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guess-my-next-obsession · 2 years

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Peña’s Anatomy — Chapter Ten

pairing: doctor au!javier peña x resident!reader

chapter rating: E (tension w/ parents, mentions of grief, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, oral sex fem receiving, cum eating, another creampie LMAO)

word count: 5.2k

authors note: well! we’ve arrived at our first pit stop for Peña’s Anatomy! this first season was meant to establish their relationship and dynamic, but season two (coming September 24th) will focus more on their work life/social dynamic. we’ll dive into readers family/hometown/ex-boyfriend a bit more, as well as Javier’s past and life in Laredo. expect a bit less angst, a lot more humor, and a bunch of FILTH in the coming season :)

series masterlist

“Well, it’s, uh…it’s nice to meet our little girl’s friends.” You sat at lunch with both of your parents, Mickey, and Javier.

Your birth-givers refused to leave town like they’d agreed to, having found a way to stay an entire week after their first appearance knowing that eventually you’d break down and agree to a sit down with them. To their dismay, you’d brought along two of your favorite humans, surprising them with your choice in company—a pregnant woman with the mouth of a sailor and a man ten years your senior who doted on you far too much to be just a friend.

You forced the pair into coming along to this lunch by guilting them with your injured state and recent grief—not exactly proud of your manipulation but aware that their presence was necessary if you were going to get through this lunch without a mental breakdown.

“J-Javier? Right?” You cringed at your mother’s judgmental tone as she turned to the man on your left, your hand coming to rest on his knee under the table to offer a bit of reassurance. “Are you two…seeing each other?”

“Oh, no.” He lied skillfully, giving her that charming smile of his. “Lucky’s just a good friend.”

“Oh, that makes me feel a little better.” Your mother held her hand over her heart and sighed in relief, your father chuckling along with her while the three of you gave each other knowing looks. “Not sure I’d approve of such an age gap.”

“Not sure it matters if you did or didn’t.” Mickey chimed in, making you smirk at your mother’s appalled expression. “Sorry, that was the hormones talking.”

“Yes, congratulations. I’m sure your husband must be elated.” You turned to eye your friend with raised eyebrows and an amused smile, eagerly awaiting her explanation.

“Oh, I’m not married. The father doesn’t even know. Could you pass the breadsticks?” Mickey paid no mind to your parents conservative nature, both you and Javier chuckling to yourselves.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been meaning to ask how you broke your leg in the first place.” Your father spoke up as he handed Mickey the basket of breadsticks. You turned to Javier for a second, his warm eyes meeting yours as though to tell you he was just as clueless for an explanation.

“I was…running.” You attempted a lie, watching as both of your parents furrowed their brows.

“Running? Since when do you run?”

“Since when do you care?” You snapped, Javier clearing his throat and reaching for his water.

“You’ve, uh, really changed since you moved. Perhaps you should think about coming back. We all miss you. Brandon—“

“Mom.” You spat, cheeks burning at the mention of your ex-boyfriend.

“You broke up with him like he meant nothing to you, and you were together for nearly a decade! I think it’s normal for me to grieve the life you could’ve had with him, you know? It’s only been three months.” You caught Javier’s stare from your peripheral and sighed, scooting your chair back.

“Well, it’s been fun, but I’d rather not sit here and listen to you talk about all the ways I’ve let you down.” You grabbed your crutches and hobbled away, Javier and Mickey following shortly behind.

“Do you wanna—“

You cut Mickey off before she could finish her sentence. “No.”

“Bebita, I think—“

“No.” You snapped again as Javier tried to chime in. He sighed and nodded, knowing you well enough to know that once you were set on something there was no changing your mind.

You hugged Mickey goodbye as you reached Javier’s Audi in the parking lot, insisting that you were fine even with the break up, broken leg, dead friend, and judgmental parents coming into town all in one week. You were well aware she didn’t believe you, but felt grateful that she gave you your space regardless.

Javier helped you into the small luxury car, grabbing your crutches and sticking them in the backseat before walking around to the drivers side. You teased him earlier about his car choice, amused that he was trying to impress your parents with it but he insisted it was only because it would be easier to get you in and out of with your injury. You weren’t sure you completely bought that excuse.

“Thank you for lying about us.” You turned to him as he sat down and turned the car on, a chuckle leaving his lips.

“It was easy to lie because I don’t know the real answer.” He replied honestly, shrugging at you. You gave him a sympathetic look, heart aching a bit as you took in his slight frown. “Anyways…”

“Yeah.” You faced forward and fell silent as the two of you pulled out of the parking lot.

The ride to your apartment was silent, both of you very aware of the impending emotions that would come with opening up Rose’s place to clear out her things.

Much to your surprise she’d left everything to you in her will, the touching act not making her death any more bearable. Objects could never replace her presence and impact on your life, and so you made the decision to donate and sell the majority of it—only keeping a few pieces of jewelry that felt too sentimental to part with.

“You sure you’re ready?” Javier asked as he parked outside your building, a sigh leaving your lips as you shrugged.

“We have to clear it out before the month’s over anyways. Gotta man up and get it done.” He shook his head and leaned over, holding your chin and turning your face to his. He pressed his lips to yours and let them linger there until you kissed him back, your fingers lacing in his hair as you held him close.

There it was—that balm to soothe all your aches. A new medicine only meant for you called Javier Peña.

“Okay,” you pulled away and looked him in the eyes. “I’m ready.”

“Okay.” He pinched your chin lovingly before stepping out of the car and walking around to your side, grabbing your crutches out of the back before helping you onto your feet.

Javier walked behind you at your slow, carefully planned pace, eyes watching you closely in case you stumbled and he needed to catch you. Though this injury had drained you physically, mentally, and emotionally, Javier’s unrelenting company was one perk that came with it. He was always by your side, offering a helping hand on your better days and a bit of reassurance on your bad ones.

You hadn’t slept with him yet since he went and got tested six days prior, but you weren’t entirely sure why.

Of course there were obvious clues as to why you’d chosen celibacy—the lingering anger over his lapse in good decision making with Jessica, the grief running through each and every one of your veins from the loss of your beloved friend, and the more shallow reason being this unattractive boot on your left leg. Though you knew all of these reasons probably had a role to play in your holding back from him, there was a certain itching in your heart that told you perhaps it was for a more romantic reason than you’d ever admit.

You wanted it to be special—the first time the two of you joined your bodies again after so much heartbreak. To have a quick and hasty fuck would almost feel like spitting on the love you shared, especially when the two of you weren’t even together.

You wanted him to be yours again when you made love, wanted to show him that—all sarcasm and passive aggression aside—it was water under the bridge.

He’d more than proven himself to you by devoting his entire existence to taking care of you, even when he wasn’t benefiting from it in the slightest. The most he was getting from you was conversation and a few kisses, surely less than any other man you knew would’ve demanded in return for their services.

When you took him to bed again, you planned on telling him that you were madly in love with him. That you wanted to be his girlfriend. That you wanted him to be your boyfriend. And until you felt prepared and ready to do that, you’d continue holding back from him. He deserved to have you completely, not this fantasy you’d created out of anger where you and him would be just friends.

“Alright, you ready?” Javier lifted up the mat in front Rose’s door and pulled out the spare key, looking at you in confirmation before unlocking the apartment. You took a much needed breath and nodded, your lips pursing together as he opened the door. He stepped in first, your crutches sounding from behind him as you slowly made your way into the living room. “Take a seat, bebita. I’ll do the packing, you just…take a seat.”

You nodded and walked over to the couch, her favorite recliner too hard to look at so you turned away from it. Javier rubbed his palms together as he took a breath and started with the living room. He felt like he was stabbing you in the stomach with a dagger when he began taking the framed pictures off the walls, setting them in a neat pile on the floor. You batted your eyelashes to try and ward off tears, Javier’s eyes finding yours at the sound of your sniffles. He gave you a sympathetic frown before returning to his work.

You felt useless just sitting there and grieving, so you carefully moved yourself over to her large bookshelves, situating yourself down onto the ground in front of them. You made two piles: one for donations and one for books you’d keep as momentos.

“What do you want to do with these?” Javier asked as he set the final picture frame down, your eyes following your fingertips as you ran them over the paperback copy of Charles Bukowski’s Love Is A Dog From Hell. “Bebita?”

“Huh?” You lifted your eyes at the sound of Javier calling you, having not heard him the first time. He frowned a bit before sitting down in front of you on the floor.

“You read that before?” He asked, changing the subject to an easier one. You shrugged, half nodding.

“Read some of his stuff, but not this one.” You sighed and placed the book down onto the keep pile, turning to grab another but Javier stopped you by reading through one of the poems.

“All I’ve ever known are whores, ex-prostitutes, madwomen. I see men with quiet, gentle women—I see them in the supermarkets, I see them walking down the streets together, I see them in their apartments: people at peace, living together. I know that their peace is only partial, but there is peace, often hours and days of peace.” He began reading a poem, your eyes glued to him as he looked down at the book.

Your attention was completely his—the way his lips moved with every softly spoken word, the furrow in his brow as he concentrated on reading aloud, the rasp in his voice from keeping it hushed as to not ruin the delicacy of the moment.

“I need a good woman. I need a good woman more than I need this typewriter, more than I need my automobile, more than I need Mozart; I need a good woman so badly that I can taste her in the air, I can feel her at my fingertips, I can see sidewalks built for her feet to walk upon, I can see pillows for her head, I can feel my waiting laughter, I can see her petting a cat, I can see her sleeping, I can see her slippers on the floor. I know that she exists, but where is she upon this earth as the whores keep finding me?” Javier let a chuckle slip from his lips as he finished reading the poem, closing the book and letting it sit where you’d placed it. “Fitting.”

“Very.” You chuckled too, humor creeping into the moment and alleviating some of the aching your grief brought on. “Javi?”

“Yes, my love?” You smiled and let out a huff of amusement at the term of endearment, your eyes dropping to watch as you picked at your cuticles.

“Does it get easier?” You finally managed a question, its vague nature causing Javier to tilt his head at you when you lifted your eyes back to his. “Grief?”

Javier sighed and let his head hang, no doubt thinking of his own grief from his mother’s passing.

“It dulls. So much that I go weeks at a time without thinking about her. And then I start to feel guilty for not thinking about her, as though it makes my love for her any smaller or less real.” He took a breath, eyes lifting to yours and hand reaching over to rest on your knee. “But we aren’t built to be able to sit in our grief like that forever. It would kill us.”

“It feels silly, you know? She was just my neighbor, just an old woman…” You shook your head as though to order the tears in your eyes not to fall. They didn’t listen.

Javier reached up and stroked them away as they rolled over the apples of your cheeks, his palm lingering and warming you up.

“It’s not silly. These tears and the way your heart feels like it’s fighting you inside of your chest is proof that it’s not.” He whispered, his words causing the dam to finally break, your sobs filling the room as you covered your hands with your face. He scooted closer to hold you as you finally allowed yourself to cry for the first time since hearing that she passed. “It’s okay, baby. Let it out. It’s good. This is good.”

“I—I think we should hire someone.” You managed to speak a full sentence through the suffocating lump in your throat, your hands lowering after wiping away the remaining traces of your momentary lapse in strength. “To do this.”

