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maxwell-grant · 2 years

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Nice to find another VentureBros fan ! Who are your favorite characters ?

I'm actually gonna rank this as something of a Top 8. Honorable mentions include: Rusty Venture, Dean Venture post Season 4, Shore Leave, The Blue Morpho/Vendata, Hunter Gathers and Professor von Helping.

8: Wide Wale

I think just conceptually the idea of Whale/Shark Kingpin as a major player in a superhero setting is just a very appealing combination to me personally. I'm a sucker for sealife-themed characters, especially if they are shark themed but whales are great too, and Wide Wale's a sealife-themed pastiche of one of my favorite superhero villains with this really great, really distinct voice, and like so many of Venture Bros' best characters, it really doesn't take long before you wind up forgetting what he's meant to be a caricature of and just fully buy the character just as much, if not more, as the thing they're supposed to be making fun of or referencing. I think Wide Wale, even while being a lot more straightforward and simple than so many other characters, is a great example of that. I think even at a really basic level, he's genuinely a cool character and an example of how the show’s approach to it’s characters had matured since the early seasons, and apparently so thought the creators, which is why they didn't kill him off in Season 7.

The episode was born from a single Jaws joke: Wide Wale dying in his pool just like Spielberg's shark. "But when we got around to writing it, we're like, 'Well, we don't want to kill Wide Wale, he's awesome," Hammer said. "But I got it stuck in my head that we had to do a Jaws joke. But instead of doing a Jaws joke, we created a longform love letter to deep-cut Jaws jokes. - Jackson Publick

I like that right from the start he's established as the leading supervillain in NYU, and because this is Venture Bros and there's a lot more supervillains running around than superheroes, to the point it mainly falls to the supervillains to kinda police each other so things don’t get too out of hand, Wide Wale is less the main villain and more this big presence that stuff tends to orbit around, much like The Ventures and The Monarch themselves. I love that he pointedly refuses the seat he’s offered at the highest echelon of villainy, because he’s got business to take care of and because he doesn’t vibe with the idea. I love “This? This isn’t me.” as an explanation for it. I love what it says about him compared to the other villains.

I really like his interactions with other characters like Sheila and his bodyguard Rocco and his daughter, and that he does have a family that ends up humanizing him a lot and even revealing that, keeping with the show's tradition, he is kind of a pathetic fuck-up. All he wanted was to make his brother proud, and despite being really dedicated to his family, he's too blinded and self-centered to notice the ways he ends up smothering them.

Big shot mob boss as a doting yet corny dad to his daughter? Cliche, but cute. Big shot supervillain kingpin who happens to be the younger brother of a one-off gag character, who 100% adores and looks up to his scientist big brother even in their separate ways, to the point that said gag character can show up and pull his ear while he haphazardly tries to hide his gritty mob business from him? It’s pure Venture Bros.

7: Brock Samson

I think it’s kind of a given that, even if Brock isn’t among your favorite VB characters general, he’s definitely most people’s favorite when they start watching the show. Because while it takes for Doc and the boys to really come on their own as characters and The Monarch’s still being ironed out, Brock is a pretty complete character from the get-go. He’s the world’s biggest badass, stuck with the world’s lamest and most self-destructive explorers, a much more dynamic sort than the Ventures who also doesn’t have as much room to grow and change as they do at first. Despite seeming like it, he is not the protagonist, he’s the sidekick holding the whole thing together (a dynamic they would later repurpose for Henchman 21, who grows into a mini-Brock in his own right). By all means, he should be out there saving the world with supermodels hanging onto his biceps, but instead he’s busy slaughtering shmucks in butterfly costumes while babysitting a failed scientist and his idiot sons, and occasionally arguing about the merits of Led Zeppelin with their nanny robot, which goes a long way in helping ground Brock’s over-the-top badassery in just the right amount of indignity so he doesn’t feel out of place in the show and stays more than just a one-note caricature.

Brock carries the show a lot over the first two seasons, which makes his departure and eventual return that much more significant and ends up giving Brock and the show a lot of room to grow, solo and together. The cynical premise behind a lot of what makes Brock funny ends up becoming horrifying as we get more stories from the villain and henchmen point of view and also grows into a series of great dynamics, as Brock The Swedish Murder Machine gives more way to Brock The Murder Dad. A Brock who’s a part of the family, a Brock who Hank looks up to and imitates as an uncle and father and hero, a Brock who’s as great on the lead as he’s in a secondary role. A Brock who’s got friends and partners and enemies and whose interesting life outside of the Ventures actually does feel like a rich inner world for him, a Brock who doesn’t need to carry the show or the Ventures anymore, and ends up growing more as a comfortable presence to the audience, which is a funny word to use for a disemboweling enthusiast who’s single-handedly filled entire graveyards. I know some people miss twitchy-eyed Murder Machine Brock, but I wouldn’t trade Murder Dad Brock for anything, his dynamic with Hank is real special to me.

6: DOCTOR BYROON ORPHEUS *musical sting

The big problem I have with Dr Strange in general is that, despite really loving some of the comics I’ve read of him (particularly Into Shamballa and Triumph and Torment), despite him being conceptually a character I should deeply adore (Vincent Price as the world’s greatest wizard whose niche is combining weird and horrific pulp cosmology with psychedelic superhero visuals), most of the time, Strange as a character bores and annoys me way more often than I’d like him to, especially starting with his 2010s appearences that have modeled him after his teeth-grindingly boring MCU portrayal and made him magic Tony Stark / BBC’s Sherlock. I get that’s like, his deal now, I just find it depressingly basic.

I bring this up because a lot of what I love about Dr Orpheus is that, while he doesn’t have the benefit of starring in his own stories, Orpheus takes everything great and endearing about Dr Strange and cranks it to eleven. His dialogue is completely unmistakable from everyone else’s, even without Stephen Rattazzi’s brilliant voice and that iconic music sting. Dr O gets really, really funny lines despite being ostensibly one of the more serious characters of the show (Do not be too hasty entering that room...I HAD TACO BEEELLLL FOR LUNCH!). Even in episodes where Orpheus only shows up to fix a problem or do a small cameo, he dines on the scenery in a way no other character does, and it’s no small feat in a show full of over-the-top personalities.

I also really like that Orpheus is overall one of the nicest characters of the show. He’s still flawed, he can be pedantic and pathetic and irritable and petty and arrogant, his dedication to his work and know-it-all attitude soured his relationships with his ex-wife and daughter, and he gets dragged for his flaws quite a bit in-universe to the point everyone’s kinda annoyed at him much of the time, but he’s also one of the most unambiguously good characters in-universe, and in a show chock full of some of the worst parents imaginable, it’s definitely nice to have at least one dad who genuinely tries to be the best he can be, even if that involves wiping his daughter’s memories every now and then, and ultimately accepting that his efforts to protect her have only held her back and that she’s really better off doing exactly what he didn’t want for her. I enjoy every scene he’s in and I really enjoy just listening to Orpheus’s dialogue and voice, he’s a very fun character and if nothing else Orpheus is why I wish that Order of the Triad spin-off took off. Even if it sucked, I would gladly watch and listen to Orpheus forever.

5: Dr Girlfriend / Dr Mrs The Monarch / Sheila / Dr Mrs-Whatever-Now

There’s been a lot said about how poorly a lot of jokes made in adult cartoons tend to age, especially those starting in the early 2000s, and likewise a lot of Venture Bros fans who’ve stuck with the show can’t help but admit that the first three seasons have a lot of jokes and moments that have aged poorly (Doc Hammer himself derides the episode “Love Bheits” as homophobic). And on the other hand, Venture Bros has also been praised for it’s willingness to experiment with gender-divergent characters and openly tackle questions about identity and sexuality long before other cartoons picked up the slack, and Dr Girlfriend is one example of that. On any other show, “hot woman with a deep masculine voice” would have been the source of one-off gags and transphobic jokes, jokes that make said woman the target of ridicule. But that’s not what Venture Bros does with Dr Girlfriend:

Dr. Mrs. The Monarch started as a parody of Jackie Kennedy, including her iconic deep, raspy voice that was then elevated (or, in this case, physically lowered) by Doc Hammer for the character. I’ve watched a lot of comedies where trans women or crossdressing cis men are the butt of the joke. It’s kind of my brand to subject myself to such things. So, I can recognize the comedic beats that lead to a punchline or “surprise” reveal of trans characters. In the first three or so seasons of The Venture Bros, it feels like the show is constantly leading up to a similar formula, but that punchline never happens.

The joke of Dr. Mrs. The Monarch is as simple as her having a voice deeper than you’d expect, and you are an asshole for questioning it — just like the cast of jerks in this show’s universe.

Dr. Mrs. The Monarch is my favorite Venture Bros character, one of my favorite women in fiction, and she, no matter what theories people have, is not trans. While the reality of this fictional character is that Dr. Mrs. The Monarch isn’t trans, however, if people think you are trans (or “a man” if you want to subscribe to that small brain energy), then in the court of public opinion…you are. Regardless of the actual circumstances surrounding your identity, you are guilty and it will be used against you.

Dr. Mrs. The Monarch is an example of someone who has risen above and succeeded in spite of that judgement both in The Venture Bros universe and in the evolution of how this show and comedy is written in general. Trans or not, I love that. As this show evolved, the running joke of her gender was phased out entirely and this “masculine” characteristic was just treated as matter of fact. It was just a small part of the most stable, capable, and well rounded character in the entire show.

There is a lot that can be written about gender without sticking to the stringent criteria of trans experiences, because expectations exist in all forms. I came to terms with my insecurities a long time ago and that included my deep voice. Hearing that brassy croon be treated as such a normal thing means more to me than most forms of direct representation ever has - Dr Mrs The Monarch and Being Trans In The Court of Public Opinion, by Harmony M.Colangelo

Even at her earliest appearences, when The Monarch was more of a caricature than ever and the show had yet to really start growing beyond the parody aspect, the consistent joke regarding Dr Girlfriend was that she is this enormously competent genius henchwoman working with pathetic cartoon villains who waste her talents on pointless bickers and capers, and if not that, then frequently ignored and belittled on the basis of her gender. And as the show grew, we got to learn more and more about her relationship with The Monarch and Sheila’s own journey, what is it that drives them to stay together, their separations, their arguments, their roles apart from each other. Dr Girlfriend outgrows her role as The Monarch’s partner and by Season 6, she’s openly acknowledged to be the biggest reason why The Guild’s still running, with all other supervillains in the Guild deferring to her. With the exception of mysteriously supernatural players like Dr Killing and The Master, one could argue that, by the end of the show, Dr Girlfriend is the most powerful character, having finally risen to the position where her skills and talents are not wasted and not without cost, of course, as it’s effectively deprived her of ever getting to meaningfully work with her husband, which was the only real passion she had for this enterprise. Nobody in Venture Bros ever fully gets what they want, after all.

I think there’s an argument to be made that Dr Girlfriend is the most “real” character on the show, in the sense that she lacks the extravagant personalities and gimmicks of the other characters or the life-shattering tragedies that guide much of their conflict, and this in itself makes her an outsider who has to juggle a lot of responsabilities and options to keep things running, who has to play a lot of roles and carry a lot on her back, who sometimes gets bent out of shape and frustrated at the mind-numbing amounts of idiocy she comes across, and who even demonstrates ways in which she herself is not quite above said idiocy. After all, she’s the one ruling said idiocy now.

4: Henchman 21 / Gary

Fucking Gary, man, what an excellent protagonist. There’s plenty of characters that people point to when stating Venture Bros has impressive character development, but one that always stands out is Gary. From one-half of a sidelines comedy duo with Henchman 21, as a geek loser henchman to the geek loser villain, secure in his position as a funny but inconsequential element to this world, Gary gets that safety net brutally ripped away with 21′s explosive death, and instead terraforms himself into a muscular unhinged badass, the Brock Samson of the show’s villain side. And past that, he remains a big time protagonist (even hero) on his own right, concluding in once again becoming the one-half of a comedy duo, but this time one that involves his geek loser boss as the two become partners instead. Gary has been growing and changing with this show from day one, even serving as the show’s recap narrator, his cracked nerd voice never changing even as he becomes more and more impressive. He’s as close to an audience-insert character as it gets, of course he has to be a geek overdosed on pop culture references, but he is more than that.

I love Gary because he’s one of the ONLY characters I’ve ever seen who has a physical and mental transformation whose end result isn’t him acquiring a completely different body type. He didn’t slim up, he didn’t get cut abs, he beefed up and got a weighlifter’s big gut, and the show doesn’t play it as a joke. He’s still pudgy, he’s still got a chubby face, he’s still geek-voiced Gary, and he’s a physical badass almost on par with superhuman demigod Brock Samson. He became this through sheer effort on his end and the help of his friends. He does backflips and spinkicks and fistfights bodybuilders and spits blood dramatically while looking cool and impressive and doing things that society thinks fat people shouldn’t be allowed to do without it being played for irony. I just, you pretty much never see superheroes or superhero-adjacent characters with Gary’s body type without some kind of caveat attached (villain, joke character, fat-based superpower, etc), seeing Gary in action, played like he was, genuinely did mean a lot to me.

He's observant and he's unlucky and he gets made fun of, but he's not cynical, and the show doesn't treat him cynically either, and that's important.

3: Red Death

I don’t think there’s any Venture Bros fan that doesn’t have Red Death on their top favorite characters list, holy shit did that dude arrived to steal the show. Top-notch design, killer concept, perfect voicework by Clancy Brown, most of the best scenes across Seasons 6 and 7 involve this guy in some form. Probably the clearest example you can point to in order to demonstrate how much Venture Bros’s outgrown the parody element of it’s earliest seasons.

I like, everything about this guy. I love how they continuously make efforts to undercut his “retired old champ and nice family man here to help the new kids get their footing” thing by constantly reminding us that he is a bloodthirsty murderer who actively enjoys killing and looks forward to any chances for it, but he’s so damn likeable and charming and cool that we all still default to him first and foremost as the dad in the park who talks Monarch down by showing genuine appreciation for him. I love that this is also followed up on his remarks towards Vendata, how he’s the only character on-screen who ever extended any kind of respect towards him, and how dark this gets later when he brutally murders Blind Rage for being a disrespectful punk. He’s brutally efficient at everything, including compartmentalizing his life and personality to an extent that it doesn’t ring as hypocritical to us when he sits down to give helpful advice to Monarch, and said advice includes him mentioning how he was able to turn his life for the better after slaughtering his arch-nemesis’s entire family with his bare hands. He’s a horrible, horrible villain, and a wonderful dad and mentor and, honestly? Talk about a character who plays perfectly, perfectly into his voice actor’s strengths. Clancy Brown as Red Death is nothing short of magic.

He’s interesting as a Venture Bros character because, as far as we know, he’s completely bereft of the usual petty shortcomings or tragic flaws or pathetic obsessions that define most of them. He is, for all intents and purposes, a genuinely good husband and father devoted to his family, an utmost professional dedicated to the art of villainy and those he respects, and a brutal serial killer with virtually zero hesitations or doubts whatsoever about what he does and likes doing, with a hideous past we know only the barest glimpses of. He coins the term Gentleman Villain because he too, is as perfect an embodiment of those terms as it gets in this world, and he’s fascinating because of it. He works brilliantly at surface-level and whatever little we know about his connection to the historical underbelly of this world is all the more fascinating. He is a wonderful take on a modern version of a Gentleman Villain and everything noble and horrible that this implies. I resent not getting another season or several with this guy.

2: Hank Venture

Probably the character I’ve always found most relatable in the show even before I discovered that, oh yeah, I do have ADHD too, it was a given I was gonna relate to the hyperactive Venture kid known for jumping off the roof in a Batman costume (I mean, my window had bars, and I still swear that I wasn‘t actually gonna jump and my family totally misread what was really just me trying to get on the gargoyle brooding action). As much as I like Gary, Hank is the one that comes to mind when I think of impressive character development in Venture Bros. Hank is interesting because in many ways he just doesn’t change, nowhere near as much as Dean does, Dean’s the one who's matured and is trying to leave all this nonsense behind while Hank’s still actively pursuing the dream of being a boy adventurer. Hank still talks in weird stilted speech, he’s deeply ignorant of a lot of basic things, he still almost gets himself killed pursuing flights of fancy. To say that he has a hard time telling fantasy from reality implies that this is something Hank struggles with, when it’s more accurate to say he just doesn’t care that much about said distinction, and the consequences of his abysmal upbringing, reckless antics, and undiagnosed ADHD as of Season 7, do catch up to him.

