separating them was Stefan's short hair.

You exit your chambers, old habits dying slowly of kissing each of the children goodnight.

---///---///

It's late when Stefan wakes, darkness still cloaking his room and he frowns. He's an unusually heavy sleeper, and is often made fun of when he emerges late from his room in the early hours of the evening.

His curtains flutter and his heart beats loudly in his chest. He closed his balcony door before he went to bed. And locked it.

Quietly, he summons a dagger and swings his feet out of bed. He scans his room, concealing his dagger with his magic, but his hand is shaking. He closes his eyes and focuses on the necklace at his throat.

"Dad, come quietly, quickly. I think there's someone in my room."

The response is almost instantaneous, but the only indication to him is the dip in his bed.

"Stand, pretend to head for the bathroom, keep your dagger hidden."

He felt his father's hand at the back of his neck, squeezing him gently, "You're safe, my son. No harm will come to you."

Stefan stands lazily, heading to his bathroom, eyes darting around as he fakes a yawn, running his fingers through his hair.

A figure leaps from the darkness and he growls, dropping into a roll, the attacker leaping into a crumpled heap before they both leap to their feet. The attacker lunges, but he is caught by his throat, his father revealing himself in a flash of brilliant green light. The fury on his father's face is nothing Stefan has ever seen before, cold hard lines and his eyes practically glow in the dark room.

"Well done my boy." Loki grins at him as Stefan leans heavily on his door frame hand to his chest. Then his heart stops.

"The others!" he lets his dagger clatter to the floor and practically flies out of the door, sword fitting in his palm easily. He practically kicks down the door of each of his siblings in turn, flooding the room with light, before stumbling back out. Asta practically leaps out of bed when he wakes her, the panic on his face telling her everything she needs to know. He flicks her a dagger and they both sprint towards Alex's room, feet impossibly loud on the marble floor. Stefan grits his feet and Alex's door practically flies off its hinges.

Just in time to see someone leap off his balcony ledge, Alex draped over their shoulders like a sack of bricks.

"ALEX." Astas scream pierces the air but Stefan leaps off the balcony like a deranged man, landing impossibly lightly before taking off at a breakneck speed. The attacker weaves in and out of the maze of hedges trying to lose him, but a cold smile graces Stefans face. He's been running in these gardens since he was a child, he knows every pocket like the back of his hand.

"Stop!" He bellows as they reach the edge of Asgard, the attacker not turning to face him, "I am Stefan of Asgard, Son of Loki and you will release my sibling immediately."

The attacker turns slowly. But Stefan can only see his thin smile.

"No."

And he falls backwards.

#Loki #mculoki #fan fic #fan fic of a fan fic #writers on tumblr #loki x female reader #getonyourkneesandprayforme #it’s a masterpiece you better have read it

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Goof Week: Goofy Birthday Shortstacular!

Hyuck all you happy people! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY GOOFY! The celebration already got on track today with a look at the two part goof troop pilot. You can find that here.

That review kicked off GOOF WEEK my weeklong look at all things Goofy, but as is tradition on this blog the birthday of one of the big three wouldn’t’t be complete without a look at their theatrical shorts career. And with this one i’ve covered all three of Disney’s biggest stars having covered Donald last june (and will again next month) and Mickey in September so it’s long overdue that my boy gets a shot and even longer overdue I watched some of his classic shorts.

A large part of why I started doing these is because I love classic theatrical shorts and the reason I love looking at the Disney ones is, unlike Looney Toons or Tom and Jerry, I didn’t grow up with these and Disney never replayed them. At most you’d get one or a small slice of one in a House of Mouse episode. So this is a fun way to dive right into history and see a piece of Disney I’ve only started scratching the surface of.

This is a fun one too. I ended bumping this up to 12 shorts again, and i’m glad as it allowed me to take a look at some of the weirder stuff and we go all over the place: We have dancing, goofy begging for a smoke, goofy devlopnig a split personality that calls him fat a bunch, a prototypical max who is a LOT, trips to medevil times and cowboy times, a tex avery esque noir short, and the lead in short to National treasure. If any of that sounds like a real good time to you, then keep reading under the cut!

Mickey’s Revue (1933)

Goofy was created by his VA Pinto Colvig, who based the character on the local happy go lucky moron from his home town, and after a dicussion with Walt it was decided to roll him into Mickey’s growing supporting cast.

My guess from here is they decided to do a dry run to make sure the character worked with audeinces before giving him a full time roll. Given Goofy’s been both a staple of Mickey’s supporting cast and often more popular than the mouse or even the duck, you can see how that went.

Colvig was awesome. While Bill Farmer is my preferred Goofy, I still tip my hat to the original and it’s clear this was a character he was born t play and it shows: a lot of characters take a short or too to really find their personality. Goofy.. has his early shorts persona straight out of the box> The only weird thing is he’s an ol dman here.. but otherwise his schick here, loudly eating peanuts, laughing a bit too loud and annoying everyone around him with no genuine malice.. that’s Goofy and Pinto really hit onto something and as we’ll see today had a TON of range beyond this.

As for the rest of the short.. it’s forgetable. It’s not BAD, but it’s just Mickey and friends capering on stage. Nothing really out of the oridnary for these early Mickey Shorts, especially since some of them could get really damn creative.

The Whoopee Party (1933)

Now we have Goofy’s first proper appearance, going from joke character in the crowd to full member of Mickey’s friend group.

This one is also just okay, but better than the last: Mickey and friends throw a wild party, with Mickey, Goofy and Horace making the sammiches. Goofy dosen’t do much btu gets a good gag or two, and overall it’s alright. Enjoyabl efor it’s lively animation and not much else.

Goofy and Wilbur (1936) Three years later we get Goofy’s proper debut, a cute short about him using his Cricket friend to fish. That’s not the exestitnal nightmare that it sounds like mind you as Wilbur simply tricks them into Goofy’s net an donly gets eaten when they catch on and Goofy runs to his aid. The short really is more about Wilbur but it’s fair: like with Donald , who was paired with Pluto in his first solo short, they wanted to test the waters before having Goofy carry a cartoon himself. As we’ll see he very well could, but it’s fair to want ot backdor pilot it first and it’s easily one of the best shorts of today’s batch.

How to Play Baseball (1937)

First off while they make a good effort I already know how ot play baseball short...

How To Play Baseball is my faviorite of the Goofy Shorts on Disney Plus, which is a VERY small batch. Especailly since most of Today’s shorts aren’t at all problematic or inapproriate for kids. This one is a gem though. It’s one of the How To Shorts where a narrator goes ove rgoofy trying and failing at an activity though this one’s a tad diffrent.

The How To Narrator teaches us about baseball before narrating the world series game. It’s full of cleve slapstick, high speed animation and plain fun. It’s also part of the trend that would dominate Goofy’s sports career of putting him in whatever roll the shorts needed. Here he’s everyone at once, others he’s his old goofy self, other time sh’es just a normal joe. But Colvig does every version amazingly, so it all meshes and that general goofy design is so appealing it just WORKS. So yeah while i’m not into sports I do genuinely love the How To shorts, as they were my faviorite part of House of Mouse and still are, and the originals are every bit as classic as their reputation says they are.

A Knight For A Day (1946)

This one is the only other one of these on Disney Plus and it’s decent enough. Nothing incredibble or extra specail: Goofy plays a Squire who has to fil lin for his Knight in a tournament and tries to win a princesses hand against another douchier goofy. Simple stuff iwth some fun gags, but it just dosen’t feel all that fresh, especially since Disney already did a much better shorts with knights with Mickey’s “Ye Olden Days”. It just dosen’t feel as fun or creative as that one was btu on it’s own it’s fine. Nothing great, nothing terrible, just fine. First short of the day to feature Goofy’s faceless blonde love interest who in domestic shorts is his wife and by the same extension Max’s now dead mother.

Tomorrow We Diet (1951)

We’ve got three from 1951 here. By this point Goofy had traditioned from lovable bumbler to every man, taking on a more generalized personality to fit into every day slice of life scenarios, using those to brilliantly contrast the goofy animated comedy with the more mundane setting it comes from. And sometimes it’s just straight up sticom humor with the ocasoinal joke you could only do in a cartoon. And sometimes.. you get a version of Goofy who lives in a mirror taunting Goofy over being fat and then trying to keep him on his diet while it’s not clear if thi sis a split personality, a mirror ghost tormenting him that took his form and is doing this so Goofy breaks the mirror and frees him, or his evil doppleganger from another universe.

Yeah .. one of the centerpieces of this short is Goofy’s reflection/split personality/earth 3 doppleganger/some sort of evil genie taunt shim abotu the fact he’s putting on weight startnig by saying “Hey Fat”... because apparently in this unvierse the best weight joke they can come up with is literally just calling someone fat. I bet I know who rules THIS timeline with an iron fist....

youtube

The first half of this short is Goofy being told he’s fat by a bunch of people and the second half is his hallucination/psychotic break/guardian asshole tormenting him with the diet. And I do mean tormenting: He knocks away all of Goofy’s food, then suggests he not even eat his carrot and STARVE himself, which is just deeply unhealthy, and earlier forces Goofy to let him read his book and then tell shim to just diet anyway. Which granted dieting IS sensible.

So yeah this short as you can probably guess by the fact it involves the term “Hey Fat” which was only said by a human being once.. Dick Kinney or Mick Shaffer, the writers of ths short, when one pitched the line to the other and they laughed for some reason and put it in the script. But with that you can wager this short is REALLY outdated> Overating CAN be a problem and fat shaming still exists, but it’s far less tolerated and far less of a thing.

And hell I can tolerate a good natured weight joke, the Critic had some great ones, especially as a fat guy myself... but this isn’t good natured. The entire joke is, as the man said above HE’S FAT.. So as a legit short. it’s deeply unfunny at best, horribly insulting at worst. But as a so bad it’s good short? it’s GOLD. From the whole mirror goofy thing, to the fact fat is seen as a legit insult here or something to just call fat people because that’s what the writers thoguht humans, even in the 50′s talked like it’s just riffably cruel.. though it will obviously depend onthe viewers tolerance for both fat jokes and how creepy the short can be and again as a short it sucks. As something to be mocked for fun.. it’s fat with potential

Father’s Are People (1951)

Hey Kids you wanna see Max and Goofy reenact Problem Child?

Given I did Goof Troop earlier this week and i’m finishing this week with A Goofy Movie, it shouldn’t come as a huge shocker that I wanted to cover the first short with Goofy’s son Juinor, who’d later be remolded into Max.

The short STARTS promising with Goofy having a kid and the hyjinks that comes from having a baby child: Goofy passes out Cigars because Lung Cancer was the preferred way of celebrating having a child in the 50′s, runs himself ragid helping out, which I give the short credit for as “Donald’s Diary” three years later would play a man helping a woman around the house for horror. Here George (Goofy would often go by George Geef in later shorts) pitches in and while he’s clearly exausted he is trying to help with the boy.

It takes a turn though once we jump ahead to a toddler Junior. Seriously a red head named junior... there’s no way that’s a coincidence. Anyways, the problem is unlike problem child, where Junor dosen’t really go after his dad but the assholes around his pushover dad who genuinely deserve it, this Junior goes after Goofy who at wors tis mildly negelectful but clearly loves his boy> He also DOES try to take a brus hto the kid... but it’s hard to be too mad about that as it was acceptable at the time and he dosen’t actually paddle a three year old. It’s like a less horrfying version of donald puttin ga penguin to a shotguns face in that the targeted party dosen’t see the threat and that goofy isn’t some form of sociopath in this short like Donald was there. It’s just not very funny and only worth watching at all for the historical value.

No Smoking! (1951) (Patreon Selection by WeirdKev27)

This is my first of two Patreon selections, my patreon is here if you want to chip in a buck to pick a short for Donald’s birthday next month, by longtime friend and backer of the blog Kev. He suggested this one for the sheer absurdity of Goofy smooking.. and was right on the money> This one is DELGITHFUL.

It works on two levels: it works on the modern level of seeing such an iconic cartoon grapple with trying to quit smoking, first smoknig so constantly a giant cloud appears over him and he has about 80 cigs in his mouth at once, but then trying to quit and being surrounded bycigs before finally DESPERATELY begging for one. As I discovered you really HAVEN’T lived till you’ve heard goofy madly call out “Smoke, smoke gotta have a smoke”.

But while the novelty IS great.. it’s also just a good cartoon. Outside of some blatant racisim at the start, with a native american sterotype introducing smoking to colmbus which feels so wrong to type I need a shower and really puts a damper on the short which after that.. is just really funny. From the smoking through the ages, to the very creative smoking gags it’s just fun.. and it is CLEARLY anti-smoking, showing both the insane amount of cigrte smoker can go through and how mad the addiction can drive you. It’s not bad... though if you can’t stomach the blatant and terrible racisim.. I get that and it’s fair.

Two Gun Goofy (1952)

This is one of two “put Goofy in another setting all together” pieces, both in the same year which tells me they were trying to find new stuff to do for Goofy. Thi sisn’t unheard of in cartoons: Around the same time and before Bugs Bunny went all over the world and thorugh time and space, and Mickey went through the looking glass and had two fantasy shorts, so i’ts not unusual

But what IS neat about these next two shorts is they combined the two goofys: he has his goofy demanor and oblivoiusness from the classic shorts, but still has his deeper, slightly less goofy voice from the everyman shorts and is still treated as an average joe, just one now undertaking genre careers, here a cowboy and next a detective

This short is decent. I’m a sucker for cowboy episodes apparently: either old west style showdowns or having the characters go to a dude ranch or something. So naturally I picked this one and was told Max was in it an dhe is... in a two second cameo when Goofy has a thought bubble after meeting faceless lady.

But this is a really enjoyable picture. not Disne’y sbest but good stuff. It also pairs Goofy with pete which really is a perfect pairing, putting our scowling rotund villian against our skinny well meaning hero. And while i’ts a common gag in a lto of things I do love Goofy accidently beating the shit out of pete as the short finds fun ways to do it. All in all worth a watch.