“Okay,” he nodded and placed a kiss to your temple. “We can do that.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, confirming that this was too much. You’d take a few things now and hide them away in your closet but everything else…you needed someone else to deal with it. You had enough going on.

“You wanna go to yours? Get some water, maybe something to eat?” He asked, helping you up after you nodded. Standing on one foot, you waited until he gave you your crutches before hurrying out of the apartment and into yours next door.

You hadn’t been back here since everything happened. It seemed cold, unfamiliar, small. The good memories were tainted by the bad, and although all of your belongings reminded you that you did once dwell here, it didn’t feel like home. Home could only be found one place these days, and it was walking right behind you into the kitchen.

“Sit down, Crutches. Pick out a movie, I’ll get some popcorn going.” He ordered and you obeyed, hobbling over to the couch you bought secondhand and reupholstered yourself while Rose watched. Everything was tainted.

“What, uh, what sounds good?” You asked as he brought over a cup of water and found the binder full of DVD’s, handing it to you before returning back to the kitchen.

“Your pick.”

Your mouth twisted as you perused the selection. You knew any sort of comedy was off the table—you didn’t want to force yourself into laughter and ruin a good movie. Romance was also a bit sketchy considering the ever-complicated nature of your friendship with the man in the next room. Perhaps a drama would be best suited for the current mood, though you weren’t quite sure Javier would enjoy it very much—he was getting his fill just through knowing you.

“How about a horror movie?” You asked as the microwave peeped, Javier chuckling at the suggestion.

“I might be hiding the whole time, but sure.” He walked over to you with the popcorn, your mouth humming as you popped a piece into it. Perfectly salted.

“Not a fan of scary movies?” You asked as you selected The Shining—a rather tame one, you thought. Javier took the disk from you and popped it into the DVD player before going into your bedroom. You were expecting him to just bring out a few blankets, but when you heard a thud, your brows laced together in concern. “Jav?”

A moment later you chuckled as you watched him haul out your queen-sized mattress, shoving the coffee table out of the way so that he could lay it down in front of the TV. He walked back into the bedroom to grab some blankets and a few pillows, tossing one at you playfully before he made the bed.

“Alright, now we can start the movie.” He grunted as he plopped down onto the mattress, kicking his shoes off and undoing his jeans. You smirked as you crawled down onto the bed and cozied up to him, careful not to scratch his now bare legs with your chunky boot.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the scary man with the axe.” You teased as the film began to play, Javier rolling his eyes before chuckling at your joke.

“Here’s Lucky!” He gave his best impression of the famous line, making you rumble with laughter as your head rested on his chest, his fingertips drawing lazy circles on the mostly bare skin of your shoulder.

At some point in the middle of the movie, you’d fallen asleep, leaving Javier to lay beside you and study your sleeping face. He fought the urge to trace your features, knowing just how little rest you’d gotten this last week between your grieving heart and injury. You deserved this bit of peace, even if it was only for a little while.

•••

As though you had a sixth sense dedicated to him, your eyes slowly fluttered open, a sharp inhale of breath through your nostrils as you woke yourself up. You glanced at the window, surprised to see it was still light outside, before turning your eyes to the man beside you. You gave him a sleepy smile, your head relaxing against the pillow again.

“Sorry,” you apologized but he shook his head to reject it.

“Don’t be, I was having plenty of fun just watching you.” You blushed at his flirting and closed your eyes again, your smile widening. Javier finally allowed his fingers to trace over your features, the softness of your skin stirring him more than he thought possible. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did…” your mind flipped back to the dream you were just woken up from—a dream you desperately craved to become reality. “I dreamed about you…and me.”

“Oh yeah?” He chuckled and lowered his fingertips to your jaw, continuing down the side of your neck and shoulder until he reached the strap of your top. “What were we doing?”

Your breath hitched as he slid the strap down, his fingers continuing their trip across the plains of your warm skin. Though you wanted to do this properly—romantically—you couldn’t help but feel a pool of desire form between your thighs. It had been so long since you’d had him. So long since you were connected to him.

“We were…kissing,” you began your eyes following his fingertips as they traced back up your arm and across your collarbone to the other shoulder, giving your arm closest to him the same treatment. “You were on top of me…and I could feel you. It felt real…I wanted it to be real.”

“Where could you feel me, bebita? Show me,” your chest was lifting and falling dramatically as he guided your hand to rest on top of his, demanding you move him where you’d like. You swallowed thickly and lifted his hand off your arm, placing it on your stomach before sliding it down your body and beneath the blanket.

Lifting the hem of your dress up, you watched as his jaw went slack at the feeling of your cotton-covered heat underneath his fingertips. His eyes never left yours as you used your fingers to guide his in circles over your clit, your brows furrowing at the pleasure of being touched after so long. This was intimate. This was romantic.

“I’ve missed you so much, Javier.” You whispered to him as he laid on his side, propped up on one elbow while his fingers took control. He lowered his lips to yours, pressing softly and giving you the space to reject him, but you tugged him closer, pressing your lips against his in slow, sensual motions.

“Baby,” Javier moaned into your mouth. “I’ve missed you.”

Taken over by some animalistic need, you pulled him down by his collar, one of his thighs resting between yours, his hand moving to grope your breast. You moaned against his lips as he pressed his thigh against your throbbing clit, your hips rocking against him but it wasn’t enough. You needed him inside you. Needed to feel that you were his and he was yours and everything was as it was supposed to be once more.

“Need you…need you so bad, Javi.” He nodded against you and shimmied his jeans off just enough to let his cock out, it slapping against your clothed stomach. He whimpered when you wrapped your fist around it, pumping him until he was so hard you thought it must’ve hurt.

His fingers moved your panties to the side as he became situated between your thighs, his eyes on you as he pressed his cock into your wet heat in one achingly slow thrust. Your eyes screwed shut at the indescribable feeling of having him inside you after so long. This is what you imagined it felt like to die—no pain, no anguish, just a peaceful sort of euphoria that felt too good to be true. So good that it was almost scary.

“G-god, baby.” Javier moaned into your ear as he held your face in his palm, his hips snapping into yours at the perfect pace. “Look at me. Show me those pretty eyes.”

You did as he commanded, locking your eyes with his as he unraveled you in the way only he knew how to. You mewled beneath him and he nodded in understanding, his head shaking a bit.

“You have no idea how good you feel…I wish you could see yourself like I do.” He whispered as he hovered over you, his cock sliding beautifully against every good nerve inside of you. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”

“I love you,” you whimpered as you began to cry from the euphoria of it all. Javier cooed and wiped your tears away, his hand then lowering in between your bodies to stroke over your swollen clit. You writhed beneath him and closed your eyes, hearing a tutting noise come from your lover in response.

“Mm-mm, come back to me. Look at me. Wanna see you when you cum.” Did he know how good this felt? Surely he couldn’t have any idea. This was beyond sex. This was…revival. A cleansing. A claiming of your soul.

“I love you,” you repeated, those three words the only ones that you knew in this state. Javier’s brows furrowed as he stared deeply into your eyes, his hips stuttering a bit.

“I love you.” He confirmed what you so desperately longed to hear, that coil that had been built up over the course of this week now snapping and stealing all of your breath.

You wondered for a moment if you’d actually died. It felt like it. Your body was suspended in a blinding void of bliss and if it hadn’t felt so damn good, you might’ve started to panic.

“Jesus, I-I’m gonna cum.” He warned, bringing you back to him. You nodded and held his face, stroking over his stubbly cheeks and whispering praises to him, the corners of your eyes shedding tears of bliss. Javier looked absolutely anguished by the pleasure, his cock pounding into you, your breath being stolen with each deep thrust until he stilled. With a drawn out moan, he spilled inside of you, claiming you as his own once again.

“Thank you,” you breathed out as you watched his face remain scrunched with the aftershocks of his climax, his breathing ragged and heart pounding. He opened his eyes and took you in, a smile growing on your face as you continued to swipe your thumb over his cheeks. “I’m yours, Javi. Can I be yours?”

“Don’t play with me,” he warned, half-scared to believe you meant what you were asking for.

“I’m not. I…need to be yours. Please…let me be yours.” He nodded and interrupted your begging by crashing his lips against yours. You hugged him tight and wrapped your legs around his waist to keep him there.

“You’ve always been mine, and I’ve always been yours.” He whispered as he continued to lazily move his lips against yours. “You don’t ever have to ask for that. My heart is yours.”

“Thank you…for being here for me through all this. You didn’t have to do any of this but you did because you’re a good man. I know that you love me, and whatever happened in the past…it’s the fucking past. All I care about is our here and now.” You pinched his chin as he propped himself up on both hands to hover above you. “And here and now, I’ve never felt more loved by anybody. Thank you, Javier.”

“Sweet thing,” he shook his head as smiled at you, a teardrop falling from his eye onto your cheek. You went wide eyed at the sight of him openly crying with you, your mind left clueless as to how to display the heaping amounts of love you had for him. “You are…the love of my life, Lucky. Crutches. Bebita. Baby.”

He finished off his string of endearments by using your full name, the dam inside you breaking again. You pulled him down to your chest, not caring about his weight against you as you cried into his neck, Javier kissing the side of your head and squeezing you close as you let it all out.

“I’m so sorry for what I’ve done to hurt you,” he mumbled against your ear before kissing it. “But I will never do that again. Never.”

“I believe you. And I forgive you.” You pressed a kiss to the curve where his neck met his shoulder, your tears stopping as you lifted your head to meet his eyes. He stroked his thumb over your cheek and found his hips thrusting into yours languidly, his cock swelling again with desire to cement your love. You nodded at him and whimpered, Javier sitting up on his knees and watching as his cock slid in and out of your dripping cunt.

“So beautiful. So fucking beautiful.” You nodded at his praise, bending your neck to be able to watch it as well. Javier cradled your neck and jaw with one hand while he brought the other up to his tongue, licking the pad of his thumb before lowering it to your clit hoping that it would satiate his desire to taste you.

Abruptly, he pulled out of you and shuffled down until his mouth was hovering over your wetness, his eyes locking with yours as he licked a broad stripe through your folds, swallowing the combination of your climaxes before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. Your head fell back against the pillow as he continued alternating between flicking licks and wet sucks to your swollen heat, your fingers threading through his dark waves.

“God, we taste so good together.” He sat back up and wiped his mouth before pressing back into you in one deep stroke, a strangled cry falling from your lips as your second orgasm took you by surprise. Javier stared at you in awe as he continued stroking slow and deep, your walls spasming around him and sucking him in deeper. “Jesus, do you know how good this fucking feels, baby? Feel like…like…I’m floating. Can’t…describe it. Feels so good.”

“I know,” you nodded and reached for his face, pulling him down so that you could kiss him. He growled into your mouth as he continued snapping his hips into yours, both of you no longer conscious human beings and instead becoming two souls wrapped in a blanket of bliss.

“That’s…fuck…I’m gonna cum again, baby.” He pressed grateful kisses all over the side of your face as he wrapped his arms underneath the arch in your back and pulled you to sit in his lap. His hands held both sides of your face as you bounced on him, your foreheads pressed together. “Yes, fuck. Keep going baby. Just like that.”