But the thing is, all of this is also part of what makes Hank the only character in the show who occasionally gets to thrive. As the seasons passed, he came to display a lot of genuinely inspired moments of competence and skill, not to mention bravery. Hank perseveres so strongly in his stupidity and headstrongness that he’s the only one who’s able to meet the dumb, violent and deluded world of Venture Bros on it’s own terms and come out on top. He’s unique in that he doesn’t outsmart the madness, he out-dumbs the madness. His victories and adventures tend to be more enjoyable to watch than Dean’s or Doc’s or the others as a result (I suspect the creators agree, given Hank is the kind of character that lets them get away with whatever dumb ideas they feel like experimenting with). He’s got a real Lupin III charm to him mixed with a carefree hyperimagination that calls to mind much of what I enjoy about Calvin and Hobbes. He’s a perfect protagonist.

In a world so fraught with failures and miseries and bitterness, and coming off a background just as deeply unfortunate as everyone else’s, Hank perseveres, growing into a genuinely cool kid. He’s made for this life in a way that Doc and Dean never were, and in the absence of a father who cared for him, Hank found role models in Brock and Batman and others, and emulated those until he could be himself the kind of person he’d always wanted to be, an insane hero for an insane world to such an extent that they kind of end up canceling each other out.

I just, I just hope he’s okay, please, please give us the movie already goddamnit

1: THE MONARCH

The perfect Never-Was to Rusty Venture’s Has-Been, pretty much the main reason I stuck with the show for so long even before it got really good, I think The Monarch is just an idea I always, always wanted to see explored in fiction, which is that deeper exploration of a Dick Dastardly-esque type of villain, what does their life look like and so forth. You might be able to tell, given also that my most popular post in this site is about them (and the protagonist of my current project is meant to be that kind of character), that this is an archetype very close to my heart. In truth, Monarch had me won pretty instantly when I first got into Venture Bros as a kid (...in hindsight a pretty terrible era to get into Venture Bros), given all the similarities between him and Waluigi (at the time my favorite character in general). Here’s a character functionally identical to Waluigi, except allowed to actually play a big role in his franchise and have stories told about him and his funny antics and his petty, dastardly dreams and his ridiculous grudge against a nobody hero who couldn’t care less about him. It was like catnip to me at the time.

Monarch carried the show pretty hard in the early seasons along with Brock, as a perfect foil to the hapless and pathetic ventures: An even more hapless and pathetic villain, a dumb goober plucked straight out of a shoddily-made 60s superhero cartoon, all sneers and cackles and nasally-voiced threats of conquest. The kind of parody villain that’s dated even by their time, let alone the modern times the story takes place, the kind of guy that only really gets brought up to get his ass kicked and pushed aside by the real villains (the inclusion of Baron Underbheit in the S1 intro even helps cement the idea that Monarch’s not supposed to be the real villain). A failure in a show about failures, right?

But, see, the thing about Venture Bros is that it isn’t really a show about failure, or at least, just about failure. Even the creators pushed back against this notion back in 2013

Publick: I think you and I are both sick of every interview mentioning the “It’s a show about failure” from five years ago. I don’t think we made a conscious effort to fight that or anything, but every year, we push what we do as writers a little more. An area we hadn’t gone into very much was positivity. I mean, all our victories are still satiric, but there are definitely places where we said, “I want to see these guys do something. I don’t want to just have everything fall on its face all the time.

I don’t think Venture Bros is about failure, as much as it is about “what comes next”, following either failure or victory. It’s a show that’s big on exploring consequences and fallout, part of why every season took so long to air, a show that doesn’t just have the characters fail and that’s that, or has the characters exist in a fixed state as winners or losers, but instead as people who have to carry on living with the accumulating shit that gets thrown at them. What does it take, for these people to carry on, or even succeed. And this is where I think The Monarch’s continued role as protagonist comes into play, because everything about him is in service of that next step, from day one he’s been the character who’s pushed this show forward into the future, opposite the Ventures and Brock who are either trapped in the past or complacent in the present. He’s introduced to us in a mold we all understand from childhood: he’s a dastardly supervillain with a dumb gimmick and enough resources to pester the heroes on a weekly basis, but never enough competence to actually win over them. Okay, and then what? Well, that’s where the ensuing 7 seasons come in.

What happens when he gets what he wants? Does he even know what do with it? What is the source of his immortal hatred? Is there even one? If there isn’t, what else do we know that motivates him? What’s his relation with his henchmen? His partner in crime? His wife? His wife turned partner in crime? What do his enemies look like? What does the rest of the supervillain community think of him? Does he have beef with other heroes? Does he even want to fight other heroes? Just how competent is he outside of that saturday morning cartoon mold where he’s perpetually doomed to fail? If he is, what’s stopping him? How low is he willing to go morally? What disgusts him? What happens when he has to play the hero? And from The Monarch all these rich worldbuilding questions expanded that soon blossomed into many if not most of the best parts of Venture Bros’s worldbuilding.

The show’s not preocuppied with explaining “why” there is a Monarch in practical or psychological real-world terms, so much as it’s interested in the “how” does a character like Monarch function, what does it take for The Monarch to be, and it’s through taking this archetype seriously and exploring him and the world around him that the character grows into a complex and interesting protagonist while remaining, fundamentally, the same saturday-morning-cartoon villain with an inexplicable grudge that he always was. The Monarch was gonna be my favorite from the start anyway but it was his continued presence that really impressed me for the long haul. Not even the only character to experience this, but my favorite to do so.

#replies tag #venture bros #adult swim #hank venture #brock samson #the monarch #dr girlfriend #red death #henchman 21 #sitting here chewing my fingers off waiting for that movie #it's nothing but it's something at least

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asknarashikari · 18 days

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Probably going to be my last ask for a week, going on vacation to Disney World so most likely won't be on tumblr. So let me get this out of the way

Koushiro's base form Vistamp is going to be the Crocodile Vistamp. It's already a pre-made vistamp that fits the aquatic animal theme and has connections to the base vi-stamps of its driver's predecessors, that being reptiles. Along with that, seeing as how it used to belong to Genta, you can also have it be seen as a passing of the torch.

The custom Vistamps I've come up with are Hammer Head Shark (based on Diend instead of Great White because it makes more sense design wise), Bullet Shrimp (either based on Vulcan or Cross-Z, but leaning more towards Cross-Z cause Banjo is a boxer and the Vistamps main fighting style revolves around punches) and Plesiosaur (based on Geiz). Hammer head is currently the only custom Vistamp with a weapon form and buddy form. Unlike the Bullet Shrimp Vistamp (which only has a weapon form with a suit change) and the Plesiosaur Vistamp (which only has a buddy form).

Yoshino's inner phantom is a griffin rather than a dragon like Haruto. That, along with her four elements being Lightning, Ice, Wood, and Metal. The reason why I chose to do this is because I wanted Yoshino's powers to not just be a copy of Haruto's seeing as how at the moment she's not Kamen Rider Wizard, she's only Kamen Rider Circe. (Also, I'd like to imagine that it really doesn't matter as the transformation rings would be interchangeable between Haruto and Yoshino, as all that is needed to use them is a driver and mana). Will she get her own super forms? Yes. Do I know what kind of super form that'll be and what it'll look like? Not a clue but I'll workshop it

I think you'll have to cross out the bit about the Bullet Shrimp being based on Cross-Z... because he has a canon Vistamp, featured in Revice's first Hyper Battle DVD as concept art. It's based on... a chicken.

And it turns Vice into... this.

Given the rest of the Build Rider-themed Vistamps have equally comical effects on Vice, I'm 100% sure George did this on purpose because he dissed him once. I doubt Vale would fare much better, especially if George became a victim of his pranks (unless it turns him into a weapon like Lovekov does for Jeanne- though I can imagine George can be petty enough to still make it look hilarious somehow).

As an aside, George didn't really try to theme the Vistamps after animals related to the specific Riders, or match the Riders with the powers their Vistamps grant. I mean, the Jackal Vistamp turns Vice into a skateboard... but it's themed on Ex-Aid, notoriously known for being clumsy and who would probably faceplant if he got on one.

Frankly I have no idea why George made them that way, seeing as he's supposed to be a Kamen Rider otaku. The only Riders to get a Vistamp that matched their animal theme were Ichigou and Zero-One (both based on grasshoppers).

So yeah, there's really no need to justify what animal and rider themes you give a Vistamp. You can go pretty wild with them.

Other than that I love all these hcs you keep sending me 😊

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cerastes · 3 years

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What do you make of Specter's operator record? Personally I liked it, but that's with the knowledge we're getting more Specter backstory soon.

Ok, so! Just as you pointed out, I went into it with the knowledge that:

We're getting Under TIDES soon.

Specter gets a second Operator Record later, some time after Under TIDES.

And with that in mind, I'm fine with it, but if I was a CN player and all we got was Specter's first Operator Record without any knowledge of the future, I would be pretty pissed, lmao. In fact, CN players were pretty pissed, the reception to her Operator Record was pretty bad. Specter is a popular character both in terms of gameplay and character (the latter more so in China, she gets a steady influx of cosplayers, fanart and fanfic in Weibo, Lofter, and such). It's believed that Hypergryph announced her second Operator Record because of this backlash.

Now, with the context and preamble on the table, I want to say: Great idea, not so great execution. Overall, I enjoyed it, but again, that's only with knowledge of the future. Despite that, I sincerely praise Hypergryph for actually having the balls to try a narrative approach like this one on a mobile game. The thing is, just because an idea is interesting doesn't mean it's good, and I think a lot of aspiring writers and designers need to hammer that in their head, especially armchair game designers that like to theorize oh so much about how cool it would be to have a game that did this or that. I don't care if it's cool or not, is it enjoyable to experience?

And that's just the thing with Specter's Operator Record: It felt lackluster in many regards. The approach was definitely interesting, bold, I'd even say, but that doesn't really matter too much if the result isn't a success, now, does it? Let's immediately address the Originium Slug in the room: Specter doesn't even appear in it. Now, is that an interesting approach to an Operator Record? Sure! Is it good? I don't really think so, especially with a character that fans really have been clamoring to see more of in actual cutscenes, given the wealth of clues they've put regarding Specter in other places:

Blue Poison' Files -> We learn that Blue Poison knew Specter personally before her descent to madness, addressing her with her real name.

Skadi's Dialogue -> Skadi implies that Specter was on a very important mission, and more or less confirms she knew her before she went crazy.

Several pieces of official art -> Specter is associated with the phrase "All seas are singing your name".

Ceobe's Fungimist -> It's implied the cursed painting depicting the end times is the same confusing painting Specter painted in her Token.

Rosmontis' Files -> It's confirmed that Specter's spinal cord is filed to the brim with originium fluid, and the Medical Team theorizes that, just like Rosmontis, her infection was artificially induced. It also confirms that they have no idea how Specter is able to fight such an insanely high level of infection.

So, see, this has been a character that fans have really been clamoring to see again. The only cutscene Specter's ever been is the secret cutscene of Grani and the Knight's Treasure AKA the very first event in the game. Understandably, after two years of the game existing, people were a bit miffed that once again we just get breadcrumbs and a non-participation 'appearance', to say the least, in what's supposed to be her day in the limelight.

Now, personally, I kind of get how they are handling her, and the Operator Records are a very faithful reflection of this: Specter is meant to be this mysterious force that we don't have clearance to know about, as Kal'tsit herself is the only one authorized to treat her or even enter her containment quarters. And, in this regard, I think the Records succeed:

It all starts innocently with Suzuran drawing Specter in a Secret Santa and then having to start deep diving to find out who the hell even IS Specter, because absolutely no one knows of her. Eventually, Suzuran lucks out by asking Meteorite, who did participate in a mission with Specter once, to which Suzuran immediately reacts: "Hey hold on, don't they send you on pretty dangerous missions all the time?", and Meteorite's answer is, "Yeah, and she's right at home there."

Now, this is really interesting because we, as Doctor, have some level of clearance: We know things about Specter and can even converse with her to a certain degree, because Doctor is a high authority in Rhodes Island, but the average Operator, like Suzuran, Aosta and Chiave, doesn't even know of her existence. She's one of Rhodes Island's well kept secrets, even within Rhodes Island. Even Meteorite, a veteran Sarkaz mercenary and a bombardment expert, only knows about Specter in a need-to-know basis (because they deployed once together). More telling is the fact that Meteorite doesn't think she'd get along with Specter, simply based on the fact that, just on that one operation, the level of violence and carnage brought upon by Specter unnerved even her, a Kazdel Sarkaz veteran. Well, to be precise, it's not the sheer level of destruction that Specter is capable of that unnerved Meteorite, it's the fact that she does it all seemingly without a care in the world, expressionless, soundless, simply following orders to the letter without showing or taking in a single emotion. To paraphrase Meteorite, "someone that can unleash such destruction and violence upon others so easily, and that can then just not mind it in the slightest, has something wrong and concerning going on with them, no doubt".

Next up, we also learn that Folinic has very restricted, also on a need-to-know basis access to Specter. Keep in mind that Folinic is extremely competent and not at all a stranger to danger: She handles Phantom. So this is a huge hint: There's perhaps more to the secrecy regarding Specter than just her being a dangerous, unstable element. Folinic could reasonably handle Specter professionally, but it's not about whether she can or not, it's about information, and this brings us back to Grani and the Knight's Treasure: Kal'tsit makes it clear to Skadi that Specter is, as a whole, inaccessible to everyone but her, that only she has clearance to access Specter's quarters. Keep in mind that Skadi does not operate in the same conditions, despite also being an Abyssal Hunter. In fact, it's well known that Skadi is infamous among other Operators for being unreasonable and obstructive in operations, as well as unapproachable outside of them (unless you are Grani, who managed to successfully befriend Skadi and vouches for her). There's things about Specter that are so sensitive, so important, that Kal'tsit can't risk them getting out, and even using her as an Operator is something reserved for very dangerous operations. Not even Warfarin, senior staff and Operator that's been with Rhodes Island for a very long time, has full access to Specter, but she clearly knows the importance of keeping her under curtains, given she immediately diffused the Folinic-Suzuran situation by coming up with a compromise on the spot.

There's another interesting contrast between Files and the Operator Record: Meteorite describes Specter as "dead silent". Mind you, we knew from before, thanks to Specter's Files, that the shark is completely silent in battle, but we also do know that she incoherently rambles quite a lot. Folinic sheds some light onto this, explaining that Specter intentionally stays silent most of the time so as to not say anything that could be misunderstood when around others. When she's in a more private setting, however, she does let loose with the insane talk. This is confirmation of something that had been hinted at before: Even though she's insane, there's a fervent part of her clinging onto sanity for dear life with bloodied, splintered fingers, and it manifests itself in how she'll never harm an ally, and how Specter is, to a certain degree, aware of how far gone she is, and thus keeps her mouth shut around others that aren't Doctor or Kal'tsit, so as to not spook them out or accidentally threaten them with her insane rambling.

Then, at the very end, after Suzuran managed to get her present to her, Specter does in fact deliver a thank you present back to Suzuran: A music box, consistent with Specter's love for the arts. Of course, the gift might have been chosen by a proxy of hers (Skadi or Blue Poison, both known to also enjoy music), but the message is all the same: Specter clearly appreciated the gift, and was mentioned to see an improvement in her condition after receiving the doll Suzuran gave her.

So, in paper? All of this? I love it. Of course I do, she's my favorite character, and it was such a bold way to present her Record, too, I respect them trying out new things, it managed to capture the essence of "the mysterious, terrifying fighting machine Operator they don't want us to know about that's actually a pretty sweet and decent person, just going through some really hard stuff" that they've been going for with Specter, it's just, I can also understand (and agree with) fans because... It's been two years, bwahaha, let us see her again, you know? It's her Operator Record, we've gotten some VERY good insights into the lives and days of other Operators through those, like with Angelina's or Kroos'! Of course we also wanted something like that, bwahaha.

What I would've loved, and what I think would've made it all better with fans, is if the final scene had Specter actually show up in Suzuran's room like the cryptid she is, with Suzuran noting the security door had just sort of been casually pried open, Specter's perpetual smile on her face as she's holding her thank you gift before Warfarin and Folinic just sort of storm into the room like "DUDE, WE SAID YOU CAN'T--", she thanks Suzuran wordlessly, gently hands her the music box, and then she calmly turns back and walks back to her confinement quarters.