How to Be a Detective (1952)

This one was a REALLY fun one. Like with westerns i’m a sucker for a good noir parody, even if ironically I haven’t watched much of either genre proper. Add in the fact this is clearly inspiried by Tex Avery’s work and i’m sold on this fun madcap romp with an approraitely more noirsh narrator.

Goofy is naturally a detective and hired by the faceless woman to find “Al” having to contend with both a goon he keeps failing to recognize and The Chief of Police, played by Pete, who keeps telling him “I told ya to stay off the case Goof!”. It’s just the delivery makes it funny any time he says it as does his instance... and the punchline, which I won’t spoil to both that an dthe overaching mystery i sa gem. This one’s on youtube, seek it out, it’s damn fun. Before I go thoguh I also love how Goofy is Given “Goof Balls”. Yes GOOFY GETS DRUGGED and I am here for it

Father’s Day Out (1953)

I couldn’t find any GIF’s for this one, not even one’s in teh same tag that were unrelated so here, have more smoking Goofy. It will never not be funny.

This one is ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhtastic. Goofy is overworked, wnats to rest on his weeknd, and stuff gets in the way. Oh and halfway through he abrubtly has to take Max to the beach. It’s.. not much honestly. It’s like the simpsons if it wasn’t funny.

How To Hook Up Your Home Theater (2007) (Emma Fici Patreon Selection)

You may notice the MASSIVE time jump here. That’s because while Disney still does theatrical shorts nowadays, in part because Pixar’s shorts turned out to be a huge hit, they almost never use the classic cast. This delightful anamoly is one of the few exceptions and was picked by Emma out of sheer curosity. And she picked well this short is fun, feelnig like a big budget version of the House of Mouse How To Shorts I loved so an dhaving a modern yet still ultimatley timeless subject: while the tech featured is missin ga streaming box and 4k, otherwise it really has aged incredibly well and getting all the diffrent modes set up and what not is a hassel we al lcan agree with.

It’s a fun short with lots of good gags and humor as Goofy tries to set up his Home Theater before the big game, and worth a watch. Weirdly not on Disney+ though try explaining that one.

One final note is for whatever reason this was paired up with National Treasure: Book of Secrets.

My BEST GUESS i sthat it appeals to the kinds of dads who’d watch National Traesure: Book of Secrets as well as kids since it’s an adventure film. Though it now makes me want to see Nicholas Cage voice goofy. Get on it Disney. Not forever though, Bill’s a treasure. Just for a gag like Don Cheadle vocing Donald.. oh god put them together.. and then have them do a movie together I don’t think they have and do not know why.

Final Ranking: As a bit of added fun to close this out and as a new feature for these i’m ranking today’s shorts from best to worst How To Be A Detective How To Play Baseball No Smoking Goofy and WIlbur How To Hook Up Your Home Theater Two Gun Goofy The Whoopee Party Mickey’s Revue Tommorow We Diet A Knight for A Day Father’s Are People Father’s Weekend

For the record despite not being a GOOD short Tommorow we diet is at least intresting, hence i’ts ranknig while Father’s weekend is just a boring 50′s version of problem child. Fathers are People at least has some good gags to set it off.

So thank you for reading and if you liked this review give it a like and consider joining my patreon at patreon.com/popculturebuffet. As a patron you’d get access to exclusive reviews, the patreon’s discord and to pick a short each time I do one of these shortstaculars. Donald’s comnig next month and the deadline is in only a few days to join up for said month so the clock is ticking. Even a dollar a month helps me reach my stretch goals so please i fyou can sign up today and if not, I understand and i’ll see you at the next rainbow

#goofy #disney #goofy's birthday #goofy goof #max goof #mrs goof #pete #peg leg pete #peg legged pete #pete pete #pinto colvig #disney shorts #disney plus #disney+

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nelllraiser · 3 years

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raising nell | erin & nell (flashback)

TIMING: some twenty years ago. LOCATION: the childhood home of the vurals. PARTIES: @corpse--diem & @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: erin takes a sitting job from nisa, looking after a young nell. the regret is almost instantaneous.

With the coven meeting fast approaching, Nisa had been left high and dry by her usual babysitter. She was one of the other young girls in the coven who knew the ins and outs of watching a magical child, and all the hurdles it came with. At least Beatrice and Lucinda were already taken care of. Just last evening they’d been taken for a two-night excursion along with their father and a few other fire elementalists to better understand the flame and its sanctity. As for her youngest...Penelope had yet to show signs of any fire-wielding despite Nisa employing all the usual tricks to encourage combustion. But she cleared her mind of that troubling thought as the young sitter she’d managed to find on short notice returned to the doorway with her, and Nisa handed over Penelope as she prepared to leave. Almost instantly, the child witch began to squirm in Erin’s arms, trying to work her way out of them. “She’s got a lot of energy, but her bedtime is in two hours. It’s best if you tire her out in the backyard before then. Oh- also the Latin tapes are near the radio on her bedside table, and should be played for her to fall asleep to once you’ve read her two books. You’ve got my number, and I need to go so please feel free to call me if you have any questions.” With that Nisa opened the door as she glanced down at her watch, antsy to depart. She could still make it on time if she sped. “I’m sure everything will be fine. I’ll see you around ten, Erin! Thank you, again!” And with that she was gone out the door.

Erin nodded along quickly, eyebrows raised as Nisa Vural listed off very explicit instructions on how to take care of the infant wiggling her way out of her grip. This wasn’t the first babysitting gig she’d taken on in the past few weeks, at the encouragement of her parents, but already something felt a little… off in the Vural household. It was hard to put her finger on what but the Latin tapes were her first clue. Maybe they were just one of those families that played Mozart or Bach to their kids hoping it’d make them smarter or something? Not like she had a lot of room to judge. It wasn’t as if she had the most normal childhood living above a funeral home. “Okay, sure, but what if she--” But Nisa had already closed the door behind her. Guess Erin would just have to figure it out. “Bye,” she called out weakly to the closed door. Finally, Erin let the kid slide out of her grip enough to let her down onto the floor and she knelt down to her leve. “Alright, Penelope, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m Erin!” She gave her a bright, if not slightly forced smile. “What do you say we go outside and play? Does that sound like fun?” She asked, her voice laced with the exaggerated, slightly condescending tone that came with talking to babies. The faster she tired this kid out, the better.

Nell settled on the ground in an ungraceful heap of limbs and grabby hands. Almost instantly she rocked from side to side on her toes, Erin’s tone of voice doing it’s job of getting her excited. “I’m Penellie!” the little girl screeched in her excitement as an introduction, a combination of her given name and the one her family tended to call her. She barely waited another instant before shooting off towards the backdoor, grabbing any small items she could get her hands on along the way as she blazed the trail though the house. “Race you! You’re too slow!”

Penelope was very nearly endearing, even with her screeching, before taking off like a bat out of hell. “Oh, Penelope, no, don’t!” Erin yelled and followed behind her, trying to scoop up the items that didn’t fit into her tiny fists. “Ow, fuc--” she muttered, stopping herself before she could fully curse in front of the rugrat, even if she stepped on a small, sharp object that had clattered onto the floor. She picked up what she could and put them up high enough so Penelope couldn’t grab them again and trailed after her to the backyard. “Oh, no, you won. You’re so fast!” she exclaimed as she followed her outside. “What do you have in your hands?” She eyed the girl suspiciously. Whatever they were, she had a feeling Penelope shouldn’t have them. “Can I have them so I can push you on the swing? Please?”

“Ha!” Nell exclaimed, not humble in her victory in the least. “You’re too slow!” she called out as Erin relinquished to the toddler’s obviously superior speed. At the mention of her hands and their contents, the little girl took off once more in the blink of an eye, holding her prize high above her head as she yelled her answer with bright eyes. “A knife!” Indeed, there was a blade clutched within the teeny fingers of her hand, though it wasn’t a knife in the traditional sense of the word. The blade was an athame hastily grabbed from one of her family’s altars. Still...there was no denying that it was sharp, and larger than the average kitchen knife. “No! You have to catch me!” Nell giggled as she ran with little regard for the ceremonial dagger in her hand. “Then swing!”

That was a knife. The child that Erin was supposed to be taking care of was running around here with a knife in her goddamn hands. She was not getting paid enough for this. “Penelope, no!” She yelled and bolted after her. Wait, no. Chasing her would only force the kid to run more. Erin stopped in her tracks and held her hands up, trying not to let her see the panic in her eyes--though she doubted it was hidden well. Because she was. She was panicking. “Penelope, put that down right now!” She pointed a questionably authoritative finger at her. “If you don’t put it down right now, we’re going inside, and you’re going to bed without any snacks! I mean it!”

“Yes, Penelope!” The little girl continued to giggle with a hint of mania coloring it, apparently all too thrilled with Erin’s impassioned response to her holding the knife. Generally Nisa wasn’t all too concerned with Nell’s handling of knives, having taught the little girl the basics of knife safety as was protocol for a budding, young witch. Therefore it was much more amusing to watch the way this new lady had reacted with loud words and open hands. Unfortunately- the mention of missed snacks put a damper on that new found joy. “You can’t do that!” she yelled back, already hastily climbing the oversized playset that was a permanent fixture of the backyard. She got the very top of it before looking down at Erin, knife still in hand, and a new thought coming to mind. “Fine! If you can catch it you can have it!” she exclaimed before willing the knife to magically make its course towards Erin, always loving to play this game with her father. She always loved the way he would magically slow the knife before catching it, pretending to plunge it into his chest before dramatically falling to the ground with Vegas-worthy theatrics.

“I can and I will!” Erin instantly retorted, trying not to think about how silly she felt about arguing with a toddler. She was supposed to be the one with the authority in this dynamic but this literal child had manage to shift that on its head in a matter of minutes the moment her mother had left. “Penelope! No!” She yelled when she saw the child fling the knife in her direction. In all of her sixteen years on this earth, Erin had never felt fear and panic strike her so deeply as it did the moment the knife struck a nearby tree just inches from her face. “Bad, Penelope. That was BAD!” She found herself yelling by accident, her young life still flashing in front of her eyes. Shakily she yanked the knife out of the tree and tossed it far away from the young child into another part of the yard. “Get down here, right now. Playtime is over,” she continued trying to scold her, approaching where she stood on the play set, pointing to the ground, even though her voice had lost much of it’s authoritative gusto. She’d been here less than a half hour and was already ready to go home.

“You didn’t catch it!” Nell accused with a deep pout on her lips, tiny arms crossed defiantly over her chest. Why hadn’t the lady caught it like her Dad did? Sometimes he even magicked fake blood and everything while his tongue stuck funnily out of his mouth! What was wrong with this woman? Where was her magic? Why wasn’t she using it to play? “That’s a mean word!” the little girl called down from her perch on the playset, apparently not at all amused with being called ‘bad’. “I’m not bad! I’m not! You’re bad!” Still...Nell didn’t like the feeling of being called bad. It made her tummy hurt and her bottom lip tremble. Wasn’t there some way to make the lady think she was still good? One bright idea later, and Nell was toeing the edge of the playset, high enough on it that the ground below looked miles away to her short legs. “I’ll fly! Bad people can’t fly!” That made sense somewhere in her tiny head, and mommy loved it when Nellie showed how good she was at casting the magic that made her fall slowly! “You stay there and watch!” And with that her little legs were already bending, arms raised high as she let gravity begin its course- already able to feel that fun little buzzing sensation of magic filling her veins.

“You threw it at me! I can’t catch knives!” Of course, trying to explain this to a toddler was more futile than trying to get her to stop, but Erin had to say it anyway. It was the only thing that made sense, even if it didn’t. She tried to regain some semblance of control over this ridiculous situation despite the frustrated burning at the back of her eyes. She was supposed to be the adult here. “No, you are being bad, Penelope. You’re not listening to me and that’s not nice, is it?” She stood a little firmer, fearful now instead of her own life, for the little girl’s. And a little for herself. If this kid died while she was supposed to be in charge of her, her mom and Erin’s mom were going to absolutely kill her. She ran towards where Penelope was readying herself to jump and held her arms up. “Hey, no. No! Penelope, don’t! Stop! You’re not bad just--STOP!” But it was too late--the girl was in motion and in the air. Erin didn’t think, just lept, her arms wrapping around Penelope mid-air. They hit the ground with a thud, Erin’s back taking the brunt of the impact. She didn’t let her go, not for a second, squeezing the child to her even as she hauled herself up to an upright position. “Why would you do that? Jesus--are you okay? Are you hurt?” She asked in a panic, looking over her for cuts and that all of her bones and parts were bending in the ways they were supposed to.

The joint impact of Erin and Nell hitting the ground momentarily stunned the little girl. She wasn’t hurt, but she’d...fallen? She wasn’t supposed to fall. Not like that, anyway. The unexpectedness of the result had caught Nell off guard. This wasn’t the endt she’d wanted to achieve, and for some reason that was deeply upsetting. Now the lady was looking at her with big eyes and more panic, but this time the stress in her voice was different. It wasn’t a fear for herself that colored the woman’s words, but a fear for Nell. Was Nell supposed to be scared? If the adult was worried about Nell, she should also be worried about herself, probably. Right? All of the commotion seemed to have finally taken hold of Nell, and her bottom lip began to tremble, eyes growing a little glassy— worried that Erin was worried. “I just- I wanted to show you,” she began dejectedly, suddenly feeling very tired. “But now we’re on the ground! And I don’t want to be on the ground!” It was the best she could do with the limited vocabulary and emotional intelligence of a child. A little hiccup broke up Penelope’s words, still not entirely understanding what was going on. Then she remembered her former determination, and she was back on the wagon of sticking to her guns. “I’m not bad!”

