#kimikos there just cause i love her

[mutants-r-us]

would anyone wanna read a godolkin university butchie au cause I got so many ideas just from the first 3 eps of gen v

#like ohhhhmygod #butcher isnt a supe and is like trying to tear up the system from the inside #we can have teleporter hughie #kimikos there just cause i love her #homelander is 'golden boy' #maeve and annie are roommates #but its still the same level of blood and guts as the regular show #hughie x butcher #butcher x hughie #billy butcher #butchie #hughie campbell #the boys #the boys tv #homicidal husbands

[reinieseason]

the boys’ writers are so smart, they picked the perfect plot of a spin-off. gen v is the perfect spin-off for the boys.

i say this because the two shows directly parallel each other in perspective.

in the boys, we follow humans who have been wronged by supes, which place most supes in an antagonist role, some with redeeming qualities but i feel like overall the boys paints supes in a negative light, save for exceptions like starlight and kimiko.

so the perspective that we spend 3 seasons with is the the perspective of humans, humans who have been wronged by supes.

so most supes i would say are characterized in a very vain negative way.

however, with gen v, our main cast are supes, they are the protagonists of this story. gen v explores the discrimination and consequences these kids face as supes, what they’ve gone through and how their identity as supes shapes who they are. we experience supes as our protagonists and we place humans who have bad experiences with supes (like dean shetty) as our antagonists.

gen v and the boys offer two differing perspectives that make the issues and situations they bring up incredibly more complex than before.

think about how dean shetty is compared to butcher, how they operate with the same anger and the same rage because of similar situations with homelander that caused the lives of the people they loved. if dean shetty was on the boys, we would be on her side more so. she operates on the same side as the boys (i don’t think same team but i feel like if she was on the boys she would be an ally).

and yet in the boys, she is (well… was) our titular antagonist. we viewed the world from the perspectives from the supes like jordan and marie.

so like maybe on the boys’ perspective, this would be about making the supes human or making them know they are not gods. the reason some (maybe most) supes act so carelessly with the world is because they think they are better, they are entitled to more because they are gods, they’re better than humans.

i feel like if the virus storyline is played on the boys, we would be pushing for the (at the very least) existence of this type of virus, something capable of wiping powers from supes when they go out of line.

however, in gen v, we experience the storylines of characters who’s powers are not just their strength but integral parts to their identity ie. jordan, jordan needs their power to be able to express their identity, without it they’ll be lost.

and so we root for the absolute destruction of this type of virus.

i’m not sure if this made any sense but i just feel like the boys writers picked the perfect spin off because now the issues are so much more complex and we can experience these situations from differing perspectives.

#gen v #jordan li #gen v amazon #gen v prime #gen v spoilers #marie moreau #emma myers #cate dunlap #luke riordan #sam riordan

[thesilmarillionblog]

Protect Me From What I Want

Chapter 1: Don't try to fight the storm, You'll tumble overboard.

Summary: You've been working with Butcher and his team since your sister died in a plane crash caused by Homelander, and months later, you met Soldier Boy. Drowning between hatred and your desire to have your vengeance, you have to face your feelings for Soldier Boy eventually.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Female! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Hurt, Language, Asshole Soldier Boy, Mention of Death

Word Count: 2106

A/N: English is not my first language.

Its been a year since the greatest supe ever known of America woken from his forty years of sleep, and it did not even take a large amount of time for your thoughts to revolve around him only. Oppressed with grief, your life has been consuming you inside since your sister died in a plane crash caused by Homelander. It changed many things. It made Butcher and his team find you; it turned you into something you couldn't name anymore. Each passing day was the same. You were all alone with despair when darkness took over the daylight; you knew you did not even mourn properly for your sister. What's worse was that you had fought just before the flight. Funny, that was the only time you two had a fight in twenty-three years, and it was over for nothing. Time heals, they say. They are all wrong. It won't heal a shit till it kills and throws you away with one last heavy strike.

The day you rescued Soldier Boy was definitely a hard day to forget. He looked like an unleashed, savage animal freed from a cage. Actually, he was literally something like that. Ben was so hard to control. Besides, the worst thing about himself was not his character; it was his erratic, nuclear-muscled chest, ready to blow up anytime. It was a hidden menace under his thick skin.

At first, you weren't sure if Homelander or Ben were worse. Probably both were pure supe evils in their own unique way. After all, intentionally or unintentionally, they both hurt many people.

All things aside, at least you were certain about one thing you truly craved for. The only thing. Homelander must die.

Walking on tiptoe, your heart was beating fast, and it was not the first time. Your palm was sweaty around the pistol, and your knuckles probably turned white. No need to be humble; you were a good shooter, a very good one, but you weren't sure if you could aim right into the eyes of the supe you were looking for when the right time came. Ben gave you the big eye and almost chuckled. You knew his senses as a supe were highly developed, and that made things embarrassing for you. In addition, the house being so silent and dark was another problem.

You did not know when all these things started when he made you feel such things. Maybe it was just a silly and temporary crush that would disappear sooner or later. However, as time passed, the way you reacted around him just grew irrevocably stronger. It was getting out of hand or already did. You hated that feeling but loved it; you also despised it and became obsessed with it. He was hard to ignore in every way, especially when he was that heartbreakingly handsome.

“Hey,” he said mockingly. “Why so excited suddenly?”

You were both grateful and angry with Butcher for leaving you alone with Ben in such a place like this. You were chosen to work with Ben most of the time since he broke Hughie's arm, got into a fight with Annie and Frenchie, and threw Butcher to the tree. Lucky for him, he was on Compound V, so, no one wanted to spend a single second with him. Especially Hughie was scared as fuck of him.

The only one who did not have a fight with Ben was Kimiko, as she never said a word at all that could make him mad in any way. Though you knew Kimiko was even more savage talking to Ben with sign language, you never dared or needed to translate her words directly.

Checking around nervously, you took a deep breath. “I am not excited.”

“Don't worry, it's not a big deal,” he continued, ignoring what you've just said. “I am used to such things.”

“What things?”

“You know,” he sighed. “Knowing that the strongest supe in the world is with you right now in this house and all alone got you wet. I’m sure your clit is flickering with such excitement that you might cum any moment.”

Judging by the look on his face as he went on acting his fingers obcenely and not stopping talking in an inappropriate way, he was amused. You just wanted to shut his voice completely down. He was not familiar with embarrassment at all. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, waiting for him to finish his pornographic ted talk.

Taking back some steps from him “Have you totally lost your mind? Every single thing you say is so gross and nasty,” you finally said. “You're so delusional; you should have been an author.”

It wasn't the first time he teased you. His choice of words was getting more obscene each time, even though you never took them seriously. The things he said caused pathetic butterflies to punch your stomach hard. But you knew Ben was being like this to everyone. It was in his nature, after all.

“Say delusional one more time and see what happens.” His sharpened eyes were fixed on you.

Fuck Butcher.

“Ben,” you whispered nervously. You got closer to him and touched his chest hesitantly.It would be a terrible idea to get on Ben's sensitive nerves. It would be easier if Butcher was there. “Are you on coke?”

“Course I am.”

Pushing your hands away from his chest with a rough move, Ben looked around cautiously, searching for any sign of the supe.

You followed in his footsteps. “Do you hear anything?”

“No.”

Stopping for a moment, you sighed. You did not want to push his buttons any further. “Is it true that this Supe can play with memories? Does she change them? Like mind control?”

“Worse.”

You felt his posture suddenly get serious.

“How?”

“The slut has a strange talent that can make you see stupid things, things you desire the most. They’re all fake and all made up stuff. Total bullshit.”

“What happens if you see them, though?”

“It’s impossible to wake up if you are a little pussy. You'd trap yourself like a rat driven by pathetic fake scenarios just because your little brain is a weak shithole and you’re just too scared to face reality. That’s it."

The way he sounded made you even more curious.

“You sound like you experienced it,” you said, raising your eyebrows.

Judging by the way he sounded, you were sure he experienced every single thing he mentioned. But what could be Soldier Boy's nightmare or dream? You were dying to know what he desired the most. What on earth would be his dream? He always looked so confident and sure of himself. It was like there would be nothing in the world he would ever desire. Of course, it would be Crimson Cuntess. Remembering the way he looked at her with disappointment made your stomach crumble in pain and despair.

“Absolutely nothing,” he insisted. “Only pussies desire things they can't get, right? I am smart, and I can have everything I want, sweetheart.”

“I thought it would be Crimson Countess,” you murmered, hoping he would not get mad. You needed him to deny it so bad.

Looking at him with pleading eyes and waiting patiently, he looked genuinely lost in thought for a moment.

“Jealous?”

Looking away, you said, “Why on earth would I be jealous?” You would make him believe you easily if you did not sound that needy and weren't flushed. You could never be completely honest with him. How could you?

Putting his left hand on your chin, he murmured. “You’re so obvious.. Do you really think I’m not aware of the way you look at me?”

With a heavy heart, you looked up at him with beseeching eyes.

“I don't understand what you mean at all.”

“You do,” he insisted indifferently. “I know, you wish you were her, I know you’re so envious of her that you would even let me fuck you as I like it if I made a move, right?” he paused and snickered. Your heartbeat skipped at his harsh words.

You made a move to get away from him, but his grip on your chin tightened hard enough to hurt, so you stopped moving, surrending his cruelty for a moment to catch your breath and let him do whatever he had on his mind.

Despite his roughness, you put your hand on his daring one softly, savoring his touch unintentionally as you try to push him away with helpless and meaningless attempts, hoping to show your affection for him. He didn’t make a move. Getting even closer, his broad chest touched yours ungently. Ben curled his lips into a mischievous smile and lowered his hand to where your heart is. When you felt his forearm touch your nipple, you gasped for breath and struggled determinedly not to melt into his warm touch.

Knowing his hand could easily rip your heart from your chest in a second should have been enough to take him out of your heart and mind right there, but it was always easier to blame destiny and others for what happened and is about to happen. Moreover, his being that dominant, confident, and powerful made your stomach curl in excitement.

“You’re wrong, Ben,” you denied.

You were angry at yourself for being like this and feeling that way. Between all things.. your sister and everything that happened in the last few months- you let your thoughts be driven into something you should stay away from in the very first place. Coming to your senses and accepting the truth about yourself hurt more than Ben’s words. You could never be at his level, but you let your fantasies take over your logic.

As you struggled not to melt into his touch, you tried harder to get away from him, hoping it would convince him. You mumbled, “You’re hurting me.”

His grasp was indeed firm, but it did not hurt at all. You just wanted to save yourself from the intensity of his seductive presence since you did not know if you could resist this irresistible pull for one more minute.

He pulled away his hands from you but remained still.

“How can you fucking normals endure being that weak, huh? You know, I could kill you without even using half my strength, right? It must take great energy and luck to survive,” he said mockingly.

You wanted to say he was nothing without Compound V in his veins, that he wasn’t naturally the strongest but a made-up product. However, it wouldn’t be smart at all to say such a thing. Supes were not known for having reasonable conversations and handling criticism. Maybe Supes were physically the strongest breed, whose emotional and narcissistic fragility was suppressed under their thick skin. And Ben’s short temper wasn’t something you’d want to face.

You both jumped when a noise coming from the second floor filled the house. Ben’s eyes were down. He was probably nervous considering he could potentially be put to sleep by the supe. Unlike Ben, you took a step right up the stairs, tightening your grip on the pistol and holding your breath.

“Be fucking slow,” he warned you, but it was more like he meant to threaten you.

You turned to him and whispered, “Hey, who’s being a pussy right now?”

“Don’t fucking provoke me.”

“Hey,” you said, giving him a playful wink. “I’ll always protect you.” Just before he said something, you’d seen supe’s dark figure behind Ben. Your eyes were fixed on each other. His body tensed with anger as his patience grew thin. He was about to lose his temper, knowing he should kill her without meeting the eye of the fucking bitch. He simply did not know how to do it. Before he turned around, you shot at the darkness randomly, trying to stir panic in the supe. The darkness of the room was in your favor until you met the heinous eyes of the supe just before Ben caught her and slammed her on the floor with a furious growl.

Next Chapter

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #the boys series #jensen ackles #the boys #the boys tv #jensen ackles soldier boy #the boys season 3 #soldier boy the boys #the boys amazon #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles the boys #the boys soldier boy

[ichorai]

BROKEN MACHINE ; the series.

a series based on the album broken machine by nothing but thieves for our 6k milestone! fandoms included ; marvel, house of the dragon, the walking dead, the boys, game of thrones, and succession.

main masterlist. wasteland baby! series. dear science series. about me.

TRACKLIST.

ONE. i was just a kid ; (marc spector) 6.6k ↳ khonshu wanted you dead. marc just wanted you.

TWO. amsterdam ; (jacaerys velaryon) 4.7k ↳ prince jacaerys velaryon traveled to the eyrie to secure aid for his mother's cause. he didn't at all expect to fall in love an arryn while he was there.

THREE. sorry ; (daryl dixon) 7.9k ↳ you were on your knees, and daryl was too. he wouldn’t look at you—he couldn’t—terrified that negan would bring that bat down on your head if he noticed.

FOUR. broken machine ; (miles morales) 5.1k ↳ stuck in a time loop, miles had to witness the one thing that he dreaded the most in life over and over again: your death.

FIVE. live like animals ; (kimiko miyashiro) 1.0k ↳ you try and frenchie try to show kimiko how to have fun on a day off.

SIX. soda ; (aemond targaryen) 40.3k ↳ he flinched away when your fingers brushed against his eyepatch. despite this, you reached out once more to pull it off, your touch ever so gentle—and this time, he let you. you whispered that he was beautiful as your lips grazed against the marred skin of his cheek. aemond didn’t believe you, but he let you say it nonetheless.

SEVEN. i’m not made by design ; (jaime lannister) 47.8k ↳ wolves and lions tend not to be friends, much less lovers.

EIGHT. particles ; (peter parker) 2.8k ↳ tony gives peter the dreaded 'dad' talk.

NINE. get better ; (hobie brown) 5.5k ↳ electric guitars and strawberries, leather jackets and quilted skirts, city spiders and cottage spiders. the two of you were perfect for each other.

TEN. hell, yeah ; (roman roy) 91.5k+ ↳ pain was an old friend for the both of you.

ELEVEN. afterlife ; (yelena belova) 1.9k ↳ her sister was dead. she’d lost everyone she’d ever known. and she didn’t know you—at least not as well as she’d like to know her sister’s spouse, but yelena wanted to try. that was the least she could do.

TWELVE. reset me ; (wade wilson) 1.3k ↳ charles sends you to recruit deadpool into the x-men. expectedly, the bastard tries to weasel away from you—and when that doesn’t work, he resorts to his most lethal method: flirtation. that, and taping a kick me sign on your back.

THIRTEEN. number 13 ; (rhaenyra targaryen) 5.4k ↳ in another life, she could’ve been with you, she was sure. a life of bliss and a life not ruled by the laws of men.