But, yeah, I've gone on for long enough. I appreciate it overall, knowing what's coming, and I appreciate the idea, I just think they could've handled it better, but the whole essence and message of it, I think lands pretty nicely.

#beta elekid #long post #arknights #specter

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paranormalglass · 2 years

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top 5 favourite animals!! :D

apologies if this sent twice my wifi sucks :')

ohhh it's so hard to choose!!

5 would be Axolotls!! They're suck goofy lil guys and looking at them feels like looking at a made up creature

just look at this little guy!! The gills are soo pretty especially when they're really long and fluffy! The fluffiness means they're in good health and it also looks soo cool :DD (I AM BIASED HERE BECAUSE I OWN SOME OF THEWSE LIL GUYS)

4 BETTA FISH!! THEY'RE SO PRETTY AND FRILLY AND JUST WOWOWOW Y'KNOW :D

DOn't let their pretty looks fool you!!!! They're really aggressive but that doesn't stop me >:D they looks so so cool!

3 would BE SLoths!! Specifically Pygmy three-toed sloths!! they're just sleepy lil guys and they always looks so peaceful and chill a sloth has the right idea to life

look at him. he is wonderful and lovely. he is smiling directly at you sending you good energy his pure existence is WONDERFUL.

2 Hammer head sharks! they're such goofy looking lil guys! I love all sharks in general but the hammer head takes the cake!

he looks like he wants to sell me vacuums, and you what? I'd buy them. all. sharks in general get a bad rep in pop culture and it's so sad!! Attacks aren't as often as people think D:

ANND NUMBER ONE ISSSS ANT EATERS

HIM. HE IS WONDERFUL AND LOVELY AND I WOULD SACRICFICE IT ALL FO RHIM. THEY LOOK SO FUNKY AND COOL AND THEIR TOUNGES!! WOAH.. AND THEY DO A GOOD SERVICE AND EAT THOSE LITTLE FUCK ASS ANTS

HIS NAME IS LARRY, I HAVE DECIDED.

#^soggy speaks #the moots :>#honourable mention: the corn snake #THE ARE SO CUTE AND SILLY #AND NOT DANGEROUS AND WOWOWOWOW #I WOULD OWN ONE #AND HE WOULD HAVE A LITTLE HAT #SEVERAL ACTUALL #FOR DIFFERENT OCCASIONS #rant over :D #i love these asks cause i get to rant about my dumb interests >:)

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rev-pirate · 3 years

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👀 One Piece AU

Okay so more op au thoughts and rambling.

Originally this answer was be rambling about potential backstories for techno but it got way out of hand so i am saving that for later while i hammer out some of the ideas with @/liloinkoink Instead i will talk about some other character origins what i’ve come up with and what other people have suggested since my last post

Okay so like obvious ones out of the way Ant, Fundy, and Puffy could be minks

I think Punz definitely has bounty hunter energy. No devil fruit power and probably doesn’t want one because he’d like to keep the ability to swim. But is a super skilled top tier fighter who has mastered a lot of like the combat arts and attainable/innate powers that are trainable to unlock. Def becomes a very skilled user of armament haki and makes good use of Shave in particular of the 6 powers.

I think Niki would be fun to have as a fishman. But i’m not sure what kind of fish person yet there are a lot of options. Like literally if it is strictly aquatic and not a mammal than its a candidate. It would also be fun because it offers even more variety to the syndicate as a team (with phil as a sky person and if Techno is a mink or just straight up a pig. Still not sure what to do with Ranboo yet though rip). Also fishmen have a specific martial art called fishman karate (which Can be taught to humans but humans generally lack the innate ability to manipulate water both in the environment and inside living things but the combat style is still a thing). And i would love Niki training arc to get good at fishman karate.

One night In the haze of falling asleep my brain punched me with the funny idea of Skeppy as a dwarf with the diamond devil fruit. Which lets him turn any part of his body into diamond. Now so far the only dwarf tribe we know of is the Tontattas but it’s possible and maybe likely that there is more than one tribe of dwarfs. But we don’t really know that. Regardless, Smol diamond gremlin is so funny

Which leads me to this suggestion

Tommy as a tontatta would be an absolute Menace. That’s such a funny idea. The tontatta are like super gullible and trusting like if you sound insistent enough “oh okay well if you insist it must be true” and Tommy would take advantage of that against his own tribe for sure. And he’d have his raccoon hands all over everyone’s things. He’d absolutely be one of the scouts that goes out and steals “tribute” from the big people.

On the subject of tommy as well regarding like devil fruits as a follow up from my last post about the au. Tommy having a devil fruit that is just some dude adjacent would be good as well. Maybe something only useful in his hands bc of how he uses it or would be useful in anyone else’s hands but his would also suit him. Maybe something that could be trickstery but not practical or just like Highly Specific. Cuz like. Devil fruits are limited only by your creativity in how you use them and i think Tommy could get creative with something largely considered useless in the same way Luffy managed to with his rubber fruit. For example like Tommy with the door fruit would be funny he can just turn anything into a door. There is no barrier of entry for him. Everything can be door.

Also liloinkoink opened my third eye by suggesting mink techno who later gets the bunny fruit. This is a big brained play and i have been enlightened by this suggestion.

Perks of a one piece au is that foolish can be 20ft tall and this is just normal. While liloinkoink and I were brainstorming foolish ideas we started laughing so hard at the idea of Foolish having eaten an artificial faulty SMILE devil fruit and that he just has a fuckin Shark growing out the back of his head. Like i dont think any of the zoan fruits are aquatic but like Please it’s so funny. It’s about the traditional one piece comedic potential. Dsmp really maps into a one piece au so well for this. And i think he could be a mink bc of their innate static electrical abilities but i’m not sure what kind of animal yet. If not the SMILE fruit idea he could also just be a shark fishman. Or even a mink and fishman hybrid could be fun. But if he has a devil fruit (like the lightning logia fruit or something) then he can’t swim even though he is a fish person which lol.

When it comes to Wilbur it really depends on what you want to lean into with him. As Phil’s son he would also be a sky person which gives him little wings it we go that route with Phil. He could have like a music leaning devil fruit. He could also have something more abstract for a devil fruit dealing with charisma. Like there is a character who has a fruit that where she can magically influence/convince/inspire anyone to fight with just her words and a wave of the flag and it gives them like a speed and strength boost among other things. Something like that could be an interesting ability in Wilbur’s hands. He could make interesting use of it.

And since this is getting long and i have to actually do something at work again finally that’s where i’ll end this one

#dsop au #ask box genuinely like always open for this au #SMoP au

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cuteasamuntin · 3 years

Text

WIP Ask Game of Shame

Tagged by @gosh-emperor who loves me and supports my stuff and nonsense even though most of the time we’re working out of totally different fandoms

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it. And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I’ve opted to only list fics with titles, as there are also another two dozen snippets and vague ideas that don’t have a name or extensive notation in my notes folders. If anyone would like to run with any of these ideas or inquire after the untitled works in my notes for possible adaptation, please feel free! All I ask is you tag my AO3 (also CuteAsAMuntin) when you post.

Scrivener Fics Folder:

The Witcher with the Mouth (Spideypool Witcher AU - witcher!Wade)

Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) (Spideypool song fic)

Caged-Up Animal pts. 4-14 & interludes 1-6 (Spideypool chastity plus poly)

The Sorrows of Young Wilson (Peter/Wade/Vanessa tropey a/b/o with nb/trans-secondary-gender Wade)

The New Sufferings of Young WWW (sequel to TSoYW)

Deterrent (Spideypool BDSM AU)

Google Docs Fics Folder:

Postlude: Inamorato (Spideypool, little epilogue to Aftermath)

Hung Like the Pelt of Some Prey (Teratober 2021 Collection)

What If… Venom Possessed Deadpool? (pre-Spideypool)

Mary Jane: Blue (MJ/Peter Parker)

Fics with extensive notes but no document of their own:

Spideypool:

What If… Venompool Fought Spider-Man

Chanukah (Baby Please Come Home) (Wade and Ellie have their first Chanukah with Peter)

The Scarlet Spider (Spideypool Witcher AU - witcher!Peter)

Dust to Dust (dæmon AU)

Nice Jewish Boyfriend (Wade tries to get circumcised for his conversion)

Spidey Meets Pool, Spidey Wants Pool, Spidey Loses Pool, Spidey Gets Pool (exactly what it sounds like)

Memento Mori (every Spider-Person since Peter has Deadpool)

Attack Dog (not a dog fic)

Don’t Ruin This (Peter was trapped in his own head by Doc Ock for months, and Wade never noticed)

Don’t Call It a Team-Up (being totally cool and chill about that crush)

Timelines (Wade gets knocked around the multiverse)

Spider-Man: Home to Roost (MCU!Spidey meets movie!Deadpool)

Free Wade (Free Guy AU - also a Peter/Gwen fic)

The Witcher:

A Matter of Degrees (Yenralt post Geralt being assaulted by Triss)

The Waters of Brokilon (Yenralt with some smut in my feelings)

Rip My Ribcage Open (Yenralt pegging)

A Witcher and a Sorceress Run into a Bard (Geryenskier)

Not My Immortal (Geryenskier inversion of the fandom trope of immortal!Jaskier)

Other:

What If Spider-Man Stayed in Boston? (Peter/Wade/Vanessa)

Dust to Dust: My Name Jeff (Gwenpool meets her dæmon, Jeff the Land Shark)

What If… Lady Deadpool Met Her Heartmate? (Wanda Wilson/Miguel O’Hara - alternate title: In Every Universe)

Festival of Lights (6-7 part series about celebrating various holidays that can be referred to as a “festival of lights” featuring Marvel characters)

What If… Peter and Mary Jane Had Stayed in Portland? (Peter/MJ - alternate title: Ask Your Local Ordained Rabbi)

Imprints (Peter/Wade/Vanessa a/b/o where Peter had a thing for Wade then he and Vanessa imprint on each other)

Hermione Granger and the Pegging of the Scion of Malfoy (Dramione)

Everything Looks Like a Nail (Wade/Weasel, semi follow-up to When All You Have Is a Hammer)

Check Hook (Spideydevil 1920s boxing AU)

It’s Practically Canon: or, How Not to Build a Superhero Polycule (poly Wade, serial monogamist Peter, and their partners)

Captain American Library Association (Stucky librarian AU)

They’re Only in the Southwest, and Other Stuff You Should Know (Runaways fic - Gert starts a podcast)

What If… Gwen Stacy Didn’t Die? (Gwen/Peter/MJ)

The Inherent Eroticism of Loyalty (original fiction about a forgotten deity regaining power)

I am absolutely not tagging FORTY-ONE people, but I will tag some folks whose work and/or blogs I enjoy because I am a NOSY FAN, and anyone else who would like to post this should feel free to consider themself tagged: @full-fledged-cumberbitch, @waterme-stories, @thekenwick, @jackironsides, @umbraastaff, @lazarusemma, @feminine-duck, @battlecries-dear, @herbgerblin, @copperbadge, @mikazure, @icannotreadcursive, @ruffboijuliaburnsides, @deputychairman, @natalieironside, @dandelionslute, @pillage-and-lute, @tsukiwolf42 , @fantasticstoryteller, @traincat, @dycefic, @beforejuko, @lovesbitca8, @themadkatter13, @mscaptainwinchester, @breedlejuice-writes, @gement, @cheermione, @li-izumi, @not-close-to-straight, @sordid-details-following, @lunastories, @dramamineontopofme, @wolfdrawer, @atemy, @albeenocookie, @dropthebeet-ao3, @serpentinhiding

#writing #stuff and nonsense #fanfic #ao3 #the funny thing about this being 41 items is that Caged-Up Animal and Festival of Lights are series with almost 30 fics between them

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kanonsarchivedblog · 3 years

Text

Redemption

Author's Note: What if Mayuri Kurotsuchi died during the Thousand Year Blood War? Who would take over the role of Captain of the Twelfth Division? This is an answer to that in the form a redemption for Urahara Kisuke and the Captaincy that had been wrongly stolen from him.

Word Count: 4,767

Characters: Urahara Kisuke, Hirako Shinji, Kyouraku Shunsui, Shihouin Yoruichi, Otoribashi Roujuurou, Kurotsuchi Mayuri, Akon, Kurotsuchi Nemu

Ship(s): Hirako Shinji/Urahara Kisuke

Setting: Post-Thousand Year Blood War

Warnings: Major Character Death

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You can’t have peace without a war, that’s how the saying goes. It spoke true; the Seireitei, while in shambles, was calm. Peaceful. The sound of hammering in the distance, of laughter and voices calling out to one another. Rebuilding, slowly but surely- with the aid of Shinigami and civilians alike. And the occasional Arrancar. The dead were still being retrieved from the various fields on which battles took place upon. Last time the toll had been released, they were well into the hundreds. A devastating blow to them all- on both sides.

It was difficult; so many young Shinigami had been killed, but so had many young Quincy. Too many, truthfully. Some of their own Captains had been casualties of the war: Head Captain Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto had been one of the first to be slaughtered before their very eyes. Aside from him, the entire first division had been killed- all one hundred and six members, in the very beginning of the war. Following this had been Fourth Division Captain, Retsu Unohana- all for the sake of getting Zaraki Kenpachi to learn the true name of his sword and release his bankai, something that had nearly killed him. Their beloved Thirteenth Division Captain, Jushiro Ukitake had been killed somehow. Very few knew the truth of the matter-

That he had become the new Soul King. That, since birth, he’d been doomed to take over when the time came. A ticking time bomb, of sorts. But to the rest of Soul Society, he’d been another casualty of war.

Many others had nearly died; Captain of the Third Division, Ōtoribashi Rōjūrō, Captain of the Ninth Division, Muguruma Kensei, and both the Captain and Lieutenant of the Tenth Division, Tōshirō Hitsugaya and Rangiku Matsumoto, had all become members of the living dead due to the the Sternritter Giselle Gewelle’s ability. Captain of the Sixth Division, Byakuya Kuchiki, had nearly been slaughtered by the Sternritter Äs Nödt. For all intents and purposes, the Lieutenant of the Third Division was dead, and yet he still walked: Izuru Kira, who lost not just an arm, but a lung and portions of other organs after having a hole shot through his torso. Their new Captain Commander, Kyōraku Shunsui, had lost his left eye and part of his left ear, as well as having a hole shot through his sternum, nearly killing him.

Many others had been injured just as grievously. But that was what war did. It took and it took and it took until there wasn’t anything left to take. War was greedy.

One other had been taken from their ranks. Mayuri Kurotsuchi, the Captain of the Twelfth Division, had been killed during the battle. Details were still coming in, but from what was known, he’d sacrificed himself in the final moments to save his greatest creation, Nemu Kurotsuchi, his artificially created daughter. It seems that even the coldest and most detached of people could, in the end, redeem themselves and save those who they held closest to their hearts. It was certainly interesting to hear.

After all, when Urahara Kisuke had been Captain of the Twelfth, Mayuri had been a right bastard to deal with. He could still remember that day he pulled him out of the Maggot’s Nest, and the following years. How they had worked well together, even if the bickering was nearly constant, as well outright insubordination.

Many would grieve in silence for those that had been lost. The Fourth Division was busy; Isane Kotetsu was now the defacto Captain. She was young, but strong, resilient. She would survive.

Somewhere within the Division sat Rose and Kensei, sharing a room. Izuru Kira had his own room- something that was necessary, given the extent of his injuries. Kuchiki Byakuya was being treated at the Kuchiki Mansion; Kyōraku Shunsui, at the Kyōraku Mansion. Somewhere below them, Aizen sat, chained back up.

Kisuke sat in the bed, studying the way dust danced within the sun’s rays that spilled through his window. He wasn’t injured, not really; Benihime had made sure that her master would be pieced back together completely. All that was left of her work were the thin, surgical stitches that stretched down his face, across his knuckles, over his joints. They didn’t hurt. At least, he didn’t think they did. If there was pain, he was numb to it.

He supposed he owed his thanks to Grimmjow for saving him. He’d thank him later. Right now, the Pantera was hunting for a certain Shark that sat within one of the many, many cells beneath Soul Society. He was accompanied by a Ram and a Wolf.