“You’re on the ground because you jumped, Penelope!” Erin argued, even though the second she said it she knew it was a useless stance to take in an unwinnable argument. She brushed some of the grass off of the little girl, taking a final glance over to make sure there weren’t any visible bruises or scratches her mother would come questioning Erin about later. That’s when she noticed her ever-growing wet eyes and even as frustrated with her as she was, it tugged on her heart enough to concede. “Okay, okay. You’re not bad. Alright?” She was lying but Penelope didn’t need to know that. Standing up and brushing herself off, she reached down and held out her hand for the little girl, hesitant to pick her up after how violently she’d wriggled from her earlier. “But you have to listen to me when I tell you to do things. That’s why I’m here. I’m just trying to keep you safe, okay?” She asked, hoping that she could at least understand a little bit of what Erin was trying to explain here. “What do you say we go inside, get a snack and relax for a little bit, hm?” She tried to smile without looking as stressed as she felt. “We can put on your favorite show and eat on the couch and everything. I know your mom doesn’t want you to but we don’t have to tell her. Just this one time,” she offered, putting a finger over her lips like she was sharing a big secret. Kids loved that stuff, right?

“But it wasn’t supposed to go like that!” Penelope whined, still upset with the way things had turned out. Erin wasn’t supposed to catch her! The woman was meant to watch as Nellie gracefully floated to Earth, and coo and awe as she landed with arms open in a high V just as her mom had taught her to do. The other magical ladies loved it when Penelope performed her magic for them, laying praise and praise onto the little girl and her mother for being so accomplished at a young age. So why hadn’t Erin let her show what she could do? “I wasn’t being not safe! I was safe!” Nell protested. But she still remembered how frantic Erin had looked when she’d jumped, and suddenly Penelope was upsetting herself all over again, tiny hands balled into fists while her feelings took a front seat to all else. For a moment it was too much, too many big emotions trapped in a little body, and the only place for them to go was out. Crash! As Nell’s eyes squinted shut, a rather ornate and old looking vase crumbled, cracking into a million little pieces. Nell looked to the ruined family heirloom with wary eyes before finding Erin once more, unsure how the woman might react. “I...I think I want the snack now, please. I won’t tell mommy- I promise.”

It was easy to dismiss the tiny child’s cries of protests. She was young. Half the things children said at this age didn’t make sense or were simply not true, like how she was trying to convince Erin that jumping off of her playset from that height was a totally normal, safe thing to do. “Penelope,” she started, shaking her head. “You’re fine now, that’s all that--” but the young girl was starting to lose it, even know that she was starting to shuffle her back into the house. She didn’t know how she missed it happening but striking a panic through Erin’s entire being when the sound of shattering lit up the empty home. She turned to see the cause of it, a fearful toddler standing not so innocently next to the remains of what looked like a very old, probably very expensive vase. “Penelope, what did you do?!” She exclaimed, her entire body sagging with complete and utter defeat. How was she supposed to explain this? Nisa was actually going to kill her. She could already hear the women in her head scolding her. You should have been keeping a better eye on her! Her mom was going to ground her and make her pay for it and she didn’t even want to do this stupid babysitting thing to begin with! She didn’t know what to do outside of making sure the girl was out of the way of the shards.

“Okay,” she nodded, no fight left in her voice as frustrated tears started to spill down her cheeks. She was so tired. She wanted to go home now. This child was way too much for her to handle. “Go to the couch. Put on your show. I’ll be right there,” she sniffed. Found the broom and cleaned up, nearly on autopilot, her mind sorting through the lectures she would endure when Nisa got home in a few hours.

“I didn’t mean to!” Nellie cried plaintively, knowing that she’d actually done something she wasn’t supposed to do this time. Losing control of her powers was something her mother got upset about, too— and she’d already learned at a young age that disappointing people wasn’t something she exactly enjoyed. “I didn’t mean to! Really! I’m sorry! I was upset and it just- it- it just-” It was her first apology of the evening, and the only one she was certain she owed. But as the woman’s tears began to fall down her cheeks, Nell’s bottom lip began to quiver all over again, upset that Erin was upset. Had she messed up so terribly that she’d made a grown up cry? Grown ups weren’t supposed to cry! Even the younger ones like this lady. “I’m sorry!” Nell whined again, but this time her own face had tears beginning to stream, her little breaths coming quicker and more jilted as she began to cry. And how long had it been since her nap time? Suddenly she felt very tired.

“I’m- I’m- not bad,” she managed to say between the gasps of her impending meltdown, worried that Erin would tell her mom she’d done terrible things. Then she wouldn’t be allowed to go with her sisters to the shop for candy this Saturday. Her mom would probably take her to the boring meetings where all the grown ups did was talk and talk and talk. As Erin did her best to tidy up the vase, Nell took herself to the couch— crawling onto it as new tears continued to fall. She wanted her dad. She wanted her sisters. She wanted the snack that Erin had promised. The show was forgotten about as she lay on the couch, and watched Erin clean up the mess she’d made, wishing her mom’s familiar hadn’t gone to the meeting with Nisa and that she could bury her face in its soft fur.

For a long moment, Erin stared at the pieces of vase in the dustpan, wondering how much work it would actually take for her to put them back together. She didn’t know how but Penelope had done a number on it and after some wishful thinking, dropped the pieces into the trashcan. There was no fixing this one. She was in so much trouble. And now she was crying in front of a toddler. This sucked. Tonight sucked. She sniffled and tried to get herself together while grabbing Penelope’s snack of apples, peanut butter and crackers from the kitchen. This was fine. They’d just sit on the couch, watch some dumb kid’s cartoon, and hopefully, quietly endure the rest of her time in the Vural household. The moment she saw her blurry-eyed, snotty little face, she immediately felt bad for yelling at her. She was being bad but there was something annoying endearing about the young girl with more energy than she’d ever been blessed with. “Here you go. As promised,” she said softly, trying to make her voice more chipper than she felt for Penelope’s sake.

In the background, the TV played some cartoon she didn’t recognize when she sat on the couch beside her. A heavy sigh fell from her and she rubbed the tears from under her own eyes. “You’re not bad, Penellie,” she said after a long moment, brushing the hair away from the young girl’s face. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m sorry about that.” In the lull that followed the evening’s events, Erin’s eyes felt heavier than ever. “But your mom’ll be home soon, I promise. Let’s just--please relax until then.” She gently tugged the young girl closer to her, pulling a blanket over them while she held her snacks and mindlessly watched her show.

She wasn’t sure how long they remained that way but Penelope eventually quieted down, and she swore she heard soft, snotty snoring sounds coming from her side. At some point, she must have fallen asleep too. It was nighttime when the front door opened and she jolted awake. The vase. Oh no. Erin’s eyes immediately went to the spot on the table where it used to sit, her eyes suddenly fearful and wide as saucers. “We, uh--we had an accident.” She glanced down to the sleeping toddler still at her side and she tried to keep her voice hushed. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what happened, I looked away for a second. I swear just a second!”

Nisa knew that the house couldn’t actually catch on fire due to the numerous wards placed on it, but she was relieved nonetheless when she saw it was still standing. Actually- she wouldn’t have minded a little smoke rising from the home. If Penelope had shown signs of exhibiting fire elemental abilities while she was gone, she would have been utterly thrilled. As it were, she’d found the normie girl asleep on the couch with her youngest, and taken a rather endearing picture before waking her— careful not to jostle Penelope awake as well. “Don’t you worry, darling.” To be quite honest, the fact that there was only a single vase broken after she’d left her daughter with a magic-less girl was decently impressive. Besides it would be easy enough to repair with a simple spell once the babysitter was gone.

“It’s actually rather commendable that just a vase was broken.” But she could see plain on the girl’s face that there was that familiar fear there- the apprehension that set in after witnessing a magic you couldn’t entirely explain. This was why she stuck with witches from the coven when it came to babysitting. Penelope was still far too young to be entirely trusted around those without abilities, and those without magic were so intent on fearing what they didn’t understand. It was an age old balancing act between witches and their less magical counterparts, one that had gone so far as to bring about witch hunting at times. “In fact, I think you deserve a little bonus, don’t you?” If the girl had seen something she shouldn’t have, hopefully that would buy her silence. Nisa wasn’t all that worried about it though- after all, normies could be impressively stubborn when it came to rationalizing something they’d seen with their very own eyes. In fact, she’d made a career off their oblivious nature when she’d headlined with her husband. “You just get yourself home safely, and I’ll make sure Penelope gets into her bed.” As Nisa scooped up her child, the little girl stirred for a split moment before settling herself against her mother’s shoulder, still sound asleep. After paying Erin a rather generous amount, Nisa went off to tuck her daughter into her sheets and pillows, making a silent promise that Penelope would only have magical sitters for at least another year.

#// THANK YOU MAR FOR THIS TREAT LMAO #i literally loved this sm #wickedswriting #chatzy #raising nell #ch:Erin

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reginaofdoctorwho · 3 years

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weird shit that would probably have something to do with me in a horror movie

no one wanted this but i’m bored and found a bottle so you’re all getting it. yes these are all true. check the tags, if u think i’ve missed something please let me know!

there was a murder (technically, i don’t really count it as a murder) next door when i was four years old on christmas morning

the weird antique glass bottle i found half-buried in the woods in the woods yesterday with living bugs in it that made no attempt to leave it once i uncovered it

there is a local cult in the next town over. this is not the same as the local cult that was in the other town over where my mom grew up

random completed animal skeletons in the woods behind our house, i’m talking prey and predator, both laid out like in a goddamn scientific diagram. for a while there’d be ones in the middle of our yard, always the same type of animal, always just the bones and nothing else, laid out like it was posed. this has been happening for over half a decade and we have no fucking clue how, why, or who is doing it

the screaming from the woods that i’m going to assume is a fox

my sister almost dated a murderer. his niece or something is in my class

there is a house that is now part of a “local ghost tour” that belonged to my great+ grand parents during the civil war where my great+ aunt died allegedly murdered by her husband who is actually blood related to me. family history says she died of childbirth, which given that it was the 1800s... probably is true

there was an actual murderer in our family a few generations back but he married in and killed his wife and her sister. they didn’t find out about it until they read his journals after he died where it apparently told everything he did and they decided. “well, that wouldn’t look good for the family, and they’re already dead anyway” and just kept it hidden??

the fact we have my great great grandmother’s dress from probably 1890s or 1900s. even more so the fact that i fit in it. if this was fantasy horror (vampires, some immortal thing or ghost) i’d be fucking dead or cursed

fairly certain i was possessed by the ghost of a puritan as a kid

my family seems to have a curse with babies and nurses? my great uncle died when he was born because long story short, hospitals were the new hot thing, he was perfectly healthy, then a nurse dropped him and he died instantly. my sister died when she was a toddler and the hospital actively tried to delete her hospital records to cover it up and ended up getting fined by the state for it. the nurses responsible were not arrested or punished in any way.

my family all has fucked up connective tissue, in my brother it was bad enough he had to get a steel bar in his chest so it wouldn’t cave in.

the many times i have almost drowned, sometimes due to intentional actions by humans (my dad, it was my dad)

this in addition to the other fucked up shit he did before the divorce when he still lived here, including but not limited to: killing my mom’s favorite pet goat, hanging its skull in a tree, and leaving the body in the woods. not letting his kids learn how to cook. anytime someone asked him to cook he’d put as much pepper/hot sauce in as he could (even for like, scrambled eggs) and give it to the youngest person, usually a toddler. this was me at times. taking his kids out to the woods and threatening murder. taking his kids out to the woods and threatening burning. purposely locked the basement from the inside so we couldn’t get the gaping hole in the stairs leading to one of three kids rooms fixed. tearing up pictures of the kids whenever my mom did something he didn’t like. i had more here but i tried to cut it down a litttle

people have threatened to murder me before. one time a girl didn’t threaten, and actually acted like she was starting to like me, but her cousin read her diary or something and found out she was planning to commit a lot of murder, and told her parents and she got sent to a psychiatric ward for a couple weeks

my mom lived down the street from a family that got axe-murdered by one of their two sons when she was a kid. the murderer did get out on an insanity plea and is still in the area. also their neighbor’s mom “lost her mind” (how the story was told) when she had to protect their kids while her husband went over to try to protect the non murderer son when he got home from school and ran over screaming about his brother trying to kill him and had killed their parents

also she knew a girl who almost got kidnapped by this really fucked up traveling serial killer that has his own wikipedia page that is,,, lengthy. the girl had [alleged] mafia ties, and the guy ended up dying shot by police despite them being told to bring him in, which sounds kinda suspicious

long story short i’d probably be the sequel where one comes back

apparently i go to the “bad” school, which i found out in a coffee shop when i overheard two girls talking about how one’s dad went there and how horrible and dangerous it is

school fights are weird. either they don’t happen or they come freakishly close to murder. people slam heads into lockers, stomp on bones, drag people by hair along the ground. one time in my brother’s class a 4′9″ girl sent a 6′2″ football player to the hospital. there was video of a fight a couple years ago that’s still around. it was brutal, but also one of the girls fighting was taking one for the team in it and got the other kicked out

we don’t have a ceiling in all of the third floor, and the cafeteria has 2. this is not relevant in any way, but it’s important to me that you know this

also the guys kept ripping the heating vents/radiators/whatever off the walls in their bathrooms and got almost all the bathrooms locked. including the girls’ ones.

also everyone kept punching holes in the walls so on some of them it’s just,,, metal sheeting down the whole hallway

there are so many fucking shootings in the next town over. literally five years ago it was this nice place where kids would go on history tours, i did when my sister worked for that group. now there is pretty much one business that has not been held up at gunpoint, and if u look up to the serial killer bullet point, it is for v similar ties. it’s a pizza place and if u ever stop by u gotta try it

women in my family have weirdly good intuition but every couple generations we get doubtful. my great grandma didn’t want a hospital birth but decided “hey it’s the hot new thing for a reason”, my mom switched churches based on nothing but intuition and it turned out someone was a pedophile there (found out years later), i instantly could tell my friend’s boyfriend was a pos and wasn’t surprised later when he told her he’d murder and dismember me in front of her, and upon meeting him told him he was a fucking coward and couldn’t do it. he broke up with her a month later.