#broken machine #back with my third milestone series :D #marvel fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #the boys fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #marc spector x reader #daryl dixon x reader #miles morales x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #jaime lannister x reader #peter parker x reader #yelena belova x reader #wade wilson x reader #twd fanfiction #hotd fanfiction #sw fanfiction #got fanfiction #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #jace velaryon x reader #kimiko miyashiro x reader #hobie brown x reader #roman roy x reader #succession fanfiction

[speedycoffeedelight]

An Animalistic Disaster

Masterlist

A.n : So I reached my main goal of the beginning!!!! 1k in both Wattpad and Ao3 !!! Lessgoo!!!!! ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

Thank you everyone who read and liked this story and gave votes and kudos!! You guys inspire me to keep on writing!!!

As for the promised QnA. I think I'll do that once all the harem characters have joined. This type of thing won't happen much after all.

Also I promise I'm working on the next chapter. (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠) till it comes, here's some songs that goes with the story/ reminds me of them. Warning, I'm shit with love songs.

I'm not going to release the full playlist yet since it contains heavy spoilers. Same thing with the Oc's.

(Y/n)'s playlist

- Fictional by khloe rose.

(The feelings the reader had since she was little. Also the type of song that inspired me to write this self insert fanfic.)

- Rat by Penelope Scott

(This describes the relationship between the reader and her dad. How she feels deep inside. Also, I dunno if this counts much as a spoiler, but her dad is an engineer, so yeah. )

- W.I.T.C.H by Devon cole

(Wether someone calls her a witch or an ogre, she doesn't care. She can handle herself and that's all that matters.

And we stan a strong queen in this household)

Alastor x (Y/n)

-Never ever getting rid of me by Kimiko gleen

(You made him fall in love, so be prepared to deal with him 24/7.

Cause he ain't going anywhere honey)

Charlie x (Y/n)

- Adore by Mindy gleehill

( And here she goes, singing again. But this time it's directed towards the reader.

Poor girl can't control her heart around you. )

Vaggie x (Y/n)

- Boyfriend by Dove Cameron

(She knows she can treat you better then any man can.

And she's going to prove it )

Cherri Bomb x ( Y/n)

- Favourite by Isabel Larosa

(She's quite jealous of all the others stealing your attention. So can you really blame her for wanting to be your favourite?)

Pentious x (Y/n)

- Honeypie by Jawny

(He is determined to make you his and he won't stop till he does that.

He also can't get enough of your sweetness<3 )

Lucifer x (Y/n) [this is considering he gets chosen as a love interest]

- Checklist by Max

( What do you need? He's got it covered. He's going to spoil you rotten to have you all to himself.

The ruler of hell doesn't slack off in this area )

Husk x (Y/n)

- Older by lsabell Larosa

( I HAD to put this song here. Besides who wouldn't like an older man you could easily rely on?

This is basically reader's feelings about him.)

Angel x (Y/n)

- New side of me by Blake Roman

( He can't help but feel soft inside when he thinks about you. And it scares him.

He's never had anyone love him like you before.)

Niffty and (Y/n) [platonic]

- Sweet little psycho

(She's your very own sweet but psycho puppy.

Anyone disturbs you too much? Release her over them. :) )

Vox x (Y/n) [Will come in future]

-Criminal by Brittney spears

(He's our pathetic lovable criminal. You know you shouldn't fall for him, but what can you say?)

Adam x (Y/n) [ Will come in future]

- Genius by LSD

( Don't be fooled, he's no genius no matter what he might say. But he did make the correct call by falling for someone like you.

Someone who can manhandle and keep him in line.)

Lute x ( Y/n ) [Will come in future]

- Love like you

(She doesn't understand how she of all people managed to fall for you. This feeling should be a sin.

Yet, when she gets close to you, she can't regret it. )

An Animalistic Disaster playlist

- Can't sleep love by pentatonix

(I can just imagine the reader and Melody talking in phone like this. The reader can't decide what to do with all these feelings since all her fictional crushes have actually come to life AND living with her. She can't decide if she should act on it or not. Melody is already done with her shit and telling her to go back to sleep.)

- Bang bang by K'naan

( Okay, this is for my own brain rot. This is for everyone in the harem x reader. I can see the animation meme happening clearly in my head.

Every line is sang by different characters and when the 'bang' parts comes, a animal turns into human after getting hit by reader's love shot :)

Like-

She was walking around with a loaded shotgun - Angel

Ready to fire me a hot one - Cherri

It went- Charlie

*Sheep Charlie* BANG *human Charlie*

*Squirrel Cherri* BANG * Human Cherri*

*Deer Alastor* BANG * *Human Alastor*

Straight through my heart - Alastor

Maybe one day, if I learn to do animation.  I'll make something like this. )

Tag list: @legostars @glowinthedarkbones1150 @darifes @aria-tempest @rainbowcake1212 @luxylucylou

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #angel dust x reader #husk x reader #cherri bomb x reader #sir pentious x reader #vox x reader #lucifer x reader #adam x reader #lute x reader #hazbin hotel playlist

[eclecticqueennerd]

Confessions

Part 3

*language, mentions of r*pe, kidnapping, mild gaslighting, brief mentions of smeggs, angst*

Butcher POV

You lot didn’t deserve how he’s been treating you lately, pushing you to the brink of exhaustion and then pushing some more. His need for revenge for Lenny caused Kimiko to almost die. No, that was her fault. She shouldn’t have jumped in front of Soldier Boy. Sure, Frenchie could have been killed but still, Kimiko will get better, she always does. At least y/n wasn’t hurt.

Oh y/n. He could list all the reasons as to why he fell hard and fast for you but there’s not enough hours in the day. Where he barked orders to the crew, you were there to keep their spirits up. When he fell victim to his thoughts of self-loathing, you were there to talk him off the ledge. You showed the boys loyalty when you finally got your revenge on the supe that killed your husband after finding out how high the Vought shit ladder went. You were support, humility, loyalty, kindness, knowledge, and compassion. Everything that Butcher wasn’t.

But then you had to go and become the very thing he despised. A fucking supe. In the back of his mind, he knew y/n was forced into becoming enhanced and that he shouldn’t have stormed out, especially after finding out how Homelander violated you. But even in the best of times, Butcher can’t control his anger. Despite how many times you’d tell him he’s not, he’s exactly who his father says he is.

*flashback*

When you were kidnapped by Homelander, Butcher went into beast mode. Anyone who had the smallest bit of information on where you were located was met with brutality that even made the boys nervous to be around him. When Grace told him that you were found and safe with her, he damn near dropped everything to drive as fast as he could to meet you. He had to see that you were alright. He needed to hold you and by doing so, would calm the waves of fury, sadness, and relief that was pulsing through his veins. He had to tell you that he loved you.

Grace refused to tell him your exact location, per your request. You should have just spit in his face, it would have the same effect. When the two of you were reunited, all the ill feelings dissipated as he finally got to embrace you. She’s fine, she’s here, my y/n.

“Where ya been dove, what took you so long?”

“Sorry, I wanted to stay longer to train.”

“You let some other cunt train ya? I coulda done it.”

The calm went as quickly as it came once new information came to light on how to take Vought down. Butcher never got the chance to confess his feelings.

While on missions together, Butcher wanted to but never breached the topic of what happened while you were kidnapped. He wanted you to trust him and tell him in your own time, as he did with you about Lenny. He was attentive to whatever needs you had; you did not want for nothing. As time progressed, he noticed subtle differences. You were quick to catch things falling off the kitchen table, you were finally able to open that jar of pickles you always asked Butcher to open, he purposely tightened it each time to make sure you’d come to him for help. One night you cut yourself with a paring knife while mincing garlic and the next morning,

“Hey, how’s the finger?”

“What about it?”

“Ya cut it last night making dinner.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yeah, you did, I patched you up.”

“I think you dreamed that, Billy. See?” Butcher looks at your finger, “My finger is fine.”

“Huh, guess I did dream it.”

“Looks like we’ve been hanging out too much, you’re starting to dream about me dicing my fingers off.” Y/n was also increasingly jumpy around him even though he was as gentle as possible around her.

In hindsight, this should have been a red flag, but he's always been blinded when it comes to you. Now, piecing it all together it makes sense after you told him you were a supe.

“Hello, Earth to Butcher.” Maeve snapped her fingers. He came back to the task at hand, the Temp- V. Frenchie and Kimiko were at the hospital, MM quit the mission and went back to his apartment and tasked Hughie and y/n with finding Soldier Boy after he blew up a small building in New York.

“Did you even hear a word I said, Butcher?” Maeve asked. He shrugged,

“No.” Maeve scoffed.

“You should apologize to her.”

“To who?”

“Y/n.”

“You’ve got no business talking to me about y/n. How bout you just give me the Temp-V and fuck off?”

“Come one I know the two of you are fighting right now. She’s your friend and if you just tell her-“

“Who the fuck is telling you all this, eh?”

“Starlight.”

“Well, that cunt doesn’t know everything. I’ve got nothing to apologize for. I’ve done nothing wrong.” That’s fucking lie. Maeve threw the packet of vials on the couch.

“Fine, don’t take my advice. What do I know?” Just before Maeve left, Butcher stood up and offered her a drink of vodka.

“I’m 4 months sober you asshole.”

“Oh... Starlight never told me.”

“Like you said that bitch doesn’t know everything.” Maeve looks at the bottle and back to Butcher, she grabs the class and plops herself onto the couch. As the evening sky turned black, Butcher and Maeve busied themselves fucking on MM’s desk in the corner of the hideout.

“You know what Butcher? You’re a real piece of shit.”

Yeah, yeah, he was.

#mothers milk #the boys #the boys amazon #kimiko the boys #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #frenchie #karl urban #billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #queen maeve #reader insert #female reader #angst #Spotify

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Hi ! Can I request a The boys short of all of them playingMario kart with reader ? Thank you !

Hello! For sure! I'm gonna do these as headcanons cause I think that will work better!

MM:

He is an expert Mario Kart player, from constantly playing with his daughter

He knows all the secret paths, the best vehicles to pick, and he absolutely has a favorite

(It's Bowser)

He does not like to lose AT ALL

The only person he's ever lost to is his daughter, and that's only because he let her

He will stew and stew and stew when he loses. He will walk away, swear he's not playing again, and within minutes is back to reclaim his territory

When just the two of you play, he will sometimes reveal what he knows, but only if he has a big lead

Hughie:

Hughie has played Mario Kart pretty much his whole life

That being said, he's not the greatest. He wins every once in a while, but only when he gets lucky, or plays someone truly terrible

His favorite is Yoshi, and will always be Yoshi

When he loses, it's no sweat. Sometimes he singles out someone he wants to beat, but winning is not usually his end goal

He becomes the person who teaches the older Boys how to play, and they quickly all beat him

You tease him because for someone his age, he should be so much better than he actually is

Kimiko:

Kimiko had never played Mario Kart before joining the boys

But after Hughie taught her how to play, she is easily the best of all of them

(Much to the chagrin of many of the more experienced members)

Her favorite is any of the princesses, but she has a love for Daisy specifically

She is an aggressive player, and focuses most of her energy on taking down her other opponents

She is a MONSTER with green shells. Sometimes she'll fall behind just to get green shells and take down the other players

The others want to beat her, but are always a little bit terrified of what would happen to them if they ever did (It's a good thing they never get that close)

When you play against Kimiko, it's not even close, so you usually just assist her in taking the others down

Frenchie:

It's no shock that Frenchie's favorite power up is the bomb

In fact, when he *doesn't* get that one, he becomes extremely angry, and has been known to throw his controller

He isn't prone to picking the same exact character, but he often finds himself playing as Toad

He had not played before, but he is usually the one to suggest they start playing (Usually with controllers in hand and the game already up)

Frenchie does not like to lose, but typically he loses his temper before the game is even over, and the computer ends up finishing for him

You have had to talk him down more times than you can count, and he listens, because you're the one who wants to play with him the most

Billy:

Billy does not like Mario Kart and he does not understand it

Hughie has tried to show him multiple times, but each time he just becomes angry and ends up storming out

He thinks all of them are childish for enjoying the game so much, and thinks it is just a violent mess of color

The few times they get him to play, he always picks Mario, because "the name is Mario Kart, who the bloody hell else would I play as"

He is the second most offender for throwing the controller

He also threatens to destroy the game any time he is annoyed with them all, but he hasn't done so yet

He does not like when you tease him for being old for not liking the game

"MM and I are around the same age"

"Well one of you acts 80, the other doesn't"

#the boys #the boys imagine #the boys headcanons #billy butcher #billy butcher headcanons #billy butcher imagine #hughie campbell #hughie capbell headcanons #hughie campbell imagine #kimiko miyashiro #kimiko miyashiro imagine #kimiko miyashiro headcanons #mothers milk #mothers milk imagine #mothers milk headcanons #frenchie #frenchie imagine #frenchie headcanons #anonymous

[mha-haikyuu]

Happy life, Happy...Daughter?

Dad Katuski x mom reader ~~~~

Name: Y/n Bakugou

Age:23

Quirk: fire

Draw backs: major burns on skin and sun burns.

Daughter name: Kimiko Age:3

Warning: swearing {um well it's Bakugou}

~~

You and Katuski had your daughter when you were both young, 20 to be exact, which meant that you both had to immediately stop all of your hero work well any hero work to take care of her.

Kimiko was the light of your lives though and you wouldn't trade her for anything, but today your husband was supposed to be taking her to the agency with him but there was always that last minute call and well he had to go on patrol with Kirishima to catch this really dangerous villain that was setting things up in flames.

Not that he couldn't handle anything in his way but in the process that meant having to break the news to his daughter. It all started at 12AM.

~~ Y/n and her husband were sleeping in the comfort of their bed when Katsuki got a phone call. He was determined to let whoever was calling call and stop calling after the 3rd ring. However, when it got to the 3rd ring, they just kept calling and didn't stop.

Y/n rolled over and hit her husband on the chest and mumbled "Katsuki get up and get your phone, they are not going to stop"

"No, they can wait till morning" "No, it is morning already, get it!"

"Whatever woman" He grumbled turning over to the nightstand and picking up the phone. He looked at the phone and noticed it was his agency.

"What!" He yelled into the phone causing you to hit him again. I was to early for him to be yelling like that and you did not want him to wake up your daughter.

*On the phone*

Agency: You need to be here exacty at 8 in the morning Ground Zero! Katsuki: Ok and why are you calling me to say that you nerd! Agency: Whatever just be here on-

*Hangs up phone*

He proceeds to lay back down while y/n sits up.

"I have to leave early" He says "What! but you were supposed to take Kimiko with you to the agency tomorrow? You know I can't stay home!" You say

"Well you are going to have to please babe, we are so close to catching this villain" He says

You sigh, Staying home from work is always hard because you both decided to alternate days when you take Kimiko to work with you and the days you didn't have her were normally patrol days vs days with her were days filled with meetings.

Today was supposed to be your husbands meeting day and you had patrol, but of course he needed to go on patrol so you had to take Kimiko, and today was not the day to take her to the agency because well it's not toddler proof so you had to stay home with her and call in.