He could thank Mayuri for saving the Wolf. Coyote Starrk had been a savior. A sharp shooter and a hidden weapon in Hueco Mundo.

There was also Kurosaki Ichigo. That kid deserved all of their thanks, and more. Without him, they’d all be dead. He couldn’t help but wonder where he was, right now. Back home in Karakura Town? Or here, lingering with those he’d fought beside?

Slate hues closed, listening to the hammering and calling. To the sound of laughter and weeping. Of birdsong and creeping silence. He was tired. More so than he’d ever been in his life.

But now was not the time to rest, not with the figure lingering outside of his door. Five minutes, Shinji had been standing there, reaching for the door and dropping his hand, only to reach again. A sigh escaped Kisuke as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Come in, already!” He called, amusement shining in his words.

The door opened, and the blonde made his appearance at last. “Didn’t wanna disturb yer beauty rest, your highness,” he teased, lips quirking up in a crooked smile.

Kisuke could remember the first time he’d seen that smile. “I think I’ve had enough beauty rest to last a lifetime,” as if to prove a point, he stretched his arms up over his head, listening as various bones popped and creaked, as if singing a song of rest. “You aren’t here to give me the latest gossip, are you, Hirako-san?”

A shake of the head. “I wish I were,” Shinji sighed, closing the door behind himself as if that would give them any privacy. It wouldn’t, but it was certainly the thought that counted. “We were called in for an emergency meeting. Y’know how… Bad everything is right now.”

“You’re down three captains, and the new Captain Commander is on mandatory bed rest.” Kisuke answered with a shake of the head. “You’re fucked.”

“And now in the fun way.” Arms crossing over his chest, Shinji grimaced. He was still in pain, too, it seemed.

Not surprising; he’d taken quite the beating as well, from what he’d heard. “I have a question to ask you.”

No, the Soul Society will not get a discount on any products they purchase at the Urahara Shoten.” A joke, though it seemed to fall flat. “... What is it?”

“You know Kurotsuchi-taichou was killed.”

“Yes.”

“They’re without a Captain now.”

Slate hues widened before narrowing, understanding quickly settling in. This was the one thing he had never been prepared for. “Nemu could act as defacto Captain.”

“She can’t. She’s a child again.”

“Of course she is.” Damn Mayrui. “Akon?”

“Doesn’t have a Bankai. Or a Shikai. At least, not one that's on record.”

“Of course he doesn’t. Of course Mayuri would keep all of his underlings under a careful watch and not allow them to progress. Of course he would. He never did think about anyone but himself.” A bitter laugh slipped free, one full of anger and mourning. A scarred hand reached up to rub at pale blonde hair. “What are you asking, Shinji?”

“You know what I’m asking, Kisuke.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

A pause. Shinji sucked on his teeth, lips pressing taunt. “The Captain Commander wants to know if you’ll step in and take over the position of Captain of the Twelfth Division once more.”

A bark of laughter escaped Kisuke as he tossed his head back, baring his throat and chest. He knew this was coming. But to hear it spoken aloud? It made everything suddenly so real. “Central Forty-Six is going to disagree.”

“It’ll be overridden. We’re down three captains and Soul King knows how many Shinigami.” Shinji’s lip curled into a scowl as he shook his head. “We’re fucked.”

“We’re fucked.” Kisuke agreed softly, gaze slipping from Shinji to study the floorboards. “Whose idea was it?”

“It was agreed on immediately that you were the only one who could take over the Twelfth and not accidentally kill everyone.” The humor in Shinji’s tone brought a smile to both of their faces.

“You’re not wrong there.” A pause. “... I have some conditions, then.”

Shinji waved his hands. “Save it for the official meeting. Shun’s calling it in three days time. We’re all to attend, no matter what it takes to get there.” He pushed away from the wall and turned. “I’d love t’stay and all, but I gotta make sure my Division isn’t all dead.”

“You make a good Captain, Shinji.” Kisuke murmured, watching as his back tensed, as his head raised. “You always have.”

“... Get some rest, you ogre.”

The door shut, and he was alone with his thoughts once more.

━━━━━━━

Three Days Later

━━━━━━━

The meeting did not take place within the Captain Commander’s hall. The First Division was still being cleaned of bodies and blood. Instead, it took place within the halls of the Kyōraku Mansion. The grounds were lovely, sprawling, teeming with deer and birds and streams. It was easy to see the wealth and prestige that came with the name.

But it was nothing compared to the Shihōin estate that Kisuke had grown up on.

Speaking of, Yoruichi had joined him. He’d requested she be allowed to attend, and lo and behold, his request had been approved. The past three days, he’d been talking with her and Tessai, deciding on their plan of action.

Now, it would come to fruition.

“I know this isn’t the First Division, but it will have to make do for the time being.” Shunsui spoke, breaking the idle conversation that had been occurring and drawing all attention to him. He wore the Captain Commander’s coat, but beneath was a simple violet yukata- loose fitting to accommodate the bandages that wound around his torso. His head was still bandaged, as well.

No one looked to be in good health. Across from him sat Rose and Kensei, both of who looked uncomfortable. Rose was bandaged around his middle, as well. Kensei’s color was still returning to normal. Behind them stood, or in Kira’s case, sat. Kira didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. He didn’t seem to be paying attention. Hisagi looked ready to pass out at any given moment.

No one else was any better, aside from perhaps Isane Kotetsu. Akon stood behind the empty chair where Mayuri should

have been sitting. Rukia Kuchiki stood behind the empty chair that should have held Ukitake.

“This meeting, while formal, is occurring off the books. We are in a grievous state, and while peace may be here, there is always the chance that it could break at any moment. That is why we are here.” He cleared his throat, brows furrowing. “We are rebuilding, and we have a shaky alliance with both the Quincy and the Arrancar- for now. I do not believe that we are under an immediate threat. However, there are certain items that must be addressed.

“The first of which is the passing of four of our Captains. There will be funerals held for each of them within the coming weeks. They will be open to the public. They will be grand, as is deserving of each.” The finality in Shunsui’s voice left no room for argument. “Captains Yamomoto, Unohana, Kurotsuchi, and Ukitake will be remembered for the rest of time for laying down their lives to save Soul Society, as well as the… Hundreds of others who were lost in battle.”

Hundreds. The word is heavy within the room. Everyone had lost someone in some form, whether it be family, friend, or lover.

“Secondly, it is time to right the errors of our past. This is the reason this meeting is occurring off the books. I plan to contest the banning of Urahara Kisuke and Shihōin Yoruichi personally before Central Forty-Six.” Murmurs drifted through the room. It was one thing to bring up the idea, but another to say that it will be happening. “Which is why they were both invited to attend this meeting.”

Gazes turned, landing on the pair. “Ohayo,” Kisuke hummed, leaning his weight upon Benihime, who was in her sealed form. “I have questions about that.”

“Of course you do,” Sui-Feng muttered, though she remained silent otherwise.

He pointedly ignored the angry little bee. “I was made aware that you all agreed that I should take over my former position that had been ripped from me one hundred and… What was it, twelve? Thirteen, now? Years ago. A title that I had rightly earned before I was condemned for a crime that I did not commit, which we all are aware of now, yes?” A quickly, cursory glance around the room. “I know a few of you here were too young to remember what happened. But let me refresh your memory, shall I? Aizen was working on a way to create Hollows out of Shinigami and chose three of your captains and one of the lieutenants here, now, to test that on, as well as Hiyori Sarugaki, my former Lieutenant, Hachigen Ushoda, formerly of the Fourth Division, and Love Aikawa, former Captain of the Seventh Division.” The words cut like a hot knife through ice, stinging and causing a few to look down or away.

“But some of you were not too young. Some of you remember when it happened, and you did nothing to intervene. So for the last one hundred and thirteen years, I have been living in the World of the Living, aiding the Vizards. Miss Shihōin had been exiled from her own family, even if they did not want to do so. They had no choice. So!” Kisuke clapped his hands together, watching as Isane jumped. Oops. “My condition is that not only we be pardoned of this crime that we did not commit, but that Miss Yoruichi Shihōin also be allowed back within Soul Society. My shop will remain within the World of the Living in Karakura Town. Tessai Tsukabishi, the former Captain of the Kido Corps, who was also wrongly convicted, will also be pardoned. He will remain and run the shop, looking over it and the two Modified Souls whom I created and love as if they were my own children, Ururu and Jinta.

“Those are the conditions upon which I will accept the Captaincy of the Twelfth Division once more. If they are not met, you’ll just have to find someone else who is capable enough to run the Division and understand how Mayuri Kurotsuchi’s mind worked. No offense to Akon or anyone with the Twelfth currently, but I don’t think any of them could actually handle that. After all,” his voice quiets, head dipping, a shadow falling over his eyes. “I was the one who brought Mayuri out of the Maggot’s Nest. Should any of you

forget, I was also the Commander of the Detention Corps, as well as a member of the Onmitsukidō.” Chin raising, slate gaze swept across the room, taking in the silence that had fallen. “I’m not asking for a compensation fund. I’m not asking for a new Division. I’m not asking for a golden parade through the Rukongai. I want an apology. And I want for Central Forty-Six to admit their mistake.”

Silence met him. It was as if no one had expected for Urahara Kisuke to speak out, to give demands. As if he, too, hadn’t been wronged by the events of the past. As if he, too, did not deserve an apology. As if he, too, were not angry and bitter over the mistakes of the past.

“Lest you all forget that without me, you would not have had the Twelfth as it is today. There would be no S.R.D.I.. Mayuri would have died in his cell. And you all would be dead, now, because Kurosaki Ichigo wouldn’t have been born without Isshin Kurosaki, someone who I helped personally. And you would be down four Captains and one lieutenant.” Jaw set, he met Shunsui’s gaze with his own. “These are the requirements. And I will not settle for any less, Captain Commander.”

Shunsui shifted in his seat, a peculiar little smile curling at the corners of his lips. One that read ‘I anticipated this’, or perhaps ‘All is going according to plan’. “Of course, Urahara-san. It will be done.”

“Will it?” Kisuke countered, head titling, voice low. “Just what do you have on the Central Forty-Six that would turn their vote so quickly, Shunsui-san?”

A chill crept into the air as the Captains and Lieutenants sat straighter, stood straighter, cast their gazes down. No one dared speak, no one dared to break the silence that had gripped their throats and held them captive.

“That,” Shunsui began, rising to his feet slowly. “Is for me to know, and for you to never find out. That is all that needed to be said. This meeting is dismissed.” His face was pale; it was beyond time for him to retire. Another session of healing, no doubt.

Kisuke made his way out, Yoruichi at his side. “That was ballsy,” she murmured, gaze trained ahead. “But good.”

“I figured a history lesson was overdue.” Kisuke replied with a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Go, I’m sure no one will mind if you-”

She was already gone.

“-visit your family.” Sighing, he began the slow walk back towards the Gotei Thirteen, gaze downcast. He could hear murmurings from behind him- surprise, shock, anxiety. A presence settled in at his side, shoulder gently bumping against his arm.

“Think it’ll happen?” Shinji asked after a good few minutes of walking in silence.

“He managed to convince them to let Aizen out.” He hummed, head rising to study the horizon. “I don’t know what he has up his sleeves, but… I believe there is a chance I’ll be back to torment you, Hirako-taicho.”

The grin Shinji sent him was brighter than the sun. He couldn’t help but smile, as well.

━━━━━━━

One month later.

━━━━━━━

“I stand before you today to contest a punishment that was given over a century ago,” Shunsui began, gazing up at the blank blocks before him. Behind them sat the members of the Central Forty-Six. “I am aware that I was here merely two months prior. A lot can happen in two months.”

“Like losing hundreds of Shinigami,” one voice spoke up.

“That is the casualty of war, something that you all seem to forget exists outside of your protected lives.” Silence met Shunsui. “We lost four captains. And while there are many who could step up the plate, one of those is impossible to replace.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“That Urahara Kisuke be allowed back into the Soul Society and be allowed to take his mantle of Captain up once again.” Shunsui fell quiet as yells met him. Anger, alarm, it all spilled out.

“URAHARA KISUKE? DESERTER.”

“LIAR, A DANGER TO SOUL SOCIETY.”

“HE’S BEEN IN THE WORLD OF THE LIVING FOR TOO LONG.”

He raised his hands, listening as the voices died down. “I understand your anger. However, merely a few years ago, the Vizards were pardoned. Why should Kisuke not be pardoned, as well as Yoruichi Shihōin and Tessai

Tsukabishi.”

“THEY’RE TRAITORS TO THE SOUL SOCIETY-”

“THEY ABANDONED US YEARS AGO-”

“THEY SHOULD BE KILLED-”

Shunsui raised his hands once more, his brow furrowed. “Maa, maa- please, allow me to speak.” Agitated silence met him as he cleared his throat. “I’m not Yamomoto. I haven’t been here since the beginning. I was just a child when this place was really coming together. But because of that, I have been able to witness the way everything has changed and grown. How we’ve become stronger, how more and more Shinigami join our ranks each year. I was a Captain by the time Urahara Kisuke joined our ranks, stepping out from the shadow of the Onmitsukidō. I was able to watch as he built the Twelfth up from the bottom, and watched as he created the Shinigami Research and Development Institute. Without him, we wouldn’t have the Gigais that allow us to investigate further into the World of the Living, the Tenshintai. What Mayuri had to work with wouldn’t have existed without Kisuke. We wouldn’t have even had a captain to fill his place originally without Kisuke; he was the one who brought Mayuri out of the Maggot’s Nest.

“At the end of the day, you have to sit back and consider more than what those of the past did. At the time, there was no true solid proof that Urahara Kisuke, Yoruichi Shihōin and Tessai Tsukabishi were behind the hollowfication project that was, in actuality, spearheaded by Aizen. Their only crime had been being at the scene, trying to help their friends. When you consider this, along with how they have continued to aid us despite being stranded in the World of the Living for so long… Don’t we owe them this?” Murmurs began to echo through the tall chamber. Forty-six voices all talking, debating. Shunsui stood, hands folded politely before him as he waited.

He was right, and he knew it. After all, it had been his idea in the first place. Without Kisuke’s aid, they wouldn’t have ever had Kurosaki Ichigo to help them. Aizen would never have been stopped. Yhawch would still be alive, and they would all be dead or acting as prisoners. There wasn’t any real debate to be had other than stubborn old men wanting to keep history as it is.

“So, I ask once more: I wish for Urahara Kisuke to be allowed back into the Soul Society and be allowed to take his mantle of Captain of the Twelfth Division and Captain of the S.R.D.I. up once again as well as pardoning Urahara Kisuke, Yoruichi Shihōin and Tessai Tsukabishi of their wrongly accused crimes.”

Silence settled across the chamber. A pleased smile curled Shunsui’s lips as he relaxed.

━━━━━━━

Two weeks later.

━━━━━━━

The First Division was peaceful, calm, filled with idle chatter as the Captains and their Lieutenants gathered within the hall of the Captain Commander. There was no surprise written upon their features; they knew what this meeting was about. Even so, they stood, chatting amongst one another, until Shunsui made his way into the hall to settle in at the head of the hall. He used a heavy, cherry wood cane to aid him; it would not be a permanent fixture. Each day he grew stronger, healing from his injuries.

“Well, then,” he murmured, rolling his shoulders before raising the voice. “Would the new Captain of the Twelfth Division enter?”

The great doors opened, and standing within the entryway was none other than Urahara Kisuke, green and white striped hat nowhere to be seen. He no longer resembled the young, awkward Captain he had been one hundred and thirteen years ago. Now, he stood tall, still, gaze trained forward. He made his way in slowly, geta clad feet making soft ‘clacks’ with every step. Behind him, surprisingly, walked a black feline, trotting to keep up. He turned to the left, and stepped into the place where he’d once stood, where Mayuri had once stood.

“Very well. Now, since we are all here, our first manner of business…”

The meeting did not last long; many were still in frail condition, such as the Third Division. The walk to the Twelfth was quiet, calm. Yoruichi had slipped away, returning to her family for the first time in far too

long. She wouldn’t be taking up the mantle of Head of the Shihōin family; that title had passed to her younger brother. Instead, she’d become an aid to him, and split her time between the Soul Society and the World of the Living. Tessai didn’t want to return; he had no desire to come back. He’d handle the shop and keep an eye on Karakura, along with Jinta and Ururu.