“God, I’m going to fucking squirt, Javier!” You warned as you felt a different sort of orgasm building, one you weren’t completely accustomed to but welcomed eagerly. You cried out and Javier lowered his eyes to watch as you drenched his lap with your climax, a deep growl coming from his throat as he came deep inside you. His orgasm seemed to go on for minutes, his hands roaming every inch of your flesh that he could find to thank you for this pleasure that only you were able to bestow upon him.

“I love you so much.” He whispered against the valley of your breasts as his forehead pressed to your chest, pecking your heated skin.

“You’re mine.” You proclaimed, unashamed of your possessive tone. Javier chuckled and lifted his head, nodding eagerly.

“I am yours. Until my dying day.”

•••

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alainas-sims · 1 year

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Alexandrea's Diary

We held Héctor's funeral today as his body was finally sent back home. It took over a month but it was worth it for that closure so that we could properly grieve. We are fortunate enough that his body was recovered— many soldiers' families are not so fortunate as their loved ones are buried where they fell. I adorned his grave with a bouquet of sunflowers, which I felt fit my darling Héc's sunny personality.

Everyone who had known Héctor attested to his courage, his positivity, and his strength. Hardest of all was to see his parents, Consuelo and Andrés. Consuelo said that she could not help but be reminded of her sister, Héctor's mother, who had died shortly after giving birth to him, and how his short life mirrored hers. "Luisa named him Héctor— steadfast, the tragic Trojan king of the Greek legend. I could see my hermana's smile on his bright face."

It was so hard to try to explain the permanence of death to Gloria, who is but a mere three years old. Poor darling barely had the chance to get to know her father. After the ceremony, I was greeted by Dirk, who had been sent home on account of losing a leg, and learning to walk with a prosthesis and crutches. He told me that he had something he would give to me at a later time.

"Héctor wanted me to give you his journal," he said. "That day my leg had to be amputated... he saved my life. We were in Normandy and there were many casualties that day, not just Héc. My leg had been pierced by a shell. I could not walk, it hurt so much, and he carried me to safety until a medic could arrive. I never got to thank him. I would be dead if it weren't for Héctor."

"He really did love you, Alex. You were his world, the reason he fought so hard. You must know that." And I did.

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rolanslide · 2 years

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Hunter's childhood as a disabled child orphaned by wild magic and ostracized by a society of magic users, was all fake. Belos made it all up, either just telling Hunter that's what happened or somehow implanting false memories into his mind.

Belos literally engineered the perfect person to fall victim to a cult.

Cults target desperate people, offering them sanctuary. They find people who need outward help and assistance to survive and thrive, physically and/or psychologically. It's how he got to Lilith, offering her penance for what she did to her sister and telling her he can help. Obviously, he's lying, but she doesn't have to know that until she's no longer useful to him.

If Hunter, a child, a Grimwalker, a blank slate, believed he was grieving the loss of his family who died from wild magic, and that his disability has prevented him from having a future, he'd be much easier to manipulate. Hunter can't use magic naturally, so he could never use wild magic against Belos. Hunter can use magic at all because Belos allows him to, giving Hunter a crutch that Belos could and would take away at a moments notice, so Hunter would never run away. He would never be seduced by wild magic because wild magic took everything from him, and how could he use and enjoy the thing that killed his family?

When Belos says he thought Hunter would last longer than the other ones, he means that he did everything he could to make someone as vulnerable to his manipulation as possible. It's why Hunter is the youngest Golden Guard. Hunter is just a child, and Belos is not only a monarch, but Hunter's only parental figure. There's running from and rebelling against an evil dictator who you work for, and then there's running from and rebelling against the man who raised you. One is significantly harder than the other.

And yet, despite all of this, despite all of Belos' efforts to mould the perfect soldier, he still failed.

Belos leading Hunter through some of Belos' most evil acts in Hollow Mind was, in fact, a test of sorts. Belos honestly believed that Hunter would be okay with all of the genocide and other atrocities he committed. He wanted, expected even, Hunter to find Belos' actions honorable, just as he does. Hunter's disgust and horror at this is what causes his smile to fade and make him realize that Hunter is another failure.

Hunter is still interested in wild magic, Hunter still ends up with his own palisman, and Hunter is still a child that doesn't want to hurt people.

What Belos doesn't understand is that, even with all the manipulation, fear, and power in the world, you can't change a person, not in that way. But he'll keep trying anyway. Surely, eventually, things will turn out the way they're supposed to. Him and Caleb, together again, no betrayal or disagreement.

#its 1am and im psychoanalyzing fictionsl men lord help me #toh #ask to tag #toh spoilers #philip wittebane #hunter wittebane #caleb wittebane #hunter toh

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pain-is-too-tired · 1 year

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One thing I noticed with the Starless Clan protagonists is that all look more like their fathers and have mommy issues.

Nightheart looks nearly identical to his father, I'm know people like to add orange to him but I see him as completely night-black. The only difference maybe their eyes? But they could still be up in the air. And of course because of Sparkpelt's depression and struggle to even mention a thing about Larksong,instead using Firestar's legacy to project her grief which makes it where Nightheart feels completely detached from his mother's family why learning about his father only from his grandmother/mentor. So big mommy issues.

Frostpaw is a lighter gray then her father, but is still more his color then Curlfeather's. Her mother goes the opposite route Sparkpelt look in her grief by smothering her kits. Instead of using a distant cat to give her purpose after loss, she looks to get daughter putting a simular pressure onto her. She doesn't hide the topic of their father as much, practically bringing up how his death was predicted enough. Frost is close to her mother, but she also feels smothered leaving her lost when she dies.

Sunbeam is a bit different then the others, her father who she shares her colors with more is still alive but she doesn't seem to have too much of a relationship compared to her mother and her. When her brother chooses a mate in Fringewhisker Sparrowtail why disappointed trusts his son's choice. Berryheart however, effected by her losing Needletail, had no trust for another clan cat in shadowclan. This causes the riff in her and Sunbeam's relationship.

Overall think these stories are good representation of how Grieve comes in many forms and how it can effect those you love.

Sparkpelt struggled to raise her remaining kits and uses Firestar's legacy as a crutch to reach for instead of falling to her grief. However, this effects her son who never gets a chance to actually know her nor what her and his father's relationship was like from her view. She's not clear on what she truly sees when she looks at him, never mentioning his name being last bit of his father or how much he looks like him. Leaving him with two voids that only one is filled by Sorrelstripe and his foster siblings.

Curlfeather smothering her kits in fear of losing them but also putting a lot expections onto Frostpaw to mark her own legacy. This effects Frostpaw making her feel least when her most is not there to guide her and feeling a lot to live up to.

Berryheart lashes out into the world, judging her kits choices when they don't fit her own. Why she thinks it's too protect them it only drives them away.

This is definitely my favorite arc so far and how they keep working on these relationships

#larksong #warriorcats #nightheart #flamepaw #sunbeam #frostpaw #sparrowtail #jayclaw #sky #river #berryheart #sparkpelt #curlfeather

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nxmeolvides · 1 month

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Bullshitting my way through cheerleading Ana take one ft: picture to burn era taylor swift music

Dad died about three-four years ago, and Abuela not too soon after. Placing Ana at 13-14 years old when he’s gone. This contributes to her, in a way, trying to “reinvent” herself by joining cheerleading. Her old world just crumbled around her: she needs something new to rely on. Her faith becomes stronger around here, too: another crutch for her to use/

Her relationship with the football guy is, in a way, a distraction. She does love him, potentially becoming sweethearts in her first year of highschool. But, he absolutely is also a way for her to try and be “normal.” She turns to him as somewhere to hide from the rest of the world, and the rest of her life.

She also values their relationship so much because with Maria gone to university, Ana is lonely. She surrounds herself with that life of cheerleading and boys, because again, it helps her feel sane. Accepted somewhere else, instead of at home where her mother is still grieving and facing the same loneliness Ana feels. There’s a hole in the home, and shoes she feels she has to step into, but she can’t fit into either. She just doesn’t feel enough.

The boyfriend still blindsides her with college, because she previously confided in him how she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to go. He has his sights on it anyway, and even, naively, suggests Ana could just go there with him - could even get married young. Ana has a bad reaction to this.

Even though she isn’t sure what she wants in life, it isn’t that. No matter how much she’s been spacing herself away from her family, she could never up and leave in that way.

Additionally, this reveal that her boyfriend wants to leave for college happens close to when Maria goes on her photography trip. Ana pulls back from her around this time. She’s struggling. Even if it’s unfair, it feels like everyone is abandoning her to go somewhere she doesn’t think she can ever reach. And, still trying to hold the household together with their mother, Ana is understandably all too aware of their monetary troubles, and extremely doubtful she could score a scholarship anywhere.

Ultimately, when Maria goes missing, she’s blindsided. Her sister had been sending her these letters, reaching out for Ana even when she’d been unfairly not reaching back, and then she’s just gone.

A week passes, Ana gets suspicious. And then frustrated, when the sheriff’s department turns out useless, and then terrified that something has gone wrong.

There’s an additional level of guilt to everything that comes after this point with this version of her, because whether Maria is alive or dead, Ana had been pulling away. She’ll always go on feeling she has something to prove, to make up for.

Additional:

Most days, she wears her hair pulled back into a ponytail.

Likely used to wear her hair down, before their dad died.

She tapes over her earrings during cheerleading practice.

Finding out Danny went looking for Maria first is absolutely a wake-up call for her that contributes to her drive, guilt, and determination to find her sister. Because like. Yeah. C’mon.

#listened to the lore summary again while typing this up and my brain bled out my ears. hate you ronnie #[ 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 . ]#“her whole life is cheerleading” i can turn you into a coping mechanism sooo hard

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practically-an-x-man · 2 months

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2, 4, 9, 11, 17 for the character building questions

Thank you! Since you didn't specify, I think I'll answer for Ophelia, Quinn, and Eris since they're pretty fun

Weird but Specific Character Asks

2. How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’?

Ophelia: Pretty loosely, actually. She struggles with retaining romantic relationships a lot of the time, but she's actually good with friendships and can connect with people pretty well.

Quinn: As a word, loosely - she'll call an acquaintance a friend just because it's the simplest word. But by actual meaning, she doesn't trust other people easily since she's worried about being betrayed again, so she doesn't have a lot of people she really considers friends.

Eris: Fairly strictly. Like Quinn, they also tend to avoid connections, and calling someone a friend is like admitting they have fondness for them and will grieve them when they're gone.

4. What’s a hobby they used to have that they miss?

Ophelia: Robotics in the recreational sense - building robots to solve a maze or blow out a candle or other benign challenges. She's still very active in robotics and loves working on new projects, but the pure enjoyment and benign challenge of a robotics club is something she misses and can't really get back.

Quinn: Parkour! She wishes more than anything that she could get back the mobility for it, it was one of the things that made her happiest.

Eris: They do love competition, and I feel like there are some historic games that aren't played much anymore that they miss: khorol or senet or even something like pok-a-tok. They're sure she could find someone out there who still plays it, but it's a lot fewer and farther between than it used to be (I could see him trying to teach Rick someday though)

9. Do they give tough love or gentle love most often? Which do they prefer to receive?

Ophelia: Tries for gentle love, actually. Her romance usually ends in tragedy, but she at least tries to be a caring partner when she's in it. She prefers a mix of both to receive - pure softness makes her uncomfortable and squirmy, but she still wants to see a bit of gentle love when she needs it.