"Ok, I will call in later but you owe me" You say

"Mmhm" He says, yanking you down and wrapping his arm around you. "I love you y/n" "Yeah I know you do"

~~ BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

7:00AM

You both got out of bed and Katsuki went to shower.

You on the other hand went to make so breakfast for when your husband came out to the living room.

When he came out you gave him his breakfast and lunch for the day.

"I will see you too later ok?" He said giving you a kiss on the lips.

"Yeah go catch kick so bad guy ass for us" You said quietly

"Hell yeah I will!" He said walking out of the door.

While your daughter was still sleeping, you decided to go and call your agency and let them know that you couldn't come in today because of some issues. After the brief call you went to do some cleaning around the house and pick up some things off of the floor.

"MOMMY!" you heard from down the hall, You dropped everything you had and and to your daughters room. She was sitting up in her bed with her little ground zero stuffed doll. She looed it because it reminded her of her papa when he was gone on missions and she took it everywhere.

"Kimiko baby?" You said "How was your sleep?" You walked over to her bed

"Good, where's papa?" She asked. She had gotten used to the switching days of going to you guys agency and knew that since she went with you yesterday it was time to go with her dad today.

"He had to leave early" You said picking out her some clothes' for the day.

"But he leave without me?" She said making you sigh.

"He will be back before bed time, but today you and I are going to do whatever you want" You say

Doing whatever she wanted was the easiest way to avoid a tantrum so even if that meant going to her and her papa's favorite cat café just without her papa you would do it.

"But I want papa, our day?" She said getting ready for a melt down.

"I know baby but he will be home later, how about we go to your favorite café? Then you can get your favorite food" You said to her helping her get into her outfit. 

"KATSUDIN!" She yells running to put her shoes on then sitting on the couch.

You nodded and went to get dressed as well. 

15 minutes later you guys were sitting in the café with your food. 

"Mommy? get cat?" Kimiko was holding this really fat black cat that had spots of blond all over it's body. 

"Um I don't know, your papa and I work a lot" You said looking down at you cut but when you looked up the cat and your daughter were staring at you. 

"Uh ok fine." You said getting up to go sign some adoption papers.

~~

A cat, a coffee, and a shopping trip later you guys were home and by now it was 7:00PM and you had just feed Kimiko dinner. Both of you were sitting on the couch with your new cat Aniko when the door jiggled and the the door opened.

"Brat and woman! I am home with a surprise" Katsuki said closing the door.

"PAPA!" Kimiko said running over to where your husband had sat down a large moving bag, he picked her up and hugged her.

"I missed you so much baby" he said giving her a kiss on the forehead. 

You walked up and gave him a hug as well "I missed you too..... king explosion murder" you said laughing casing him to playfully push you.

"I bought you a gift" He said putting his daughter down and picking up the bag. 

"What is it?" She said.

"It is a...." He pulls something out of the bag and your smile drops

Another.... black cat with a ....blond spot...

Kimiko gasps and runs back to the couch and grabs Aniko 

"LOOK MAMA AND PAPA THEY CAN BE SISTERS!" she said making your husbands smirk fall, and he sighs

..."another cat?" He says and you give a sheepish laugh.

"Surprise, Hehe?" 

"I'm gonna call you Mika!" 

Part 2 out soon

#mha x reader #bnha imagines #mha #mha imagines #bnha #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha fluff #bnha bakugou

[queenxxxsupreme]

To Be Scared (Billy Butcher x f!reader)

A/N: I asbolutely suck at titles lol anywho I love Becca and I think this was interesting to write.....

Warnings: nothing outside of canon, it’s a bit angsty, there is a very brief mention of child loss but it’s just a bit, 

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: You struggle with handling the presents of Becca Butcher at the hideout. 

“Jesus fuck, Billy.” You slammed the door to the hideout shut behind you, then began to rather angrily stomp down the stairs. “The next time you send me out to talk to that fucking witch, I’m going to kill you in your slee-,” 

You stopped upon seeing an unfamiliar woman in the room. Frenchie, Kimiko, and M.M. were around her, almost crowding her. 

Their heads turned in your direction. The smile fell from Frenchie’s face and M.M. cursed under his breath. 

“Oh, fuck.”

“How, uh, How did the meeting with Madame Mallory go?” Frenchie stood up and began to move towards you. 

“I can’t fucking stand her.” You shrugged off your jacket, briefly looking at the unfamiliar woman. Frenchie took the jacket from you and put it over his arm as he stepped in front of your line of sight. The action was a bit odd. Frenchie was always sweet and nice, so having him take your jacket wasn’t weird. But he appeared to be trying to block your ability to see the woman. 

“She can be a bit of an ass, no?”

“A bit?” You repeated with a raise of your brows. You stepped around Frenchie and began to approach the unfamiliar woman. “Who’s this, M.?”

“This?” He gestured to the woman. “Uh, um, this is– She’s a, uh–,”

“Becca Butcher.” She gave you a kind smile. “Billy’s wife.”

Your heart fell to the pit of your stomach. You stared at the woman as your skin broke out in goosebumps. 

All of the background noises in the hideout became distant. The sound from the TV was incoherent. Whatever Frenchie was saying to you was muffled as if you were underwater. 

“His-His wi–,” You were cut off. 

“Ah, son of a fucking–,” Butcher cursed as he walked into the room. He had hoped to greet you upstairs before you arrived. He wanted to explain everything to you before you saw Becca.

You turned your head to him, your lips parted. You wanted to speak, but your voice was gone. You couldn’t even catch your breath enough to breathe. 

“Alright, alright. Let’s give her some air.” He moved towards the couch where she sat. Where Becca sat.

Your brain was still trying to compute what was happening. You had hoped that this day would never happen, that you would never have to meet the woman who had Billy Butcher’s heart. 

“I-I have to–,” You took a step back but bumped into a chair. Your hand automatically came up to make sure the chair wasn’t going to tip over. 

Without another word, you left the room hastily, making your way back up the stairs. 

“Damn.” M.M. shook his head, bringing his hand up to rub his eyes. 

Butcher let a heavy sigh out through his nose. 

Frenchie sat back in his seat. 

“Who was that?” Becca asked curiously, her eyes looking around at those in the room with her. 

“That was Y/N.” Frenchie explained. “You should go check on her, Charcutier.”

Butcher brought his hand up to his brow. 

“I’ll be back in a couple minutes. Stay put.” He told Becca before following after you. 

***

You were standing on the curb outside of the pawn shop. There was a cigarette between your index and middle fingers. 

Butcher came to stand next to you with his arms crossed.

You glanced over to him then shook your head. Your gaze found a large box truck as it passed by.

“It would’ve been nice to have a heads up that your wife was here.”

“I wasn’t expectin’ her.”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Me too.” 

You took a long drag of the cigarette. 

“Doll, I know–,”

“Don’t.” You cut him off, closing your eyes. “Don’t call me that. Not right now. It makes me…. It makes me feel fucking sick to my stomach.”

“She’s here ‘cause her son was taken by Homelander. She came to us for help.”

“To you.” You corrected him quietly, but he didn’t hear you. Maybe he did hear you and he was just ignoring you.  

“Now I know this makes things difficult for us, but it’ll be back to normal soon.”

“It doesn’t have to be difficult, Billy.” You flicked the ashes off of the end of the cigarette. “She means a lot to you.”

Butcher was quiet. He didn’t know how you felt about the situation. Your tone was oddly calm and passive. He was sure you would’ve been raising hell about it. 

“She’s just as pretty as you described.” You smiled a little, though it was a sad smile. You feared what this meant for your relationship with Butcher– whatever kind of relationship the two of you had. 

You turned your head to look at him. Butcher gazed at you, his brows slightly furrowed. The two of you looked at one another for what felt like forever. 

He was lost in a mess of emotions, emotions he didn’t want to talk about or even acknowledge. He just wanted to push them deep down somewhere inside of his being, to shove them away. 

The more you looked at him, the more you found yourself on the verge of tears. You knew without a doubt that if he had a choice, he wouldn’t pick you. Becca meant everything to him. Becca was his world, his universe. Her disappearance eight years ago had driven him nearly mad. And every day since that moment, he had relentlessly tried to find out what happened to her, to bring Homelander down. But now she was alive. She was alive and she was in his life once again.

You took a deep breath and put the cigarette out on a light post. The nicotine wasn’t enough to dull your pain. You would need something stronger.

“We should get back inside. Need to figure out where her son is.” Your voice was quiet. 

As you were passing him, Butcher grabbed your arm to stop you. He looked down at you, his gaze softening. 

“I…. M’sorry.”

You gave him a little smile, shaking your head, then you continued on into the pawn shop.

***

As you made your way down the stairs, you did your damnedest to keep your eyes away from Becca. 

You passed through the main room and made your way to a room in the back. 

Becca’s gaze followed you the whole way. She was leaning forward in her seat, her hands holding the couch cushion. 

“Alright, let’s get to it.” Butcher said as he joined the gang in the room. 

“What about Y/N?” Frenchie asked. 

“She’ll join us later as needed. So, Ryan ain’t on any of their social media, which is good on one hand, but it don’t help us none.” 

“So you think he’s in the Tower?” Becca questioned. 

“Not sure. You stay here. Rest up. I’m gonna go do a little diggin’.”

Butcher started to pick up his jacket and head for the stairs, but Becca followed him. 

“Hey, Billy? I’m sorry, okay? I have no right to ask you to help me after what I said to you, but–,”

“Look, don’t you worry, alright?” He placed his hands on her arms as he looked down at her. “I will find your son.”

She nodded as she gazed up at him with teary eyes. 

Without a second of hesitation, Becca leaned up to kiss him. Butcher, not even realizing what he was doing, turned his head so she would kiss his cheek. 

As they parted, Butcher happened to glance over to his teammates. They were watching the whole ordeal. 

“Fuck off you lot.” He growled. 

“Are you just going to leave Y/N with us?” M.M. raised his brows. He was concerned that you would lose your shit. You weren’t known for your patients or good temperament. 

“I’ll deal with her when I get back. Just…. Leave her be and everything will be alright.”

***

You sat in a room by yourself. Your boots were propped up on to the table and you were throwing darts at a poster of Homelander. 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw movement. Without even looking at her, you knew it was Becca. Frenchie and M.M. wouldn’t have seemed so hesitant. 

You gripped the dart in your hand a little tighter and launched it at the poster, hitting Homelander square in the forehead. 

“Excuse me, Y/N?” 

She means everything to him. She is everything to him. You needed to remind yourself of this so that you wouldn’t say something stupid, so that you wouldn’t cause her any sort of harm. You didn’t want that, but sometimes your emotions got the best of you. 

You let out a stiff breath and put your feet down on the floor. Your eyes flickered over to her. 

“Mrs. Butcher.”

“Please, just Becca.” She smiled softly. That smile. Fuck, did it make you sick. Why did she have to be so nice? “Can I just, um, have a word with you?”

Wordlessly, you gestured to the chair across from you. She sat down, her eyes gliding over the numerous big guns and weapons laying on the table. 

“No one else will be honest with me.” She spoke quietly. “You…. You have something with him, don’t you? With Billy?”

Your eyes stayed on her for a little longer than necessary. You didn’t answer her at first. It took you a few moments to make sure you wouldn’t break down or lose your shit. But as you gazed at her, you couldn’t help but think about everything he had ever told you about her. 

“The only thing we have is sex, Mrs. Butcher.” You murmured quietly. 

She nodded her head and looked down at her hands. 

“The way you…. The way you froze up when you found out who I was. I’m not stupid, Y/N. I saw it on your face.” 

You hated how gentle she was being, how compassionate she was. She was everything Billy Butcher wasn’t. It made you wonder if perhaps he was a kinder man before Becca disappeared. 

Perhaps if she wasn’t so nice, you’d feel better about things. 

“It’s more than just sex, isn’t it?”

It was your turn to look down at your hands. Tears blurred your vision as you rubbed the back of your hand. 

Becca let you have a few moments. She could see how you were on the edge, how you struggled to hold in everything. She expected to see tears on your cheeks as you looked up at her. But your eyes were just glossy. There were no tears.

“I-I don’t want to hate you.” You whispered, shaking your head softly. “You are…. You are the most important person in his life. He would scorch this entire earth if it meant he could see you happy.”

Becca didn’t know what to say. What could she say to the woman who was sleeping with her husband? Granted, she and Butcher were parted but she still loved the man with all her heart. 

“How long has…. How, um….” Becca didn’t know how to get the words out of her mouth. 

“Four years.” You nodded a little. 

“I’m just…. I guess I am happy that he’s had someone there for him.” She smiled a little. “Billy can be a bit of a prick.”

You wanted to chuckle. She was the only other woman on the entire planet who could understand what it was like being with Billy Butcher. But even then, you were sure the Butcher you knew and the Butcher she knew were two different sides of a coin. 

“He told me about what you said to him.” 

Becca’s lips parted.

You picked up the carton of cigarettes on the table and pulled one out. You offered one to her. She took it wordlessly and after you lit your cigarette, you passed the lighter to her. 

“I get it.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, letting the smoke come out of her mouth. 

“You do?”

You nodded your head slowly, eyes flickering down to the weapons on the table. 

“I had a daughter once.” You paused to flick the ashes into a cup. “So I know what it’s like giving everything up for a child.”

“I’m-I’m sorry for your loss.”

You said nothing in response. 

“I want to hate you, Mrs. Butcher.” You told her. Your eyes found hers. “I want to hate you with every fiber of my being. But I can’t. I-I can’t bring myself to feel that way. Not entirely at least.”

“Why can’t you?”

“Because it would hurt him even more to see me try to kill you. It would hurt him to see me hostile and shitty towards you. He’d never admit it, but I know him. He loves you with a love that not many people have.”

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching the room made Becca look towards the door. You took a drag of the cigarette and blew the smoke upwards. 

Butcher stopped in the doorway, hesitant and cautious. Becca gave him a little reassuring smile while you kept your eyes on the Homelander poster covered in tiny punctures from darts. 

“What, uh, what are we havin’ here?”

“I was just talking to Y/N.” Becca told him. 

“I see.” Butcher’s eyes found you. You were avoiding him. “Becca, can you come talk to M.M.? He’s got some questions for ya.”

“Of course.” She nodded, taking one last puff of the cigarette before putting it out in an ashtray  on the table. 

As she left the room, you turned your head to look at Butcher. He leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed. 

“What?”

“Half expected to find you both havin’ a good ole screaming match.”

“Over what?”

“.... Me.”

You grinned a little, shaking your head. 

“Oh, Billy. You must have a pretty big ego to think we would fight over you.”

“Just a little bit.” He chuckled at your teasing. It made him feel a little better to know that you were able to joke. 

He moved towards you, pulling up the chair next to you so that when he sat down, he could slip one knee between yours. 

“Heard what ya said.” He spoke quietly. His hand came up to cup your cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut, leaning into his touch. “It means a lot to me, how you’re handlin’ this.”