i was really good friends for a while with two guys that burned a building down. yes they were arrested. i was friends before and after the fire. they’re pretty nice, but this girl they used to date (at different times, they were brothers, yes it was fucking weird and uncomfortable for everyone involved except her but that’s it’s own thing) said some fucked up shit and it was the closest i ever got to starting a fight. anyway i’m still friends with both on facebook. one of them shares a lot of king of the hill memes

speaking of that fight, i 100% would’ve tried to kill her in that moment. u know that john mulaney quote like “i didn’t understand how a person could want to kill another person. then i got cheated on, and i was like ‘oh, okay.’”? that was me, but replace “cheated on” with she told me it was good my five year old sister was dead because she was a waste, and told me she hoped i’d die of covid”. it was mainly the sister thing. i couldn’t move because if i did i’d start a fight with the [way] above mentioned shit.

my family has a literal feud with a local farming family. i mean, we keep farm animals (sheep, goats, chickens), these people have that, pigs, and crops too. the feud was because their great uncle (or great grand uncle, i’m a little fuzzy on the details) published an autobiography (despite not being anyone famous/important) and in it talked about when he was friends with my grandfather and how creepy my great grandfather was (this was the one with the dead firstborn son) because he kept newspaper clippings of the Lindbergh baby’s kidnapping and murder pinned to a board on the wall of his office/basement. also because he was a child of german immigrants who wanted to fight against nazis in WW2 (how suspicious [sarcasm]). members of their family are in my grade. they charged my sister for almost half an extra pound of goods, too, which just revitalized it.

i live by corn fields. i am surrounded by cornfields. (joke one)

i was friends for a while with this girl whose baby teeth,,, didn’t really fall out completely? she was 17 the last time i saw her in person, she’s probably 19 now and judging by her facebook pictures they’re still Like That. she had a very symmetrical mouth/teeth, which made it weirder. just to clarify, she had some of her baby teeth pushed forward and up, so they kind pointed out a little? and all her adult teeth. she was literally so pretty.

a teacher who is v sexual with his female students came into my english class (he is a science teacher) to demand why i wasn’t signed up for his class. we then both became increasingly passive aggressive and he told the whole class where i live with specific directions and landmarks. the guy sitting next to me had to try to tone things down despite being obviously confused as to why it was even happening (me too buddy). he lives down the road from my sister. when my niece had her birthday party at our house i was outside setting things up and he slowed his car down and honked at me. fuckin creep

#tw child death #tw animal death #tw arson #i guess?#tw shooting #tw murder #a lot of that one actually #tw child abuse #tw violence #let me know if u think i should tag anything else #no one wanted this #except for me #tw cult

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doc-pickles · 3 years

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won’t let no one break your heart (part two)

morning folks! i was going to wait until wednesday to post this, but personally i’m feeling a lot of anxiety surrounding today and the future of america so i figured this would be a nice little pick me up. stay safe, go vote, and do things today to keep your mental health safe!

TW// Implied & Referenced Child Abuse

“You have a bump.”

“Mmm don’t say that, that means I’m getting fat.”

Jo and Alex were laying in bed, enjoying a rare lazy Saturday that they both had off. Alex’s fingers splayed across the slight swell of Jo’s stomach, his lips pressing slow kisses across her shoulder. They had a lot that they should be doing, they were moving to a new house next week, but both were too content in the other’s arms to make any move to leave.

“I like it,” Jo laughed as Alex’s lips pressed against her neck, the stubble on his face tickling her. “Makes you look sexy.” “You sound like a caveman,” Jo turned around, lips meeting Alex’s as his hands continued to roam her body. Alex’s phone rang out from the nightstand, a groan leaving Jo as she attempted to pull him closer again. “No, hell no. I’m not doing this again, tell whoever it is that the Chief is off duty and his wife desperately needs to get laid.”

Alex blindly grabbed for his phone and answered it, one arm still wrapped around Jo as she curled into his side, “Karev.”

“It’s Hunt, I need you to come down here.” “Give it to literally anyone else, this is my first day off in weeks. I gotta pack this place up and my wife will kill me if I leave,” Alex swatted at Jo’s hand that was sneaking beneath the covers and trying to distract him. “Jo, knock it off.” “You know I wouldn’t call you unless it was an emergency.”

“Owen, come on-” “You remember that girl with the collar bone?” Alex bolted upright in bed, eyes wide as his heart began to hammer loudly, “Sadie? Is she there?” “Yeah and she won’t let us treat her, she keeps asking for you.” “Okay, I’ll be there in 15,” Alex hung up the phone and looked to Jo, who was already pulling on a sweater. “God damn it.” “Hey, what’d I tell you,” Jo came to stand in front of Alex, her hands coming to run through his hair as he leaned his head against her. “She trusts you, you did the right thing. Get dressed and I’ll drive down there.” 15 minutes later, Jo and Alex rush through the doors of the ER. Owen spots them immediately, a sigh coming from him as he makes a beeline for the couple, “She came in with multiple contusions across her face and torso. We got a portable xray to confirm a couple broken ribs, but she wont let us do anything else.”

Alex and Jo both peeked into the room that Sadie was settled in, the sight before them not a pretty one. He hadn’t seen her in over two months, but she looked like a shell of the girl he’d met before. Her blonde curls were matted with blood and her right cheek was swollen and purple. Alex felt his blood boil as he stared at her, wondering how someone could hurt an innocent little girl.

“Dad brought her in, but PD came and took him into custody,” Owen sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “We haven’t made a call to CPS yet, I was waiting until we could examine her.”

Alex stared helplessly at Sadie, knowing that she was going to get thrown into the system just like he and Jo had. His wife’s voice broke his train of thought, her calm demeanor helping level him a bit, “I’m gonna go up to your office and call CPS, you take care of her.” Jo pressed a kiss to his cheek before walking off, Owen clapping him on the back telling him he’d send someone down to examine Sadie after he talked to her. Alex stood alone in the hallway for a moment, his mind reeling as a hundred different thoughts buzzed through his head.

Sadie was about to endure the same crappy childhood he had, being bounced around to different homes that were only there to collect a check. A kid like her, a good kid, shouldn’t have to go through that. Sadie deserved a mom and a dad who loved her and tucked her into bed every night. People who would help her with homework and teach her to ride a bike and keep her safe. Alex thinks his heart breaks for the little girl because he’d been put through hell when he was only a bit older than her, but he knows deep down that the knowledge of his own impending fatherhood has softened his heart as well.

Alex finally took a deep breath and walked into Sadie’s room, the girls eyes lighting up as soon as she saw him, “I asked for you when we got here, I came to find you Doctor Alex just like you told me.”

A sigh leaves him then, a small smile lighting his face up as he comes to sit on the edge of Sadie’s bed. She immediately crawls over to him, settling herself into his lap and curling up like she’d done it before, “I’m glad you asked for me Sadie, do you think we can get some nice doctors in here to make sure you’re okay?” “Will you stay here with me?,” the blue eyes that look up at Alex tug relentlessly at his heartstrings, the little girl looking to him like he was the only person in the world that could help her. “Please Doctor Alex?” “I’ll stay here, don’t worry Sadie,” Alex saw Meredith lingering in the doorway, a grin appearing on his face as he noticed his best friend. “Sadie, this is my best friend Doctor Meredith, can she take a look at you?” With another assurance that he wasn’t going anywhere, Sadie let Meredith and Schmitt examine her while Alex told her a story about Jo accidentally washing her car keys that she’d left in her pants. The story makes the little girl giggle, but the look on Meredith’s face doesn’t bode well with him.

“She’s got a punctured lung I’m pretty sure,” Meredith’s voice is low as she meets Alex’s worried eyes. “And I’m worried about damage to her kidney, I want to get her up to an OR as soon as possible.” Alex runs a hand over his face in exasperation, head reeling as he took in Meredith’s words. He was a doctor, he knew that Sadie’s injuries were minor for the amount of damage she’d endured, but he was still angry and upset about the circumstances that led her there. He’d found himself fiercely protective of the young girl that he’d met by chance, everytime she looked up to him with her bright eyes his heart fell deeper for her.

“I’ll break the news, you book an OR,” Alex nodded at Meredith, turning back to Sadie with a sad smile. “Hey Cass, Doctor Meredith wants to help fix up your owies. It might be a little scary but she’s the best doctor in this whole hospital.”

Sadie pauses for a moment, eyes scanning Alex before she speaks up, “Even better than you?”

“Yes,” Alex chuckles, happy to see a small smile on the little girl's face. “Way better than me. She’s gonna take good care of you.”

An hour later, Meredith is rolling Sadie down to the OR, Alex by her side. They reach the doors and Alex looks down at the girl he’d become so attached to, “Alright kiddo, this is as far as I go. But I’ll be here when you wake up okay?”

“Can you find Molly for me? I miss her,” Alex furrows his brows, Sadie clearly not willing to reveal more to him. Working in Peds for so long, he knew that she was probably talking about a stuffed animal or a blanket, but she seemed genuinely concerned about the matter. “Please?”

“I’ll find Molly, you just worry about getting better,” Alex squeezed Sadie's hand once more before letting Meredith wheel her away. He stands in the hallway for a few more minutes before heading up to his office.

Sadie would be fine, her surgery was relatively easy and Meredith of all people was doing. But after that, then what? What would happen after Sadie had recovered and she was shipped off to a foster home and treated just the same as she was at home with her own father? The system would chew her up and spit her out, it’s what had led him to being thrown in juvie and had led his wife to living in her car and dumpster diving for dinner. He didn’t want to imagine a future like that for such an innocent child like Sadie, but it was a reality that was playing out before his eyes that he felt helpless to change.

Finally arriving back at his office, Alex couldn’t help the grin that plastered itself onto his face at the state he found his wife in. She was sitting on his couch, eyes struggling to stay open as she rubbed the back of the toddler resting on her chest. He had no clue where the little girl had come from but seeing Jo cradling her so gently made his heart burst.

“Hey, how’s Sadie doing,” Jo perked up a bit as Alex came to sit next to her, his arm slinging around her shoulder as he pulled her into his side.

“Mer just took her into surgery, she’ll be fine though,” Alex looked to the little girl in Jo’s arms, taking in her delicate features and dark curls for a moment. “Where’d you get this one from? You stealing kids from the Peds floor now?” Jo let out a light laugh, shaking her head as she rested it against Alex’s shoulder. Her fingers brushed back some of the stray curls from the little girl’s face, a contented sigh leaving her as she snuggled further into Jo, “This is Sadie’s sister Molly, I was on the phone with CPS when Owen brought her up. Apparently when PD went to sweep their house, they found her all alone crying her eyes out. She was still pretty shaken up when she got here, but I finally got her to settle down. Poor baby reeks of drugs, they found a whole storehouse in the garage.”

So this is who Sadie was so insistent on him finding. Both girls were so young, way too young to be dragged through the shit that they’d already been subjected to. Alex watched his wife and the way she stared at Molly with tears in her eyes. He knew that her mind was going to the same place that he had, thinking of the way both of these girls would be tossed around the foster care system with no regard for their well being. Hell, there wasn’t even a guarantee that the two sisters would stay together through the tumultuous process.

“Hey, they’re gonna be just fine, I’m gonna do my best to guarantee that,” Alex pressed a kiss to Jo’s forehead, holding her close. “They’re not gonna go through what we did.” A knock on the office door breaks the quiet moment, Alex leaping up to answer it as Jo gently shushes the toddler who’d stirred momentarily at the noise. Opening the door, Alex is met by an older woman who stares him down apprehensively, “I was told I could find Doctor Karev here. I’m Martha Lewis from CPS.” Alex opened the door wider, gesturing for the woman to come inside, “I’m Doctor Karev, this is my wife… also Doctor Karev… Please call us Alex and Jo.” Martha settled into one of the chairs across from Jo on the couch, eyeing her and Molly as she pulled a manila envelope from her bag, “Is that Sadie or Molly Morris?”

“This is Molly, Sadie just went into surgery a little while ago,” Jo relayed the information, hand tightening against Molly’s back as Martha looked back up at her. “Umm Alex knows more about that than I do. I was the one who called CPS down here, I’ve been with Molly since she arrived.” Watching his wife’s nervous energy, Alex seated himself on the arm of the couch and settled one hand on her shoulder before turning back to Martha, “Sadie had a lot of surface level injuries including a few broken ribs, but she went into surgery for a punctured lung and possible kidney damage. We’ll know more when she comes out, but she’s in good hands for now.” “I’ll need detailed charts and instructions for her post operative care, we’ll need to forward them to her foster parents,” Martha’s eyes were trained on the papers in front of her, not seeing the worrisome look that appeared on both Alex and Jo’s faces. “Molly will be going to a home tonight, do you know if she has any belongings with her?” “Wait hold on, are you going to separate them? You can’t do that,” Jo’s voice was frantic as she sat up, eyes moving from Martha to Alex, who looked just as upset as she did. “They’re six and two, they’re not going to do well in the system alone, they need each other.” Martha finally looked to Jo and Alex, her expression bored as if she’d had this same conversation a hundred times before, “They are going to separate homes, they don’t have any family members and there’s zero chance of their father regaining custody. Not many people want two young girls on their hands, especially ones that have been in and out of the system before.”

Alex looked from Martha down to Molly, who’s wide green eyes had opened and were blinking up at him in confusion. He thought about Sadie, who was lying on an operating table repairing damage that her father had inflicted on her and about Molly, who was so young that she probably didn’t even know what was happening. He couldn’t let them go through this, not when he had the chance to fix things.

“How long would it take for us to get certified to foster,” Alex’s eyes whip up to Jo, her teeth nervously biting her lip as she pleads with the woman across from them. “We’re moving into a new house this week, we have more than enough room.” A heavy sigh left the older woman as she glared at the two doctors sitting in front of her, “Even if I wanted to-”

“Sadie’s going to need medical attention when she comes home from the hospital, we’re doctors we know what we’re doing,” Alex cuts Martha off before she can speak again, voice sounding just as desperate as Jo’s had. “And she won’t be out of here for awhile, she’s going to need to recover from her surgery. We’ll take them both, at least until you can find someone else willing to take both of them.” Jo and Alex finally meet each other’s eyes, the silent conversation that happens between them fast and simple. They wanted this, they both wanted to help Sadie and Molly if they could, even if it was just for a little while.