Quinn: Ends up giving tough love, just by her nature. She prefers to receive gentle love, though she doesn't always realize it - really, she's not used to have a lover offer her gentle love, since she's not used to having a lover who sees her completely as a woman (sad reality, as I'm sure my other trans friends will also recognize, but at least she's got Billy now and he loves her dearly)

Eris: Tough love all the way, save for a few sparse moments. What they prefer to receive tends to vary from moment to moment - most of the time they're more comfortable with tough love and banter, but he appreciates having someone to take care of him when she's hurt or exhausted, since they never really had that before.

11. If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference?

Ophelia: Funny that this is a plot point in her fic... but I feel like in general, it's her speech patterns that would give her away. She's got a very particular blend of dry wit and seriousness that's hard to duplicate, even across different multiversal versions of herself

Quinn: They'd notice by the way she moves - obviously her movement is more limited than it used to be, but she still holds herself with the confidence of someone who's spent a lot of their life moving quickly, dramatically, and with a lot of assuredness (both for parkour, and in moving through the street to pickpocket). Even with her crutches, she's got an interesting sort of grace to her, and that would be hard to imitate.

Eris: Hm... they'd try to challenge "Eris" to some sort of benign challenge, or even a sparring match - when it comes to friends and family, the real Eris will accept the challenge and talk trash during it but would be careful not to cause any real damage, while an imposter might reduce Eris to just their usual ruthlessness without realizing they actually do have a softer side (hidden, subtle, but it's there). It might be a dangerous test, since the imposter really wouldn't hold anything back, but it's the fastest way to sort out the differences.

17. What do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?

Ophelia: She notices her nose first - it's been broken a couple times and healed crooked, and she's still not quite used to it. Other people notice her eyes: they're very dark and intense, and usually gleaming with something that looks a little dangerous.

Quinn: She notices her eyebrows and cheeks, since she's prone to growing a bit of stubble and it's one of the main things she gets dysphoric about (particularly first thing in the morning, before they have the chance to shave). Other people notice her sense of fashion (and bright pink Mohawk) first, and that's exactly what she wants them to notice (since if they're focused on her hair or outfit, they're not focused on her face, and wouldn't recognize her in a lineup if she changed up her look)

Eris: They notice their expression first, actually - after so many years alive, they're more than used to their features, but it can be odd to realize they woke up smiling instead of looking like they want to kill someone. Other people notice their features as a whole, since there's a slightly ancient quality to the way they look that tends to make people do a double-take.

#my friends!!!#answered asks #my ocs #ophelia octavius #oc quinn/aces #oc eris #ask game

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xxashtreexx · 10 months

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Scars (3)

In the pursuit of great, we failed to do good.

That was all Viktor could think, dressed in black and watching the grieving family before him. He’d had to say something, after the first day when he was haunted. Rifling through Sky’s old things, to find the letters she’d left for her family, following the communication she’d held so dearly — there had been little drawings of her family, scribbles by a child’s hands, scribbled by her little siblings.

Her blood was on his hands.

They wouldn’t even have her body to bury.

Viktor left before too much longer, feeling too heavy and too numb to properly interact with, let alone comfort, the family of the lab assistant he’d killed.

The sky outside was not overcast, but there was a cool breeze to break up the hotness of the day. Glove still covering his new hand, he gripped his crutch too tightly as he limped through the dirt streets. It hurt, he really should have gotten a ride from the local taxis, but somehow he had to atone.

He’d killed her.

Her blood was on his hands.

Viktor ignored the venders and the restaurants. He hadn’t been able to stomach the idea of going back to one after the one he’d been too with Jayce, comforted and happy, and any small hint of the memory was a mockery, a faded ghost.

He’d liked that ghost, but he’d killed —

Viktor made his way back up to the lab, tapping his crutch impatiently against the floor of the elevator, and then finally he was inside.

He shed the black overcoat and hesitantly made his way into Sky’s office. Jayce would call it self-flagellating, but Jayce wasn’t there. Viktor had no idea where he was, which he supposed was a bonus if only for the way that Viktor had no idea how to tell him what he’d done.

Or if he even would. He still remembered Jayce’s disgust, Singed’s warning. He wasn’t sure if he cared, or if it was something that Jayce needed to know the particulars of.

He looked around Sky’s office, and it was a while before he figured out what he was looking for:

A reason to stop.

He ran his numb hand over his numb leg, and thought for a long while. If she’d already died, if the consequences had already been paid, if he really was about to do good, not just great, then maybe — ?

The actual factor that had decided it was when he broke into coughing, choking on his own blood.

He wouldn’t die here.

Hell, maybe Viktor wouldn’t die at all. Maybe he’d be able to spend the rest of eternity like this, doing good after he’d finished his greatness.

Viktor closed his eyes, breathing deeply, and when he opened them, he had plans to prepare.

#arcane #jayce league of legends #jayvik #viktor league of legends #jayce talis #arcane jayce #arcane viktor #jayce arcane #viktor arcane #arcane sky

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penname-artist · 1 year

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"Blade?" A small voice cracks in the dark. The addressee turned his head, obscured by his shoulder of the shorter male behind him.

"Hm?" He croaked back.

"Do you remember that winter?"

"That's so specific." Blade deadpanned, smiling faintly in the night. Nick didn't seem so amused.

"No, that one winter. Our first. When we went up to see summa your folks..."

The gears in Blade's head grinded together for a bit, achey and in need of oiling. Eventually, however, a small memory flickered to life. His smile faded.

"Oh...yeah, I remember. Well...some, at least. It's...blurry."

The reality wasn't so much blurry, it was just traumatizing. He hated to think about it. Come to think of it, that was what made the memory so blurry in the first place.

The two of them, newly weds, had gone north to visit the only family Blade trusted with the knowledge he was still alive. Sydney met them with open arms, surprised but not appalled by the way her older brother had grown and changed as a person. And by his choice in men.

Despite all odds, though, the two got along great. Nick was closer in age to her, and they'd grown up with a lot of the same interests. For a minute there, Blade was almost getting third-wheeled. Almost.

But then there was their day trip, a Christmas treat for the Arizona desert boy that he'd finally get to experience a good snow. Somehow or another, Syd coaxed both of them into a little bit of hiking that winter day, and as they neared the tops of a snow covered hill, they were feeling it with every aching muscle in their bodies.

They'd stayed up there for a while, relaxing, sweating, freezing. Eventually, they moved to get up and head back down, Nick leading the charge. But he'd slipped on the way back up, something fierce. His leg gave out under him, and he was close enough to the edge under a coat of ice and snow, he slipped off. He must have fallen a good ten feet before tumbling through a pile of twigs the rest of the way. When the others got down there to him, he was a mess, with pulled muscles and bruises, a nasty cut on his cheek, and most distressing a messed up ankle. A visit to the hospital later, turns out he'd fractured the thing, and was on bed rest until further notice.

That felt like a lousy Christmas. Nick came home in a pair of crutches, with Blade swarming around him. But all was well, in the end. Eventually.

"And you remember that night, too?" Nick asked, bringing Blade slightly back to the present.

"Right after you left the hospital, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"I mean..." Blade turned away. It was a...touchy thing, to go back and look at. He was really messed up back then. "I don't know, it was just all so...overwhelming."

Overwhelming may have been an understatement of the past. He'd been in near hysterics. Nick's crash was replaying in his head like a broken record, and he grieved like he'd lost the man. He nearly had, once.

"I'm sorry." He said suddenly. It was only a minor injury, especially by Nick's standards. He'd overreacted to it.

"No, don't be," Nick said. "That's why I wanted to bring it up. I know you've been, m..." He paused, looking for the word, "...it's been hard, lately. You've been really wound up..."

Blade sighed, sinking further into bed. "I know.."

"No, it's okay," Nick continued, "I get it. I'd have lost my shit too, in your position. If I ever...if you ever get hurt I don't know what I'm gonna do."

"Hm.." Blade said, contemplating. He really wasn't sure how much he wanted to believe him.

Nick leaned into him, wrapping his arms around his torso. "My little moon."

"Big moon." He corrected, "I get to wear the pants in this relationship."

"Shut up and let me spoon you, dickwad." Nick said. Blade chuckled, letting himself relax in his partners embrace.

#disney planes #disneyplanes #planes fire and rescue #disney planes 2 #blade ranger #nick lopez #humanized #drabble #pen drabbles #save for later #post for later

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buckybarnesbingo · 2 years

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BBB Week 12 Roundup!

Pretend this isn’t posting 2 days late, mmkay?

Title: The Class Trip Creator(s): scottxlogan Link: ao3 Square: Y4 - AU: Ancient Civilizaton Rating: Mature Ship(s): Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes & Morgan Stark (family bonding) Warnings: swearing, temper tantrums, mention of PTSD Major tags: Adult Content, Swearing, Dimension Travel, Family Bonding, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, stubborn Morgan Stark Summary: Bucky volunteers to chaperone Morgan's class trip in the hopes of finding a way to get them to bond again before his wedding to Tony. When the trip goes anything, but the way that Bucky was hoping for, Bucky realizes that he and Morgan are more at odds with one another than he thought. Before they can talk it through they run into a dangerous situation that takes them on a journey neither one was prepared for. Will Tony be able to find them in time before disaster strikes or will Bucky and Morgan be lost in time forever? Word count/format: 7468 (first chapter)

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Title: hold me close under the covers Creator(s): lavenderbucky Link: ao3 Square: Y3 - Domesticity Rating: Gen Ship(s): Steve/Bucky Warnings: N/A Major tags: Sharing a Bed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Bliss Summary: Steve keeps stealing the blankets. Bucky confronts him about it, and then they cuddle. Word count/format: 343

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Title: stampede Creator(s): circaclementine Link: ao3 Square: C2 - Protectiveness Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky/Steve Warnings: None Major tags: Alternate Universe - Modern, Childhood friends to lovers, Fluff, Hurt Steve, Lost in the Crowd. Summary: When Bucky opens his mouth to speak, Steve is instead met with a squawk. Out of nowhere, a thick mob of students enters the hallway, pushing past those already walking and separating the two of them. Steve barely manages to hobble to the side, getting out of the way as the students pick up speed. There has to be fifty of them in this small hallway, he thinks, though he has to adjust his estimate when the group continues to grow as more students pour out of the room. “Stevie? You alright?” Bucky calls from somewhere Steve can’t see. Concern is clear in his voice, and without needing to see Bucky's face he knows his man's forehead is knitted tight. Putting both crutches under one arm, Steve sinks down onto the half-bench in the hallway, and carefully tucks his hurt ankle away from the mass amount of feed stomping by. Word count/format: 712

Keep going for more!