“Shut up.” You whispered. Your hand came up to hold the back of his that cupped your face. You squeezed his fingers before pulling his hand away from you. “I don’t want you being soft on me right now. It makes me want to puke.”

He grinned. 

“I’m scared, Billy.” You admitted. Your eyes were focused on his chest, but more specifically, on the necklace he had that he always wore. 

“Scared? I’ve seen you face to face with Homelander and not even bat an eye.”

You shook your head. 

“Becca…. She can take you from me if she wanted to.”

Butcher tilted his head to the side a little, his features softening up. 

“That ain’t true, doll.”

You wanted to fight him, to yell at him and tell him that he was lying to your face. You wanted to let all of the anger and rage in your bones out. You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs. 

But you didn’t. You stayed there gazing at the stupid necklace. 

“Hey.” Two fingers slipped under your chin. Butcher tilted your head up so that you had no choice but to look him in the eyes. “Just keep in mind who I’m sleepin’ next to at night.”

You smiled a little. 

“In your luxurious full size bed underneath a grimey pawn shop.”

The corner of his lips turned up in a smirk. 

“That’s right.” He leaned in to kiss your lips. “Just keep that in mind, doll.”

Taglist: @butcherdom @would-die-for-bucky-barnes @sojuxxi @salemmea @mrdcks-spaghetti 

#billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x reader angst #billy butcher fic #billy butcher the boys #billy butcher #william butcher x reader #william butcher x reader angst #william butcher #the boys fic #the boys amazon #the boys prime #queenxxxsupreme

[mercutio-the-velaryon]

Hello stranger, I saw you asking about gen v supe names so I come bearing offerings:

For Marie, the best I've heard so far is Heartstring (which I think would work especially well if we're imagining vought's influence, and trying to push Marie as the new Starlight) I also like Heartstopper and Queen of Hearts, but I think those lean more towards villain names

For Emma, she could keep Cricket, but I like the idea of her picking something to do with her giant form, so: Giantess, or Colossa, or Titania

For Jordan, (now realistically vought would chew them up and give them the most cliche, cringy name possible, but ignoring that) my personal favorite is Pulse or Pulsar.

For Cate, I've seen Push as a good option, but I also like Siren, Whisper, or Piper (as in like the pied piper)

For Andre, I hate to say it but I think he'd just take up Polaris. Though I also think Magneta, (I know it sounds like magneto but TB universe doesn't know that) or Steel would work, I could also see Vulcan (the Roman god of metal) being cool but that might be too niche. (Metallo would be my first choice but it's been used sadly)

For Sam, tbh Sam's powers are pretty stock, so he could probably pick anything he wants. I could see him taking up something that follows the same format as his brother, so: _____ boy (ironically the first choice that I think would come to Sam's mind is superboy, but that is of course off limits, though personally, I'd find it hilarious) maybe Ultra Boy or Power Boy, or the Strong Man (who am I kidding these are all terrible, I've got nothing for Sam... Super Sam?)

Really though when you look at naming conventions (both in the boys and in superhero tradition overall) a lot of heroes' names don't have a ton to do with their powers and are either: highly generic (Superman, Mr. Fantastic, Captain Marvel, Wondee Woman etc) or have to do with a gimic that isn't necessarily related to their powers, so there's actually quite a bit of wiggle room, to just pick whatever sounds good.

Omggg these are great, I wanted to write an au set in the near future, where the cast had their superhero names so thank you for this if you would kindly allow me to steal these names for that purpose 👀👀

Heartstring is so good, it fits Marie so perfectly I gasped because yes exactly. I was thinking Emma should have a name change to kind of symbolise her regaining her autonomy from her mother with how she was forced to portray herself, I'm feeling Titania tbh. I really really like Pulse for Jordan simple effective love love love. Siren for Cate is insane cause not only does it encompass the nature of her powers but it also speaks to how she's used them, how she's lulled her friends into a false sense of security then caused them harm (wiped their memories) like yesssssssss. Ugh this is such a good listttt. Andre I think would change his name from the one he'd inherit from his dad, I was workshopping something like Silver Bandit, Heavy Metal or Ironclad (already in marvel lmao fml) or Steel Knight to pay homage to his rebel without a cause energy. I wanted just Steele but that's already a version of superman I think, John Irons I believe holds that mantle. I think even just Ultra would work as a name for Sam. Or maybe just The Boy like how Kimiko's The Female idk.

Thank you this is so helpful!!!!!

#gen v #gen v amazon #gen v spoilers #marie moreau #jordan li #the boys #cate dunlap #andre anderson #emma meyer #sam riordan

[evilminji]

Back at it again? With more BNHA? My goodness!

See, in one my WIP, which haunts me like a cursed Victorian doll in the night, chanting to me my sins from beneath the floorboards, I got a few OCs. As ya do. Gotta flesh out that world building. And I am ALWAYS a ho for some sweet, sweet SI-OC action!

Because the stranger in a strange land, can see what SHOULD be mundane and familiar anew! There are Moral Quandries! You get to put your sticky lil gremlin fingers ALL over the set dressing and look inside those boxes they put in the background of the scenes! What's IN there? Secrets? We bet it's SECRETS.

Tis the BEST, really. I enjoy it.

But of course! If it's BNHA then we must assign Randomly Gifted Genetic Fuckry(tm) : The Super Powers Edition. Where in? My love of "immediately obvious powers are for cowards. There are no such things as weak powers, only weak and uncreative minds" comes into plaaaay~

I! Want! WEIRD QUIRKS!

Supposedly "minor" ones! That everyone says "oh that's a minor power. Sucks for you" and expects you to just leave it at that! Give up. Like you're some sort of fuckin CASUAL.

HA!

Nah, we pushing this fucker until REALITY breaks. You are gonna be legitimately asking "how the FUCK did you do that!?" And the answer is Will Power, Spite, and "Cause Fuck You, I'm Awesome".

Which of course, is how we got Kimiko. The most high femme, kawaii, little pastel pink bundle of Rage and Bloodlust the Heroics world has ever seen. She is that stage of little girl where they like to wear tiaras, princess dresses, and want to MURDER EVERYTHING. But never grew out of it.

She grew IN to it.

Got a lot of rage, that one. Probably because everyone is all "ooooh, kimi! Your Quirk is so CUTE! You'll be such a good housewife! Such a good sweets maker! Aren't you so CUTE! Let's all infantalize Kimi!" *murder intensifies*

She can turn part of what she is touching into Marshmallow.

*slaps a hand on your shoulder* There are NO restrictions on that~☆! ANYTHING she touchs. Is she touch you? Air? The ground? This building we are standing in? Wanna keep talkin shit? How do you feel about Marshmallow lungs? Enough training and eventually she can take out a building!

Cause Marshmallow? Not a very strong support. Ground under your high rise better be sturdy if you want it to hold, you know? Things to think about. Other things, are the "part of" aspect. Which she is slowly getting better at. Wanna see a trick? *a Marshmallow plops down on the table on the far side of the room* Still air! Still touching~.

Hope your technology is AIR TIGHT and not IN the air. Or moving through it at any concerning speeds. Like, say, a car. Fun thought! Don't fuck with her again! Kimi out! *removes threatening hand of possible Marshmallow Murder*

She's besties with the SI. Himiko. They are the Koko's and WILL be going to UA specifficaly because Kimi was told she couldn't make it. Himi wants nothing to do with this bullshit but is being dragged along like a cat in a harness.

She has my favorite super power. Egg.

Just... Egg.

Egg? Yes. She can summon eggs. Into the spoon. Like those challenge races. Except there is no race, its just her in her pjs trying to eat her damn breakfast. But SUPRISE! Raw egg. Full on, chicken egg in a shell, in your spoon. Perfectly balanced.

And in this iteration, it does have to be in a "spoon" or spoon-like shape. Defined as a bowl with a handle. The egg will fit the spoon. And? Most importantly! Not restricted to chicken eggs!!!

Tiny spoon? Tiny egg. Large spoon? Large egg.

Theoretically? Stadium sized spoon? Stadium sized egg of unknown species never to be seen on planet earth. Because YES. Those thought popping into your head. "Ha ha, what about a dodo eg-" Yeah, see, not ass funny when you actually DO that as a sleep deprived toddler because you HAVE TO KNOW. And now conservationists are hunting you for sport.

Do you have? ANY idea the lengths certain folks would go too to save endangered bird or frog species? If it comes out of an egg. Yes. She CAN make it. No risk of inbreeding for the already critically small populations. Just viable, healthy eggs. Ready to be incubated.

Took her an afternoon.

Needless to say... things get Exciting(tm). People need to be threatened. Himi gets lifelong job security at age four. Neat.

But!!! Not why I started writing! I had a THIRD OC child! Who never made it to the limelight! Gasp! I know! The secret comes out! I scrapped him in favor of Kimi. But his power was one I enjoy Pondering about!

Unlock. You can unlock doors. All doors.

No, you can't "unlock" the bonds between atoms or something. It has to be a Door. But! Begs the question, don't it? Would you... would you have "door sensing"? If there was a perfectly blended in or painted over door? Would you be able to say "it's right there"?

What happens if you use your ability on a tree? Doors are often made of wood. Would there be any effect? Even if no "opening" happened? Could you open metaphorical doors? If someone PAINTED a door, could you open a wall? If so, how deep? If we painted a cliff face, could you open a door to the other side of the mountain?

How far does you door opening power stretch?!

I understand you Izuku! I too, want to study these cool Quirks! See how far they can develop! No more strength quirks! More minor quirks with unusual applications! Woooo!

@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation @hypewinter

#bnha #minji's ponderings

[omniuravity]

Characters I want to hear sing more in Hazbin Hotel!!!

@bloodypeachblog @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered @moths-and-mantids @dynogadget

Niffty (Kimiko Glenn): For those who aren't as into musical theatre as I am, Kimiko Glenn originated the role of Dawn from Waitress on Broadway. She sings "When He Sees Me" which is arguably one of the best songs in the whole show. I just want to hear her bust out her singing chops.

Valentino (Joel Perez): I don't think we got enough of him singing in the show. I want to hear him sing mainly cause I am not a fan of Paranoid DJ's Valentino voice. I would love a straight up villain song in the vain of "Toxic Love" from FernGully.

Husk (Keith David): Sure we get a duet and a part in the Finale, but that's not enough for me! I need more Keith David!

Alastor (Amir Talai): Again, all we get is a duet and a part in the Finale (arguably the best part in the finale, fight me). I need more Alastor singing.

Lucifer (Jeremy Jordan): This man sang some bangers in this show, but I love him and want to hear him more. Reminder that Jeremy Jordan sang Santa Fe from Newsies and he's going to be playing Seymour from Little Shop of Horrors (one of my favorite musicals btw).

Vox (Christian Borle): Again, he's a good singer. He sang Hard to be the Bard from Something Rotten. It's a shame we only got a duet and a part in the finale. He's a very talented singer and I want to hear more.

That's it, that's the post ❤️

[thedreadpirate-cupcake]

I really like Gen V a whole lot more than the Boys. It feels more character-driven/and i like the characters better across the board. Marie is so fucking cool and I love her and Jordan and Emma is awesome and i love her and Marie's friendship, whereas i literally cannot stand Hughie from the Boys, and also Butcher as well tbh. "Straight white man seeks revenge" is not an interesting concept to me. I would prefer more focus on Mother's Milk, Kimiko and Starlight tbh.

So, one of my friends LOVES the Boys and i am trying to understand the appeal of characters like Butcher and Hughie cause he likes them and i just remember being pissed at how Hughie treats Starlight, how he takes temp v because after initially saying he didn't mind her being stronger than him, now he's like "actually, i do have a problem with it. i want to protect YOU" which is so shit and toxic masculinity vibes after it was the one thing he had going for him lol.

Butcher is just...i don't know, i don't enjoy dark, gritty brooding man who is all scary and shizz character types. I think they're fine if they are a side-character and are explored well (which, Butcher was, on occasion ngl) but i don't think they're an interesting main character because there are so many characters like that in action media i think.

So, basically my question is, what do ya'll like about these characters (like Hughie and Butcher?) What is the appeal of having them be the protagonist?

#the boys #gen v #the boys hughie #the boys billy butcher

[grasshopperdoingdogpaddle]

so I get that Omi likes playing in the rain cause it's his element but what do the others do to play in their elements

Well, as we've established, Omi loves playing in the rain or splashing in water. It makes him feel centered.

Clay loves mudwrestling and gardening/farming. Gives him a steady feeling, brings him back to earth.

Raimundo loves surfing because he gets to feel the wind in his hair. It's the ultimate expression of freedom and fun for him.

Kimiko... would love gathering around a campfire or huddling near a fireplace?

But, I mean, we see in Hannibal's Revenge and The Return of Master Monk Guan that she also just straight-up enjoys casual arson, so if that counts as an activity, then it definitely makes her feel closer to her element.

Since Omi likes to feel centered, Clay likes to feel steady, and Raimundo likes to feel free, of course the emotion Kimiko wants to feel is fired up.

#xiaolin showdown #omi #kimiko tohomiko #clay bailey #raimundo pedrosa

[middnightlight]

It’s that time of the month again

I have finished Season 3 of The Boys and here are my thoughts

Jensen Ackles, his best work yet

The screenwriters added depth to everyone’s arc this season, but especially Black Noir, Maeve, and even A-Train, which I think was needed

We went more in-depth into Butcher’s backstory and BRO- THAT WAS A LOT

Poor Lenny 😭😭

Herogasm wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be, but I think that’s just cause I’m desensitized to the show now 💀

That fight between Hughie and Annie was very much needed and they both have a point

Frenchie and Kimiko, once again, were couple goals this season, and once again, were given ✨trauma✨

Homelander...They made me somehow sympathize with Homelander. I didn’t even think that was possible. 

I will say that Butcher did fuck up with Ryan in the worst way possible

“You’re the spitting image of my little brother Lenny” BYEEE😭😭🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

MM deserves better, but we already knew that

Also, Janine’s mom needs to divorce that POS immediately 

A-Train’s and Black Noir’s arcs this season...masterpieces.

Deep...can still go fuck himself.

It’s the way that Homelander just wanted acceptance and love from Soldier Boy, but Soldier Boy was like “You might have my blood, but you ain’t nothing like me” 💀

But the minute Soldier Boy hurt Ryan, both Butcher and Homelander were like “Who the fuck do you think you are?” 

The look between Butcher and Homelander when they both lasered Soldier Boy 🤌🤌

Maeve deserves more scenes than what she got, but I love her anyway.

Deep reminds me of a weaker version of Homelander. He wanted all of Homelander’s attention and wants to be his right hand man, even if he’s fucking terrified of Homelander

So in a way, Black Noir was Homelander’s father. He showed him the ropes, kept his secrets. He’s the only person that Homelander’s ever respected. 

Also, the way that Ashley deleted the video file that revealed that Maeve was alive🤌❤️

RYAN, WHY THE FUCK DID YOU SMILE???