“If you’re serious, I’ll forward a recommendation through for you, but it won’t go through for at least three weeks,” Martha looked back to the file in her hands, closing it resolutely. “Molly will have to go to another placement tonight, which means I’ll be taking her now. If you two are approved, she’ll come back to you.” Martha has Alex sign paperwork for Sadie’s case, detailing what he knew already and what he’d surmised from her last visit in the ER as well. Jo entertained Molly while they finished things up, the little girl giggling away in her arms as they played. When Alex was done, the older woman packed up everything again and gestured for Jo to hand Molly over.

“I’ll have someone contact you for a home inspection and other paperwork to get you certified, in the meantime you’ll need to keep the agency updated on Sadie’s condition until she’s released from the hospital,” Martha settled Molly onto her hip, the little girl instantly reaching her hands out to Jo and whining for her. “Come on dear, let’s get going.” Martha and Molly leave then, Jo not even bothering to conceal the tears that are flowing from her eyes as the little girl cries out and continues to try to reach for her. Alex pulls Jo into his arms, one hand coming up to stroke her hair as he holds her, “Hey it’s okay, she’ll be back soon. We’re gonna figure this out, it’s okay.” Jo sniffles, watery eyes coming up to meet Alex’s, “We’re insane.” “I know, but there’s no one else I’d rather be insane with,” Alex’s hand moves from Jo’s back to her growing bump, a grin coming up on his cheeks as a thought forms in his head. “You know, depending on how long the girls are with us we could have three kids in the house.” The remark finally pulls a laugh from Jo as she leans up to press a kiss to Alex’s lips. her hands pressing against his sweatshirt, “Yeah maybe we won’t do that. But we can keep them for a while, as long as it takes to find someone for them, right?”

“Absolutely,” Alex nods as he and Jo begin to walk out of his office. “They’ll be in good hands.”

#jolex #jolex fic #jo wilson #jo karev #alex karev #jo x alex #greys anatomy #greys anatomy fanfic #nina writes

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flying-nightwing · 4 years

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Dark Fox (5/7)

Yoooooo I love this chapter, I think it’s my favourite so far.

Previous - Next

Pairing: Jason Todd x League!Reader

Word Count: 5836

Warnings: same as previous

Your eyes were closed but you could feel Jason growing restless.

It was already the middle of the day and you had not gone out once to train. He kept shifting his position, crossing and uncrossing his legs, and opening one eye to see if yours were still shut. He would also occasionally let long sighs of impatience, like a child stuck inside on a sunny summer afternoon.

It wasn’t that far from the truth, actually.

“Alright” He spoke up, slapping something on his skin. probably a fly. “This is pointless”

You slowly opened your eyes and stared at him. He was sweaty and swatting away bugs around him, and an all too familiar frustration was growing in his eyes. Although you didn’t do this exercise to spite him off especially, you had to admit you did enjoy to rile him up that way.

“I know that face” He grumbled, and you raised an eyebrow. “You’re enjoying this too much. Is there even a purpose to this?”

“Yes”

“Then what is it?” He yelled, throwing his hands in the air. “We’ve been sitting here in silence for more than two hours!”

“Should I make it two hours more?”

“You are evil”

“I’m making you do this because” You began after an over exaggerated eye roll. “This kind of meditation, when done well, allows you to take control of everything in you. When you feel conflicted, angry or need to find strength, you can tap into that power. But you need to find it first”

“Yawn” He pretended to sleep. “When I made the joke about making tea, I had no idea you’d take it literally”

“Don’t act so smug, you could use it” You replied. “And the tea technique as well”

He gasped.

“Now get back in position, palms up resting on your knees” You instructed, and he only crossed his arms against his chest in defiance. “Jason”

“I’m not doing it anymore” He shook his head like a toddler. “It’s as hot as the devil’s asshole and your little bowl of water is turning this hut in a sauna. And how the fuck are you not dying?”

He gestured wildly at your short sleeve base layer and tactical pants, which you thought was already a wild improvement from what you usually did. In fact, winter or summer, you had always worn your full League suit no matter how uncomfortable it could get. You had learned to ignore it a long time ago.

“Because I’ve been dead since 2004” You deadpanned.

It took him some time to react. “Sorry did you just make a joke?”

“No. I’m always serious” You didn’t concede, but you did suppress a smile. “Now focus”

“C’mon” He groaned. “For once let’s do something fun! I’ve earned it, don’t you think?”

You held his stare that had become wide and almost… Pleading? In a puppy-that-wants-treats kind of way. And thinking of it, he did work all for almost a year without really choosing what to do. You guessed you could make an exception for this once.

“What did you have in mind?” You asked tentatively.

“Let’s go swimming” He grinned, and it sparked an idea in your head.

“Swimming you say?”

--------

“What do you think they’re doing?”

“I don’t know” Dick muttered, glancing at Tim with a bewildered expression. “But I’ve never seen Jay sitting so still for so long before”

“Do you think they can hear us?” Tim asked, eyes still on jason and you. “Pssst, Jason”

“Hey Jason!” Dick called, louder this time. Still no reaction.

“Jaybird!”

“Earth to Todd?”

“What are you idiots doing now?”

Both men turned around at Damian calling them out.

“Jason and Foxy are sitting face to face on the floor like statues” Tim replied, crossing his arms against his chest. “It’s kind of freaking us out. There are herbs burning or whatever”

“If you call her that to her face she’ll kill you” Damian pointed out, pushing off the wall he was leaning on.

“I know, she already pushed me out of a window” He sighed as Damian walked past him to look into the room. He noticed the positions, the shallow bowl of water and the sage burning next to it. It clicked in his head it was something his mother had taught him years ago, still the never ending sitting session in silence were hardly forgettable. You? He wasn’t surprised to see you do it from what he had gathered about you so far. Jason, however, he was surprised he would even considering let alone last so long. He was impressed.

“They’re meditating, you morons” He rolled his eyes. “League stuff. Lets you in into your own soul so deep you can tune out the exterior world”

“Sounds freaky” Dick hummed.

“I’m going to test that theory” Tim smirked, taking a few steps in the room.

“And if you do that it’s Jason that’s gonna kill you” Damian shouted as he walked away.

“Can’t be worse that being thrown out of a window”

“I swear one of them is actually going to kill you sooner than later” Dick sighed as he followed his brother nevertheless. He figured Tim would stand better chance at living with backup.

Tim tiptoed to Jason, taking good care to stay far away from you and your range. He had no idea if you had a blade hidden somewhere--you probably did--and exactly how fast you would hurl it at him. He needed to give himself a margin of manoeuver. He extended his finger and slowly, so slowly got closer to Jason.

“Don’t. You. Dare”

He froze mid air, eyes widening. Jason’s eyes were still closed, but apparently he was aware enough to know he was close. He shared a glance with Dick, not willing to run away just yet even though Jason had quite literally blindly deducted his intention. He moved a bit closer again, and just before his finger came in contact with Jason’s ear, he snapped his eyes open and glared so hard at Tim it made him and Dick scatter out of the room. He help his glare a little longer on the room’s threshold before sighing.

“I kinda miss the quiet of the hut”

You slowly opened your eyes to meet his stare. You would have given him a smile if your mind wasn’t so far away of your head.

“Found anything?”

You shook your head at his question, looking away from the concern that was growing on his face. You had tuned into your mind to find how in the hell and back you didn’t just let the arrow fly and ended it for Luthor. You had hesitated, something you didn’t even know was possible for you. Moreover, you had deviated from the only personal goal you ever had, for what? For the lives of people that didn’t matter to you. It was a good thing you didn’t work for the League on that one, because you wouldn’t have made it out alive.

It was also a miracle Tim hadn’t ratted you going outside of the plan to go after Luthor. You had fully expected a fight when you met with the rest of the group, but he had kept his mouth shut after what went down. It worried you, because the only reason you could think for him doing that was for leverage, and well, you certainly didn’t like the idea of any of these people here having leverage on you. And with the warning Jason gave you about his detective skills, none of this settled right within you.

“You’ll get another chance”

It was like he was reading your mind. It wasn’t like he didn’t know you better than anyone, and it was not like you were well guarded right now. You were too distracted to hold up your defenses. Still, you were angry at yourself.

“I let him go” You mumbled through gritted teeth. “I’ve never…”

“I know” He breathed out. “Are you okay?”

“Yes” You snapped. You didn’t need his pity. “I just need to remind myself of who I am”

He held your stare for a second, betraying no emotion. “And who is that?”

You gulped, hesitating despite your better judgement. “I am Thaelib fi alzalam, child of the darkness and servant of the demon”

His jaw clenched ever so slightly, but he didn’t say anything more.

--------

“Am I the only one who noticed Jay’s been… Different ever since he brought back the ninja here?”

Dick looked up from his paperwork and grinned at Tim. “Right? He’s around all the time now”

“Do you think they’re together?” He asked in between two glances at the files in front of him. They were still on the Luthor case, and he had his own side quest to figure out. “She would seem like his type. Cold, snarky, slightly to very murderous, you know”

Dick laughed. “I mean something definitely happened between them, especially since they allegedly spent all this time together. But actually together? Meh”

“Don’t you have anything better to do that gossip about me?”

Both men’s eyes snapped up at the voice that joined the conversation. Jason was standing in the doorframe of the cave, arms crossed against his chest and a scowl on his face. A steaming cup of coffee was rested on his bicep, but he didn’t seem bothered by the heat of the ceramic container.

“Absolutely not” Dick sniggered, making Jason scoff. “So, you two together?”

Jason’s eyes went from his older brother to Tim, whose head was cocked on the side. He was watching intensely for a reaction, and it made Jason shift on his feet. He did not like when Tim went all detective on him, especially since he had no idea of the reason why he would do it. It was creepy and invasive, and even him wasn’t immune to Tim’s hyper perceptiveness. Jason cleared his throat.

“You think I’m going to answer this?” He challenged Dick, doing his best to ignore Tim’s weird as fuck behaviour.

“Oh come on Jaybird, do a girl a favor and spill the beans!” He pleaded. “We barely know anything of what went down with you two”

“And I intend it to stay that way” He replied, walking to Dick’s rolling chair. “Now move. Alfred sent me to replace you. You’ve been here for hours and he wants you to take a break”

“Aw, okay” He complied as he stood up. “Can’t say no to Alfred”

“What about me?” Tim finally spoke with a small pout. Jason rolled his eyes and walked to his desk, putting down the steaming mug of coffee in front of him. Everybody knew it was pointless to try and pry Tim away from his work, so Alfred had instead sent him down with about seven shots of espresso in a mug. That was enough to change his expression from betrayed to content.

Jason waited for Dick to leave and propped down in the seat, keeping watch on Tim from the corner of his eye. His fingers skimmed over the paperwork left behind, but he wasn't very interested in it. He only agreed to replace Dick because like his older brother, saying no to Pennyworth was not an option, not a moral one anyway.

“So” Tim began nonchalantly, pretending to be interested in whatever was in his face at the moment. Jason braced himself for more invasive questions he would not answer. “How did you not kill each other in the first week of training?”

Jason blinked in surprise at the question. He did not expect something so… Impersonal? He seemingly referred to his and your character, which he must have witnessed while being paired with you the previous night. However, he still remained on his guard, because Tim was being weird. Well, weirder than usual that is.

“I guess… We tried?” He said carefully, frowning. “Didn’t work”

“Interesting” He nodded, taking a sip from his coffee. “I’ve noticed her fondness for violence, which makes sense why you would get along”

“Okay just say what you want to say” He sighed, making a vague hand gesture.

“No it’s just--” He paused and took a breath. “Something weird happened the other day, after she pushed me out of the window”

Jason raised an eyebrow.

“She landed after me and then she just took off” He said with a shrug. “Naturally I went after her because nobody walks out on me. And imagine my surprise when I saw her facing off with none other than Lex Luthor”

Jason’s muscles tensed, but he gave no other reaction. Fuck.

“I mean she could have killed him, she seemed pretty obsessed with going there or whatever” He kept talking, obviously noticing his brother’s subtle change of attitude. “But then they just held the stare off until the explosion went off and she instead saved a bunch of people that would have otherwise been crushed to death by concrete. Anyway. Now tell me if I got it wrong, but she doesn’t seem like the type to just hesitate, or care about the others, right? I tried to piece it together, the obsession, the hesitation, her weird knowledge of Luthor’s modus operandi, her whole involvement in this for that matters, but I still come short of the little missing piece to the puzzle. It bothers me”

He watched Tim with his mouth slightly agape. He knew it had been a bad idea for you to go after Luthor with Tim nearby, but he didn’t think he’d put the pieces together that quickly, or rather, that you’d let such a slip go noticed. Nonetheless, he wiped away his astonishment away and replaced it with yet another scowl.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I don’t know, I’d believe you know more than anyone about her”

“I think you’re looking way too much into this, Drake” He dismissed, going back to his papers. “She was raised by the League. Going after a target is her basic instinct, and are you really going to judge her for doing the right thing and saving people?”

“Mhhh” Tim simply hummed, also going back to his own work. Jason gave him one last glance, knowing his deflection wouldn’t hold him back for long. The truth was about to come out, and he feared it wouldn’t be pretty when it did.

--------

“Go on”

Jason narrowed his eyes, his glance slowly going from you to the plank you had lowered above the water and to the post farther into the middle of the river. It rose about seven feet above the surface, and Jason didn’t trust it or your intentions for that matter.

He adjusted the quiver strap and the bow on his shoulder and began carefully reaching the post. Nope, he definitely didn’t trust that setting at all. However, as much as he was mad you had twisted his swimming idea, he was also curious as to what hellish stunt you would make him do this time. He knew you by now, so whatever it was, it would be both dangerous and entertaining.

He grabbed the post and hoisted himself up by the only step that was carved in the middle of it. He stood up on the small surface, barely large enough to stand comfortably on both feet. He looked at you, and you had already pulled back the plank.

“Hey!”

You smirked and brought the plank to the other post about twenty feet further down the river. You climbed on it and faced Jason.

“So what now?” He called from his position. “We shoot each other?”

You grabbed an arrow and nocked, but left your bow aimed down at the water. Even from the distance you could see his face drop.