Kisuke was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of a throat clearing. Head snapping up, slate gaze hues widening at the sight of his new lieutenant. “The last time I saw you, you were extremely little and didn’t have a nicotine addiction!” Kisuke greeted with a grin as Akon let out a bark of laughter.

“It’s good to see you again, too, Captain,” Akon replied, shaking his head as he fell into step beside Kisuke. “A lot’s changed.”

“I’d be more alarmed if nothing had changed. It has been over a century, after all!” His head tilts back, studying the sky. “It feels strange to be here again.”

“It does.” The sound of a little voice calling had both men pausing, glancing behind them, only to watch as a little black haired girl came bouncing over, nearly stumbling over her sandals. Nemu. Akon knelt down, arms open, allowing the girl to climb up into his arms. “Nemu, meet Urahara Kisuke. He’s taking over as Captain.”

“I remember him. Where’s your hat?” She asked, big dark eyes gazing up at Kisuke.

“Decided that it wouldn’t be appropriate to wear at a meeting,” he winked, and with a wave of his hand, it was as if the hat appeared out of thin air. Nemu’s eyes widened in surprise, mouth dropping open into a little ‘o’. “But I never wander too far without it.” Gaze turning, he took in the sight of the Division, how much it had changed, how large it had become. “Well…”

“Wherever you want to begin, I’ll guide you to it.”

A grimace. “Notes? Or did he burn them all again?”

“Surprisingly, he didn’t.” A shrug as Akon began to walk once more, carrying Nemu as if she were his own. Members of the Twelfth stopped where they stood and bowed low, murmurs of welcome echoing through the air. “I don’t think he had the foresight to do that.”

“Good,” Kisuke nodded, clapping his hands together. “Then let's get to work.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

━━━━━━━

That Night

━━━━━━━

The night air was cool here compared to the warm autumn air of Karakura Town. Geta clopped along the top of the wall idly with no true direction. That is, until the sound of a snicker drew the attention of the shoe’s owner. Head tilting, Kisuke glanced behind himself to find Hirako Shinji standing behind him.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Haunted by the past.” Kisuke replied, settling down on the wall. Was he in Shinji’s Division? He hadn’t realized he’d walked that far. “You?”

“Insomnia’s a bitch.” Shinji settled down on the wall, kicking his heels against the sturdy structure idly. “... It feels good to have you back.”

“Does it?” He mused, stepping closer before settling down, shoulder bumping Shinji’s before leaning against the other. “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“Fuck off,” Shinji teased, leaning his weight back against Kisuke’s shoulder. Together they sat, silence falling across them like a light dew in the early morning hours. Without speaking, Shinji reached over, taking hold of Kisuke’s hand. Calloused fingers drifted over stitched scars. “She did a number on you.”

“Benihime is a benevolent woman. I respect that,” Kisuke replied softly, watching Shinji’s fingers. “What about you? How’s your head?”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Touche.”

A chuckle slipped free from both men. Kisuke sighed, leaning over to rest his head atop Shinji’s own. “This is what you missed?”

“This and more.”

“It doesn’t feel right without Hiyori yelling at us. Or Love laughing. Or Hachi worrying…” Brows furrowing, he sighed. “But they like it in the World of the Living.”

curled Shinji’s lips as he pulled Kisuke’s hand up to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to his knuckles. “Some of it will be, Captain.”

#m's scribbles #bleach fanfiction #kisuke urahara #shinji hirako #shinji/kisuke #yoruichi shihouin #shunsui kyoraku #akon #rip mayuri but kisuke's different

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arachniss · 4 years

Text

Horrormovie Night

Fluff, fluff, more fluff and some sweet talking towards baby Tamaki uwu

Prompt; Watching horror movies together

Arachniss Fall Event Masterlist

Tamaki did not like Halloween season, not much when he had to see such scary things at the markets.

Like right now, Halloween themed music played loudly from speakers as he walked around.

He didn't dislike everything about the Holiday, just the scary things like the masks and the haunted houses.

And everyone filling the small building with loud noises, mostly little kids who would scream and laugh as they begged their parents for candy and costumes.

He really didn't want to be there.

Seriously, he considered leaving six times already. Just abandoning the candy bags in his arms and giving up his search.

But he was hoping to spend the night with you, eating overpriced candy and watching horror movies, one of which you had said he could choose.

He went for the only horror movie he's ever seen that has never scared him, especially since it had to do with sea life and it looked so fake.

Turning a corner, he jumped when he heard a screech behind him, ears slightly drooping as he found the round container full of movies and almost cried when he saw what he was searching for all the way on the top.

As if calling for him.

Or mocking him, he wasn't sure.

Quick to pay, he noticed your favorite chocolate bar in full size and asked for it, taking his things and practically sprinting out of the grocery store.

—

“Oh! Tamaki, just in time! I made some popcorn so we can eat that, too!” He immediately smiled at the sight of you when you opened the door to your room, eyes showing your excitement and wide smile on your face.

You were wearing pajamas, a simple t-shirt of his that was big on you and a pair of shorts that went a bit above your knee.

Quickly, you let him in and shut the door behind him.

“What movie did you get?” You asked, sitting down on your bed and turning on your laptop, his eyes averting immediately as he answered from his spot in front of the door.

“..Jaws.”

“Ooo! Perfect, haven’t watched it in a while!”

He seemed to relax at your acceptance, placing the paper bag in his arms on your bed and sitting down next to you without being too close.

You haven’t been dating for long, a few months now, and the boy had no idea exactly how comfortable you were with him.

Once comfortable, he handed you the movie and you placed it in your laptop’s slot.

The movie immediately started, a quiet excited giggle leaving you as you snuggled up into his right side and pulled open the candy bag, the sweets spilling all over your sheets.

The movie began, the shark coming on screen and you almost immediately began stuffing your face with candy.

—

You booed, rolling your eyes at the horrible ending and flopping backwards onto your fluffy pillow with a pout on your face.

Tamaki had to admit that you looked adorable with that look on your face, hesitantly opening his mouth to speak, “That was kinda.. Bad..”

You laughed at how he said it, hesitant and as if to avoid sounding as if he thought it was boring, a hand running through your hair as you laid there.

“It was really bad! The shark looks so fake!”

He smiled a bit, looking down at your intertwined fingers and gently squeezing your hand. You had grabbed his hand in the middle of the movie, simply holding it as the movie progressed.

“Next movie!” You exclaim, going onto Netflix and straight to the horror movie section, “You okay with Child’s Play? I’ve heard it’s as fake as Jaws.”

“Um.. Okay.” He whispered, curling up against you so he was more comfortable, his slanted eyes focused on the cute smile you give him.

“If I get scared, I’ll hold onto you, okay?” You commented, your body warm against him as he flushed, eyes widening slightly.

He didn’t think you’d do it but the thought of a person depending on him, an anxious and flustered mess, made him feel a bit better.

The movie started, Charles Lee Ray running through the streets showing up and you once again began to stuff your face with food, popcorn this time.

—

He was wrong. There were a few moments where you did jump and clung to him, his eyes widening at the fact that you trusted him enough to hide your face into his side.

Maybe he was being overdramatic, anyone else would have simply shrugged and kept watching the movie, but he couldn’t help himself.

It was amazing, the feeling of you hiding from something behind him, even if it’s just a simple movie.

The movie was almost over, Andy shutting the door in his home to hide from the killer doll before running to his mom’s room had you sitting up.

You weren’t as jumpy anymore, having been freaked out in the beginning.

He wasn’t going to lie, the damn doll was creepy and he was trembling a bit as the anxiety started creeping up on him.

Your room was dark, it was a bit late now and none of your classmates seemed to be awake by how quiet the halls were.

You sighed as the movie ended, grumbling that it looked fake and that they added an uncalled for amount of blood, falling backwards onto your pillow with Tamaki´s arm still in your grip.

The position was uncomfortable for him, his arm at an odd angle against your chest.

He felt as if he’d upset you, though, if he mentioned it.

A grunt left your sprawled form, your grip on his arm loosening as you went to turn on your side, your head resting against his shoulder.

“You could’ve told me it was uncomfortable for you, bunny. I would’ve gotten into this position instead.”

“Sorry..”

The smile on your face worked at relaxing his tense body immediately, your words encouragement for him to interlock fingers with you.

“No need to apologize.”

He began searching for something else to watch, hopefully faker than the previous one in hopes of being able to be more comfortable in the dark room.

“How’s Goosebumps sound, bunny?” He mumbles, faintly feeling you nod against his arm, “Okay,”

Another two hours went by, your boyfriend popping the occasional chocolate or cookie in his mouth as he watched The Haunted Mask play, the episode coming to a cliffhanger.

Your cheek was pressed against his shoulder, still, your focus on the tv.

He had thought you were falling asleep until he heard your voice, his body jolting at the words.

“Can you stay the night? That movie kinda made me feel a bit paranoid now..”

The teachers would scold the both of you if he were to stay, but he didn’t really acknowledge it much.

Instead, he turned so he was on his side and wrapped his arms around you, letting you bury your face into the crook of his neck, instead.

Red faced, he gently pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head, immediately shoving his face into your hair.

You pouted, reaching up to play with his hair as he hid his cute face from you.

“Tamaki! You can’t just do that and expect me to let it go!”

“Good night..”

“Eh!? Good night!?”

He didn’t answer, the pout still on your face as you struggled to move your head away from his.

It took a few tries but he let you grab his face eventually, his lips trembling and face still bright red.

“You’re amazing and adorable.” You state, noticing immediately how his eyes widened at your praise, “And I love you, Tamaki. And your adorable shyness.”

A quick kiss had his heart hammering against his rib cage, your words making him start to tear up.

The last thing he wanted was for you to see him crying because of three words, his eyes gawking at you because you looked so serious.

You loved him.

Anxious Tamaki Amajiki.

Face-the-wall-when-faced-with-negative-emotions Tamaki Amajiki.

Blushing mess and tearing up when told he’s loved Tamaki Amajiki.

He was shaking uncontrollably as he stared at you, hearts in his eyes as he struggled to respond.

“Tamababy, you don’t have to say it back.”

His brows furrowed, voice coming out quiet.

“I-I love you, t-too, (Y-N).”

#amajiki x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #suneater #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki bnha #mha tamaki #amajiki bnha

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crashdevlin · 4 years

Text

Jump The Shark

Author’s Note: This is part nineteen of The Best Laid Plans series

Summary: When John gets a call from the youngest son he never got to meet, Y/n goes with him to find out what happened to the one-night stand John had back in 1990.

Pairing: Alpha!John x Omega!Reader

Word count: 3597

Story Warnings: angst...A/B/O dynamics, canon divergence, angst, mentions of physical violence, mentions of mindfuckery, mentions of ferality, pining, did I mention angst?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hadn't said anything. Not from the moment you and John found the truck. You climbed up into the cab and changed into jeans, a black and green plaid flannel and a pair of hiking boots. You dropped your suit skirt and blouse out the window going 80 down the interstate, and then you closed your eyes and listened to the Rolling Stones.

You had to open your eyes when your memories started attacking you.

Dean had been so sure that you were the one he wanted, the one he was looking for...but that was Dean Smith and Y/n Colt. That was a Stanford MBA and a former Miss Teen USA runner-up. The idea that he wanted to mark you was particularly hurtful and you were kinda glad you made him wait because you weren't sure if it would have reset like the first mark Sam gave you and the last thing you wanted was for Dean to be tethered to you when he could barely stand to be around you.

He only wanted you because he was someone else. He was someone else, but his soul was still stuck on you. You both felt that pull because you were connected but he didn't want you. Smith liked Colt, but Winchester would never love Y/l/n.

John just drove. It was obvious he had no destination in mind, he just pointed the truck West and drove. Part of you wished that he would go back to Mississippi but you knew that your semi-normal was gone...and it was better. You were a hunter and so were your alphas. No normal for you.

"It hit her hard, Sammy," you heard John whispering as he drove when you woke up a few hours into Missouri. "She hasn’t been that close with your brother in years and the fact that it was all fake is killing her."

A pang of sadness hit you as your brain called forth what John was talking about. The haze of sleep had taken the memory, but now it was clear why your heart felt like so many broken pieces shoved into a box in your chest.

"Yeah, we know that but he won't say it and she probably wouldn't be able to hear it now anyway." John sighed as Sam spoke through the phone. "Son, I don't know what we can do other than what we always do. If you need help, just call, but she definitely doesn't need to be around your brother for a while. All right. Keep me updated," John said before setting his phone on the dashboard. "I know you’re awake, 'mega. Can't fool me."

"Wasn't trying to fool you. Just letting you finish your conversation," you responded, sitting up and stretching as best as you could in the truck cab. "What'd Sam want?"

"Tell me that the whole deal in Cincinnati was the Angels fucking with us. Specifically fucking with Dean. They wanted to prove to him that he was always supposed to be a Hunter or something."

"And we just got pulled along for the ride? That was nice of them." You rolled your eyes and reached down for your purse, pulling out a travel mouthwash. "So, what, everything's dandy now?" you asked as you took a drink of the mint liquid, swished it around in your mouth and swallowed.

"You know, you're supposed to spit that out, right?"

"Only quitters spit," you said automatically. You ran your hand across your face as you dropped the bottle to the floorboard. Dirty jokes Dean told you as a teen were not what you needed to get out of your funk. “I’ve put worse things in my body.”

“Girl, we...we’ll get through this.”

“Not like we have a lot of options, right?” You licked your lips and shook your head. “I’m fine, John. I slept. I’m better. I’m fine.”

“When are you gonna learn that it’s useless to lie to me?” John asked.

“I’m sure it’ll sink in eventually,” you responded, chuckling. “I promise...I’m going to be fine.”

“I know you will,” John said, reaching over to pat your knee.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks passed and you were getting better at putting it behind you. The might’ve-beens dragged up by the Angels in Cincinnati were slowly being pushed back into the recesses of your mind and you were feeling better. Sam emailed John to tell him about some jerk in Ohio writing books about the boys’ lives, someone Castiel revealed to be a Prophet of the Lord who was writing The Winchester Gospels. There were books about the boys’ lives, their actions, their innermost thoughts, just hanging out on bookshelves around the world. You wondered if you were in any of the stories, the gospels.

John’s secondary cell phone went off as you pulled the truck into the parking lot of a coffee shop and he frowned as he looked down at the screen before he answered, “Hello?” A beat of time as you parked the truck and turned to him. “He’s not available. Can I help you?” He had a severe look on his face and you shook your head at him, confused by his reaction to the call. “What’d you say your name was? Milligan...and, uh, what are you callin’ John for?”

He made a fist and hammered it into his forehead. “Right, well, uh, I hate to have to tell you this over the phone but John is dead. He died in 2001.” Your eyes went wide and John put a finger up to quiet you before you could even start to question. “If you need help, then I can meet with you, kid. I’m, uh, John Winchester’s son, Dean. Windom, Minnesota. Cousin Oliver Café. We’ll be there tomorrow at 8am. See ya then, kid.”

“What the fuck, John?!” you exclaimed when he ended the call.

“Fuck.” He scratches his fingernails across his forehead and sighs as he sets the phone on the dash. “I recognized the area code, knew it was Missouri, thought it might have something to do with...with this case I had around January 1990. Anybody I interacted with back then, they would’ve known me before I got hit with that hex. So, that’s why I answered the phone like that and I’m glad I did because...because the kid on the other end of the phone is…” He trailed off and you gave him a pointed look.

“The kid on the other end of the phone is what?”

“My youngest son, Adam.”

Your eyes went wide, confusion and anger filling your body. “Your what?”

“I told you...I told you that I had one dalliance before you after Mary died, remember? When I was on that ghoul hunt and I went into rut and I-I was almost feral and I had one night where I couldn’t fuckin’ control myself and-”

“You knocked her up with pups?” you whispered. For some reason, it hurt a lot more than it should, especially considering you were only seven years old at the time.

“Only one. Adam.” He shook his head at himself. “She never told me. I didn’t know anything about it until 2001...and by then…by the time Adam called the first time, I was a young man again. I couldn’t show up looking like a twenty-five year old and start a relationship with the boy. So I just never called him back, kinda put him on the back burner. I figured I’d go see him when we found the witch and fixed me but I never found the witch and-”

“So, why’s he calling again now?” you asked, trying to be understanding. It wasn’t John’s fault. He should have told you. He should have told his other sons, but he couldn’t do anything about it now.