Elena and Maeve better live a peaceful life, farming in Modesto

All in all, Jensen Ackles served, as usual, and so did the cast😍

#homelander the boys #homelander #starlight the boys #starlight #hughie campbell #the boys #the deep #a-train #Annie January #Billy Butcher #Frenchie #kimiko #Soldier Boy #Jensen Ackles #bearded!jensen #anthony starr #jack quaid #erin moriarty #what the fuuuuck #my thoughts #holy shit

[silvfyre-writings]

Parenting is Stressful (BSD Fanfic)

Hello. Again. I return with another Ranpo and Fukuzawa found family fic because I really felt like writing another one. I honestly just really enjoy the dynamic between the two of them and well, we need some soft family stuff after the stress season 4 and 106.5 put us through!

This one is just as long as the last one, and in the same kind of format, so I hope you all enjoy.

It's 12am right now and I've been righting since 5pm to finish this so Imma sleep while you all read, so feel free to leave a like and/or reblog if you enjoyed the fic!

“Ah, Fukuzawa-san! It’s been a while since we’ve seen you here, how have you and young Ranpo been?” Fukuzawa paused from where he’d just been about to exchange goods with the very tired looking barista behind the counter and found himself meeting the eyes of the mothers he’d managed to befriend after he and Ranpo had moved into the neighbourhood. The group of three women had come to Fukuzawa’s aid more than once in the time since he’d met them, offering sound advice that sometimes worked, and sometimes didn’t.

“Sir?” The barista sighed, reaching out for the money Fukuzawa had just been about to hand them. “As much as I’d love to just give you these, I cannot.”

“My apologies.” Fukuzawa quickly handed the money over as he spoke, wishing the barista a pleasant day before he made his way over to the group of mothers, the goods he’d purchased secured in his arms. “It has indeed been a while. Ranpo and I are doing just fine.”

“Oh, that’s good to hear.” The oldest of the group—Kimiko—said with a smile. A mother of seven, the elderly woman had a lot of advice to give; advice that Fukuzawa was more than happy to listen to as he navigated his own, unique journey of parenting. “I hope that boy of yours hasn’t been giving you too much trouble, lately. He’s a teenager, yes?”

“Yes, he is, but he’s been good.” Fukuzawa said with a nod.

“Just you wait, Fukuzawa-san,” Another mother—Saori—shook her head in exasperation, “teenagers always find a way to make you wish you’d left them in a cardboard box on the side of the road. My own daughter is currently going through a rebellious phase herself, and it’s absolutely dreadful.”

“Oh dear, what has your daughter done this time?” Akiyo, the youngest of the group, gave her companion a sympathetic look, more than ready to listen to whatever tangent Saori was about to embark on.

And this was where Fukuzawa made his escape, before he got dragged into a conversation he did not want to be a part of. “I apologize, but I must be getting home. Ranpo is waiting for me to return. Next time we meet, I’d be more than happy to have some tea with you all.”

“Oh yes, of course, sorry for holding you up, Fukuzawa-san. Don’t be a stranger. See you another day.” Saori smiled and the three women waved as Fukuzawa quickly left the café behind, letting out a sigh as the door shut behind him. He felt a little bad for leaving as abruptly as he had, but despite the tentative friendship he’d formed with the group, he found it hard to listen to the ways they went about handling their own children. Fukuzawa didn’t know if it was because he himself had skipped all the younger years of parenthood, diving straight into the teenage years the three women seemed to despise, or if it was because the relationship he had with Ranpo was different to the usual parent-child one, or if it was because Ranpo was… well, Ranpo, but he just couldn’t agree with some of the things they said and did.

But despite that, they always managed to come through when he truly needed the help.

A crisp breeze blew through the street as Fukuzawa began to walk home, bringing with it a biting chill that was a sure sign that winter was beginning to settle in. Already, the nights were cold enough for Fukuzawa to have the heater on, and the days were starting to follow suit. The wind grew stronger for just a second, causing Fukuzawa to shiver from the chill of it. He’d have to start wearing warmer clothing soon if it got any colder… and somehow convince Ranpo that he too, would need to start layering up in order to stave off the winter winds. The last thing Fukuzawa wanted was to have to deal with Ranpo getting sick again; that one time where the boy had ended up in the hospital for a week had been more than enough stress.

But despite the chill in the air, the day was rather pleasant, enough so that Fukuzawa found himself desiring to take a stroll later in the day when the sun started to set. The area they lived in was always so nice when the sun started to descend, and even prettier when the moon came out from hiding. It would also give him a chance to be alone and take some time for himself, something he didn’t get much of these days.

Don’t get him wrong, he had grown to love Ranpo over the past couple of years, and the quirks that came with the boy, but Fukuzawa had been alone for a long time before meeting Ranpo, and was used to his own company; yet Ranpo was as clingy as he was smart, and had issues with abandonment as big as the Tokyo Tower. Of course, Fukuzawa had been working on those issues with Ranpo, making sure to tell the boy how long he’d roughly be gone for and where he’d be going—even though Ranpo’s lack of directional sense meant he wouldn’t even know how to get to wherever Fukuzawa was—and always made sure that his phone was charged and off silent. He’d also learnt that it was best to be direct with Ranpo, straight up telling the kid when he needed some space to himself, and that no, it wasn’t because of Ranpo—even though it sometimes was—and that he just enjoyed his own company at times.

Ranpo always looked sullen whenever Fukuzawa left the house without him, but at least he wasn’t trying to keep him in the house anymore.

Fukuzawa turned down the street that his and Ranpo’s home was situated on and shivered once more as the wind grew stronger with its gusts, picking up the pace so that he could get back inside into the warmth of the apartment sooner rather than later. As he approached the door, Fukuzawa found himself coming to a halt as a loud crash came from inside.

He sighed.

Of course he couldn’t leave the house for an hour without Ranpo getting up to some kind of mischief. Just so long as he hasn’t set fire to the kitchen, I don’t care. Fukuzawa thought, preparing himself for what lay beyond the door for him.

“I’m home.” He called out into the suddenly silent home, frowning when he didn’t hear footsteps coming to greet him like they usually did. “Ranpo?”

Remembering the crash he’d heard, Fukuzawa felt his concern begin to rise, and he quickly toed off his sandals and placed the bags of baked goods on the kitchen counter. Both the living room and kitchen were devoid of any signs of Ranpo, although there were signs of life; papers spread across the kitchen table haphazardly, some even finding a place to live on the floor, and the remains of Ranpo’s snacks had been left on the kotatsu in the living room. Fukuzawa’s eye twitched as he distinctly remembered telling Ranpo to clean up the mess before he’d left. It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him to find his request ignored, as was the norm these days. He’d just remind him to do so once he actually found the boy.

“Ranpo?” Fukuzawa called again, finally hearing some kind of response as a noise came from the direction of Ranpo’s bedroom. It wasn’t a greeting, but rather, some rather aggressive cursing. The kind that usually came after something had gone wrong that one was desperately trying to fix before being discovered. Fukuzawa sighed and made his way towards Ranpo’s room, knocking on the closed door. “You have five seconds before I open the door, kid.”

“Please don’t come in.” Came Ranpo’s voice through the wood. It sounded a little frantic, and Fukuzawa heard a pained yelp and another crash as Ranpo undoubtedly tripped over something he’d left on his bedroom floor, which was then followed by a thud as something heavy hit the floor.

Something heavy that sounded like furniture.

Fukuzawa’s heart skipped a beat. Five seconds be damned. “I’m coming in.”

“No, no—wait!” Ranpo’s voice grew an octave, but Fukuzawa ignored it as he pushed the door open, taking in the scene before him.

Ranpo’s room was always messy, so the sight of the kids’ belongings all over the floor wasn’t a surprise to him. He’d long since given up that particular argument, although the room was messier than usual, almost as if Ranpo had been searching for something. What was surprising, was the shelves that stood next to Ranpo’s closet was no longer upright, but laying on the floor, all the books and knick knacks scattered about in the general vicinity.

And in the middle of the chaos was Ranpo, dressed in an oversized sweater and shorts, looking up at Fukuzawa from his spot on the floor with an expression that started off quite frantic, but flitted through a series of emotions before settling on nonchalance. Fukuzawa just blinked at the boy. “What happened?”

“Uh… it fell?” Ranpo was frowning now, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head.

Fukuzawa threw Ranpo a stern look.

“I may have been standing on it?”

“Are you telling me, or asking me?” Fukuzawa asked, stepping further into the room, doing his best to avoid stepping on anything in his path. “Pray tell, why you were standing on the shelving in the first place?”

“I needed something from the top shelf and you weren’t home to grab it for me.” Ranpo shrugged, making no move to stand up, or even clear a path for Fukuzawa, which irked the older man just a little. “So I decided to just grab it myself.”

“By climbing it?”

“What else was I supposed to do? Wait for you? I needed it now.” Ranpo scoffed, crossing his arms unhappily.

“Grab a chair?” Fukuzawa suggested, coming to crouch beside Ranpo, ignoring the way Ranpo’s face flushed red in embarrassment. Despite Ranpo’s high intellect, sometimes the boy did stupid things, such as scaling a bookcase like a monkey rather than do the sensible thing and grab a chair to boost him up the necessary height. But instead of scolding Ranpo, Fukuzawa just sighed. “No matter. Were you hurt?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Fukuzawa said, not believing Ranpo’s words. If the bookcase had fallen when Ranpo had been standing on it, then it must’ve fallen on top of Ranpo. Yet the boy refused to look at him, and the way he was sitting gave no indication of any hidden injury.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Ranpo snapped and climbed to his feet before he stormed from the room, slamming the door shut behind him as he left. Fukuzawa couldn’t help but blink at the abrupt departure. In the time they’d been living together, Ranpo had never slammed a door, had never been upset enough to need to be aggressive with inanimate objects. It was almost as if Ranpo had been angry, an emotion that Fukuzawa had rarely seen the kid openly express before—the last time being that night in the theatre when Ranpo had been so angry at not understanding the adult world, he’d thrown a fit—and the outburst had Fukuzawa just a little worried.

Give him some space. Fukuzawa told himself, rising to his feet and making quick work of uprighting the fallen bookcase, realizing that that must’ve been what Ranpo was doing before he’d walked in. Once the bookcase was back where it was supposed to be, Fukuzawa picked up everything he recalled seeing on the bookcase and placing it on Ranpo’s bed to be put away later. Anything he wasn’t sure about, was placed at the base of the shelf; books uncrumpled and closed, toys checked for damage before being put aside, and unknown objects receiving the same treatment. Fukuzawa didn’t dare to touch anything else and left the room once he was finished.

The bags he’d left on the counter were gone by the time he emerged, and the door to the bathroom was closed, and it was obvious that Ranpo wanted to be left alone for now. So, Fukuzawa did just that, tidying up the papers on the kitchen table and placing the rubbish left behind in the bin where it belonged. After everything was back in order, Fukuzawa set about making dinner as a way of passing the time. Dinner was never a complicated affair for the two of them, on account of Fukuzawa not being much of a cook to begin with, and Ranpo only eating one meal a day—sometimes two if he was lucky—so most of the time, dinner was literally rice, some vegetables and meat in a bowl. Sometimes Ranpo would request a specific dish that he remembered his parents making for him once, so Fukuzawa would do his best to replicate it, but that was about as fancy as dinner got.

“Ranpo, dinner’s ready.” Fukuzawa knocked on the bathroom door once he’d dished up dinner. Ranpo had yet to emerge from the bathroom, and based upon the silence he received in return, had no intention of leaving it anytime soon.

Fukuzawa sighed.

“Would you like me to put it aside for you to eat later?”

No response.

Fukuzawa bit back a second sigh, instead, bringing forth all the patience he had. “I’ll leave it in the microwave for you. Make sure you eat tonight, though. You didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”

He waited a few seconds in case Ranpo had something to say, but still received no response, so Fukuzawa made his way back to the kitchen, placing Ranpo’s portion of dinner in the microwave like he’d promised before taking his own to the table and eating it. When he was halfway through his meal, he heard the click of the bathroom door, and a soft pattering of footsteps enter the kitchen. Fukuzawa watched from the corner of his eye as Ranpo threw the most certainly empty bakery bags in the trash—he had to stop himself from saying something about that, not wanting to upset Ranpo even further, but still upset himself since not everything in that bag had been for Ranpo to begin with—before he grabbed his dinner and joined Fukuzawa at the table.

Fukuzawa caught himself staring for a moment too long, Ranpo’s eyes flickering up towards him before the boy angrily jabbed his chopsticks into food, dropping his gaze and refusing to spare his guardian a single glance while he ate. And despite how desperately Fukuzawa wanted to ask Ranpo what was bothering him to have brought about this sudden anger, he kept silent, going back to his own meal, even though the food was now tasteless and felt like dirt in his mouth.

Not a single word was shared between the two while they ate, and Ranpo only ended up eating half of his dinner before he left the table, leaving his unfinished bowl on the table for Fukuzawa to no doubt deal with. As Ranpo stood, the chair scraped against the floor harshly, the noise grating on Fukuzawa’s fraying nerves.

He couldn’t stop himself. “I understand if you need space because you are upset, but there is no need to lash out like this.”

Ranpo paused just before the hallway and looked over his shoulder, glaring at Fukuzawa, who did his best to return the glare with a calm look. He already regretted the words he’d said as they’d left his mouth, knowing that responding to Ranpo’s sour mood with his own was just going to cause an argument that would leave the both of them feeling awful. Yet, Fukuzawa was tired. Tired of constantly cleaning up after Ranpo, tired of trying to figure out what was going through the kids’ head.

Mostly, he was just tired of parenting.

Deep down, Fukuzawa knew that this was just how the whole parenting gimmick worked; after all, he’d heard about it all from Kimiko and the others over time.

“Children love nothing more than to make our lives hell, but we keep loving and guiding them regardless. That’s just what being a parent is. It’s never the child’s fault when they act out, it’s ours for failing to understand them. Even if the reasons don’t always make sense.”

The sound of a door slamming drew Fukuzawa from his thoughts and he realized that Ranpo had gone back to his room, leaving him alone to a silent house. Fukuzawa sighed, bringing one hand up so that he could rest his hand on it as he pondered over how to handle this. This wasn’t the first time that the two of them had had a disagreement, and he had a feeling that it wouldn’t be the last, but still… something about this disagreement seemed different.

But he couldn’t put a finger on what it was.

Fukuzawa sighed and stood to put away the dishes before he retired to his own room to sleep.

Tomorrow would be a better day. He was certain of it.

When Fukuzawa woke the next morning, he strongly considered staying in bed considering it felt like the entire apartment had turned to ice overnight. He could’ve sworn he’d turned the heating on before going to bed, but suddenly, he wasn’t sure if he had. Just as he was about to get up and check on the heating system, there was a knock on his door just seconds before it creaked open the tiniest bit.

“The heating’s busted.” Ranpo’s head poked around the corner of the door as he stared down at Fukuzawa, looking just as cold as Fukuzawa felt.

Well, that explains why its so cold. “I see. I’ll take a look in a moment.”

“What you don’t believe me that it’s broken?” Fukuzawa blinked at Ranpo’s words, recognizing the tone as an unhappy one. Suddenly, the optimism that he’d had last night that today would be a better day was gone, replaced by exhaustion once again.