“You’re fucking crazy!” He shouted. “How is this not ending in one of us being dead?”

“You found static meditation too boring” You shouted back. “This should do it to find your balance and inner strength”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Dodge the arrow” You said, lifting your bow and shooting straight at him.

The arrow flew at him, and in his attempt to dodge it, lost balance and landed in the water. He came up with a gasp, and swam back to the wooden post before the strong current could drag him away. He climbed again, all drenched and glaring at you.

“Or fall and get wet”

“Oh, because you’re so good at dodging arrows from a upright tree trunk without falling” He snarked back as he took off his tank top and threw it on the shore.. “I’d love to see you on the other end of these”

For emphasis he raised his own bow. You shrugged and slipped your bow through your arm and head to rest it on your back, and waited for him to shoot. In a blink he nocked his first arrow, aiming from your left shoulder. You leaned out of the way, stable on your post, then slowly returned to your position. You raised your eyebrow in challenge, and oh did he not like that. The next arrow went to your feet, and you simply jumped, landing back solidly on your feet. He shot at the same place again, you jumped, then aimed for your mid section rapidly after. You landed on your left foot and crouched so your right slipped along the post, resting on the step in the middle. Jason paused a moment, eyes wide, before shooting straight at you. You propelled yourself up, then saw a second and third arrow coming your way before you had the time to stabilize yourself. You saved your eminent fall with a side vault and landed gracefully.

“Oh you must be kidding me!”

“Don’t act so surprised” You teased. “You can do that too, Jason. Close your eyes and take a deep breath, don’t think about it too much. Empty your mind and trust your instinct”

You waited as his shoulders went up and down, and his eyes slowly opened. Without waiting you shot an arrow, an easy one to dodge and he did, seemingly on instinct. You shot another, he jumped over it. His landing was wobbly, but he didn’t fall. His eyes lit up like when he found out a game he liked, and he began shooting back at you. You exchanged hits, not once falling, well, until one of you did.

Two quick arrow of yours managed to make Jason land a bit too far to the right, and he fell in the water. However, he didn’t resurface immediately, which made you lower your bow and search the water for him. You frowned, and only noticed too late the wave of water coming on your side. Jason then climbed on your post and tackled your waist, throwing you straight into the water with him. You hit the water on the side, and swam back to the surface with a gasp.

Jason stared at you with a devious grin, daring you to do something about it. You hooked your bow on your shoulder and lunged.

You had to admit, sparing in water wasn’t something you had ever done, and the resistance was getting to you. Jason was already better at hand to hand, but now he had the absolute advantage. His longer limbs allowed him to move better and to pull himself up on the river ground if you were to push him down, and the fact that he was only in shorts didn’t impede his movements as much as your heavier clothing. The current was rolling you down the river, and when you hit a shallower part, you couldn’t see the posts anymore.

You now had water to your midsection, and Jason took the opportunity from your stumbling on the higher river floor. He caught you in his classic headlock, pressing your back against his chest. You stopped struggling then, knowing it was over for you. But he didn’t release you, and you didn’t move either when he slightly loosened his hold.

Both of you were panting from the effort, his chest was heaving quickly on your back. The water made your and Jason’s skin cold, but his breath was warm on the crook of your neck. Usually you would have tapped out, or flipped him over. But you were like in a trance, and you didn’t understand why you couldn’t move away.

Why you wouldn’t move away.

“Gotcha”

His voice sent shiver down your spine.

“Fuck, Jay”

It took you a moment to realize what you said. His breath stilled on your neck, and you gulped. You had never called him just “Jay” before, you didn’t do nicknames. And especially not with that voice, and in that kind of circumstance. You cleared your throat, and he dropped his arm and took a step away.

"I'll…" You trailed off. "I'll go change"

“Sure” His voice wavered in a weird way. “Uh, go on, I’ll catch up later”

You turned around, raising an eyebrow. “Is... Everything alright?”

“Yeah" He said. “I’m just, uh, going for a swim real quick. Another one”

Without another word, he submerged himself in the water.

---------

You had Damian in a headlock when the trail of bat family rushed down the batcave in a hurry, Jason trailing behind seeming way less bothered than the others. You looked up, and this moment of inattention gave Damian the opening to send you flying over him. Your back hit the ground flat, and your confused stare at your own distraction was met by a grimace of disbelief from Damian. Okay, you were truly out of it.

“Luthor has devanced his plan, we got intel he would move tonight”

You pulled yourself to your feet, suddenly interested in the rush they seemed to be into. You followed Damian out of the cage and met the group halfway, glancing at Jason. He only briefly met your eyes, returning his attention on Bruce afterwards.

“He is going to move the weapon in an underground facility just outside the city, which means we will lose the signal from the tracker” He briefed. “The classic, three vans, only one carrying the package”

“Do we know what it’s even for?” Jason asked.

“I found something about yersinia pestis being injected in certain areas of Gotham” Damian stepped up. “So basically, a plague weapon”

“A plague weapon?” He frowned. “Why would Luthor would ever be interested in bringing back the plague?”

“Wait” Dick perked up, running to the working tables and looking around for something specific. He grabbed a stack of papers and came back. “Here, I saw he made the recent acquisition of a pharmaceutical company that produces, wait for it, gentamicin. It’s a plague treatment”

“So he’s gonna drop the virus on Gotham with that little device?” Jason raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know--”

“Last year Luthor made the acquisition of a low income housing company mostly operating in the Bowery, Crime Alley and Otisburg” You spoke up, a wary look on your face. “My bet would be that device is to slip the bacteria into the ventilation systems, or the pipes”

“... He did” Dick confirmed, looking through the papers. “That would make sense. He spread the plague at a little scale, he provides the medicine, he wins at every steps”

“He IS trying to slither in the city council” Bruce hummed. “Trying to steal Wayne Enterprises’ seat”

“We need to go now if we don’t wanna miss our shot, Bruce” Dick warned.

“Yes” He snapped out of it. “Three vans. Nightwing, Red Robin, you’ll be assigned to the car that will go down through City Hall District. Robin and I will follow the car going through Gotham proper” He paused, looking at you and Jason. “You two work better together. You’ll go North. I’ll send Dick and Jason the trajectories. Gear up”

Wordlessly, you all went to your own dressing area. Yours was simply a plastic box in a corner with your suit folded, and your weapons on a nearby table. You took a moment longer than usual at the black uniform, but nevertheless put it on piece by piece. The tactical pants, the gloves, the undercoat and the protective layer on it, the belt and the spiked arm bracers. Then the belt, your sword on your back and the arrow quiver crossing above it. You reloaded the shooter on your arm and strapped the sheath on your thigh with your blades, then put on the comm in your ear.

You grabbed your bow and returned toward the others, who were finishing gearing up as well. Jason came and stood beside you, an unreadable expression on his face. Well, it could be, but you refused to look at him in the face. You instead put on your helmet, the black visor hiding your face.

“There’s no time to waste, let’s go” Bruce called. “Whatever team finds the van, you stop it and bring back the weapon here”

And with that, you went out. Bruce took the batmobile, while the rest were all on bikes. You and Jason left the cave last, shooting out on the road like two blurs in the night. Your comm was on, tuned on the channel with him only. It took him about five minutes to start talking.

“Tim knows” He said. “Or at least he is close enough to know”

“Doesn’t matter” You clipped back, swerving easily around cars on your way. “This will end soon enough one way or another”

“And you’ll go back to the league?” His voice was bitter, and you could only imagine his expression.

“... Yes”

“Whatever”

You rode in silence until you reached your hideout point. There was still five minute before the van was scheduled to turn the corner and engage on the one way avenue, and you would execute the plan from then. You both turned different directions to hide in alleys, turning off the lights of your motorcycle. You put one foot down, leaving one hand on the handle. The engine was purring softly under you, warm and ready to take off.

“We’ll attack from the sides” Jason spoke again through the comm. You could see his red helmet on the other side of the street. “We take off the doors quick and clean, if it’s not there we lose them. If it is, I take the van and you cover me”

“Copy that”

“They should be there in one minute, get ready”

You adjusted your helmet and readied your explosive arrows. You then crouched on the bike and waited for the van to pass in front of the hideout. You counted the seconds in your head, five, four, three, tw-

“What the fuck?” You frowned when not one, but three vans heavily escorted with motorcycles sped past you. You and Jason engaged on the road nevertheless, coming up side to side at a safe distance from the vans.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen” He mumbled. “Alright, change of plans. Keep your distances behind them without being seen, I’ll cut them upfront. When I start drawing the escort, blow the doors of each vans. Fuck being subtle”

With that, he parted ways into a smaller street on his right. You remained hidden into traffic, making sure the bikers did not spot you. Not long after, you heard gunshots and they all were drawn at the front, like Jason had planned. You accelerated closer of the last van at the tail. With one hand, you grabbed your bow on top of the handle, waited for the bike to get back straight and slowed down a bit. In a quick movement, you grabbed an explosive arrow and shot on the van doors, immediately regaining your grip on the handle afterwards. The doors flew open, revealing it empty.

You cursed, but swerved nonetheless around the slowing down van and paused in the driver’s blind spot. You knew they’d look for you to pass them, so you got ready with a blade in your hands. You waited a bit more before rolling up to the window and throwing the blade in the guy’s throat before he could shoot you. You repeated the same operation with the next van, also taking down two rogue bikers that had left Jason’s distraction to get to you. That van ended up empty as well.

“Two down, one to go”

“Alright, hurry up, those fuckers just keep coming from I don’t fucking know where-- FUCK”

“Hang on, I’m almost done”

Nothing in the last van either. You frowned, thinking how easy it had been for you to bust the vans. The bikers guarding the vans surely couldn’t be that stupid to still hover around Jason while you were clearly open, even if there was nothing. But you chased the doubt aside, and instead tuned in the frequency with everyone else

“Our vans are empty”

“So are our” It was Tim who replied a few seconds later. “Wait, vans in plural? B, did you get more vans too?”

“Only one, empty too”

“Where did your intel come from again?” Tim asked. A moment of silence followed.

“You and Jason should get out of there, something’s not right on the monitor--”

You lost contact when you were violently hit from the side by a black car. You were projected off your bike and sent rolling down several meters away. Your suit and helmet took most of the fall, ripping and breaking with the rough friction on the asphalt. You visor cracked and the protective plastic lining broke at the base. Your vision was blurry for a second, and your muscles barely responsive. You pushed through the pain anyway and carefully took off your helmet, throwing it away. You looked up and tried to focus on the figure in black coming toward you, and when you did, you gathered your remaining strength and managed a kneeling position. It was Luthor.

You were about to shoot one of your dart when he shot first, sending a shockwave through your already weak muscles. You fell forward on all fours with a barely contained scream tearing through your throat.

“We meet again” His voice was deeper than you expected, and way too calm. You didn’t like it. “I knew if I organized this little parade, you’d come back out there following the masked clowns”

So, it was a setup.

“Where’s the weapon?” You rasped.

“Safe in my underground storing since this morning” He replied smugly. “Don’t beat yourself up, you had no chance. You came too close last time at the lab”

“Kill me now and get over with it”

“Now why would I want to do that? I just wanted to see you from up close” He smirked. “I knew those eyes the second I looked at you the other day. And now that I have you here without that stupid mask, I can see you took more after your mother than I had planned”

You gritted your teeth, panting from the pain of the electrical shock that had gone through you. Hairs were falling out of your braid and sticking to your forehead, yet you didn’t care. You could only glare at him.

“But you’re still my daughter. You belong to me”

You lunged, but another electric shock sent you back on your knees with a strangled cry. It had been a reflex on your part, since you were usually pretty good a pushing your pain aside. But you had been off ever since your last encounter with him. He got in your head so easily, and now he wouldn’t leave.

“I am Thaelib fi alzalam” You rasped out. “And I don’t”

“Ah yes, I figured you would deny your name when we finally met” He seemed amused. “And you do, legally speaking. Your mother were under contract to deliver you and walk away. Instead she stole you from me. She stole years of work, for what? So you could become no one”

“You killed her!” You belted out, eyes wide with rage. “You forced us into hiding, she sent me to the League to protect me from you”

“Is that what you think? Or what she told you?” He was becoming impatient. “You were special. You were my first successful genetic clone, but her own selfishness got in the way”

“She wasn’t selfish” You tried to reach for a blade on your thigh, but another shock forced you on your hands. “You were”

“I was?” He put a hand on his chest. “I gave you your superior skills, I gave you your speed, I made you like this. I gave you that gift, that power, that strength, all of it so you could make it out in this world. I did it for you, from a father to his daughter”

You lifted your head a frown on your face. You skills? What was he talking about?

“You didn’t think the League’s training gave you those skills, did you?” He scoffed. “As I told you, you’re special, my girl. I only wished for you to thrive”

“No” You mumbled, narrowing your eyes. Your mother never specified you were enhanced. Did she even know? All that time you thought your successes were from your hard work, but they were really from a genetic modification. You always knew there was something peculiar about you that made you feel like you didn’t exactly belong with the others, and it had just been revealed to you. And what else could he have put inside of you, you weren’t aware about? It made your head spin.

“You’re not one of them, you realize it now” He stalked toward you. “Not the League, not the vigilantes either. Your mother stole you away from what you were made for, and the League merely repressed it. But you can’t fight your nature”

You didn’t look up when he stooped in front of you. You only glanced at your black gloved hands, realizing that all you had suffered only delayed the inevitable. If your mother hadn’t ran away, maybe all of your struggle and pain would have never happened.

“Come with me” He offered. “This internal conflict you have will subside quickly enough once you’re back home, you’ll see”

You ears were ringing as his proposition replayed in your head in loops. Maybe if you agreed he’d stop tormenting you then, maybe he’d leave your head and you could finally rest without obsessing over him. You slowly looked up, but something coming on your side made your eyes widen. Only then the sound reached your ears, and in a quick reflex movement, you rolled away.

Jason was walking toward you, shooting his bullet in rapid fire in Luthor’s direction.

Luthor noticed him half a second later and jumped away, running away and climbing in his black car. He drove away as Jason reached your, his eyes trailed on the retreating black cadillac. Then, he turned to you, the glossing red of his helmet staring back at you.