“His mom, Kate, is missing.”

“And he called you because?” you asked.

“Because the cops aren’t worried and his mom told him to try to get a hold of me if anything weird ever happened. She knew about the hunting.”

“So, your plan is to...pretend to be your oldest son and go meet your youngest son for the first time and try to find his missing mother...who most probably is just normal-missing, not supernatural-missing?” you asked, cautious of your tone.

“I can drop you somewhere if you don’t wanna participate in this, girl,” he said, biting his bottom lip.

“No,” you responded vehemently. “You don’t get to leave me behind, Winchester. Not ever again, remember?”

“Okay, then I’m gonna need you to back me on this and you’re going to have to call me ‘Dean’.”

You nodded. “I can do that.” You weren’t sure you wanted to, but you’d do it for him.

“Thank you, darlin’.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John was nervous. You could smell it in his scent. You leaned into his shoulder as you sat in the booth, trying to calm him with your own scent. You kept your head on his shoulder as he switched a glass of water out with a glass of holy water and set a trio of silverware on the opposite side of the table. “Just in case.”

“You really think-”

“I looked into him, ya know? Kid did real good without me in his life,” John said suddenly. “He’s real and he’s smart and he never had anything to do with this life. I’m scared it bled onto him anyway.”

You sighed and leaned up to press a kiss to his temple as the door opened and a tall, thin young man walked into the diner. He looked like a mix of Sam and Dean. “That’s him,” you whispered, recognizing him from the Facebook profile.

John, or rather ‘Dean’, stood and waved at the boy.

“Dean?” Adam asked, walking over. John nodded. The boy laughed. “Wow, you look just like the picture my mom had of-of John. You’re almost the spitting image of him.” He let out a scoff as he sat down, his eyes moving to you. “Who’s this?”

“My omega,” John said, a bit defensively.

“Y/n,” you said, offering your hand to him.

Adam took it with a smile. “Wow.”

You felt a cringe move through your body and you looked down. “What?”

“I just…” Adam cleared his throat. “There’s not a lot of omegas in Windom and none are as pretty as you.”

Another Winchester flirting with you was sending all sorts of bad signals through your body. You softly tugged your hand back and sat back down as Adam settled into the opposite side of the booth and picked up the water. You held your breath when he took a drink but the water went down easy so you relaxed a bit.

But not much.

He smelled wrong. John was lavender and orange and ylang ylang, Dean was lavender and honeysuckle and anise, Sam was vanilla and coffee and undercurrents of honeysuckle when he was in rut. Adam smelled like dirt.

Not grass and forest and mossy logs, dirt. Just dirt. He didn’t even have a secondary scent to him, no undercurrent or complementary smell. Just dirt.

There should have been some part of him that smelled like a Winchester, even if he wasn’t the same makeup of a Winchester as the ones you knew. He shouldn’t smell like that.

Adam didn’t seem to notice your musing or your deep breaths to try and find something else in his scent. He went off on a tangent as he ate his breakfast about how John and Kate met in the emergency room at the hospital room where she works and he went into rut after he got hurt and Adam tried to get a hold of John when he was a kid and John just never picked up the phone and he’s glad that ‘Dean’ answered the phone this time.

“At least I know why he didn’t answer when I was calling before. So, uh, what happened to John?”

“Heart attack,” John responded. “It was sudden.”

“Right, guess that makes sense. Heart disease is the number one killer of men his age in the US,” Adam said.

Your eyes focused on the silverware in the man’s fists. Not a shifter either then. But this was something. This was not a Winchester.

“Well, after we get done eating, why don’t you take us to the house and we’ll see if we can’t find something to tell us where your mom got to,” John offered.

“Thanks, Dean,” Adam said with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"He didn't react to silver or holy water," John argued as he followed Adam's car down the road.

"So? There's plenty of things that can alter people's perception of them that don't react to silver or holy water! Rakshasas, sirens, djinns, ghouls, do I need to go on?" you argued back. "He smells like dirt, John. That is not-"

"Maybe that's just-"

"What'd his mother smell like?" you interrupted.

"Passion fruit...and something else I can't remember."

"Not dirt. He shouldn't smell like that. He's not your son."

John sighed and scratched at his chin. "You might be right. He should smell more like one of us. He doesn't even smell like an alpha, honestly, but...if he's not Adam, then where the hell is Adam? And where's Kate? And why the fuck would whatever he is try to get me out here?"

"I don't know."

"Me either. For now, let's focus on finding Kate and we'll go from there." You held in a groan and focused out the windshield. "I know, 'mega. I'm just...I got this feeling...I lost my opportunity to be a part of this boy's life because of that witch."

"And that’s terrible, John...but you wouldn't have me if it wasn't for that witch so…"

“I’m not sayin’ I regret it, sweetheart, I just...wish I could have...met him once before I went after that bitch.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, biting your thumbnail. “Sometimes I wish things were different, too.”

“You wish I never came over when you were going into that first heat,” he guessed.

You swallowed, but you didn’t answer. The truth was, you had thought through a lot of different wishes and butterfly-effect ripples of how it would change everything. If John didn’t show up, you wouldn’t be a hunter. If Dean hadn’t pushed you to let Sam take you when those apple-pie assholes put you in heat, you would have just been Dean’s. If you never sold your soul for Dean, you might have been able to move on, find another alpha...a non-Winchester.

“I don't think I'd be myself if you hadn't shown up,” you answered eventually. “I'd have stayed stuck at Bobby's, never ended up with an alpha let alone two, and I would be dying from never getting a knot in a few years' time...it’s better you did.”

"I'm...glad I did, Y/n. I like the woman you are, the strong and beautiful omega you are.”

You smiled and your cheeks heated up at the praise. “Let’s just get this done, huh?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t exactly happy that you were the one who had to crawl through the vents but Adam said, and John fucking agreed, that you were smallest and therefor the best choice. When you found the blood and pieces of skull and blond hair, you were happy to be small enough to pull your phone out of your pocket and text the news to John so he could break the news before you crawled back out.

“Call the cops. We gotta get out of here, though,” John said as he offered you a hand to help you up out of the vent.

“Wait, but-” Adam started to argue.

“We don’t mix with cops,” you responded, before stomping away from them, roughly brushing dust off of your jeans and shirt. “Come on, J-Dean. Let’s get out of here.”

“You don’t mix with-” Adam started to argue, but you pushed past him and stomped out to John’s truck.

“There was no surprise in his scent. There was no anger or sadness. I’ve lost both parents, John, there should have been-”

“Maybe he’s numb or-”

“Maybe he’s made of dirt or something!” you snapped. “That is not-”

“He hasn’t done anything wrong yet, ‘mega.”

You shook your head. “Yeah. Yet. You know what, John? I’m gonna go ahead and look into things that could be pretending to be your illegitimate pup.”

You barely looked at him as you got out of the truck and headed inside to start researching. When Adam showed up to find out what was going on with his missing mother and you and ‘Dean’ leaving before the cops showed up and “what the hell?!” John decided to explain about hunting as simply as he could. He didn’t explain who he really was, though. And then John decided to take Adam to explore other options of finding Kate.

It was a couple hours later that you came across a mention in an online lore forum that said ghouls, while normally scavengers who feast on dead flesh, could actually eat living specimens and have been shown to greatly enjoy fresh human meat and blood...and just like feasting on the dead, the ghoul can take the visage of their victim and their memories.

“Didn’t John say that’s what he was after when he was here before?” you whispered to yourself as you picked up your cell phone and dialed John’s number. It rang through until it went to voicemail. You called again. It went to voicemail again.

Panic fell over you. Your alpha was in trouble. Your alpha was in trouble and you had no idea where he was.

“Fuck!” You were almost shaking as you stood up and looked around aimlessly. What could you do? Another string of expletives fell from your mouth before you forced yourself to focus. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. Your soul was connected to him. You needed to find him.

It only took a flash. A flash of the dining room at Kate’s house, John tied to the table had you grabbing the keys to John’s truck and rushing for your alpha. You pushed that truck as fast as it would go to get it to the house on the outskirts of Windom. The truck tires screeched as you slid to a stop in the front yard. You grabbed your shotgun from the rack in the truck bed and ran into the house.

John was tied to the table, ‘Adam’ and ‘Kate’ standing over him as he bled from his wrists. “Y/n,” he groaned. “They’re ghouls!”

“I know!” you snapped, aiming at Adam’s head and shooting. Parts of his head exploded onto the wall behind him and Kate shrieked before running at you. You moved to pump the shotgun for a second shot, but Kate grabbed you and tossed you into the wall like you were nothing.

“Y/n!”

“I’m fine, John!” you shouted, rolling onto your hands and knees.

“John?” Kate spat out, her tone dripping with poison.

“Forgot to mention before you started draining me,” John groaned. “I’m the one who killed your daddy, sweetheart.”

“Witches are better than plastic surgery, bitch,” you said, sweeping the woman’s leg with your foot. She fell to the floor and you jumped up, grabbing the shotgun and shooting her in the head, too. You licked your lips and panted as you limped over to the table and pulled out a knife, getting him loose from his binds. “You okay?” you asked, grabbing a rag and ripping it in half, wrapping each half around his wounds.

“Yeah. You...you got here in time.” He sat up, his legs hanging off the table as you secured the wraps around his wrists. “How’d you know?”

“I figured out ghouls could eat fresh and then I couldn’t get you on the phone and...I…” You licked your lips. “I knew where to find you.”

“How?” he pressed.

“How’d you know what motel room I was cutting Sam’s mark off of me?” you asked in answer.

“You felt it?” he asked and you nodded. He reached out, barely wincing at the pull on his wrist, and pulled you in for a soft, sad kiss. “They were siblings, kids of the ghoul I took down last time I was in Windom. They called to get revenge for me killing their dad.” He looked away. “Killed Kate and Adam to get revenge first. I was hoping I wasn’t right about my life bleeding on his.”

“It’s not your fault, John,” you whispered.

He shook his head. “I know. Shoulda stuck around to see if the thing left behind little monsters for me to kill, but...I went into rut...and then I had to get back to the boys.”

“John...it’s really not on you.”

“He’s dead because of me.”

“He was alive because of you,” you insisted. “He had nineteen years before these things...he had nineteen years because of you. Please, don’t let this get to you.” You chuckled, ruefully. “I’m the one that’s supposed to be barely floating in an ocean of shit. You’re supposed to be my life raft.”

He smiled and nodded. “I am. I am your life raft, darlin’. Just...a little blood-deprived right now. I’ll perk up after a glass of O.J. and some protein. Come on. Let’s get outta here.”

You nodded and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, helping him off of the table and walking him out to the truck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#cassie writes stuff #spn fanfic #reader-insert #a/b/o dynamics #alpha!john #omega!reader #john x reader

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star-spangledstud · 5 years

Text

PARADISE

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The Avengers enjoy a hard-earned vacation.

Word Count: 3700-ish

Warnings: Fluff (None)

Blistering heat. Skin sticky from several layers of coconut-scented sunblock with built-in self-tanner, causing a dewy glow to set upon your bronzed, heated skin. A bright pink cocktail stood beside the tanning bed you were laying on, a slice of fresh lime and a tiny blue umbrella hanging off the side of the glass. Drops of condensation made their way down the length of the fishbowl shaped glass, collecting on the palm tree coaster it sat on. You sipped it every minute or so through a neon yellow plastic straw, allowing the icy drink to cool you down while the alcohol warmed the back of your throat as it went down.

You turned the page of your romance novel, green doe eyes covered by large black sunglasses following along the words written on the tattered paper. A glance up from your book to the pool area in front of you revealed toned bodies in brightly colored swimming trunks and skimpy bikinis sprawled everywhere. Natasha sat beside you on Wanda's sunbed. She'd braided her hair and was busy putting flowers in it. Fake daisies by the looks of it, made of cloth with little plastic stems. You smiled and took another sip, savoring the sour taste and slushy texture and took a mental note to order the same thing over dinner later. Then, you turned back to your book.

Steve loved summer. Perhaps it was the stark contrast provided by the sun's rays to the ice he was trapped in for so long or the scent of nature in bloom all around him that sparked his admiration for the season. He wasn't sure. All he knew is that he enjoyed the blistering heat and the breeze carrying the scent of fresh flowers across the resort.

His skin had become wrinkly from spending hours on end in the pool with the guys, but he was finally starting to win the game of volleyball against Sam and Thor, and Captain America did not like to lose. He'd tried to convince Tony and Bruce to join them but they were sitting in the shade, stacks of paper and two laptops covering the sunbeds around them. You smiled and shook your head at them, but didn't comment on their constant need to work, even though it was Tony's idea to take everyone away for a two-week paid trip to paradise in the first place. Maybe he just really loved showing off his money. You didn't care, because you were sipping on your fourth free cocktail.

Your eyes drifted back to the water glistening beneath the rays of the sun, to Steve, who was laughing so hard at something Peter said his hand went to his chest.

Steve felt your eyes on him as soon as you lowered your sunglasses to the bridge of your nose so you could watch him lose the game. He held his hand up to the guys, motioning for them to continue without him. Peter begged him to stay, knowing he could never win the game by himself, but Steve already waded to the edge of the pool. Instead of using the metal stairs, he gripped the edge of the pool and lifted himself out in a fluid motion. Water dripped from his torso and out of his shorts, leaving a trail of it on the marble tiles as he closed in on you.

He softly took a hold of your calves, lifting your legs and placing them into his lap so he could sit down on the sunbed. You placed your book on your chest, marveling at drops of water that ran down his milky white torso. That boy did not tan.

"Tired?" You teased, eyes drifting to Thor smashing the ball across the water.

"I can go all day, remember?" He replied, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Sore loser then," you retorted, "nothing wrong with admitting defeat."

"'S not in my genes, I'm afraid," he paused, "so, what' cha reading?"

Even after the sun had set behind the palm trees, the heat remained. The air was still heavy and humid by the time you woke up from your pre-dinner nap and the second you stepped out of your shower, your skin was sticky again. You'd already given up on washing your hair. It would just get greasy again.

It was nearly nine when all of you met up at the restaurant. Overlooking the beach, you had a perfect view of the waves that crashed upon the shore from your seat at the table. You ordered the same ridiculous cocktail and were sipping it quietly, listening to your teammates conversating. Shadows of the palm trees waving gently in the breeze cascaded across the candlelit tables, hypnotizing you for a moment.

Tony's laugh broke your trance and you smiled, not really having listened to the joke. He stood up, scraping his chair back across the cobblestone. His glass of white wine swirled when he rose and he used a fork to tap the side of his glass. Silence immediately fell over the table.

"A toast, to the most annoying yet best teammates a guy like me, could ever ask for," he grinned, "the only reason why I'm saying this is because I've been day-drinking. They make hella Pina Coladas here."

"We know," Natasha said, grinning widely, "we love you too, Tony."

Waiters circled around the tables that had been pushed together to accommodate all of you, plates filled with various kinds of gourmet dishes balancing on their arms and in their hands. You raised your glass, smiling while everyone else did the same.

You looked at Steve, who had taken a seat beside you. He'd traded his swim shorts for a pale blue button-up shirt of which he'd rolled up the sleeves. A shark-tooth necklace, courtesy of one of the salesmen down at the beach who just wouldn’t leave him alone, hung around his neck. It was perfectly visible through the undone buttons on his chest. His hair was fluffy and soft from being in the water all day. You could tell he hadn't tried to style it with gel.

You almost hated yourself for watching him, even from the corner of your eye. It was a habit that had crept into your system over the course of four months. A habit that resembled an addiction to drugs. It was just fun at first, but your constant need to have your eyes on Steve had turned into a necessity, into a way of life.

The two of you had always hit it off. He was the first person to introduce you to the rest of the team when you were initially hired and he had taken it upon himself to show you the ropes and guide your training after that. He made you feel comfortable in an environment filled with strong, confident people during a time in which you felt like a small fish in a big pond. He watched your back on missions and took you to the city on days off - although admittedly, he mostly brought you along for his own selfish reasons.