“That’s not what I meant.” Fukuzawa got up from his futon walking over to his closet to grab out something warm to wear. From the corner of his eye, he could see Ranpo shivering and grabbed another hoodie, chucking it in the kid’s direction. “I’ll simply take a look and see if I can fix it. If not, I’ll call someone to come take a look.”

“It’s busted busted though.” Ranpo said as he pulled on the hoodie over his sleepwear.

Fukuzawa paused. “What did you do?”

“Why do you think I did something?” A defensive note crept into Ranpo’s voice, and he crossed his arms across his chest. “It went out during the night, and I woke up cold. So I looked at it.”

“And?”

Ranpo shrugged. “It’s broken.”

“Ranpo.”

“What?” Ranpo snapped, lifting his gaze from where it had been focused on the floor to glare at Fukuzawa. “What do you want me to say? It’s not like I broke it. All I did was try and fix it and it didn’t work.”

“That’s all you had to say, not make me play guessing games with you.” Fukuzawa snapped back, pushing past Ranpo to leave his room. “There’s no need to get angry with me when I don’t immediately understand what you’re trying to tell me either.”

“I’m not angry.” Ranpo said as he followed Fukuzawa down the hall.

“Really? You’ve been snapping since I got back from the bakery yesterday, so excuse me for believing otherwise.”

“I had a bookcase fall on me, of course I wasn’t going to be happy about it.” Ranpo stopped in the middle of the living room. “And then you barged in when I told you not to and started looking at me like I was stupid!”

“Ranpo—”

“And then when I tried to give myself space, you kept bothering me!” Ranpo continued, pretending as if Fukuzawa hadn’t even tried to say anything. “I don’t need you judging me, I’ve had enough of that from everyone else in my life!”

“Ranpo!” Fukuzawa yelled, shutting the boy up before he could continue on his rant. Fukuzawa studied the way that Ranpo’s fists were clenched tight, shaking slightly from the tension within them, and how his bangs were carefully obstructing his eyes from view. Fukuzawa took a breath, trying to calm himself, even though his voice still came out rather terse. “Do not yell to make your point. Go cool off. When you are calm, we can talk.”

“Whatever.” Ranpo pushed past Fukuzawa, making his way towards the front door. Fukuzawa let him go, watching Ranpo pull his shoes on and leave, wincing at the loud slam that followed. And sighed. This was not how he’d imagined his morning going, not in the slightest, and he found himself staring at the door, wondering how it had gone so wrong in the first place.

Fukuzawa moved to sit on the couch, tipping his head to rest against the back of it as he thought back on Ranpo’s words. There had to be some kind of hint within what Ranpo had said that would enlighten Fukuzawa as to what was bothering his ward, yet the longer Fukuzawa thought on it, the more confused he was. He recalled Ranpo saying that he’d been upset by the falling bookcase—which was fair, and completely understandable—but Fukuzawa couldn’t understand what had caused the bad mood to last so long. Only Ranpo would be able to tell him just what it was that had upset him, so Fukuzawa resigned himself to waiting for Ranpo’s return, preparing himself for what to say.

Midday came, and Ranpo wasn’t home.

Sunset arrived, and still, Ranpo wasn’t home.

Fukuzawa tried to stop himself from worrying. It wasn’t the first time that Ranpo had been gone an entire day, even though they didn’t happen all that often, so he sat on the couch and watched the clock as time ticked by. He’d give Ranpo until the time they usually had dinner before he started worrying.

It was nine o’clock and Ranpo hadn’t walked through the door.

The worry that Fukuzawa had carefully buried sprung free, washing over him along with a feeling of absolute dread. Unable to stay sitting, he began to pace, pressing his phone to his ear as he dialled Ranpo’s number, only to freeze as he heard the device begin to ring from the kid’s room. His heart began to pound, so loud that he could hear it in his ears, feel it trying to escape from his chest. He took a breath to calm himself.

But he couldn’t stop the worry from turning into fear.

Ranpo was outside, alone, with no way of contacting him.

I have to find him. The thought was quick, and barely processed before Fukuzawa was flying around the house, pulling on his warmest clothing while also making sure he grabbed an extra jacket, remembering that Ranpo hadn’t gotten dressed before he’d left and that the nights were almost winter temperatures despite it still being early fall. He took the time to scribble a quick note just in case Ranpo happened to come home while he was gone and left the apartment, shutting the door, but leaving it unlocked.

He'd be scolded for it later, he was almost certain of it, but in that moment, all Fukuzawa could care about was finding Ranpo and apologizing to the kid. What for, he still didn’t know, but maybe the chill in the air would help him figure it out.

Where are you, Ranpo? Fukuzawa turned down yet another street after the one he’d just checked had yielded no results, the same as all the usual spots Fukuzawa had checked that Ranpo might’ve been hiding at. The man let out a shiver as a gust of wind chilled him right to the bone. At this point he didn’t care if Ranpo never forgave him for what it was that he’d done, just so long as he found the boy safe and sound.

But it had been an hour since Fukuzawa had started searching, and his fear was starting to turn into barely restrained panic. What was he supposed to do if he couldn’t find Ranpo? He’d have to call the police, that much was certain, but what could he say? Ranpo was a teenager, and it seemed to be common knowledge amongst law enforcement that teens often ran away from home, so what would stop them from just brushing Fukuzawa’s worry off like he shouldn’t be worried about the child he’d promised to protect being out on the streets alone.

If he got desperate, there was one person he could call for help, but he’d rather not indebt himself to a certain underground doctor if he didn’t have to.

And really, what would it say about Fukuzawa if he had to rely on someone else to find Ranpo for him? He’d taken pride in how he’d managed to come to understand the boy he’d taken in—even though it had taken a long time—and a part of him was confident that he could find Ranpo. Even if he was mad, Ranpo wouldn’t have wandered too far, that much Fukuzawa knew at least. But he’d checked every—

He paused.

There was one place he’d neglected to check, a place that the two of them had only visited once and while within walking distance from their apartment, was still further than Ranpo was comfortable travelling, especially on his own.

But he had nothing else to go off, so without another thought, Fukuzawa turned on his heel and to walk, hoping that he was right.

And he was.

Fukuzawa let out a sigh of relief, feeling the fear that had kept him going these past hours draining out of him, leaving him with just exhaustion and relief. The small park that rose to meet him was a welcome sight, as was the lone figure curled up against the lone cherry blossom tree that stood in the middle. The park was a little hidden gem that he and Ranpo had discovered while exploring the neighbourhood after they’d just moved in; a peaceful little place not big enough for children to play in, so it was left alone for the most part. In reality, it was just a walking path, used to get from one point to another without having to walk to the end of the street and back down another, but to the two of them, it was a park, a place to come to when one needed time to gather their thoughts.

There were other trees along the path, guiding people along, but the lone cherry blossom stood off from the rest of them, on a small rise that made it just that little bit taller than the others. It was almost as if it had been planted and forgotten about long ago, left to grow, alone and isolated from the other trees. Or maybe it had been here first, and the other trees had been planted after it? Who was to say?

Regardless, that lone tree had been there for the two of them just as much as they had been for each other. Fukuzawa carefully made his way over towards the tree, unable to stop the frown that adorned his face when he saw the shivers running through Ranpo’s body. Ranpo was curled up as small as he could make himself, hugging himself tight to conserve what little warmth he still had, and the hood of Fukuzawa’s hoodie pulled over his head, hiding his face from view.

Even though he had brought along a coat for this specific purpose, Fukuzawa found himself shrugging off his own coat and crouching to drape it over Ranpo’s shoulders. Immediately, Ranpo huddled into the warmth, drawing the coat around himself tighter. Fukuzawa didn’t hesitate to layer the second coat over the top, letting it cover Ranpo’s head even more.

“I’m sorry.” Fukuzawa said as he continued to crouch.

A singular green eye looked at him as Ranpo lifted his head slightly, an unreadable look on his face. A few minutes of silence passed before Ranpo finally spoke. “Why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know.” Fukuzawa admitted. “I understand I upset you somehow, but I do not know what I did.”

Ranpo hummed. He dropped his head again.

Fukuzawa waited patiently.

“It’s stupid.” Ranpo finally said.

“It’s not stupid if it made you run away.”

Ranpo’s head moved again, and Fukuzawa was graced with the presence of both eyes this time, rimmed in red. Ranpo had been crying. “Then you’ll think it’s stupid.”

“Tell me anyway.” Fukuzawa said, shifting so that he could sit on the ground, ignoring how cold it was. He was more than willing to endure a bit of cold if it led to Ranpo opening up to him.

Ranpo fidgeted for some time, deep in thought as he tried to gather his words together. It wasn’t often that Ranpo found it hard to say what it was that he wanted to, but even someone as blunt as him could be rendered speechless at times.

Let him be the one to guide the conversation. The words filtered into his mind, advice he’d been given once when first learning how to navigate parenting, advice that had so far, not failed him when he’d needed it. So Fukuzawa continued to wait.

“You looked at me like I was stupid.” Ranpo said quietly.

Fukuzawa frowned, confused. Had he? “When did I do that?”

“When the bookcase fell.” Ranpo hunched in on himself. “You looked at me like I was stupid.”

But it was stupid. Fukuzawa found himself thinking, not that he dared to voice his thoughts. Instead, he tried to recall just what kind of face he’d been making at the time, but couldn’t quite remember. He was almost certain that it hadn’t been the expression that Ranpo had thought he’d seen. “If that was how it looked to you in the moment, then I apologize. However, it was foolish to not think through climbing the bookcase. You could’ve been hurt.”

“I know that, now.”

“But that’s not the only reason, is it? Why you were angry, I mean.”

Ranpo shook his head. “I got angry when you came into my room. When I told you no. And then you kept pushing when I was trying to think and I got mad.”

“Ah…”

“Told you it was stupid.”

“It’s not.” It was Fukuzawa’s turn to shake his head. “You had every right to be upset when I entered your room when you didn’t want me to. I apologize for that. But what about this morning? When you left the house.”

“Insecurities.” Was all Ranpo said, and was the only answer Fukuzawa needed. Everyone had their moments where their inner demons got the better of them, and Ranpo’s demons of not being enough were no better. Ranpo must’ve been trying to get back onto Fukuzawa’s good side when the heating had gone down by trying to fix it, only to have it not go the way he’d planned and end up feeling worse as a result. Which explained why the boy had been so quick to anger at the time.

“I understand.” And Fukuzawa did, which was why he was more than happy to leave the conversation at that. “How about we go home? You must be freezing.”

Ranpo nodded, accepting Fukuzawa’s hand to pull himself upright, wrapping the jackets around him more as he shivered. “Did you get the heating fixed?”

“I forgot to after our argument. I’ll call them in the morning. There should be some more blankets if you need them.” Fukuzawa said, just barely catching the way Ranpo’s face fell at his words. He let out a quiet sigh and crouched in front of Ranpo, an obvious invitation. “Or if you want, you can sleep in my room.”

A cold, but slowly warming weight draped itself across Fukuzawa’s back, and the older man stood, making sure Ranpo was secure before he started walking. “’kay. Can we have hot chocolate when we get back?”

“I’ll make some.”

-----

Shopping was by far, the worst thing in existence. Fukuzawa found it hard to believe that there were actually people that enjoyed going out to the busy shopping centres and browsing the stores there for hours on end. If people just came out and bought what they needed, then the shopping experience would be so much better in his opinion. Fukuzawa sighed as he dodged yet another group of students loitering in the middle of the walkway, chatting with each other almost like there was literally nowhere else for them to do so. But Fukuzawa kept his head down and didn’t say anything. The longer he remained in the centre, the more his sanity would decline.

Normally, he didn’t need to set foot in the local shopping centre, everything he needed could usually be found at the small convenience store or at the weekly markets. But unfortunately, clothes were one thing that couldn’t be found at either of those, so he’d braved the crowds—after school hours no less—and walked around the many clothing stores, trying to find clothing that catered to his ward’s tastes.

Because Ranpo refused to set foot in such a crowded place unless it was for work, and the boy had been very firm in telling Fukuzawa that shopping for clothes was not a good enough reason. Fukuzawa had tried to argue that Ranpo come along to at least try on the clothes he was buying, but still, Ranpo had stood his ground, going as far as to shut himself away in the bathroom until Fukuzawa had given up and asked for measurements so he could at least buy the right size clothing.

Fukuzawa couldn’t wait to get out of the building so he could go home; all he had to left to do was buy socks, which should’ve been the easiest task of them all, but no, he had to buy the right kind of socks because if they were wrong then Ranpo was nothing if not fussy about what kind of socks he wore. Well, he was fussy about everything he wore, but when it came to socks, the fussiness was dialled to the extreme; it tended to drive Fukuzawa up the wall, yet he still did it anyway.

Because he cared.

The next time Ranpo tried to argue that Fukuzawa didn’t care enough, he was going to make the boy do his own clothes shopping.

The store he needed came into few and Fukuzawa relaxed. Finally, he would be done and free to go home. Quickly, he tracked down the nearest staff member and watched as their face went from ready to help, to mildly horrified as he asked them for twenty pairs of a specific pair of socks, which they thankfully had in stock. Just as fast as he’d gotten the socks, he paid for them and promptly fled the store, mentally hoping that the next time he had to set foot inside, it would have new staff that wouldn’t remember him and his request. Look at me… a former swordsman shopping for socks of all things.

Fukuzawa felt his phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out, seeing that Ranpo had messaged him. He stared at the notification for a couple of minutes, steeling himself for what the message may contain; the phone buzzing once more with another message. He flipped it open.

[16:43]

Greatest Detective: Are you still shopping?

[16:45]

Greatest Detective: Don’t ignore me.

Cat Dad: I am. Did you need something?

Fukuzawa bit back a sigh at seeing the nickname Ranpo had changed his name to, vowing to change it back when it got a chance to, although cat dad was certainly better than the original old man he’d started off with. He watched as the text bubble indicating Ranpo was typing popped up and then disappeared, repeating itself several times. Fukuzawa narrowed his eyes at his phone; Ranpo was delaying in telling him, which meant one of two things. One, he’d broken or lost something that he needed replaced, or two, it was going to be something stupid.

Bzzt. Finally.

[16:50]

Greatest Detective: Bandages.

Cat Dad: What did you do?

Greatest Detective: Nothing hospital worthy.

Fukuzawa sighed, turning away from the entrance he’d been making his way towards, heading towards the pharmacy he’d passed by earlier. He tapped out a response.

[16:51]

Cat Dad: I’ll get some. Don’t move until I get home.

“I hope you know how lucky you were.” Fukuzawa said as he dabbed Ranpo’s face with a damp cloth, carefully wiping away the blood that marred the kid’s face and apologizing when he winced. “How did you even fall off the balcony in the first place?”