Title: Heavenly Creature Creator(s): Holylulusworld Link: tumblr Square: B4 - Metal arm Rating: Mature Ship(s): Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader Warnings: angst, kidnapping, threats, plot-twist Major tags: Bucky Barnes, The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: A stranger saves you from an unfriendly encounter. Is he a knight in shiny armor? Word count/format: 1399

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Title: Ch 7, Touch Me (Feel Me Bloom) Creator(s): sassyseme (Ao3), sassysambucky (tumblr) Link: ao3 Square: B1 - getting groceries Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Sam/Bucky Warnings: Grieving, PTSD Major tags: Roommates, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Fluff and angst, Dating Summary: Sam asks Bucky for help. Bucky surprises him during his lunch hour. Word count/format: 4818 in chapter, 35k work

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Title: Ch 8, Touch Me (Feel Me Bloom) Creator(s): sassyseme (Ao3), sassysambucky (tumblr) Link: ao3 Square: U5 - "That wasn't nice." Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Sam/Bucky Warnings: anxiety, grieving, pstd Major tags: Roommates, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Fluff and angst, Dating Summary: Steve and Sam talk about Bucky. Sam needs Bucky to text him back. Word count/format: 3182 words/35k work

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Title: i made this place for you [ a place for you to love me ] Creator(s): circaclementine Link: ao3 Square: Y4 - Marriage Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Bucky/Steve Warnings: Semi-nudity, mentions of masturbation. Major tags: Alternate Universe - Modern, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Brief mentions of masturbation, Surprise Ending, Happily Ever After Summary: Bucky’s just about to wrap a slick hand around himself, fattened up and glistening at the tip, when he spies a blur of white moving fast toward their front door. He groans aloud at the accompanying sound of a key in the lock and lets his head fall back. Sure enough, Steve walks into view half a minute later, looking a little wild behind the eyes but not at all phased by what he’s walked in on. “Hi. Can you put that away and come upstairs with me?” Steve asks, drawing a loose circle in the air pointed at Bucky’s bare groin. Word count/format: 2024

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Title: we’ve read the back of the book [ we know what’s going to happen ] Creator(s): circaclementine Link: ao3 Square: K2 - Dancing Rating: Mature Ship(s): Steve/Bucky Warnings: Emotional Angst, Grieiving a Parent Major tags: Alternate Universe - Modern, Mild Emotional Angst, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Wedding Reception, Happily Ever After Summary: One hour ago, Steve stood below a floral arch — Sam at his side while Natasha waited on the other, as he watched Bucky walk down the tiled aisle towards him. Half an hour ago, Steve promised to love Bucky with all of his being, and Bucky returned the sentiment with tears in his eyes. “Now, allow me to present for the very first time, Mr. and Mr. Barnes-Rogers!” Thor announces, pride radiating off of him as he begins the applause that soon echoes throughout the hall. Word count/format: 11830

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Title: Come Back Home Creator(s): ruckystarnes Link: tumblr Square: Y5 - Homeless Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky Barnes & Kobik Warnings: n/a Major tags: homelessness, running away, fighting Summary: Kobik runs away after a fight with Bucky and its weeks before he can find her Word count/format: 2247

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Title: and the fireworks are mine tonight Creator(s): steviesunrises Link: ao3 Square: K3 - Bucky/Steve Rating: Teen Ship(s): Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Shrunkyclunks, Meet-cute, Mild Hurt/Comfort Summary: In all honesty, Steve has stopped caring about his birthday. So, attending a Fourth of July party full of corporate executives and politicians is just par for the course with being Captain America. The one respite of the night comes in the form of the handsome stranger, a deserted balcony, and the sweetest chocolate cupcakes. Or, how Steve learns to love his birthday again. Word count/format: 2898

#buckybarnesbingo2022 #bbb2022 #bbb weekly roundup #bbb week 12 #bbb round four

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maisiedemars · 1 year

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BIOGRAPHY | MUSINGS

BASICS.

character name: maisie linh demars

age & dob: march 28th, 2000 (23)

gender identity & pronouns: female, she/her/hers

sexual orientation & relationship status: questioning, single

residential area: ocean crest apartments

occupation: social media influencer

length of time in aurora bay: all her life

traits: affable, self-doubting

faceclaim: lana condor

FAMILY.

mother: leyna demars (neé nguyen)

father: rocco demars (deceased)

siblings (wc): kai demars (brother, 33)

TL;DR.

aurora bay native and youngest child to a t, you might recognize maisie demars from a tik tok fyp near you!

BIOGRAPHY.

tw death

many people would assume that the hefty age gap between maisie and her older brother, kai, was the product of an unplanned pregnancy

in actuality, maisie wasn't a surprise pregnancy, but leyna and rocco demar's last chance to have another child before it would be deemed unwise to do so--a use it or lose it type of situation

having spent ten years thinking their son was to be their only child, the demars (leyna, specifically) had put all their best efforts into shaping kai into being the ideal heir of the family

it's not to say that no effort was made with maisie, but whereas kai had been easily molded to their expectations, she'd always seemed to have marched to the beat of her own drum, much to their mother's frustration

she was not immune to that nagging feeling in the back of her mind that she was lagging behind, both riding the coattails and hiding in the shadows of her brother's successes--and if she were somehow able to forget it, her mother was always right there to remind her

her dad was both her crutch and her saving grace, there to shield her from the worse of her mother's criticisms, and to bail her out of various committments or extracurriculars she found herself involved in and no longer wished to be. he was her best friend, and biggest supporter.

did well in high school, well liked and able to get along with just about anyone, tried on different cliques and clubs like they were hats...but at the end of those four years, she was nowhere even close to knowing what it was she wanted to do with the rest of her life.

it was her dad who'd suggested community college in order to appease her mother's desire for her to see some higher education, and the first year had gone fine enough--until two months shy of the end of the semester saw rocco being taken from them unexpectedly.

maisie's world shifted on its axis. never had she imagined a world without her father in it, not one where she was still young, not one where she still needed him. it was devastating, and left her feeling even more lost than before. she subsequently dropped out of school for the next semester.

somewhere in this grieving period did she start turning towards social media as a distraction. posting silly little videos that got no views, tweeting into the void...she couldn't explain it, but something about it helped, made her feel better.

she continued to live at home for the next few years, moving out only six months ago after no longer being able to deal with her mother and brother, who’d returned since their father’s death; slowly clawing her way to an associates degree in communications, working at the movie house theater, and falling in love for the first time.

...and it was breaking up for the first time that turned maisie's silly little hobby into a career, after a tik tok she'd made ugly crying about it went viral. her subscribers had gone from 10's to 1,000's what seemed like overnight, and as she kept the content coming, and the numbers kept rising...she began to feel, for the first time, that maybe this could be something to see through.

six months later, and maisie's just quit her job at the theater in order to pursue content creation full time!

HEADCANONS.

her sexuality is questioning as in questioning if she's even into men at all

still trying to find her "image", but so far her tik toks consist mostly of day in my life/what i eat in a day's and food reviews! maybe a recreation of customer interactions from the movie house every now and again, or imitating her mother.

is so used to lying to her mother about things that, at this point, she lies about the most inconsequential things, like what she ate for breakfast

isn’t in love with the idea that this all started because of her and lorelai’s breakup (it feels exploitative and also hurts to have to keep living through), and is definitely trying to shy away from that kind of content, even if it’s what drew people to her page in the first place

CURRENT CONNECTIONS.

current roommate (and lying to her mother about it) to @majorwalker

former roommate but better off as friends in separate homes with @pearlwestbrook

made a tiktok about her breakup with @lorelailewis and went viral

made @silascody's viral prison hooch and almost threw up

enlists @benniesimpson to be her fake roommate when her mother comes over

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

older brother

cousins

a few best friends

childhood friends/classmates

friends who used to be close but had a falling out

weed smoking/drinking buddies

frequent movie theater goers

community college classmates

tik tok mutuals or collaborators or fans

maybe an unserious ex or two from high school?

neighbors

tinder dates/hookups/one night stands

@aurorabayaesthetic

#aurorabay.intro #about #tw death

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hinatastinygiant · 2 years

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Chapter Twenty Four

Siproeta Stelenes

Pairing: Haikyuu!! x Fem!Reader

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After you finish collecting the food you needed to get, you and your group follow Tsukishima to the home he first stayed at after the outage occurred. He explains that it was his friend's parents' house. They were staying there, hoping that his parents would one day return, but apparently, they never have.

"Let's split up and look around," Kuroo nods to the group as you walk through the front door.

"Good idea," we can check out the scene better that way.

"Oh, by the way, Tsukishima, what was your friend's name?" Bokuto asks. "You know, in case we run into his parents or a family member sleeping in one of the rooms."

"Yamaguchi," he replies. "Tadashi."

"'K, let's go!"

You split off from the group and walk straight back into the yard. You slide open the glass door and cautiously step outside into the grass. From where you are, you don't see anybody, but you aren't going to drop your guard. Instead, you grab a shovel from the shed beside the house and walk out further into the yard.

About halfway, you turn the corner of the house to peek down the side. Luckily, nobody is there. Finally declaring the outside of the house safe, you put the shovel down and make your way back to where you came. However, just as your fingers reach the door handle, the sound of a gun echoes through your ears. You quickly pick back up the shovel and run into the house. Inside, you bump into Bokuto.

"Did you hear that?!" you gasp as he reaches his arm to your shoulder to calm you down.

"Yeah, sounded like it came from in the house."

"Shit, let's go check on Osamu and Tsukishima. They both have guns on them. Hopefully it's nothing serious," you say with concern as you pull Bokuto along with you, almost forgetting about his crutches.

On the opposite side of the house, in what appears to be Tadashi's room, you find Tsukishima lying on the ground. You let out a loud gasp as you rush to his side and lift his body into your arms.

"Tsukishima?! What the fuck is going on? What did you do?!" you cry as you look down at the gun in his hands and the blood pouring from his chest. "God, what the fuck?!"

Bokuto stares down absolutely speechless as he watches the scene unfold before him. "Tsukishima... he, he was fine just a few minutes ago," he mutters to himself. "What happened in here."

Just then, Kuroo bursts right past Bokuto and slides on the ground beside you. "What's going on in here?!" he asks. "Who did this to him?!"

"I dunno," you shake your head slightly as you try to wrap your head around the whole thing. "It's like Bokuto said. He was fine just a few minutes ago."

"You didn't see anything, did you, Y/N?" Atsumu, who has just entered the room with his brother, asks.

"No. You didn't happen to hear anything did you?" you ask. "May- maybe someone came in, shot him, and ran off," you sniffle as you try to come up with a reasonable explanation for this whole thing.

"He wouldn't kill himself, would he?" Osamu mutters, not wanting to say the wrong thing.

"No," you shake your head. "I don't think he would. He never even expressed being upset or anything. I always thought he was just like that, ya know?"

"Well, what do we do now?" Bokuto asks.

Your eyes catch on the shovel sitting on your left side. "There's only one thing we can do right now. He's dead. I can't help him in any other way."

"So we bury him?" Kuroo asks as he looks down at Tsukishima's lifeless body.

"I can't think of a more appropriate place to do it than here. I think he'd want it that way, too," you admit.

"Kuroo, Y/N, take a step back. Osamu and I can take care of it," Atsumu offers after watching the two of you grieve. "I may not have known him very well, but I can promise you we'll give him a proper burial."

"We'll come along," you say as you stand onto your feet with Kuroo's help. "I want to be here."

"Me, too," Kuroo nods.