He forced you to take him to places like McDonald's and KFC, not because the food - although advertised as such - was finger-licking good, but because he'd missed out on the experience of greasy fast food when he was growing up in the previous century. He forced you to take him to BestBuy, not because he was in the market for a new smart-fridge, but because he needed you to explain the appliances that had been invented after he went into the ice without judging him for his continuous stream of questions. It wasn't until your throat was sore from all the talking that he would take you to a coffee shop so you could sit down and enjoy a hot beverage. Not Starbucks though. Way too crowded and the drinks were too complicated. What the hell was a Frappuccino, anyway?

It was during those days where you began to glance at him. Peaks, out of the corners of your eye when he was trying to figure out whether to order a Quarterpounder or a Big-Mac. Admiration for adjusting so quickly in a world so far away from his own, for accepting it. Glances turned into zoned-out stares that focused on his features until he'd wave his hand in front of your face and ask you what planet you were on. Your cheeks would heat up every time, a sight he loved - but would never admit - and you would stammer and make up a stupid excuse about being tired.

You hated the feeling of butterflies fluttering around in your stomach whenever he would brush his arm against yours during the movie nights, or when his knees would hit yours as you sat opposite each other in the coffee shop. You hated the lopsided smiles he gave you when he thought you weren't looking and hated how close he would stand to you in the kitchen when you were making breakfast, shirt off and sweatpants riding low on his perfectly sculpted hips.

You hated how you'd begun to develop a crush on Steve Rogers. It just crept up on you, silent and deadly like a black viper. It had wiggled its way into your heart and settled there, causing it to hammer skip every time you were near him. You wanted to punch yourself for acting like a lovesick puppy because you were sure it was a one-sided thing and yet even as you laid in bed at night with thoughts racing and images of Steve flashing before closed lids, you couldn't turn your fucking brain off long enough to think clearly.

You and Steve were friends. Not just friends, either, but best friends. You spent so much time together it made Tony gag. Natasha couldn't stop obsessing over the two of you, constantly trying to prove that you were secretly dating. Even Bruce caught wind of the closeness of your supposedly platonic relationship and when he caught the two of you in the common room late one night doubled over in hysterical laughter, piles of blankets and fluffy pillows surrounding you on the couch you were sitting on, even he was convinced there was more going on than you were letting on.

As you were sitting on a tropical island, surrounded by the people that you cared for the most, a part of you wished there was. How nice it would be to experience a vacation at a fancy resort in the tropics with a romantic partner. You snorted, picking up your knife and fork while shaking your head. There was nothing going on between you and Steve and as far as he was concerned, there never would be. You were friends, after all, best friends at that, and there was no way that Steve could be interested in you in any other way. He was so perfect in every way and you were just, ordinary. Plain, a Big-Mac without toppings.

Dessert came before you even realized what was going on. You were buzzed at this point from all the cocktails you'd consumed and instead decided to order a glass of ice water to accompany the chocolate lava cake you had ordered. You only ate half, stomach feeling like it was going to burst at any point if you ate any more. Steve, being the gentleman he was, took the fact that you placed your spoon down as a sign and finished it for you.

"Y/N?"

You hadn't heard him coming.

He was standing behind you suddenly, shirt unbuttoned further than before and hair blowing in the wind that had started to pick up. Of course, it had been Tony's idea to host a private party after dinner in the club that was attached to the resort. Employees of SHIELD and the Avengers were dancing inside, booze flowing just as smoothly as the music. You'd stepped outside for only a moment in desperate need for some fresh air and time to think.

It was still warm outside, the soft breeze feeling wonderful on your slightly reddened skin.

"Hey," you said, elbows leaning on the railing that separated the resort from its private beach, "what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," he said smartly, offering you a sip of his sprite, "This is a nice place."

"It's beautiful," you mused, watching the gentle waves and the pearly white sands ahead.

"Yeah," Steve mumbled, "it is."

Seeing you in a white triangle bikini was the single most amazing thing Steve had ever seen. It had taken all his strength not to rip you from the beach and into your bungalow where he could kiss you and have you all to himself at last. The salty water had transformed your hair into waves, and the sun had kissed your skin and made you glow. You were on a towel on your stomach, book in front of you and sunglasses hiding your eyes. A bottle of sunscreen poked out of the tote bag you brought and a bottle of water stood perched up into the sand. It had to be warm by now, but you didn't care.

He loved seeing how much you enjoyed this. How naturally you adjusted to the change of pace, how you blended in with the scenery as if you'd always been there. He got to see a side of you he'd never seen before when you were in New York, where the rain seemed to permanently hang over the city. He loved how you interacted with people you were so used to seeing only at work, but this also made him jealous. He was used to being one of the only people you would hang out with in private but now, you'd practically been glued to everyone but him. How badly he wanted to take you out for a stroll on the beach alone or enjoy a cocktail with you with no-one else watching. Hell, he'd even dance for you at that club with the music he could hardly call music if it meant he got to spend more time with you alone.

He was playing volleyball again, on the beach this time. Half of your party had gone out on scooters for an island excursion, but not you. You had decided that your book was more important, and so you were reading the final chapter with the sun cascading on your back. He'd tried to get you to join him earlier, but once again, you'd declined. Not now, when you were so close to finishing the book. The main character was about to confess her love for the man she'd been chasing for years. She had finally built up the courage to tell him how she really felt. Her words caused your stomach to clench and your heart to pound. You had to know how it would end.

But even the most experienced of readers required a break every once in a while. You were hot, extremely hot and in desperate need of something to cool you off. Alas, the water you'd brought had warmed up, offering no relief from the constant heat blazing down on you. You got up, placing the book into your bag so it wouldn't get covered in the sand and stretched your limbs.

You looked around the beach for a while, noticing it was a lot quieter with half the staff gone for the day and exhaled, allowing a deep breath to escape your lungs while you began to jog across the hot sand.

"When are you going to tell her you're in love with her?" Tony asked with a smug smirk on his face and the ball in his hands.

Steve swallowed, catching the ball with ease.

"You're supposed to hit it back, not catch it and stand there like a dead guy," Tony commented, "Anyway, you dig her and for some reason, you're too afraid to just man up and tell her. Why?"

"Because," Steve said, "we're just friends."

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock. Look, nothing's ever gonna change unless you act and you're an idiot if you think she doesn't feel the same way. Plus, I made a bet with Tash, so you better step up your game and get to it. Like, right now."

"Tony, I can't do that."

"Give me one good reason. Go on, I'm waiting." Another cocky smirk.

"We're coworkers."

Tony rolled his eyes, "Oh please, Fury doesn't give a shit and neither do I. Sign a couple of forms if you have to. Listen, pal if you don't make a move soon, someone else is bound to come in and sweep her off her feet and you'll be sorry forever."

Steve thought for a moment, watching as you walked further away from him and cursed Tony for being right. Again.

"She's the only one who can tolerate your shit, Rogers. Don't let her get away so easily."

Your feet were just touching the water when a hand around your upper arm stopped you from walking into the ocean. You'd ventured out to a more quiet area of the beach, where the only sound audible was the crashing of waves and seagulls over your head. You could still see your towel from where you stood, but the details had become blurry. Perfect.

"Hey," you said, voice sounding startled after you'd turned to look at whoever was holding you.

"I don't know why I allowed Tony of all people to convince me to do this, but I wouldn't be here if what he said to me didn't have a truth to it so I suppose it was for the best." Steve stammered, hands now on your shoulders as if to shield them from the sun.

"What are you talking about?" You asked, confused.

"Do you like me?" He asked, cheeks reddening more and more with each passing second. You couldn't tell through the darkness of your sunglasses, but he didn't know that.

"Of course I do Steve, you're my best-" He cut you off, testosterone and adrenaline taking over now.

"Not like that. Listen, you make me happy. Like, happy, happy. I don't mean the kind of happy that I get when I run into Sam at the gym and he has a fresh smoothie and a bagel for me, or when we successfully complete a mission and return home safely. It's not the kind of happy I get when I drink my favorite coffee, or when I see a dog at the park."

"What are you saying?" You whispered, eyes hidden by tinted glasses sliding across his face for any sign of fuckery.

There was none. You're suddenly painfully aware of the water swishing against your legs, aware of the grains of sand beneath your feet and his touch, which burned hotter than any sun in the universe could ever do. It's like you'd taken a step inside the book you were just reading.

"You make me feel things I haven't felt before, but want to feel all the time. I crave you when you're not there. The brush of your fingers, the softness of your voice and your laugh, Y/N, I need to hear it all the time and hell, I don't want to even think about having to share it with anyone else because I can't stand to bear the thought." He realized he was being dramatic, but he didn't care.

It disgusted him how easy it had been for Tony to convince him to tell you, but he was right. Walking on eggshells around you was ridiculous and even though Steve realized that being this honest could ruin everything in a matter of seconds, he also knew that lying was a habit he hated and he had been lying to himself for far too long by pretending to accept your friendship as the endstage.

Your hand was on his chest before he knew what was happening. A small smile played on your rosy lips, yet there was hesitation hidden behind those sunglasses. Hesitation, because what if the only reason why he said those words to you was because of a stupid bet? You were almost convinced of it, but his blue orbs told you the truth far better than any of his words could ever do. He was searching for confirmation, waiting for you to tell him you felt the same. Hell, they were begging you to say something, anything just to get the anticipation out of the way. It was like a horror movie, where you knew a jump scare was coming but you didn't know when.

"I do like you," you said finally, "more than dogs at the park."

An amused expression on your face allowed him to finally breathe again. Bright blue eyes still intensely scanned your face, just to make sure you too were telling the truth. He wasn't a walking lie detector - unlike Natasha - but he could tell you were honest.

"I want to take you out," more adrenaline, "properly. Not a coffee shop date, but a real date. With flowers and dinner."

Your heart clenched, second hand finding his chest, "I would like that."

It was hard to stand on the tip of your toes while being in the sand. You sank a little, so it kind of defeated the purpose, but still, you did your best to gain some height on the tall man in front of you. His piercing blues traveled across your shoulders, followed a trail of glimmering sunshine along your body and you sighed, almost fearful you ended up with a heat stroke and were currently delusional. Or drunk. Or both.

But his lips, salty from the ocean water he took in when he went under a while ago and soft, felt very fucking real. You could hardly believe it because did dreams really come true, but hell yeah they did, because you were in one right now and you were not asleep. You were kissing, mouth on mouth and it didn't stop there, because your tongue soon slipped in - you blamed the alcohol you had earlier for your sudden boldness. Blamed him too, for overwhelming you with it.

You didn't even care about the fact that Tony and some level 6 SHIELD employees were watching you guys make out on a private beach. Didn't give a damn about the fact that Tony picked up his phone to call Natasha about how she now owed him $200, or how your sunscreen was starting to wear off and your skin would soon turn red. You finally had Steve right where you wanted him, really had him now, and you didn't plan on letting go anytime soon.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #imagines #steve rogers imagines #captain america imagine #steve rogers #captain america #captain america smut #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel smut #marvel #avengers imagine #avengers smut #avengers imagines #steve rogers fic

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kanene-yaaay-o-retorno · 4 years

Text

The Color of my Soul(mates) [2]

[First oneshot]

[AO3 link]

Kanene’s Notes:

Nope, I do not regret the pun. New oneshot yaaaay!! Just a quick reminder that both Virgil and Patton’s mindsets are bad. They can work, of course, but only for a certain expense. Worry not. They will both start to go to a therapist and take care of themselves, even though this will not be heavily shown in the oneshots.

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic has Moxiety and Past Moceit and Past Virgil/Remus (no idea how it’s called dfghjdfghj) in a platonic relationship (yet), but it can be viewed as romantic, if you wish.

* Swearing, depreciative thoughts, losing someone (not death, just stopping to be soulmate), anger issues, anxious thoughts and nightmares. It’s hurt/comfort.

* [~*~] Means passage of time

* [...] Means change in the focus of the narrative

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing Thomas Sanders in his series of Sanders Sides.

* Something around 5.300 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Say to someone important how much you love them, be safe, talk with the one that you love, drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

Loneliness is an island with missing boats.

Missing is when the moment tries to run away from the memories to happen again and can’t do it.

Memories are when, even without authorization your thinking re-presents a chapter.

- Adriana Falcão - Meanings

[~*~]

Hey, Dee! It’s been some time, huh? Nothing really happened around here, so I have no interesting news to share today. Buut, I learned a new knock knock joke! I would finally get you to laugh with this one! It’s like that:

Me: Knock, knock.

U: Who’s there?

Me: Ice cream.

U: Ice cream who?

Me: Ice cream if you don’t let me in!

Funny, right?!

… It feels silly to continue to talk with you through those letters. I can’t-

I don’t even know where to send them! That is stup- not great.

I just… I just miss you, Dee. A lot. My uncle says that I should get your old representation out of the bed and hide it so I can start moving on, but… It feels empty, you know? Everything.

I really miss you.

Love, Heart.

[…]

“No.”

His words echoed in his mind, the strap of his backpack slipping from his grip, his body throwing itself forward, heart jumping in the back of his throat as his steps inevitably brought him even closer to the faded green, almost white, shark plushie in front of him.

“No.”

He repeated, as if this was a spell able to make the scene before him change. His hands trembled and failed in touching the so loved object, a silent scream slipping from his slightly parted lips. Yet, he still tried to think of something. Anything that would erase his choices. He knew it.

He should have known. He read about it before, the butterfly effect. Any choice, any movement, any little thing you did could change drastically your future. It could make events – people – which would happen in your life just…

Disappear.

[The stuffed animal remained quiet on his hands, it’s blank face staring superficially, not really seeing him. Not like before.]

He knew it.

“Rat?” He knew it. He knew it. He knew, knew, knewknewknew it! “Ree?” His soul searched desperate for an answer. But he got none. No thoughts, no feelings, no small touches, no acknowledging sparks, nothing.

That word seemed to ring unbearably in his ears. There was nothing there. Nothing except for the silence and the void which filled itself with despair at every that went by.

“This better not be a prank or this time I will throw you in the washing machine for real!” Virgil’s eyes were stinging. He should have done better, should have thought in another way or another anything. He shouldn’t have done that, he shouldn’t!

“Ree, stop. That is not funny.” Ree actually preferred when Virgil called him Rat, and as his chest was scratched by an agonizing, crescent fear, deep down the young boy wished his soulmate would jump – his thoughts always felt like that, excited, uncontrollable jumpy frogs just playing around – from somewhere and demands Virgil called him by it. “Answer me!!”

His fingers squished the soft fabric, a short, unexpected wave of anger pleading for at least a shout of pain before Virgil realized what he was doing, immediately lighting his touch, tears shining in a sad gloom in the corner of his eyes. His breathing started to hurt.

He needed to do something.

“MOM!!”

Virgil opened his door with a strong slam, running through the wooded floor of the corridor, stumbling his way to the stairs, coming down at the highest speed he could muster. The adult figure was already standing in the living room, the Tv blasting a show in the background, probably the activity his mother was concentrating on before his cry. A frown painted her face and her dark eyes stared at the boy when he stood in front of her, holding his stuffed shark in her direction.

“Fix him!”

[‘it’ a quiet whisper from his brain corrected his sentence.]

Her analytical eyes danced around the toy in front of her, looking for any teared fabric, any stain or hint of what happened to it, the confusion in her actions becoming more and more prominent as no visible result was found.

[And, as her analysis occurred, the quiet whisper in the back of his mind wondered if this was the original color of the shark before it became a representation of his soulmate. They were together for so long Virgil didn’t even remember what it used to look like.]

No! The boy with heterochromatic eyes firmly gritted his teeth, head shaking. This was NOT the shark’s real color. Its real color was a dark, deep, enthusiastic green full of chaotic ideas and dumb jokes and sparks and grins.

He refused to let everything end in this way.

Realization fell in her face, a soft gasp coming from her open mouth. “Oh, Virgil…”

“No, no, no! You- You need to fix him!” But her eyes… “Mom, please,” the way her arms opened to involve his small, trembling form…

“Please, he is my best friend.”

[‘Was’]

She hugged him, cradling her fingers in his hair and lightly rocking Virgil and his sobs, her sweet words muffled by his cry. Then the younger one wiggled out of her touch, getting the plushie and running back to his room, the door slamming one more time.

He refused.

“No! No!!” He kicked his backpack, its content spreading across his carpeted floor. The shark was placed in his desk seconds before the Virgil focused his anger on his bed, throwing everything on the floor. His pillows hit the walls and the toys on his shelves. The cacophony of sounds made his head hurt, but he ignored this in order to kick and throw more things.