Ranpo kicked his foot anxiously against the cupboard door; Ranpo sitting on the kitchen bench rather than a chair because it had been easier for Fukuzawa to clean up the boy’s wounds if he was at eye level. Fukuzawa was honestly impressed that after falling from their second story apartment, that Ranpo had only come away with minor injuries; a sprained wrist being the worst of the injuries, although the amount of blood had nearly given Fukuzawa a heart attack. Wiping away most of the blood had revealed a few cuts and lots of scrapes that could be easily treated with some antiseptic and band aids.

“I didn’t mean to.” Ranpo huffed, jerking away when Fukuzawa was a little too rough. Fukuzawa apologized before lightening his touch. “I was sitting outside and the wind caught one of my cases, so I tried to catch it, and went over the balcony.”

Fukuzawa sucked in a breath, knowing exactly how much worse this little accident could’ve been. He pulled back, chucking the bloodied cloth in the sink to be disposed of later before he grabbed a plaster to put on Ranpo’s cheek. “You are lucky.” He repeated.

“I know. Don’t need to remind me.”

Fukuzawa nodded, and instead gestured towards Ranpo’s wrist. “How’s the swelling?”

Ranpo pulled away the bag of frozen peas—because apparently the ice pack Fukuzawa had thought they’d owned had vanished—and Fukuzawa gently took the injured limb into his gentle grasp, the irony that it was the same wrist that Ranpo had broken years ago not lost on him. “It doesn’t look too bad. I’ll wrap it for now and we’ll see how it goes.”

A nod was the only response he got, so Fukuzawa let the silence continue has he pulled out the bandages he’d only just bought and began to wrap them around Ranpo’s wrist, making sure that they weren’t too tight, but not too loose either.

Once he was done, he stepped back to admire his handiwork, and nodded. “All done. No more balconies, okay?”

“Yes, Fukuzawa-san.” Ranpo sighed, shimmying off the bench and cleaning up the medical supplies, putting them back in the first aid kit where they belonged, while Fukuzawa went about preparing that night’s dinner. The silence between the two of them lasted approximately two minutes before Ranpo started speaking again. “Did you go check out that building that that Natsume guy told you about?”

“I did. It’s not the entire building, only the fourth floor, but it’s in a good location. It has a café below it.”

“A café?” Ranpo’s eyes lit up in delight as he spun to face Fukuzawa, looking like Christmas had come early. And well, when sweets were involved, it may as well have been. “You didn’t eat there without me, did you?”

Fukuzawa raised an eyebrow and gave Ranpo a look. “Of course not. I want you to see the building anyway before I confirm anything, so you can come with me next time and we’ll get lunch there. How does that sound?”

Ranpo grinned up at him without saying anything, the smile more than enough to bring a smile to Fukuzawa’s own face. “Is that enough bribery to get you to help with dinner?”

“Nope!”

Why is it so busy? How do all these people live in Yokohama? Fukuzawa grimaced as he bumped against another passenger that was standing inches away from him. The passenger threw him a dirty look before inching away, but where he intended to go, Fukuzawa didn’t know because the train was cramped, filled with people on their way to work, and students on their way to school. He’d completely forgotten about the morning rush that day as he’d dragged Ranpo out of bed and out of the house with the intention of seeing the potential building they would use as a base for their detective agency, and he was very much regretting not waiting an extra hour. The only consolation was that most of the crowd should empty by the next stop… hopefully.

“Ouch! Watch where you’re standing if you’re gonna lose your balance like that!” Ranpo’s voice snapped, and Fukuzawa refocused his attention on the present. Ranpo had been separated from him when they’d gotten on the train, but he was still close enough that if Fukuzawa really wanted to, he could reach across people and grab him. Right now, though, Ranpo was glaring up at a tall businessman that threatened to tower over Fukuzawa, cradling his injured wrist against his chest. There was a slightly pained look to the boy’s face, and it didn’t take long for Fukuzawa to put together that the man had bumped into his wrist.

“Maybe you shouldn’t stand so close if you don’t want to be stepped on, kid.” The man growled, leaning over in a way that had Ranpo leaning back to avoid him. Ranpo’s eyes widened just the tiniest amount, and Fukuzawa saw his throat move as he swallowed uneasily.

Oh no you don’t. “Excuse me.” Fukuzawa said gently as he began to move, carefully navigating between disgruntled passengers before he came to a stop behind Ranpo, dropping one hand on the kids’ shoulder, while the other went to grab a hold of the grip. His eyes met that of the businessman “Is there a problem, sir?”

The businessman, who did indeed tower over Fukuzawa, lifted his gaze to glare at Fukuzawa, who was more than happy to return it. He wasn’t called the Silver Wolf for nothing after all. The two stared at each other intensely, other passengers looking at them warily and edging away where possible. Finally, the man looked away. “Tch. There’s no problem. Teach your kid some manners.”

“Manners? It’s you—” Fukuzawa squeezed Ranpo’s shoulder warningly to stop him from continuing.

“It’s not worth it.” He said, shifting so that he was between the man and Ranpo. “You alright?”

Ranpo seemed to deflate, the tension Fukuzawa hadn’t noticed until he’d been standing behind him leaving his body a little, although he still appeared to be on edge. Ranpo let go of the grip in favour of holding onto Fukuzawa’s yukata. “I’m fine.” He said, his fist tightening its grip. “He knocked my wrist, that’s all.”

Fukuzawa nodded. “Just stay close, we’ll be there soon.”

Ranpo nodded and stepped closer to Fukuzawa, hiding away from the world in the only way he seemed to know how. Not that Fukuzawa minded, as he wrapped his free arm around Ranpo’s shoulders. Thankfully, the train began to slow, coming to a stop and Fukuzawa felt like he could breathe again as the train began to empty; new passengers embarking, but as the train started off again, it was clear in the way everyone seemed more relaxed, that it was much emptier than before.

Small mercies.

After another twenty minutes, they reached their stop, and Fukuzawa guided Ranpo off the train and away from the rest of the crowd. “Show me your wrist.” Fukuzawa said once he’d found a quiet place.

Ranpo looked up at him with a confused look, but offered the limb up anyway. “What, do you think a little bump is going to make it worse? As if. I’m not that fragile.”

“I’m just making sure.” Fukuzawa explained, ignoring Ranpo’s ‘fragile’ comment entirely, satisfied when the bandages seemed to be as tight as they had been when he’d wrapped the limb that morning. “Let’s go.”

“Ah, can we…” Ranpo started before trailing off.

Fukuzawa looked over his shoulder, a touch concerned when he noticed Ranpo seemed paler than before. “What is it?”

“Can we wait a minute? For the crowds to leave, I mean.”

Fukuzawa looked over at the crowds in question, and for once, was more than happy to adhere to Ranpo’s request. There were a lot of people leaving and entering the station, more than he was willing to force his way through. It would be far easier on the both of them if they waited for the crowd to thin before continuing on their way. “Sure, the buildings not going anywhere. We can wait.”

As it turned out, the crowds within the station were not exclusive to the station, because when Fukuzawa and Ranpo finally managed to get out of the station, the streets were just as busy. There were people literally everywhere, and it was admittedly, a little disorienting. He could feel Ranpo’s grip on his clothes tighten as a huge crowd of workers bustled around them, carrying on without a care in the world. Is there something happening? Fukuzawa frowned, making sure he had a hold of Ranpo as he guided the boy down the street, doing his best to avoid them running into other people. The crowds continued to grow, people chattering excitedly as they walked in the same direction.

“Can we find another route?” Ranpo’s quiet voice was almost drowned out by the cacophony of the crowd; if not for Fukuzawa keeping an ear out for his ward, he wouldn’t have heard the words at all.

And Fukuzawa would’ve loved to have taken another route that would take them away from the crowds, but this was the only route he knew—for now at least, he’d make sure to learn other routes in case this happened again—and he didn’t particularly want to drag out the commute any longer than necessary. “This is the only way, I’m afraid. Just bear with it a little longer.”

There was a reason why Fukuzawa left Ranpo behind when going into overly crowded areas.

Ranpo’s knuckles were white where they were clutching at him.

Pushing Ranpo in front of him, Fukuzawa began to force his way through the crowd, using his taller frame to carve a path. The crowd had steadily been building, and as they rounded a corner, Fukuzawa realized why there had been such a large group of people gathering. How convenient, that on the one day he brought Ranpo with him, it would also be the same day as the opening of the new shopping complex a few streets down from their destination. Fukuzawa’s pace slowed, natural-born curiosity causing him to look over at the shiny new building.

Several things happened then.

Loud cheers erupted from the gathered people.

Ranpo fell to his knees, clapping his hands over his ears, eyes squeezed together.

The doors to the building opened.

In a split second, Fukuzawa made a decision and reached down to wrap a hand around Ranpo’s upper arm and pull, forcibly dragging the boy to his feet. Normally, he wouldn’t be so rough, coaxing Ranpo into moving rather than forcing him, but once the crowd began to move, it was no longer about comfort, but making sure that Ranpo didn’t get trampled. Fukuzawa was quick, pulling Ranpo close and fighting against the tide. All the while, Ranpo stumbled behind him, eyes shut and body trembling.

Finally, the crowd opened up, and the two of them were free from people, but still, Fukuzawa didn’t stop moving. He kept dragging Ranpo behind him until he spotted a public bathroom, dragging the two of them into the safety of the empty—thankfully—building. It was then that Ranpo jerked away from him, falling to the ground, and curling into a ball, the emotions he’d been holding back breaking free. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and his breathing turned into a stuttering mess. He was panicking, and Fukuzawa could do nothing but watch.

Such an event had happened before, not long after Fukuzawa had taken Ranpo in, where they’d been shopping for supplies after moving into their current apartment. Fukuzawa hadn’t been able to recognize the signs at first, chalking up Ranpo’s hesitance of entering the building as more of a reluctance. But the shopping centre had been busy that day, and Ranpo had frozen stiff when they’d wound up in a particularly busy section. Ranpo had frozen for exactly ten seconds before the emotions had exploded out of him, and he’d become a panicked mess; Fukuzawa near panic himself. In the end, he’d scooped Ranpo off the ground and fled the centre, which had made the panic worse, and he’d wound up being punched in the face by a small fist. It was the first time Fukuzawa had experienced a panic attack from Ranpo, and he’d been hoping to never experience another one.

But of course, he was never that lucky.

Fukuzawa sat on the floor near Ranpo, near enough so that his presence was known, but not close enough that he’d make the panic worse. After that day in the mall, Ranpo had described how the panic had felt to him—like he was being squeezed and suffocated at the same time by some unknown force.

“What helps?” Fukuzawa had asked.

“Nothing.” Ranpo had whispered in return.

After the first panic attack, Fukuzawa had read up on them, reading stories about what had helped other people, and advice for what to do if someone you knew was experiencing one, so theoretically, he knew he could probably help. But none of that advice was applicable to Ranpo, not when the boy himself didn’t know what helped him. So, Fukuzawa was left to watch as Ranpo gasped and choked on the air, body shaking so violently, it was closer to a seizure than panic; emotions running rampant throughout his body.

Fukuzawa frowned, trying to think of anything he could do to help. Supposedly touch helped some people calm down, the physical contact between two people grounding them to reality and reassuring them that they weren’t alone. He didn’t know if Ranpo would appreciate being touched, so Fukuzawa scooted just that little bit closer so that he could lay his hand beside Ranpo’s curled fist, his fingers brushing the others hand just enough to let him know it was there.

He was rewarded when Ranpo’s hand latched onto his own, squeezing tightly with strength he didn’t know Ranpo even had. Fukuzawa rubbed his thumb across smooth skin, brushing over the knuckles in a repetitive, soothing motion. As he did so, he took deep breaths, exaggerating them so that Ranpo could clearly hear him—he’d heard that that was another technique one could use during a panic attack—and after another minute or so of Ranpo breathing erratically, his breaths began to sync up to Fukuzawa’s own. Once or twice, Ranpo’s breath would hitch and pick up speed, but a quick squeeze of Fukuzawa’s hand stopped it from getting out of hand again.

Eventually, Ranpo unfurled from his balled-up position, although he didn’t make a move to get up off the floor. He was blinking dazedly at nothing in particular, and looked exhausted.

Fukuzawa tapped his thumb against the back of Ranpo’s hand, drawing the boy’s attention towards him. He kept his voice low. “How are you feeling?”

Ranpo blinked at him. “Tired.”

“Do you want to go home?” Fukuzawa asked.

The grip on his hand tightened momentarily before it relaxed. A small nod followed.

“Can I touch you?”

Another nod.

With a nod of his own, Fukuzawa gave a gentle tug, and Ranpo inched closer. Another tug brought the kid into his arms and Fukuzawa didn’t hesitate to stand, bringing Ranpo with him. One arm went around his neck and the other latched onto his yukata, a head burying itself into his shoulder. No words were said—not that they needed to be—as Fukuzawa strode out of the bathroom, his phone in hand to call a taxi to take them home. There was no way in hell he was going to risk taking the train back home, not with Ranpo still feeling the effects of being overwhelmed. Fukuzawa tightened his grip; he should’ve realized what was happening the moment Ranpo had asked him for a break.

Ranpo was good at hiding his discomfort, often believing that any weakness shown in public was a sign of him being different. After all, normal people didn’t have emotional breakdowns and panic attacks when the crowds got too large, according to Ranpo anyway. Fukuzawa had been quick to refute that argument, refusing to let it become a mindset. Some people loved crowds, and others hated them, and it didn’t matter which you were, anyone was at risk of being overwhelmed. Ranpo was unfortunately, just one of the people that was more at risk.

“We’ll go another day. Just focus on staying calm.” Fukuzawa soothed as he ran a hand through Ranpo’s hair when he felt another shiver against his leg. Thankfully, the two of them hadn’t had to wait long for a taxi, and despite the exuberant fare, Fukuzawa had asked the driver to take them back to the apartment. He’d winced at the final price—maybe he could convince Natsume-sensei to reimburse him under ‘work related expenses’—and left the driver behind after paying.

Now, they were both back home and safe, the apartment silent compared to the crowds they’d been subjected to. Ranpo was curled up on the couch beside him, facing the back of it with a blanket covering his entire body in an attempt to hide. Every now and then, Ranpo’s body would tremble, and every time, Fukuzawa would run a hand through his hair, repeating his earlier words. It was all he could do in that moment, when only time would be able to heal the damage caused today.

But that was okay, Fukuzawa was a patient man, so he’d sit for as long as he was needed, until Ranpo felt better.

-----

How could I let this happen? Fukuzawa sighed, leaning back in the chair he’d been sitting in for several hours now, unwilling to move no matter how many doctors and nurses told him to take a walk, or go home to shower. He couldn’t, not when he’d be going home to an empty apartment, not when Ranpo was lying right there, on the bed in front of him, hooked up to various tubes and wires, unable to come home with him.

They’d been working with the local police force on a case; a serial killer that had been targeting young men and woman, beating, and torturing them until they grew tired and slit the victim’s wrist, watching as they bled out in front of them, watching the life leave their eyes in some sick twisted fantasy only the killer could understand. Fukuzawa had only seen the one corpse, the one that had been the reason why he and Ranpo had been called out in the first place, and the sight of the poor boy’s mutilated corpse had managed to rattle even his steel resolve, leaving him with a nauseous feeling. Even Ranpo had looked disturbed once he’d gazed upon the corpse, faltering on their approach. But that had only lasted a moment before he’d continued on, determination on his face, ready to solve this case.