Bokuto bends down and hands the shovel to Kuroo. "Agreed. I do, too."

The three of you follow along as Atsumu and Osamu pick up Tsukishima's body and carry him to the backyard. They dig a hole about six feet deep, a proper burial just like Atsumu promised, and carefully lay him down. You squeeze Bokuto's hand tight as you watch Tsukishima's body disappear under the dirt.

"The day I met you guys I promised Tsukishima that if anything ever happened to me, I'd give him my bus. What the hell am I supposed to do with it now?" you ask, only to receive no answer back.

"Tsukishima may have been closed off at times, but he was a good friend. I didn't think I'd ever bond with someone over catching fish in the middle of an apocalypse, but he was a good dude," Kuroo nods.

"He was," Bokuto agrees. "It wasn't hard to see how much he cared about you, Y/N."

"That's for sure," Kuroo chimes in. "Remember, he was supposed to leave after you met me."

"Yeah," you smile softly as you think about the day you met Tsukishima, Bokuto, and Kuroo, "but he stayed because he didn't trust either of you."

"Safe to say that opinion changed," Bokuto grins slightly.

"Definitely."

Your walk back to the bus is silent. You have no idea what you're going to tell the others, especially since you have no idea how he died. It could have been from an outside person, a suicide, or even a murder committed by one of the four others at his funeral. Your only hope is that it isn't the last option. You don't want your trust in the others to change, but if you don't come up with answers soon, you know this isn't going to end well.

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jamespatrickcarey · 3 months

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Rising Above Adversity: Extraordinary Triumphs in Personal Injury Law

Personal injury cases can be devastating, both physically and emotionally. Victims often find themselves in the depths of despair, grappling with pain, suffering, and financial burdens. However, through the expertise and dedication of personal injury attorneys, these tragic stories can transform into tales of triumph. In this article, we'll explore some remarkable cases where personal injury law has brought justice and closure to those who have suffered.

A Second Chance at Life: The Miracle Recovery

Imagine surviving a life-altering accident that left you paralyzed from the waist down. That was the reality for Mark Davis, a young man who was involved in a severe car crash. Mark's journey from tragedy to triumph began when he sought the assistance of a skilled personal injury attorney.

Mark's attorney conducted a thorough investigation and discovered that the accident had been caused by a negligent driver who had been texting while driving. Armed with this evidence, the attorney took the case to court, fighting for Mark's rights. The result? A substantial settlement that allowed Mark to access top-notch medical care and rehabilitation services.

Through unwavering determination and the support of his legal team, Mark defied all odds and gradually regained mobility. Today, he walks with the help of crutches, a testament to the power of personal injury law to provide individuals with a second chance at life.

Justice for the Voiceless: Advocating for Animal Attack Victims

Personal injury law isn't limited to human victims. It also extends to those whom animals have harmed. Sarah Johnson's story is a prime example of how the legal system can bring justice to the voiceless.

Sarah was out for her usual evening jog when she was viciously attacked by a neighbor's dog that had escaped from its leash. The injuries she sustained were severe, leaving her with profound physical and emotional scars. With mounting medical bills and psychological trauma, Sarah turned to a personal injury attorney who specialized in animal attack cases.

Her attorney filed a lawsuit against the negligent dog owner, arguing that they had failed to restrain their pet correctly. Through relentless advocacy, the attorney secured a settlement that covered Sarah's medical expenses and provided compensation for her pain and suffering. More importantly, this case prompted the dog owner to take measures to prevent future incidents, ensuring the safety of the community.

A Family's Fight for Justice: The Wrongful Death Lawsuit

Losing a loved one is never easy, but it's especially devastating when their death is the result of someone else's negligence. The Thompson family faced this heart-wrenching reality when their son, Michael, was tragically killed in a workplace accident due to inadequate safety measures.

Fueled by grief and a desire for justice, the Thompsons turned to a compassionate personal injury attorney who specialized in wrongful death cases. The attorney tirelessly investigated the incident, uncovering evidence that pointed to the company's negligence and disregard for safety regulations.

In a courtroom battle that seemed impossible, the Thompson family's attorney pursued justice with unwavering determination. Through the legal process, they were able to hold the company accountable for their actions, securing a substantial settlement that would provide financial security for the grieving family.

Triumph Over Corporate Negligence: The Asbestos Case

For years, countless individuals were unknowingly exposed to asbestos, a carcinogenic substance that led to severe health issues, including mesothelioma. Mary Adams was one of these victims, and her story is a testament to personal injury law's ability to triumph over corporate negligence.

Mary had worked for a construction company that regularly used asbestos-containing materials. Decades later, she was diagnosed with mesothelioma, a deadly cancer directly linked to asbestos exposure. Determined to hold the company accountable, Mary sought legal representation from a personal injury attorney specializing in asbestos cases.

The attorney took on the corporate giants responsible for Mary's exposure, skillfully navigating a complex legal landscape. Through a series of lawsuits, negotiations, and courtroom battles, they secured a substantial settlement that not only provided Mary with much-needed financial support but also sent a powerful message to corporations about the consequences of their actions.

From miraculous recoveries to justice for the voiceless, personal injury law has the power to transform tragedy into triumph. These incredible stories of victory serve as a reminder of the essential role that skilled and compassionate attorneys play in ensuring that victims receive the justice and compensation they deserve. While personal injury cases are inherently challenging, these stories showcase the resilience of individuals and the legal system's ability to bring about positive change in the lives of those who have suffered.

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aspenforest732 · 4 months

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Mortem ad Wrens Chapter 26: Someday We Will Discover

Summary:

tw: vomiting, abuse, flashback, intrusive thoughts, starved, vomiting, fear, memories of bodily harm, nightmares, intrusive thoughts, ed thoughts, child abuse, muzzling, abandonment, foster care, drugs, seizures, creepy adult, ableism Therapy, bit of Popmic, and training camp begins

Notes:

Summary of Chapter 25: Akira’s taken to a secondary location where the traffickers are holding other children for auction or experimentation. They’re put up for online auction, but the heroes raid the facility. Only one other child survives. Akira promises to let Fat Gum know if they know they’re going to be kidnapped, and they have dinner with the Yamazawas, Fat Gum, and Amajiki. MiriTama and ShinKami confirmed. ‘text’ JSL Text thoughts

‘Seeing them just reminded me of when I was younger,’ Akira leaned against the tree trunk on the lowest branch. Fortunately, the late July heat had let up enough to make being outside bearable for longer than a few minutes. Akira still had extra water bottles and their crutches against the tree.

“That must’ve been hard,” Inui murmured. “You were in a very difficult position, waiting for heroes while you couldn’t be there for them.”

Akira rolled their eyes but shrunk in on themself. ‘If I can’t save them, how can I…’ they put their head on their knees. They couldn’t exactly tell Inui their plan, but their family always seemed to haunt their sessions.

“We can’t be everywhere at once,” Inui pointed out gently. At Akira’s half-hearted glare, he smiled sadly. “Heroes save a lot of people, but the first ones you lose are the hardest. Working with the community, reaching out to their family members, and seeking out people you care about can help with the grieving process.”

‘I don’t want to burden them with this, though,’ Akira huffed in frustration and picked at the rough bark poking into their legs. ‘It’s not like I haven’t seen bodies before, much less children. That’s pretty common on the streets as much as we try to help each other.’

“Why do you think what happened is harder for you?”

Akira started to respond but paused, lightly worrying their bottom lip. ‘We take care of each other. Those kids had no one, and most of their injuries were old.’

“Do you think they had an unhealthy relationship with their caretakers?”

‘What do you mean?’ Akira peered at Inui from their tree branch.

Inui hummed thoughtfully. “We often compare ourselves to others, especially in familiar situations.”

Akira shook their head. ‘No, I mean… What would you call an unhealthy relationship? I feel like we’ve been working towards a baseline, but I still get caught off guard a lot.’

Inui nodded slowly and took a moment to collect his thoughts. “It depends on the type of relationship, but for this, we’re talking about a healthy parental figure relationship.”

Pulling from their previous sessions, Akira hesitantly replied, ‘So healthy aspects would be what, only harming each other as punishment and being responsible for each other?’

Inui frowned, “That’s a very low bar. Can you try setting it higher?”

Akira tensed before letting a shudder release some of the tension. Brow pinched in concentration, they tried to think of the snippets he’d shared against some of the “punishments” their family doled out, but most of what they talked about was coping mechanisms and clarifying what was abuse. Granted, the few acts Akira did let slip were some of the less severe methods the Wrens used.

When Akira didn’t respond for a few minutes, Inui gently continued, “Parental figures should never harm their charge, and they should be responsible for their charge. They should provide food, shelter, and education without the expectation of anything in return. Boundaries should be respected, and the charge should feel safe.”

Akira startled, blinking rapidly at the list. Searching Inui’s expression, they only found sincerity and a touch of sadness. ‘You’re saying… Eraser and Mic aren’t the exception outside of hero families?’

Akira jolted awake, bile rising in their throat. They hurriedly stumbled to the bathroom, emptying dinner into the toilet without bothering to turn the light on. After a few minutes, they winced at the light turning on then dimming as they caught a glimpse of Yamada in their peripheral. Too tired and sore to move away, they shuddered as the blonde gently tied their sweaty hair back.

“Hey little listener, I brought some water,” Yamada said softly. He handed them a glass before backing off to a more comfortable distance at their slight flinch. “I know you prefer Shou for this kind of thing, but he’s still on patrol right now. Is it okay if I sit here with you?”

Akira nodded, head pounding as they took a cautious sip. ‘Sorry,’ they signed with shaky hands. ‘You don’t have to stay, I’m fine.’

Yamada hesitated, concerned smile becoming uncertain. “Is that you asking me to leave, little listener? I don’t want to crowd you.”

Akira shook their head and leaned against the toilet, shifting slightly onto the pale blue shower mat as they forced some more water down.

“Okay. Was it something you ate?” Yamada asked after a moment. He slowly adjusted so his knees weren’t directly on the cold white tiles while Akira watched him like a hawk out of the corner of their eye.

‘Nightmare.’ When their stomach finally stopped trying to eject itself, Akira carefully stood and flushed. Shoulders tense, they passed Yamada’s relaxed but vigilant form to sit on the couch and pull the weighted blanket over themself. They winced as their left leg spasmed painfully, the compound fractures in the memory still lingering.

“Think you can handle some soup?” Yamada asked just loudly enough from the kitchen.