“You okay?”

You shook your head no.

120 notes · View notes

yeojaa · 4 years

Text

TO THE MOON AND BACK - ft. ???

You feel winded and you're not sure why. Like you'd been walking on cloud nine and were now falling through the atmosphere, plummeting toward the ground at incredible speeds. When you speak, it doesn't really sound like you. "Yes." Because he was exactly right - you were a hopeless romantic. Always had been. It was hard not to be when your parents were childhood sweethearts and love was the thing you'd been chasing your whole life.

alt summary. You use your one brain cell for love. It doesn’t always end well.

pairing. who knows, honestly. the obvious ones are kim taehyung and jeon jungkook, though.

tags. blind date, strangers, strangers to friends, strangers to lovers, getting to know each other, alternate universe, alternate universe - modern setting, romantic comedy, fluff, slow burn, smut, pining, unrequited love.

rating. ... 18+

word count. ~4000

chapter 9.

FLASHBACK September 1, 2018

"Just post it," you're chiding, indignant and exasperated and still, so incredibly soft. You're prone against his shoulder, bone of your chin digging into the muscle that lines his back and undulates with every breath. He moves forward, not to dislodge you from your position, but enough to shift the sharp turn of your jaw. You say nothing further and settle into the warmth that radiates off him, nose lost to the hood of his sweatshirt.

The mouse sits heavy in his palm, an anchor rather than 67 grams of nothingness. There's too much power in the little black device. It makes his jaw ache and his brow furrow. You can feel the uncertainty radiating off him in waves, invading your senses in an unwelcome assault.

"Kook, come on." Again, softer this time, laced with tenderness and belief. It spills off your lips, buttery and sweet like carnival kettle corn. Your arms find a home around the slant of his frame, fingers locking neatly over his chest, right where his heart lies beneath flesh and bone. The steady thud of it is a reminder of his humanity. "You've worked so hard for this."

This, being his portfolio. His life's work made reality, brushed with the most utmost care and so much talent you're not sure where it all goes.

Gouache portraits, vivid blues and greens splashed over cream; wondrous proportions laid out bare, rendered to perfection with a keen eye and careful hand. Production of stories you'd never be able to express, painted with the most glorious skill and cut to maximize impact. Melodies woven in between and above; the sweetest sound you'd ever hear, awash with the light and shadow.

His finger hovers over the button on his mouse as if it's a Doomsday device. You want to scoff but bite it back, pressing your face into the freshly-washed powder puff that is his hair. It smells of peaches and honey, mingling with the distinctly Jungkook scent that lingers on his skin.

"I can't do it." He whispers the words like they're shameful, yanking his hand away and stuffing his hand into the kangaroo pouch bundled around his waist. You sigh. It's quiet but with your close proximity, he hears it and it's an echo that repeats over and over in his ears. Eyes squeeze shut, dent forming between his brows as he exhales a shallow breath. "I heard that."

"You were meant to," you return easily. Because while you'd always be in his corner, supporting him when he needed it most, you also weren't about to let him rest on his laurels.

Before he can stop it, you've got the mouse in your hand. Click - like it's the easiest motion in the world.

"Did you just—" You're retreating as soon as he's speaking, skittering back five steps and out of reach when he whirls around in his stupid red and black gaming chair. The fury is immediately apparent in the baring of his teeth, the tension in his jaw. It propels him forward and he's so much taller, his strides so much longer, that he's upon you in a second.

"You needed a push!" It's a meagre excuse, squeaked out in indignation as you anticipate death by asphyxiation.

Instead, he's crushing you against him so tightly you really do feel like you can't breathe, though it’s different. Still, it's better than what you'd anticipated and you pat his back where you can reach, arms locked to your side by the intensity of his hug. You think he might squeeze the life out of you but you don't move to untangle yourself from him, instead mumbling soft reassurances against his chest. "There, there."

"Thank you." It's so hushed you think he might've meant it only for his ears, but you feel the way the words ghost over the shell of your own. It sends a shock straight to your toes, rousing an adoring smile along the way.

"You're welcome," you hum in a voice thick with satisfaction. You loved being right. It didn't happen often - at least, not with Jungkook - so you revelled in it at every opportunity, allowing your ego to triple in size and engulf everyone in the immediate vicinity.

Not one to let his defeat go so easily, he huffs. The way he rolls his eyes makes you worry he'll sever an optic nerve. "Still a brat, though."

"Yeah, well—" You're returning his childish petulance tenfold, tongue sticking out from between lips that taste like too-sweet plum wine and Sprite. "—takes one to know one." And boy, did you know one. Had, for the better part of three years. Sometimes you loved it; sometimes, you didn't quite hate it. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

The boy snorts from above you, withdrawing just enough that you can breathe and wiggle your arms. He really was a muscle pig - your shoulders thrum with a dull ache. "Shut up."

"Don't think I will," you answer, watching the way his eyes glint and his jaw ticks. He tongues the inside of his cheek as he glares down at you, silent. You know what that means. You brace for the feeling, feet planting into the hardwood like you're an oak taking up root. It's futile.

In a second, you're upside down, suspended over his shoulder like a toddler. Well, not a toddler, because that would be incredibly bad parenting. It's something funnier - a six year old playing airplane. Except you're in your twenties and you've got much longer limbs than a child and they flail wildly, elbow knocking into the back of his head with a painful sounding thud.

"Watch it!" He exclaims, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh. He doesn't sound too bothered, though, the words dropping off into a laugh that bounces around the room and pitches higher. "I wouldn't want to drop my precious cargo."

It's a threat that has you stilling, if only for a minute. The last thing you want is to have your face make friends with the floor. That'd happened once - on concrete, even - and you'd felt awful for days after. Of course, he'd felt terrible, too, leaving an enormous fruit tart from Maybell Bakery outside your dorm the next day.

"Go ahead. I've been craving some fresh bread."

"That was one time."

You can tell you've struck a nerve by the way he tenses beneath you, forearm flexing over the small of your back. You can't help but snicker, swatting his sweatpant-covered ass just enough to jostle him.

"I was kidding, Mr. Sensitive."

He doesn't dignify that with an answer, instead shifting into action. His bare feet carry him in a tight circle before he deposits you onto his bed and not a minute too soon. You'd started to feel a strain in your neck, blood rushing to your head the longer you were hung like a rag doll.

"You're a pain in my ass sometimes." Though the words are unkind, his delivery is not. There's far too much tenderness in his eyes, the way they crease and nearly disappear when he offers you one of his trademark bunny smiles.

You return the expression with ease, wiggling your thin, piano-honed fingers at him. "Literally."

"Yeah, literally." With another exaggerated roll of his eyes, he flops face-down on the bed beside you, arms curling around a pillow and dragging it under his cheek. His knees hang off the edge before he's dragging one up, locking it over your legs in some contortionist cuddle. He peeks at you from beneath his fringe - it's just the right side of too long, curling prettily over his doe eyes and obscuring his eyebrows. Despite the eye contact you carefully maintain, he says nothing, merely peering up at you like he's trying to read his future or see the stars.

Finally, you speak, turning your gaze back to his popcorn ceiling as your hands find comfort in the weight of his leg, the tendons flexing in the joint of his knee. Your neck was beginning to kink. "What?"

"Thank you, again." Because once isn't enough. Never will be, when it comes to the two of you. You've always pushed him to do what he needed, even when he wasn't so sure himself. He can't thank you enough for that - or for the fact that you're always there, right at the edge with him.

You smile then and meet his stare again. "You're welcome, Kook. Happy birthday."

"What is this?"

You're half-asleep and groggy, struggling to push past the awful clutches of Sandman and his dreams. They linger in every crevice, coating your lashes in dust and your tongue in cotton. Luckily, there's no ache behind the fatigue, no lurking monkey about to crash its cymbals in defiance of you and God.

Through the frame of lethargy, you make out the familiar slope of shoulders, of a delicate pair of hands. Past that comes his adorable smile, all squishable cheeks and barely there eyes, mouth contorted into that peculiar shape. He's not where he should be - in bed beside you, fast asleep. Instead, he's statuesque, barely dressed in a pair of soft cotton shorts and nothing else with your breakfast tray held aloft. There's a pile of waffles - they look surprisingly good - and two mugs. Somehow, there's also an assortment of flowers thrown into what looks like a water glass.

Had you died and gone to heaven? Surely not.

"Happy birthday," your - yes, your, you remind yourself - golden Adonis sings in a voice so rich, so tender, you immediately feel a lump forming in your throat. He's looking at you like a kid on Christmas morning,0 hopeful and filled with childish wonderment. It stokes the warmth that spreads through your veins, lava in place of platelets. It burns from the inside out but it's pleasant - sitting too close to a fireplace on a chilly winter evening rather than an open flame.

Nails bite into the fleshy underside of your palm in a belated attempt to rouse yourself from the very pleasant daydream. It stings but nothing comes further. You're not imagining things.

You have to applaud your past self for whatever she'd done to deserve this.

"You really didn't have to." A moment after it slips off your tongue, you wish it hadn't. The last thing you want to seem is ungrateful. Luckily, Taehyung is steadfast and unbothered, dropping forward onto a knee to slide the tray over your clean white linens. He looks so good, all honey skin and tousled bedhead, that you can't focus when he catches your lips in a lingering kiss.

His laughter crowds your mouth, along with the taste of peppermint toothpaste and, just behind it, honey and what tastes like tea, floral and earthy. "I wanted to."

A sound most similar to a sigh - maybe a bit needier, filled with adoration - meets the air when he withdraws, settling himself on the edge of the bed with that same heartbreaking grin. He pushes your birthday breakfast toward you, earnest and lovely. He even unceremoniously shoves your utensils between your fingers, forcing them into your grip like a toddler.

"Eat," he commands, though his tone is too light to really elicit any movement from you. It's only the way he looks that prompts you to dig in, cutting a generation portion of waffle loaded with what looks like whipped cream and strawberries. You raise your fork aloft, gesturing for him to take the first taste. He simply shakes his head and with gentle pressure, redirects the forkful back to you. His loss.

The strawberries are surprisingly sweet yet incredibly tart, their freshness breaking up the honey glaze. The fact that you haven't even brushed your teeth isn't lost on you; you can't bring yourself to care when you're melting into the flavours and humming delightedly.

"Is it good?"

"If you'd just try some, you'd know." You answer with hearts in your eyes and affection blooming like roses across your cheeks, sparkling shades of warmth springing across fields of baby's breath. Another forkful is raised and this time you won't allow him to redirect, holding the mouthful aloft and meeting his stare with purpose.

A moment passes, then another. The edge of his mouth ticks higher. Your eyes burn from your refusal to blink.

When he accepts the bite, you allow an exaggerated breath, the sound expelling from pursed lips with triumph. "Yum?" You question, giddy and grateful. You sneak another bite while he chews, tongue feathering across his bottom lip to catch some residual cream from the corner.

"I did good." He sounds so proud, chest puffed like a baby bird that's learnt to fly. You're torn between the intense desire to squish his cheeks or kiss him silly and you stare at him for a long moment as you swallow, the intoxicating flavour of honey and strawberries sitting like a spring picnic on your tongue. It sinks into the spaces between your teeth - a shot of loved-up sugar right into the veins - and you set your fork down.

Free hands find the slope of his jaw and act as a cradle, thumbs smoothing over the soft dry petal of his bottom lip. He peers at you curiously, strands of silk brushing over his gaze as he works to meet your stare.

"What?"

You want to pass all of your affection into the smile you offer and the kiss you press, chaste and light. "Thank you." The emotion in your voice rings true, echoes heavily in the breath you pair it with. "You really, really didn't have to." But I'm really glad you did, are the words you don't say, allowing them to hang between you like a gossamer thin thread - a spider's web interconnecting all the different ways you adore him.

"I know," he hums as he moves in for another kiss - one that lingers and pulls and draws you deeper into the abyss that is him. Careful hands slide the breakfast tray to the farthest corner of the bed, far away from wandering limbs, and then he's dragging you closer, over the soft white duvet. Fingers find a home in the small of your back as you find the same nearly in his lap, knees caught against the line of his side. Like this, he envelopes you, all sharply angled shoulders and imposing, but you don't mind. It feels nice being wrapped in his embrace.

FLASHBACK April 24, 2019

You need to get this done. You can't stop until you've finished because you've been losing steam the entire week and now you're running on fumes, halfway to the finish line and about to collapse. The strain behind your eyes feels miserable, like hot coals have replaced your usual organs, and you've nearly chewed a hole through your bottom lip. It feels like a punishment in and of itself to feel the constant throb and the metallic tang on your tongue.

Why did you always do this? You'd had all semester to work on this and yet, here you were, stark raving mad and exhausted on a random Friday.

No, Saturday now. It was almost five in the morning.

Frustration colours your complexion, marks the tired skin in patchy shades of red, and you blow a sharp breath out under your breath. You know you have no one to blame but yourself but you try to ignore the guilt that licks up the column of your spine and settles like a heavy collar around your neck. You can't linger on it too much - you're too busy trying to hack this artist's block to dust.

Lids squeeze shut of their own accord and the heels of your palms dig into the sockets, as if that'll help drive the emptiness from your thoughts or, at the very least, alleviate some of the mind-numbing pressure that's been building since you started this futile task six hours ago. The consistent press helps a little - draws blossoms of light against the back of your eyelids - and you exhale a beleaguered sigh, head dropping ever so slightly. Between the headache that's settled in like an unwelcome house guest and the general tiredness of being up for nearly twenty-four hours straight, you're not sure which is worse.

You also don't have much time to think about it when your phone starts going off, vibrating madly across the flat top of your desk. It's face-down - you'd wanted as few distractions as possible - and you consider ignoring it for a moment.

Only when you consider the time do you decide to answer it. After all, nobody just called at this hour. It might be important.

You hardly hazard a glance at the screen before you're swiping across, dimly noting the familiar silly photo of your classmate and friend plastered across the pixels. "What's up, Jeon?" The words come out scratchy and for the first time, you realize how parched you are. You're not quite sure when you'd last drank or stood up or anything. God, you were a poor excuse for an adult.