And solve it he had. Ranpo, in a way that Fukuzawa had long since grown used to, spat facts and evidence at the officers that hadn’t even picked up on in their initial scan of the crime scene like the crime itself was being replayed in front of him. Even after all these years, Fukuzawa was always in awe of the way Ranpo solved cases, and this one was no different. With barely any effort, Ranpo had deduced the methods and motives of the killer, and from there, the identity of the killer.

That was all it should’ve been.

But it wasn’t.

The killer had been watching from the crowd that had formed, had been waiting for Ranpo to appear on the scene to enact his carefully cultivated plan of revenge. Because while Ranpo had been able to deduce the motives behind the deaths of the other victims, he had somehow missed the trap lying behind the trail of corpses. Fukuzawa had watched, unable to react fast enough, as Ranpo and walked over to an unsuspecting elderly woman and revealed her identity as the murderer the police were looking for. The woman had simply done nothing more than stare, before a manic grin appeared and shots were fired.

Somehow, somehow, they’d missed the signs of a second murderer, the woman’s daughter on the roof of the building.

The shots had caused everyone to look towards the sound, some officers already running towards the building with their own guns drawn.

The distraction had been long enough for the elderly woman to pull out a knife and by the time Fukuzawa had refocused on her, the damage had already been done.

He was never going to forget the sight of Ranpo choking on his own blood.

Fukuzawa hadn’t even thought, flying towards the woman, knocking her unconscious with a well-placed hit, leaving her for the police to deal with while he’d gone to Ranpo’s side, putting pressure on the worst injury he could see; a bullet wound to the chest. Ranpo had looked up at him with wide eyes, expression one of fear. For years, Fukuzawa had feared for such a day, where he wouldn’t be able to act fast enough to stop a killer from harming Ranpo. For years, Fukuzawa had done his best to protect the boy under his care, only failing sometimes—although they’d only ever been minor injuries that could be treated at home.

This was—

This was—

It was the stuff of nightmares. Fukuzawa had shed a lot of blood over the years, taken many lives himself, and failed to save just as many. But this was different. This was a boy he’d chosen to protect, chosen to bring into his life and care for as if he was his own, despite knowing nothing about parenting. And now that boy was bleeding out in front of him, gasping and choking for air his lungs were unable to take in. One of Ranpo’s bloodied hands and come to clutch at his sleeve, his eyes not leaving Fukuzawa’s own. He’d been speaking to Ranpo, reassuring him that everything would be fine, all the while keeping pressure.

The sirens fast approaching had been a blessing in disguise, and Fukuzawa would be eternally grateful to the bystander’s that had called the ambulance.

How could I let this happen?

He’s still just a boy.

I failed him.

Those were the thoughts that swirled throughout Fukuzawa’s mind as he rode with the paramedics to the hospital, and those were the thoughts that followed him as he waited in the waiting room while Ranpo was rushed off to surgery. And those same three thoughts continued to ravage his mind, even as a kind nurse had crouched before him and cleaned his hands of Ranpo’s blood, reassuring him that everything would be fine, and that Ranpo was in capable hands. Empty words; Fukuzawa would only believe that Ranpo would be fine when he saw him with his own two eyes.

Which was how he’d ended up sitting in a hard plastic chair for hours on end, watching over Ranpo whilst machines kept him alive. Fukuzawa had almost panicked when the doctor had told him that, but the doctor—amazingly, the same one that had treated Ranpo every time they came to the hospital—had reassured him many times that Ranpo had simply been placed into a medical coma in order to give his body time to heal from the injuries he’d sustained.

“It’s just for a few days. The surgery was rough on him, so we want to give him some time to heal first before letting him wake up.”

That was what the doctor had said before leaving Fukuzawa to his thoughts, and since then, Fukuzawa hadn’t moved. One of the nurses had been kind enough to bring Fukuzawa something to eat during the night, but he’d barely been able to stomach the simple meal, far too focused on the fact that Ranpo could’ve died—could still die. Fukuzawa sighed, leaning over so that he could rest his arms on the bed, one of his hands reaching over to cover one of Ranpo’s own, taking care to avoid jostling the IV in his hand. He allowed his head to rest on top of the covers and felt his eyes begin to close; there was no hope in him sleeping, but he could at least rest his eyes.

Just for a little while.

“Fukuzawa-san, are you sure you don’t want to go home, even just for an hour?” One of the nurses assigned to Ranpo’s care asked him as she flitted about the room, carefully checking on Ranpo’s healing wounds without so much as disturbing the boy.

“I’m fine here.” Fukuzawa said, watching her work. “It’s been—”

“Only three days.” The nurse interrupted him, giving Fukuzawa a kind smile, one that he was sure was effective in soothing her patients. “I know the waiting game is hard, Fukuzawa-san, but do your best to be patient. His injuries are healing well, and we were able to remove the intubation tube this morning. I’m certain Ranpo-san will wake up when he’s ready.”

What if he’s never ready to wake up? Fukuzawa couldn’t help but remember the way frightened, green eyes stared at him. It was the most frightened Fukuzawa had ever seen Ranpo look, and, well, what if Ranpo was too scared to wake up? What if his mind was somehow warning him that it wasn’t safe for him to wake up yet, and that was why he was still unconscious?

“Fukuzawa-san.” He looked up again, not having realized he’d dropped his head, into the nurses’ eyes. “Go home. Take a shower, and have something to eat. I’m about to go on break, so I can sit with him until you return.”

Despite every fibre of his being screaming at him to not leave, Fukuzawa gave a resigned nod, standing from the chair, ignoring the way the world swirled around him briefly from having been sat in the same position for so long. He really did not want to leave Ranpo alone, but he knew that if Ranpo woke up and found out he’d been neglecting his own health, the kid would give him a lecture.

“You always tell me to stop and take care of myself, so you need to do the same!”

“I’ll be back in an hour.” Fukuzawa promised as he left the room, Ranpo’s hypothetical words on his mind as he did so.

Another two days passed without Ranpo waking, and Fukuzawa had fallen into a routine with the night shift nurses. Before their shift would start, one of them would come and sit with Ranpo while he went home and took care of himself before returning to his post by Ranpo’s bedside where he would remain until the next night shift started. Despite the fact that the nurses had every authority to throw him out of the hospital once visiting hours were technically over, they never did; allowing him to sit vigil every night, for which he was grateful. It was better than the one night he’d gone home and fallen asleep when he’d sat on the couch; he’d been plagued by nightmares of being too late, and the sounds of choking, the smell of blood as pungent as if he’d been bathing in it.

He made sure not to fall asleep unless he was by Ranpo’s bedside since then, the boy’s presence enough to reassure his subconscious into giving him a dreamless sleep—if he slept at all, that is.

Ranpo’s injuries were healing slowly, but surely, according to the doctor that had visited that morning, and he’d been able to be moved to his own room instead of remaining in intensive care, no longer at risk of dying, not unless the world decided to be particularly vengeful towards a boy whose biggest fault was his addiction to sweets. The only thing they were waiting for, was for Ranpo to regain consciousness.

The doctor’s had told him that despite being unconscious, it was quite possible that Ranpo would be able to hear and feel things still; they’d said that comatose patients could often recall when visitors touched them, or spoken to them—not full memories, but partial ones—and that knowledge had been enough for Fukuzawa to bring a book back with him to read, along with the soft blanket from Ranpo’s bed. He’d worried they wouldn’t allow the blanket, but the nurse on duty had taken one look at it and helped him tuck it around Ranpo’s still form.

Right now, he was reading out loud, having pushed his chair next to the head of the bed so he could read quietly. One of his hands was resting in its usual spot atop of Ranpo’s own, a comforting presence that Ranpo could hopefully feel wherever he was. Fukuzawa wasn’t really paying attention to the book, his attention focused more on the beeping of the heart monitor and the rise and fall of Ranpo’s chest, but he did his best, keeping up a steady stream of words.

“Mmhm.” The sound was soft, but in the silence of the room, it may as well have been a gunshot, and Fukuzawa’s attention was no longer on the book, instead he stared at the boy in the bed, waiting, hoping, that what he’d heard hadn’t been a part of his imagination.

One eye cracked open, and Fukuzawa let out the breath he’d been holding upon seeing that brilliant green that he hadn’t seen in nearly a week. He kept quiet, staying calm, even as the eye drifted shut again, a soft sigh falling from Ranpo’s mouth. Fukuzawa felt tears form in his own eyes and fought to keep them falling. There would be time to shed tears later, but for now, he’d rejoice in the fact that Ranpo had woken up, albeit for not even minute.

The weight crushing his chest vanished.

It wasn’t until that evening, just as the doctor had done his usual check before going home, that Ranpo properly woke up. Because, of course he couldn’t wake up at a convenient time. The doctor had literally just left the room when Ranpo’s eyes—both of them this time—opened and fell to look at Fukuzawa. Fukuzawa had clasped Ranpo’s hand gently, giving it a squeeze as he called for the doctor. As the doctor scurried back into the room, Fukuzawa smiled at Ranpo.

“Welcome back.”

“Did you cry over me?” Ranpo asked as he shoved another spoonful of pudding into his mouth, gazing at Fukuzawa curiously, even though it came off more as if he was staring straight into Fukuzawa’s soul. It was rather daunting to be subjected to that gaze usually, but just for today, he welcomed it.

“I think anyone would cry when someone is bleeding out in front of them.” Fukuzawa said from his spot on the edge of the bed. After Ranpo had woken up and been examined by the doctor, the detective had claimed—demanded—he was hungry, so Fukuzawa had left the room to track down something simple for Ranpo to eat. He’d come back with a few tubs of pudding, and Ranpo had already eaten three of them while Fukuzawa watched in mild disgust. But considering all of Ranpo’s nutrients had had to be delivered via the IV in his hand, he kept his mouth shut and let the kid enjoy his pudding.

Ranpo was awake and talking, and that was more than Fukuzawa could ask for.

“Yeah well, I know that. But it’s you. You don’t cry.” Ranpo argued, pointing the spoon in his direction. “And I don’t remember what happened after I was shot, so tell me. Did you cry?”

Fukuzawa sighed. “Yes, Ranpo, I did cry. But only once I was alone in the waiting room wondering whether or not you were going to live or die.”

Ranpo nodded, satisfied, and then promptly changed the subject. “So, what happened to them?”

“To who?”

“To the murderers. You know, the ones that shot and stabbed me? I know shock makes you forget things, but surely you didn’t forget that much.” Ranpo said, and then proceeded to shove the rest of the pudding into his mouth, passing the empty cup back to Fukuzawa before taking the last cup and opening it.

“They were arrested of course. They have been charged for their crimes. After nearly killing you, they confessed pretty quick to everything.” Fukuzawa paused, debating on whether or not he should continue when Ranpo threw him an impatient look. “Their target was you all along.”

“Well, duh, I knew that.”

“Of course you did. But do enlighten me.”

“Well.” Ranpo paused to eat some more pudding. “Most of the killers and criminals we go after don’t tend to target me because I’m me, so when I saw the kind of people those two were killing, it didn’t take long for me to realize that they were targeting me. The old woman apparently had a son that killed himself when I revealed his crimes and she wasn’t very happy about that.”

“She can stay unhappy in jail.” Fukuzawa huffed, getting off the bed to throw away the empty cup in the bin before returning to Ranpo’s bedside.

“She won’t make it to jail.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

“She’s sick. Something incurable. I’d say she only had a few weeks left to live when she started killing. I dunno about the daughter though.” Ranpo finished explaining, tilting his head to the side. “I’m not quite sure what possessed her to help her mother kill people.”

“Sometimes, love for family can make people do stupid things.” Fukuzawa said, not all to certain himself what reasoning the daughter could’ve had. He was sure the police would figure it out though, so if he wanted to find out, he could just ask them at a later date.

“Ugh, sounds terrible. Why would you kill a bunch of people just because your parents asked you to? If you told me to kill someone, I’d just call the cops.” Ranpo scrunched up his nose at the idea.

Fukuzawa rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t plan on asking you to kill someone then. But I will ask you to behave nicely when the nurses come to give you a shower today, though. We don’t need a repeat of last night’s incident.”

Ranpo’s face flushed a brilliant scarlet at Fukuzawa’s words and he turned away from his guardian to stare at the wall. “It’s embarrassing. I don’t like it. And I don’t need their help in taking a shower.”

“You can’t even lift your arms above your chest.” Fukuzawa argued. He’d stepped out of the room while the nurses came to change Ranpo’s dressings the previous night, only to return to a commotion from the bathroom. A cry of pain from Ranpo had sent Fukuzawa running into the room, only to see exasperated nurses trying to pick Ranpo off the floor and put him back in the chair. Apparently, Ranpo hadn’t taken too kindly to their attempts to help him get clean, so he’d fought them, only to fall and nearly reopen his wounds. Once Fukuzawa’s heart had stopped trying to escape his chest, he’d told Ranpo to behave before leaving.

Ranpo had sulked the rest of the night, but at least he wasn’t a biohazard anymore.

“This is stupid.” Ranpo whined, leaning back against his mountain of pillows. “When can I go home?”

“When the doctor says you can.” Fukuzawa explained patiently, for what felt like the hundredth time. “This isn’t like that time you were sick, or when you broke your arm. You nearly died, so the doctors need to make sure everything’s fine before they send you home.”

“Ugh, but I’ve already been here, stuck in this bed for two—”

“Three. You were unconscious for a week.”

“—three weeks. I’m tired of being stuck in this room with nothing to do.”

“I’m sure it won’t be much longer. Just be patient.” Fukuzawa soothed.

“I have been.” Ranpo huffed, a sullen expression on his face. “I just want to go home.”

Fukuzawa reached over and ruffled Ranpo’s hair gently. “I know you do. How about I see if the nurses will let me take you outside for an hour or so today?”

And just like that, the sullen look was gone, replaced with a beaming smile that Fukuzawa was not immune to, as a smile grew on his own face. For the past two weeks, Ranpo had either been in pain, or too tired to engage with him, so to see an actual, genuine smile on his face was a relief to him; a sign that he was recovering from the injuries that had nearly claimed his life. It had been scary, watching Ranpo fight to live. The first week had been spent in a whirlwind of misery and ‘what ifs’ and the second and third weeks had been just as stressful, with Fukuzawa worrying about whether Ranpo was going to recover from his injuries or not.

But as the days passed, Ranpo grew stronger, and would continue to get stronger, until he regained the independence he’d lost upon being admitted into the hospital. It would take time, but no matter how long it took, he’d be there right by Ranpo’s side, supporting him in every way just as he had been since he’d adopted the boy.

Fukuzawa didn’t know what he’d have done if he’d had to bury Ranpo that day.

He hoped that such a day would never come.

No parent should have to bury their child after all.

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