Y̷̢͖̘̥͙̜̳̼̮̗̯̱͒̔̅͂̇͒o̷̫̭̣̙̗̟̼̫̖̣͎̱̠̮̰͓̽́́̐̒͆̓́̾̈́̑̏̾̈́̚͜û̸͕͖͕̜̱͕͎̜̘̀͐ ̵̡̨̘̝̥̟̜͇̳͚̮̘̿̏̐̓͊͗̊̀̅͑̌̓́̊̅̚͜͜d̸͙̰͚̦͉̠̹̜̲͆̂͋͒͌͆̄̽͐̾͋͆̀o̷̡̭͎̠͕̳̩̟̺̽̿͆̿̍͜͝n̸̲̩̯͙̩͔̜̠̺̻̥̆͂̐͗͛̌̃̋̚’̵̫̘͕͕̮̲̺̭͔̟͌̊̀͌̀̂̀̄͑̔͌͐͠͠t̶̢̻͓͙̼͓̫̗̣̐̑̔̏ ̴̡͇͇̪͈͉̺̪́̇̏͝ď̶̹̻̣͍̤̺̹̖̖̘̣̥̩̉̈́͋̐̍́̔͂͐̋͝͝ȩ̸̤̩̞͍͕̝́́̌̀̐͝͠s̴̨̨̨̮̮̮̗̗̻͙̱̼̪̈̇̓̕͝ę̵̡̤̳̤̘̜̱̳̒͐̆̓̄̀͆̽̈͑̾̉̀̕͠ͅr̴̙͍̥̹̟̼̹̳̰̣̯͈̟̊̊̂̕͝v̸̮̪̘̠̤̗̮̤̺̱̏̽͒͊ͅe̶̪̘̻͙͕̊̈̉́̽̃͆̈́͑͊͆́̕͘ ̴̛̙̞̳̄ͅf̵̛̠͍̎͐̊̔̊̀͒̂͠ơ̵̧͎̯̙̙̖̞̹̮͔̠̳͚̤̐̈́̽͜͝͝ơ̷̧̟͙͎̬̣̜̺͒̀̀̋͐͑͝͝d̴̨̧̯̻͙̱̞̊̍̉,̸̢̧̥̱̩̰͎͕̎̎̊̂̈́̌̿̋͒̄ ̶̙̩̩̲̬̣͖͎̹̃͗̏͑͌́͆͘͝ (You don’t deserve food)

Akira shivered and gave a thumbs up despite their stomach doing flips. They flipped to the current day in their nutrition journal, wincing as they registered what their episode had cost. Akira noted the loss and left it open face down to update once they were done. They took the proffered leftover soup, letting it first warm their hands as they willed themself to eat.

O̴̡̢͈̠̻̲̬͎͓̹̹͕̭͗̿̈́̇̋̏͘͘͜ͅn̷̡̡͚̪̳̭̞̲͓̘͍̪̦͉͔͙̋́̓͆̈́͊l̵̼͖̤̀͜ͅy̴̞͍̋̊͒͜ͅ ̷̡̯̦̥̬̱͔̾̾̈́̈̃̈́͐̎̚͘͝͠ṫ̴̡̛̐̿̈́̅̃͝͠ḫ̴̨̼̩̘̝̘́͌̈̌͆́̃͐̉̑͆̕͝i̵̧̟̟̜̘̫̬͗n̷̬̟̟̠͓̫̋͒̊̕k̵͔̯̱̹͕̖̇̿̃̈́͗̀̅̓̒̍͌̍͘͝͠ ̷̲̖̠͙̠̺͚͓̻̣͇̻̟̻͔̍͌̈́o̵̢̭̮͈͂̀̇̋̈̓̓͋̿̓̂̾f̸̡̧̭͎͕̗̱͙͉̞̖̝̝̦̻͓̊̈́̀̀̓̚͠ ̸̡̤͔͍̘̭̥͚̎́̂̐ỵ̶̨̝̗̗̘͇̹̱̱͎͓̘͒̓́̒̓̾͗̂̽͂̃̓̽̉̇͠ò̴̡̨̖̥̥̝̦͕̹͚͕͍̘͓̜̦̾͋͌̉ū̵͓̑̐̎̅̌͐́̉̓̔͆̚r̵͈̠̗̓̅͌́͂̆̎͐̿́̀͛͘͜s̴̙͎̲̍̏̌̇̓͗͗̐̔̋̆̏̚ȅ̷̦̻̘̖̭̊͂͆͂̏̐͠l̷͉̚ḟ̶̭̥ (Only think of yourself)

“Mori? Are you alright?” Yamada hovered a meter away, concern lacing his features.

Akira nodded and glared at the soup for a moment before forcing themself to start eating. They swallowed thickly around the lump in their throat and tried to focus on the soft couch and comfortable weight of the blanket on their chest instead of the guilt churning in their gut. After a few spoonfuls, they signed, ‘Intrusive thoughts. Not your fault.’

Yamada settled into Aizawa’s armchair with a mug of tea and placed another near them on the coffee table. Akira held back a wince as they realized they were too stuck in their head to hear the kettle going off. After a few minutes, Yamada gently asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Akira continued forcing soup down for a moment before shrugging. ‘It was one of the tamer nightmares… I had a younger brother, but he wasn’t coping well with the abuse. Tried to sneak him food during one of the starvation tests, and obviously that didn’t go well.’

“One of?” Yamada squeaked, letting out a quiet curse as some of his tea spilled onto his lap.

Akira did a double take as they felt the waves of concern pouring off the hero who was now dabbing at the fabric. He immediately looked back up as they slowly signed, ‘One of the faster, although more difficult to time ways of triggering a Brute quirk.’ Akira carefully watched his reaction morph into shock then anger before Yamada tried to school his expression.

He took a breath as Akira cautiously set down their soup. “I’m mad at the people who did that, not you, little listener. Was it your family?” At their nod, Yamada ran a hand down his face. “Did you know I was in foster care growing up?”

Akira slowly shook their head in confusion and shifted to make room for Bastard as the cat opened his mouth to start yowling at them. The tuxedo jumped up onto their lap and gave the stink eye at Yamada.

The hero smiled slightly at the cat, not bothering to correct him this time. The smile fell as Yamada continued, “My parents went deaf shortly after I got my quirk, and since it’s one I have to actively suppress, I was forced to wear a muzzle in most of the homes.”

Akira’s eyebrows shot up and their hand stilled before signing in confusion, ‘But your quirk is perfect for hero work.’ Bastard lightly batted at their hand without his claws until they resumed petting him.

Yamada laughed bitterly, “If it was something I turned on instead of actively keeping off, maybe. But all they saw was a liability.” His expression softened as he focused back on Akira. “The point is I can understand how terrible people can be. Shou got it more from his peers, but we both want to be here for you.”

Akira nodded haltingly then frowned as they looked at a ping from Dabi. “August 7th. Wooded area.” Realizing that would be the third day of camp, Akira signed as much to Yamada, who grew more worried.

Friday night, an arms deal was almost complete under Akira’s watchful gaze when they spotted a familiar shadow enter the window. Catching Isao’s eyes, they signed ‘Eraser. I stall.’ With a nod from the muscle, Akira padded across the beams to intercept the hero. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’

Expression deceptively blank, the hero signed back, ‘We need to talk away from birds.’

Akira took a steadying breath and nodded, signing for him to stay while they made their way back into Isao’s line of sight and gave an all-clear. As the gangs dispersed, Akira swept once more for bugs before making their way back into the rafters. Tension burning throughout their body, Akira tried to put on an air of nonchalance. ‘Fat Gum gave you the brief if you know the code. What do you want to know?’

‘How much does Siren know?’ Aizawa bluntly asked, eyes searching their small frame in the darkness.

Akira blinked at the easy question. ‘I was abused, my quirk forcibly manifested, and I agree with aspects of Stain’s ideology. I’m trying to avoid putting more people in danger than necessary.’

Aizawa nodded slowly, face still closed off and impassive. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

Akira shot him a disbelieving look before signing, ‘You’re a mandated reporter, and I couldn’t be sure that underground heroes were safe. You being married to Mic was a red flag as much as him being married to you was a green flag. And I don’t want to put Siren in danger.’

‘Who can I bring in without informing them of the larger investigation?’

Akira hesitated before clarifying, ‘For intelligence gathering, scouting, protecting…’

Aizawa let out a small sigh, ‘Intel gathering. Nezu and Sir Nighteye are the best Japan has in the field outside the Wrens, and both have a distaste towards the family and the Commission.’

Akira shivered as they leaned against a support beam, shifting weight off their mostly healed leg. ‘Principal knows… something. I’ve been avoiding the stoat to put off further risk, and I haven’t died yet, so…’

Aizawa ducked into his capture scarf with a small, exasperated smile. ‘I can find out for you. Nezu will probably ask to see you.’

Akira lightly rapped their head against the beam before nodding. We’d need to find out eventually. If he hasn’t turned me in yet, maybe, just maybe he is on my side.

Monday morning, Akira woke to the odd smell of burnt bread and red bean paste. Confused, they saw it was only 04:30, a full hour before they needed to be up to catch the train to U.A. Akira rolled off the couch to see Dabi in the kitchen cursing at a sheet of taiyaki that were a little extra crispy. They laughed, stepping closer with heavy steps to avoid startling the man. ‘You okay?’

“Fine,” Dabi grumbled as he roughly used a spatula to scrape the treats off, “these were meant to be a surprise.”

Akira waved him off, plucking one off the tray and taking a cautious nibble. Steam erupted from the fish-shaped waffle, and they offered a smile. ‘Not bad. Just a little burnt on the outside. Thanks.’ Peeking around Dabi, Akira grinned at the two baked and one raw sheet of taiyaki on the counter. The former seemed to have fared better at least. ‘Might as well get ready since I’m up. Want some help?’

Akira grinned as Dabi called back no and continued grumbling over the waffles. They triple-checked their duffle bag and eventually decided to bring all their non-perishable snacks and ingredients. The pair had discussed at length the ever-growing chance they’d see each other on Wednesday but couldn’t justify raising an alarm beyond telling Yamada and Aizawa. More food would at least give Akira a better chance of surviving the rest of the League if it came to that.

‘And you’ll ping your location when you warp on site, right?’ Akira asked as they were halfway out the door.

“Yes, now go! You’re going to miss the train,” Dabi said, lightly shoving them out the door.

“Mori! It’s good to see you here this early,” Ida chopped. “Please store any large bags under the bus and take one small bag with you.”

Akira just gave a thumbs up and pulled their box of taiyaki out of their duffle before stowing it. ‘Would you like a taiyaki?’

“Of course, thank you!”

Akira handed one to Aizawa and two to Hitoshi – all three from the less burnt batches – with a wink to the latter before settling towards the middle of the bus in a window seat with their box and oversized smoothie tumbler Yamada insisted on getting them. They’d already had their smoothie for breakfast, but Akira didn’t want to be unprepared with all that could go wrong that week.

The rest of 1-A gradually filtered on, and Sato lit up as he noticed Akira munching on the waffles. He slipped into their row and asked, “Hey Mori, did you make those yourself?”

Startled, Akira shook their head and offered him one. ‘My roommate did.’

Sato grinned as he bit into one, “I love baking. Can you get me the recipe? I like to experiment.”

Akira slowly nodded, glancing at Fumikage as he and Koji sat across the aisle. ‘I also have several recipes from Fat Gum,’ they added haltingly and sent a few taiyaki over via Dark Shadow.

“That’s great! I’d love to get those, too. What’s your favorite to make? I like matcha pound cake.”

Akira leaned into the window a bit, eyes widening minutely as Sato gestured widely. At an encouraging smile from Koji, Akira started exchanging recipes with the boy. Occasionally, his smile faltered as they mentioned cheaper options for ingredients, but he had the tact not to comment.