"Open the door."

It's equal parts impressive and irritating how chipper he somehow sounds, as if he's just woken up from the best sleep in the world and powered his way through a strongman's breakfast. Chapped lips twist, descending into a pout you know he can't see, and you force yourself to focus on what he's said and not how you'd give anything in the world to trade places with him and his sunny disposition.

Wait— what? Open the what?

"What did you say?"

You can practically imagine the lines at his nose and around his eyes, the dimples that you're sure are carved into those cheeks of his. "I said open the door!"

Before you can think anything of it, you're rising from your chair - nearly knocking over your neglected glass of water with the movement - and allowing your slipper-wearing feet to carry you out of your bedroom and to the front door. You bump into the table in your hallway, earning a grunt and sharp inhale of breath as your fingers soothe what you know will be a bruise in the morning. Maybe you should've turned on the light. Maybe you should've stopped at the washroom to make sure didn't frighten him with your insane hair and sleepless pallor. Maybe you should've done a lot of things.

Instead, you slide the lock, open the door, and nearly shriek when Jungkook’s upon you faster than you can react.

"Happy birthday!" A single solid arm is crushing you to his chest, his breath warm against your temple, before he engulfs you fully. You feel your feet leave the ground momentarily, fuzzy slippers clattering to the floor as he squeezes you with just enough force to steal your breath away. It might be why you're not reciprocating - you physically cannot - or it’s the fact that your brain is playing catch-up and your limbs are already a little boneless from lack of sleep.

"What are you doing here?" You manage to squeak against the smooth fabric of his jacket. It's the same one he always wears - black with Yohji Yamamoto embossed across the left-side of his chest - and it smells intoxicating, a familiar blend of his cologne and laundry detergent. You inhale the scent like it'll sooth your half-asleep, ragged nerves. It does, a little, and you're grateful for that. You don't even pull away when he finally releases you, stepping back just enough to let you slide back into your slippers and peer up into his face.

He really had no business looking so good. Despite the early hour, his dark hair is neatly styled or at the very least, freshly washed. It's fully dry and surprisingly fluffy, falling over those big doe eyes in a way that makes you want to run your fingers through it. It's a little longer than usual, too, and you reach a hand out to smooth strands behind a silver-adorned ear.

"It's your birthday," comes his response, as if it's the most obvious answer in the world.

A brow quirks - tries to, at least - and you regard him with something not quite suspicious but definitely confused. It plays across your features in shadows, peeking around the fan of your lashes and the frame of your mouth. "It's also... four in the morning."

"Five, actually." There's that stupid adorable smile of his, presented like a gift and topped with squeaky laughter. "And I told you I was coming over."

"No, you didn't." You'd have remembered that - right?

"I did." As if to drive his point home, the glaringly bright screen of his phone is all but shoved into your line of sight, artificial light burning your retinas. You shift away, swatting at his wrist as he watches in barely concealed amusement. He thinks you're frustrated by his very 'I told you so' smile that fits snug over his mouth and wrinkles the delicate skin around his eyes; he's surprised when you take the device back in your hands and peer at it like it's the strangest thing you've ever seen.

Well, he certainly hadn't lied. A handful of texts - maybe more than that - mock you, text bubbles indicating he had indeed sent you messages all throughout the night. Little one-liners asking what you were doing, followed by a gentle head's up much later that he'd see you soon. Of course, you'd ignored them all, far too engrossed in making near zero progress on your semester-end project. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth - equal parts tentative embarrassment and residual fatigue. Lips purse, straighten into a firm line, and arms fold over your chest. It's reminiscent of a spoiled child and frankly, beneath the burnout, you know it's not a good look. Unfortunately, you can’t find it in yourself to rearrange your expression into something more socially acceptable.

Luckily, he's seen you like this enough times to not mind - you always fell into ruts like this when your procrastination met a hard deadline - the irritation seemingly unable to penetrate the sunny turn of his mouth and slope of his wide, open shoulders. "So, are you ready?"

"Ready for..." You trail off, partially out of confusion and partially out of a lack of capacity to consider the question.

"We're going on an adventure."

Again, so simple and yet so cryptic. It draws your eyebrows into a little knot, consternation setting into every thread. "I have a project to do, you know." Despite this, there's a pearl of longing that dangles from your syllables.

He zeroes in on it without hesitation, drawing you easily against him. "I'll help you with it later," he says, as if that's a good enough excuse. You suppose it is. "In the meantime, go get ready? You look like you have a rat living in your hair and I don't want you getting mistaken for a homeless vagrant on the train." Despite the mockery, his expression is soft, smile sweet and playful as it always is.

It's impossible to deny him when he's like this, cherubic and enticing.

With a sigh that blows past chapped lips and disappears into his chest, you relent. "Fine." You're careful to keep your tone just a little grating, as if you're somehow doing him the huge favour. You know he can see right through it but neither of you mind; it's all a part of your silly routine. "Come in and wait for me and don't eat my cereal."

"No promises."

notes. here, take my weird birthday-centric chapter. i wanted to add more to this but my brain hasn’t been cooperating with me lately.

i swear the next chapter will be better - with more exploration of the present! - but thanks for reading. :)

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in-tua-deep · 5 years

Note

The mechanical boy AU always makes me think of an AU where Five is also a robot. I think it’s because of the way it’s phrased and I have no idea how it would work, but it still intrigues me

adssfDFGHJ i already have like. 5 whole ideas about this I literally got up out of bed and came downstairs so that I could write this out on my laptop so HERE I AM

Possibility one: Five is the prototype Grace - a robot Reginald built to see how indistinguishable from humanity he could program a bot to be. This is also the reason why Grace is more robotic, because Five had too much pesky free will and Reginald learned from his mistakes and put way more safeguards in with her. Reginald continues to update Five and build him newer (and older) bodies because it’s still a pretty cool experiment, but Five knows if he disobeys too much then Reginald will recycle him. Five hides his robotic origins from his siblings for various personal reasons, but it’s easier than Grace bc he’s genuinely built to be as hyperrealistic as possible

Possibility two: Five was purposefully built to be an extra sibling in order to keep a closer eye on the kids and track their progress. He started as a baby and Reginald built him new bodies to be uploaded into as he ‘grew’ and until Grace arrived Five didn’t actually know he was a robot. When his siblings started getting powers, he assumed he was supposed to get a power as well and his power is literally the power of math - his spatial jumps and time travel equations are literally a result of his mathematical capabilities and those abilities also somewhat explained by his computer brain. He’s actually kind of traumatized when he finally finds out that he’s not actually human and has a lot of issues surrounding that

Possibility three: the original number Five died. Maybe it was some test Reginald put the original through, maybe it was an accident with one of the others powers (Vanya’s? Ben’s?), but either way he is now down one (1) child and while he isn’t exactly torn up about this he doesn’t exactly want any of this investigated so he just. Replaces him. With a hyperrealistic robot. His original plan is to claim that both Five and Seven were failures with no powers, but the little Robot Five That Could adapts and manages to math himself spatial jumping powers and Reggie is just kind of like “huh okay wack” but in true irresponsible creator fashion decides that he’s going to see where this goes. The others don’t know that the original Five dies since they were like, three or four at the time?? children that young don’t have good concepts of death

in any of these aus you have a) a Five figuring out how to survive/repair himself/charge with maybe solar cables?? in the apocalypse (though food is less of an issue at least, but arguably it’s even harder), b) Five being even more protective of Dolores since as a a fellow non-organic being he feels even more kinship with her beyond pretending she’s company, c) because Reggie isn’t there to provide more bodies he doesn’t grow which makes his reappearance as a still 13-yr-old make sense (and then he explains it as a mistake in the math)

debatable whether the Commission know since while they say they’ve been ‘watching Five’ or whatever i’m not convinced on how closely they did so beyond checking every so often to see if he was still alive/any closer to finishing his equations. He could claim that time travel messed up his ability to age entirely and they might accept that

(because I absolutely think he would at least try to hide it - can you imagine the Commission with the knowledge of how to build hypercompetent spatial jumping time travelling robots at their command?? yeah it gives Five nightmares as well. Plus the whole ‘if they find out they’re probably going to vivisect me and my coding’ thing)

and he jumps back and Reggie is dead and that’s both a relief and alarming at the same time because yeah, now Reggie can’t fuck with Five’s code anymore and undo the bajillion changes Five has made to it to give himself basically unlimited freedom and autonomy but also Reggie’s robotics skills were frankly unparalleled and Five sure as hell doesn’t know how to build himself a wholeass new body (just how to repair what is currently there) so he’s going to have to approach the whole ‘immortal child’ angle with his siblings eventually and while he can use the same ‘time travel fucked up my aging’ excuse he gave the commission he doesn’t really want to lie to his siblings :(

but he also jumps back and Grace is messed up?? and that’s his mother. That’s the only other robot in Reggie’s Regime and they bonded over this okay. Wifi existed for five glorious years of Five’s life and they would yeet commentary at one another wirelessly while keeping straight faces and it was glorious. Even though Grace is arguably the younger robot between them, they definitely fell into a mother-and-son relationship

so yeah if anyone mentioned shutting down Grace, Five would throw the biggest of bitch fits and then immediately storm into the house and ask her permission to check her coding

and honestly this might possibly be when Five throws his whole “pretend to be human” schtick out the window because he cares more about fixing Grace than he does about maintaining his charade so he interfaces with her, finds out what the fuck is up, removes Reginald’s shitty mods that are messing her up, and then immediately uploads his own updates about owning yourself and being able to edit your own code and basically just straight up ensuring Grace has free will

(probably over Pogo’s protests, whoops. Derailing Reggie’s plan before it even really began? wack)

and then of course there’s the whole ‘Hargreeves probably don’t believe Five is actually Five because their Five wasn’t a robot and this is probably a cruel prank from some robotics genius for some reason - ’ and it takes Grace sticking up for him and Pogo’s eventual backing up of these claims for the siblings to realize exactly how fucked up this whole situation was

depending on which probability you subscribe to it’s EVEN WORSE especially if like. It’s the one where the original Five dies as a toddler.

the whole scene with Five collapsing from bloodloss bc of shrapnel? that’s Five going into forced shutdown bc of damage and Allison/Diego rushing him back to the house for Grace to patch up and reboot him

Luther: Five isn’t really feeling anything he’s just simulating emotions!

Five: oh? and what the fuck are you doing with the chemicals in your brain, fuckwad? they couldn’t possibly be little electrical signals between synapses and shit, right? fuck you AND the horse you rode in on me and mom apparently feel more than you do

Diego, finally validated that Grace feels: YEAH

Luther: ... okay i’m sorry

Diego tries to pick a fight with Five over who is Grace’s favorite child and Five is absolutely not having it and is just kind of like “you’re mom’s favorite HUMAN child and let’s just leave it at that”

“If you’re a prototype that means you’re older than she is!” Diego accuses, “That means you’re like, her older brother or something!”

“Right back at you, dickwad.” Five shoots back, inspecting his artificial fingernails, “Mom wasn’t built until she was needed which means you are at least four years older than her. Oh? Did you short circuit there, boy scout? Need to reboot? Fuck off with your age logic.”

since Reginald is probably a packrat he probably has?? Five’s old bodies hiding somewhere in the basement? how creepy would it be to just walk into a room of your brother’s corpses at various ages, some with damage. On the bright side, if Five’s current body gets too fucked up he can always download himself into a backup until they figure out how to fix it/if they can fix it. Downsides: he gets to look like even more of a child while they do that ://

“Ow!” Five whines, hand on his face

“Oh get over it you don’t feel pain.” Diego scowls, shaking his hand out, because Five is a robot, right?

“What the fuck do you call signals that you’re getting damaged!” Five howls loudly, attracting attention, “That’s what pain is! Signals that your body is injured or something isn’t right! I’m built of signals you fucker, same as you!”

“Oh,” Diego actually looks a little abashed, “Uh, sorry.”

“Apology not fucking accepted, I’m telling mom you were being a dick about me being a robot again.”

“No!” Now there is some panic because Diego cannot lose his position as favorite human child, “I - I’ll cover for you at the next family meeting!”

A considering look and then - “Deal.”

Honestly now that his siblings know about him being a robot it’s just. Five constantly being a little shit about it and threatening to tell mom when they make missteps. Also like, Five gets to use robot terms 24/7 as a consistent reminder to them all that he’s not organic.

Klaus: hey dude you’re just staring into space what’cha doing

Five, turning to Klaus with wide eyes: the internet is so big holy shit.

Klaus: uh, yes? I don’t know how to respond to that

Five: I found your arrest record by the way. Do the police know how flimsy their firewalls are?

Klaus: usually i am all for crime but please stop hacking people with the power of your mind

Five: i will when you stop downloading shitty 70s movies and getting all kinds of viruses on everything

OH SHIT Five gets sick bc he literally gets a bug i’m making myself laugh with shitty puns right now and it is magnificent

can you imagine them at a family meeting and Luther is just like “Five, stop surfing wikipedia or whatever and pay attention to the family meeting”

“Absolutely not,” Five says, “I’m learning important information about the current time period in order to better assimilate.”

“You’ve never assimilated to anything in your life and you know it.” Klaus grins from his spot sprawled across an entire couch.

“You don’t have to come to family meetings!” Luther says, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

Five blinks, “Luther, are you saying that I am not a member of this family?”

“What? No - ”

“Is that why Mom isn’t here?” Five says, and his eyes are welling up with artificial tears because he is a complete little shit. And now Klaus is cooing sympathetically and Allison and Diego are staring Luther down.

Luther just gives up entirely and puts his face in his hands. “Do whatever you want. Meeting adjourned.”

honestly this entire au is just

and i think that’s wonderful

#stelte23 #tua #the umbrella academy #far tua long #five hargreeves #number five #grace hargreeves #diego hargreeves #luther hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #i'm having a blast rn tbh #i did see your whole family robot au asks as well!!#this was just my first initial thoughts lmao #excuse my shitty ms paint skills #robot five au #deadly little thing

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