As the bus headed into the mountains, Akira found themself distracted by the stunning view outside their window. The road climbed high above the trees, letting them see for miles around as Musutafu shrunk in the distance. After only an hour, the bus stopped, and Akira cast a concerned glance to Aizawa as they took in the heavily wooded area below the rest area. Class B’s bus had split off twenty minutes prior, and they weren’t there.

‘Is everything alright?’ they signed to Aizawa.

‘Make sure you have your food and meds,’ Aizawa simply replied. Akira peered up at him before double-checking their backpack.

Pixie-Bob and Mandalay burst from the other car, posing while a young boy scoffed in the background. As Midoriya went off on an excited muttering storm over their team, Pixie-bob rushed forward, claws extending. Akira immediately warped to Midoriya, shoving him out of the way as they ducked under her hand.

“18 at- huh?” Pixie-Bob vehemently insisted then caught herself as Aizawa dispelled Akira’s clone and she was met with the protective teen.

After a tense moment, Akira straightened and kept an eye on her as they led an embarrassed Midoriya back. Aizawa frowned slightly in confusion at Pixie-Bob, raising an eyebrow at Mandalay. They did not join the class greeting as Mandalay pointed out where they would be staying in the distance.

“It’s 9:30 a.m. right now. If you’re fast, maybe around noon?” Mandalay mused, tail twitching.

Casting an annoyed look at Aizawa, Akira sighed. That’s at least 6 hours on foot if they have obstacles. The rest of the class started panicking and rushing for the bus as Pixie-Bob started a feline wiggle.

“Kitties who don’t make it by 12:30 won’t get any lunch!”

“Sorry folks, but training camp…” Aizawa said, a twinge of amusement on his face as Pixie-Bob jumped between the students and the bus. “has already begun.” He met Akira’s eyes with a slight nod.

As an avalanche of dirt flew toward the group, Akira warped on top of the bus. The dirt avalanche seemed to provide enough stability from Pixie-Bob’s quirk to not cause injury, but they didn’t want to risk loose dirt behind the wave still tumbling them into its path.

“Since it’s private land, you can use your Quirks as you wish!” Mandalay continued to explain as Aizawa held out a hand for Akira.

“You can either go with the class or continue on the bus,” Aizawa offered blandly. “I trust you to know what you can handle in this heat.”

Akira slid down the front of the bus, a hand keeping their skirt from riding up. They took the proffered hand to get the rest of the way down and gave a sharp nod to Aizawa, ‘I’ll go with the group. Shouldn’t be a problem with what I packed, but for that distance, I’ll need my mobility aids. Open the undercarriage, please.’

“Hey, where’s Mori?” they distantly heard while half climbing into the undercarriage to get to their bag.

They quickly sent a message to the group chat, “warped onto bus. Will be down in minute.”

Capture scarf settled around their neck and crutches in place, they walked up to the edge of the rest stop and surveyed the nearly sheer cliff face. After a minute, they settled on a path and started warping down, focusing on where they were going instead of the forest below. Once down, they signed, ‘I will need a break in three hours to take meds and will likely need to stop a few more times due to the heat.’

Midoriya and Ida briskly nodded and started brainstorming attack patterns as a dirt and stone creature emerged from the woods. Surging forward, Akira used their capture scarf to pull it down and away from the group. Bakugo and Shoto swiftly blasted it to pieces before Midoriya landed the final blow.

As more creatures emerged, the group set up surveillance, distraction, control, and attack teams. Akira mostly ran distraction with their clones and warping while Hitoshi headed control with their ever-present capture weapon.

When the group was barely a third to the foot of the mountains, Akira signed for the group to stop as they sat on a stump and finished off their tumbler before taking their lunch dose. They polished off their last few taiyaki and noticed Yaoyorozu staring at them. ‘What?’

“How were you allowed to bring that much when we weren’t?” she asked bitterly.

‘Most of it was already in my backpack. The rest was part of grabbing what I needed to manage my quirk. I only stowed these because I was under the impression we were taking the bus the whole way.’ After a swig of water, Akira added, ‘I told you to keep snacks on you.’

Yaoyorozu huffed and stalked off to where Jiro was listening with Shoji. A few minutes later, Akira stood and the group moved on. Yaoyorozu wordlessly handed them a pair of blades a couple hours later as the attack group started running out of steam. Akira warily took the blades, testing their balance before handing over a strawberry jelly pouch to the girl’s apparent surprise. Over the next couple hours, they started to feel a strange burn compounding their aches somewhat like when they used their quirk too much after burning through their fat.

Wait, is this my quirk exhaustion? Akira startled with the realization. They kept up with their metabolism for the most part, so it wasn’t a buffer issue. In between monster sightings, they pulled out their quirk notebook and jotted down the symptoms to go over later.

When the group finally made it to base camp around 17:30, everyone was physically and quirk exhausted, dragging their feet and bearing scrapes and bruises from the numerous fights. Akira had burned through everything they’d brought for the day and had stopped actively using their quirk an hour prior. They stumbled into the clearing supporting Kaminari, who was in the midst of another absence seizure.

Got it, corrupt and ignorant, Akira thought bitterly as they listened to Pixie-Bob admit to boasting. Their eyes narrowed as she looked hungrily toward Ida, Midoriya, Bakugo, and Shoto. Akira passed Kaminari off to Fumikage just in time to see the hero rush at the group, and Akira warped into her side mid-air, harshly pushing her off course as Aizawa’s capture scarf lifted.

‘Back off,’ Akira glared as Pixie-Bob landed on her feet a few paces away. ‘You’re making everyone uncomfortable.’

“I just can’t wait to see where you’ll be in three years!” she cooed.

Akira stalked forward menacingly, capture scarf rising as Aizawa sharply called out, “Leave the kids alone.” As he stalked over to retrieve the heroine, Akira locked eyes with Aizawa and stood down at the fierce protectiveness.

“Whose k-kid is that?” Midoriya asked nervously while his fingers fidgeted. As Mandalay introduced Kota, Akira watched her partner like a hawk.

‘Why is she allowed anywhere near children?’ Akira spun on Aizawa as the others unloaded the bus and Pixie-Bob and Mandalay took Kota inside.

Aizawa frowned after the rescue heroes, “I will be speaking with her. I’ve never seen Pixie-Bob act like this, or I would’ve insisted on a different group.”

By dinner, Pixie-Bob seemed to calm down, although Akira kept an eye on her. Since Aizawa had prepared cold compresses for them in the time it took to get to camp, Akira had a few on their legs and chest held in place by their capture weapon.

“You normally wear the boy’s uniform, right Mori?” Sato asked in between mouthfuls of curry.

Akira nodded, ‘Pant uniform, yes. Less likely to get misgendered when I don’t wear traditionally feminine clothing. I’m only wearing the skirt uniform because of the heat.’

“I didn’t know you could get multiple uniforms,” Kaminari added as he sat down.

Akira smiled at them. ‘Good to see you recharged. Eraser-sensei told me the process when I last went to Nurse’s office. I can help you with it if you want.’

“What are you taking pills for?” Yaoyorozu added as Akira took their evening dose.

Akira scowled at them, ‘None of your business. Piss off.’

“Well, you take more food than anyone else, you’re taking unmarked pills, and you got special treatment while we got thrown off a cliff. What’s next, you pass the licensing exam just so they have a-”

“Yaoyorozu, enough. With me,” Aizawa said gruffly, making her go rigid.

“That, uh, that would be great,” Kaminari said as they walked off. “The second uniform process, I mean.”

“Me, too,” Jiro added, looking after Yaoyorozu in confusion.

Akira quietly slipped into the hot springs area wearing only their swim trunks and settled into the water. Kaminari and Midoriya, who had been talking animatedly by the entrance went quiet as they passed.

“Woah, Mori, is that like a tattoo or something?” Kaminari asked, padding after them.

‘Or something. It’s a scar.’

“That’s so manly!” Kirishima grinned. “Is it a cultural thing?”

Akira hesitantly shook their head, glancing at Hitoshi. ‘Not really, but I have heard of that.’

“Did you get it done somewhere special? The lines are so smooth,” Kaminari asked, reaching out.

Akira slid away from his hand as they tried to keep their breathing controlled.

“Hey, maybe they don’t want to-” Koji started softly.

“Oh yeah! I heard about that guy, what’s his… Carpenter! He’s that hero who brings masterpieces out of any material, right? It’s so rare he works with human canvases. His work looks kind of like that,” Midoriya babbled as Akira blanched and slipped further down in the water.

Hitoshi said, “Hey Midoriya?”

“Ye-”

“Shut up.” Hitoshi glared between Midoriya and the others, clearly daring them to say anything. After a moment, he released Midoriya who blushed, muttering a quick apology before going to sit with Ida. “Are you okay?”

Akira shook their head as their back spasmed. They stood after a moment, signing ‘alone’ before going back to the shared bedroom. Should’ve just worn a regular shirt when I saw I was missing my rash guard, Akira thought bitterly. Their scar burned and itched like they’d landed on a fire ant hill, so they used their long makeup brush to put a little scar cream on it. After a few seconds made it clear the effects were phantom pains, Akira settled for leaning against the grey wall while stroking their Bastard plush in their lap.

“Hey, why do you have a stuffed animal?”

Akira looked up, blinking as they noticed Kota enter the room. ‘Do you know what grounding means?’

“No,” the boy huffed, crossing his arms.

Akira resumed stroking Bastard, mulling over an explanation for a 5-year-old. ‘I have a lot of bad memories, and sometimes my thoughts get too loud because of them. Grounding can be different for everyone, but the idea is to remind yourself of where you are and what’s around you.’

“And the stuffed cat?” Kota looked confused.

‘Is something soft I associate with positive memories. I didn’t have him during the bad memories,’ Akira tried to explain. The kid still seemed a little confused but nodded. ‘Do you have bad memories?’

“My parents are dead.”

Akira winced. ‘Sorry? Did you watch them-’

“No, they were stupid, heroes like you idiots are trying to be with your corny powers.”

Setting Bastard aside, Akira motioned for Kota to come closer. ‘Heroes can be ignorant, mean, or contradictory. The good ones try to save people, and I think most of my classmates could be good heroes.’

“But you’re all just showing off, so you’ll end up dead like them!” Kota stormed up.

Akira’s breath hitched as they briefly saw Minori before they shook their head lightly. They took a deep breath before continuing, ‘Some are, and some will. I don’t blame you for disliking heroes; I don’t like them, either.’ At Kota’s bewildered look, Akira offered a small, bitter smile. ‘Most of my bad memories come from heroes, but there are a few I can now say I look up to. All of these kids have been through a lot, so just try to keep that in mind, okay?’

Kota seemed conflicted before turning and running out of the room. Akira shook their head and turned in for the night, back still on fire as they left the blanket off.

Notes:

Akira’s been going to therapy for three months now with a pause when summer break started. There isn’t the pressure of seeing him every day or interacting outside of sessions, so they feel a bit more comfortable. Kiddo’s still trying to grasp what baselines are supposed to be Gosh this arc came up fast and I’m trying not to cram growth but damn it’s hard. I was especially struggling with my hyperphantasia acting up as I tried to figure out what trauma to have Akira relive, so ended up not writing the dream sequence. I'm really looking forward to seeing y'all's reactions to the last few chapters as things heat up

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