Seconds, minutes, countless pieces of time passed before he stopped, panting and with stinging eyes in the middle of the room, his only possessions left untouched was his guitar and Ra- His shark stuffed animal.

Because he loves playing guitar. Because he loves Ree.

His fingers pet its soft fur, wandering in every detail, trying to burn in his soul how alive and colored it used to be before today.

Virgil felt like crying, felt like hugging his old-representation with all his might and just spent the rest of the day like this, pleading that Ree would come back and Virgil would do better and everything could be back to normal again.

But he refused.

He refused to cry like a baby. He refused to let this happen to him. He refused to be made a fool by the Soulmate System or whatever sadistic creature that observed him right now. He refused to go through all of this again.

Ever again.

Virgil opened his closet and got up on his chair, hiding the shark on the highest shelf under a bunch of old comforts he never got to use.

They wanted him to be a Colorless? Very well, then.

[~*~]

Anger is when the dog who lives in you shows its teeth.

Sadness is a gigantic hand that squeezes your heart.

- Adriana Falcão - Meanings

[~*~]

Hiya, Dee.

Some days are better, some are worse.

It hurts.

But, hm, good things, right? Today was sunny and refreshing, I love when this happens. A ladybug landed in my hand yesterday, it was so small… I also found another beautiful feather when I went to the park last weekend, very fluffy and a baby on the bus smiled at me after I made some funny faces.

I hope you’re also receiving and giving some beautiful smiles there. Aunt just called me for the movie night so… See you later!

I miss-

Love, Heart.

[…]

Virgil woke up sweating. A tight feeling clutching the back of his mind. However, he managed to catch himself before his eyes opened, the back of his hand pressing them, as if to make sure they wouldn’t open against his will.

Urg… Not this again…

Virgil pressed harder the pillow curling around his head, the pressure easing the irritation as he groaned in protest, wondering how much more time it would take before he finally grew used to this routine. An annoying sensation banged rhythmically on his chest, hammering together with his heart and flying along with the butterflies on his stomach over and over again until a slightly nausea almost leaded the one in pajamas to give up and just find the nearest stuffed animal so his soulmate’s bond could finally be initiated, his representation showed up and then the exhausted teen could finally get some freaking rest and then proceed to turn a blind eye to his soulmate for the rest of their lives.

Who would say that ignoring the Soulmate System would be so hard?

But, damn, even if this shit always came back at the right moment when the first ray of sunshine hit his face, usually Virgil had at least the freedom of the night to sleep!

His hand wandered clumsily, hitting the bean bag next to his bed and looking for the small device he always left there for the night. He sighs when his fingers make contact with the cold of his phone, quickly bringing it up to his face and making sure nothing else could get in his eye field. On the third try he succeeded to put the right password, ignoring the video shining on it and quickly lowering the brightness of his screen until it was almost nonexistent.

Four in the morning. What the heck was his not-for-much-longer-soulmate doing up at this hour??

Ok. It didn’t matter, Virgil murmured to himself, his words slurring, completely engulfed by the fog of sleepiness which continued to involve him. It didn’t matter because Virgil was sure he would manage to win that battle, just like he did on every other occasion since Ree. Of course, he never had a perfect receipt for this, only a group of superficial orientations as focusing on something else, tossing around the mattress until the exhaustion took over his body or doing anything that guaranteed his suborn nature to fight until the bond faded away with some hours, maybe one or two days.

However, this one was about to complete a whole week and his resolution was beginning to weaken, escaping between his fingers regardless of how much he fought to hold it with tooth and nails. The mild headache growing on him was the proof of this.

He flipped his pillow, letting its cold surface rest on his face, adjusting himself to lay starfished onto the bed.

He needed distractions.

Songs. He liked to listen to music a lot, something he would be very much inclined to do now if it wasn’t so late and his earphones were so far away. But, stopping to think about it, it was crazy how sounds work, like, even if they’re far away they manage to be heard. Pretty much like that weird sound captured by that boat who was only minding its business… The Bloop. Heh. The Bloop. Such a stupid name… He wondered if it was a Jurassic animal doing that and when humanity would be finally able to answer his question. If it is really an animal will they call him Bloop? That is a horrible name to give to something probably gigantic and scary… Bloop… Bloopers… blooo...

His muscles from his toes to the tip of his fingers began to relax, his breathing becoming more erratic as the trail of nonsense thoughts led him away from reality and straight to the cloak of Morpheus. Bit by bit he started to be unaware of his room. First the faint sound of his spider quietly scraping the sand on her terrarium, second the sensation of the pillow on his face, then the cold of his phone as it slipped away from his hand…

And, unsupervised by the teenager's eyes, his index finger hit the ‘play’ button on the video, and the blasting of Aquiles Priester’s drums filled the room in a hot shot, followed in the same second by Virgil’s hoarse scream. The confusion and sound making the one with heterochromatic eyes stumble to a sit position, blankets and pillows falling from him as his astonished movements tried to be coordinated enough to turn off his phone before his mother woke up and decided to know why and what her son was doing up at four-darn-morning.

The button was hit and the silence was faster in cover the room all over again, being only broken by Virgil’s shaken gasps, his trembling fingers laying on his adulterated heartbeats, taking large, wobbly deep breaths in order to normalize it, his attention entirely focused on hearing any hint of muffled step outside his room.

In. Hold. Out.

He was fine. Everything was fine.

This was only a scare.

In. Hold. Out.

Okay. No sound. Virgil allowed himself to fall on his bed, stretching and humming in attempts to ground him to reality, not taking too long to let the sleepiness begin to slowly crawl to his mind again, his body feeling surprisingly much lighter than it had been in days. A yawn escaped from his lips. What the hell he was doing with his cell phone anyway?

For the second time in the night his body fled to a sitting position, the sudden calm and coziness which hit his senses now having a slightly sour taste on his mouth as the teenager realized what it meant.

His soulmate bond was complete.

His gaze flew to the small pile of fabric on the floor, a glint of a sky-blue color shining amidst it. He pushed his blankets away and his breath hitched when the full form of his soulmate’s representation was shown.

Oh no. Nononono. That was-

That wasn’t normal. Nor supposed to happen. Oh shit. Shitshitshitshit. What could he do?

Virgil dropped – carefully, even if the cold on the bottom of his stomach screamed for him to run! – the object on his bed, getting across the room and right in front of his closet in a blink of an eye. The door flung open, his gaze scrambling through all his possessions in search of that specific teddy bear his mother gave him a year ago, telling it was going to help him to heal, grabbing it firmly and plopping it next to the blue fabric calmly laying on his mattress. He bit his nails while his eyes ran from an object to another, waiting for the color to somewhat jump on the plushie, where it was supposed to go in the first place.

Virgil stared inquisitively at his pillow- no, his soulmate’s representation, as if he could scare the reality into changing itself. His fingers ran through his hair, feet pacing on the floor.

Ok. His soulmate was a pillow. A literal pillow. That was not good.

Before he could fall on his parasitizing thoughts or hide the pillow and pretend nothing had happened, a badly muffled sound reached him, making his body freeze as his brain immediately recognized what it was:

Crying.

[...]

Before is a caterpillar who didn’t become a butterfly, yet.

Indecision is when you know very well what you want, but you think you should want another thing.

- Adriana Falcão - Meanings

[...]

Hey, dear! Heart here again! It’s been a time, huh? I discovered a new Pet Shop nearby and a very nice old lady let me play with the puppies after school. You really should see the hamsters there! They’re the cutest, most precious soft things!!

They don’t have any snakes, sadly.

I… I hid your teddy bear and I’m getting used to not stare at the right corner of the mattress, looking for you.

I still miss your smooth thoughts, your warmth, your advice and receipts and… you.

I think I’m getting better. The sensation is starting to feel… normal.

Remember we-

I used to-

I know you won’t really read this, but I’m trying to keep taking care of myself.

Hooray?

Love, Heart.

[…]

Patton loved stuffed animals and this was a fact that anyone who got into his room for barely two seconds would realize. Small plushies of multicolored frogs rested on his shelves. A big polite giraffe sat on his desk, proudly showing off her new necktie and his older ones were in the closet, guarding his favorites clothes. His soulmates, of course, had a special treatment, receiving a seat on his bed, closer to him and within his research at any occasion, emergency or not.

And that was an emergency. Well…technically.

Maybe…

Perhaps not.

The teenager changed to a sitting position, his fingers trapping the mattress in a deadly grip, tears falling from his eyes, which was firmly focused on the moon shaped night light across his room, trying to kick out the too cold, too hot feeling the nightmare left on his skin.

His brain felt fuzzy and his thoughts were all mushed together, way too messy to properly fight against the memories of his dream replaying on his head. The sensation of pure despair still running on his veins as the monster – tall, fast, its shadow hovering over his small form – chased him and his friends. Patton still felt his throat dry after running for what seemed hours, and for when he realized they would never manage to actually escape from it. He could feel the betrayed eyes of his loved ones as he made each one of them trip, the small period when the monster got them giving him enough time to escape, the screams ringing on his ears.

He muffled his sobs, slapping his hand on his mouth and getting up, going to his closet and grabbing his panda. It was one of the fluffiest stuffed animals he had and he could use a bit of softness right now. His steps were tired and he hid his face on the plushie even before laying on his bed again, curling around the bear as if it was the core of safeness, as if it would make all the bad thoughts and feelings go away.

As if it could erase all the nightmare and convince the part of his mind which said that if it was real life, that would be exactly what he would do, that it was wrong.

It was! It was completely wrong! Patton would never, ever, betray his friends, or hurt them, or go away when they needed most! He wouldn’t. He would fight, if it was needed. He would do his best every single time to help them! To be there. He wouldn’t just run away. He couldn’t. He couldn’t be alone. He didn’t even bear that thought.

[A part of his soul struggled, firm on its position. It kept holding into a bond that directed to another soul who kept pushing him away, both refusing to change their mind.]

Bear. Patton let go of a weak, barely audible, forced giggle, squeezing the panda on his touch tighter. Panda was a bear. Heh. His tears began to calm themselves, falling slower from the corner of his eyes, a strange and sudden wave of strange, but welcomed calmness hitting him.

A sudden warm touch laid on his forehead.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Patton gasped, his wide eyes flying open to stare at the now purple plushie on his grip.

Purple. Pandas weren’t purple. He was sure this one was always white with black dots and tiny glasses on it. Definitely not purple. Not unless it was-

Oh.

Ohhh.

Oh no.

For a moment his breath was taken, adrenaline exploded across his body and his mind went blank, his face stumbling forward to press his lips on the panda’s forehead, a completely lack of words, especially when a flow of sentences began to appear running over themselves and leading to his very tired brain to struggle in order to try to grasp their meaning before another phrase came and took its place.

[His body seemed to relax, letting go of a ball of tension Patton didn’t even realize he had in the first place.]

“Fuck, sorry, that was pretty dumb. Of course you’re not fine, why else would you be crying? What I was trying to say is: Can you get better? No, wait! That sounded harsh and it’s definitely not what I meant- wanted to say. Ehh, shit. Okay. Uhh. Breath, okay? Breathing is a good thing. You have to breathe to stay alive so I think it’s already a good start. Keep breathing, please do not die. Oh god, wait, that is not a dangerous situation, is it? Are you in danger? Are you dying? Oh, fuck I can’t hear-”

A startled giggle made a run from Patton’s lips, making his new soulmate to be quiet.

“Urg, sorry.”

“No, no. I was not laughing at you!” He adjusted his grip so the only part touching the purple bear would be him holding one of his paws, realizing he forgot to stop hugging him earlier. “I am okay. I just… didn’t want to cry on you, sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t, huh, care.”

“Crazy how bonds happen nowadays.” Patton attempted a joke, feeling suddenly a bit vulnerable, internally wishing the other wouldn’t ask about the reason for his tears. “It-It’s hot today, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, with the Sun and everything.”

“Yeepp.” Patton sniffed, cleaning the tear track left on his cheeks before resting his back on the bed’s headboard, a beginning of a headache after that waterfall of emotions shining in the horizon.

“...Do you want to listen to a song? It helps me to calm down when I’m, ya know.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m already a bit better.”

“Ok, sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Maybe it was sleepiness or the excitement of having a new soulmate, but before he could think much more about it the hidden truth was slipping from his mouth, “I’m grounded. No phone for the week.”

“That sucks.” The teenager just shrugged, hoping his soulmate would understand the action by his movement.

Silence impregnated the room, spreading and filling his system, his eyelashes closing bit by bit.

“I know how to play guitar. I can… play a song for you. Onlyifyouwantofcourse.” The thought was quick, quiet and disappeared as soon as it arrived, leading Patton to almost believe he imagined it.

A good feeling bloomed in his chest, a smile flourishing on his face as he held his soulmate’s free hand, carefully squeezing them in what he hoped it showed his gratitude.

“I would love to.”

“’Kay. Uh, cool. Give me a second.”

And then a few minutes later his form was engulfed by warmth. Patton let go a sigh of relief, basically melting in the so caring touch, don't having the heart - that word gave a hurtful tug in his chest - to remember his new soulmate he couldn't really hear the accords, only the shy, calming humming rumbling on his chest and lullabying them to a peaceful sleep.

[~*~]

Feeling is the language the heart uses when it needs to send a message.

- Adriana Falcão - Meanings.

[~*~]

"How can I call you?"

Patton stopped his voice before that old nickname got out, scratching his throat. He should try to move on, right?

Baby steps.

"Pat."

"Pat?"

"Pat-Pat!"

Virgil rolled his eyes, denying the small smile which appeared on the corner of his mouth.

“You can call me V.”

[…]

“So, you’re a pillow.”

Patton blinked, a surprised snort filling the room. “V, I know I often say I’m soft but if you wanted to rest on me all you needed to do was ask!” He added some shadowing on some feathers, giving the drawing of the Bem-te-Vi more profundity. He was really happy he found that site about the birds of America.

“No, I mean literally. Like… your representation is not a stuffed animal, it’s a pillow.”

“Oooh…” He blinked a few times. “I didn’t know that still happens.”

“What do you mean with ‘still happens’? This happened to you before?”

“Not with me, but I saw a video about this! Before the plushies became famous due their shape being easier to be seen as human-like, the bond would form in anything that could be quickly dyed, just like clothes, pieces of fabric, pillows… I think if they showed it to a doctor, he would describe their condition as ‘comfortable!’” Patton shook lightly the panda’s shoulder, smiling. “Uh? Got it? Comfortable? Because they’re soft?”

“Pat, that was horrible.”

“Awww, come oon.” Patton rested his chin on V’s head, forgetting his drawing for a while. “Puns are harder than knock knock jokes! You have to wait for the perfect timing to make them.” Virgil huffed. “Not even an itsy bitsy giggle?”

“Nope.”

Silence.

“Pat?”

“No. I am pouting.”

He felt a couple of pats (ha-) on his head, the touching going away in a few seconds. “You will get there some day.” The other answered his soulmate with a raspberry, giggling a bit of his own silliness before going back to his hobby. He really was planning to finish this bird today.

“The thing is… Since you’re, ya know, a pillow. I was thinking… okay, I know that this will sound weird but… I was thinking of putting some clothes on your representation so I can… try to see you better.”

“Ah.”

“Only if you’re comfortable, sure!”

“No, no. I am! It’s just…” Patton bit his lips, lightly squeezing the shell of his ear with the hand that wasn’t holding the pencil, adjusting his body to a better sitting position. “What clothes do you have in mind? Not that I think your taste is bad or you don’t know how to choose good clothes or something like that!”

“No, it’s cool!” The thought came in the moment Patton forced himself to stop his nervous talking. “I wanted to ask you because of that, I, uh, have black t-shirts, jeans, an old grey hoodie, PJs, clothes when I was a kid, onesies, maybe I can get a dress?”

“Gasp. Do you have onesies?? Aww, I want!”

“Everyone has a onesie.” Virgil mumbled in defense, feeling his cheeks getting hot. “I have a skeleton one, a raccoon and the Toothless from How to Tra-”

“OHMYGOSH YOU HAVE TOOTHLESS!” Virgil had absolutely no idea how Pat managed to make a thought so high pitched and excited to the point the words themselves were barely understandable. “HE IS THE MOST PRECIOUS, CUTE LIL DRAGON…” and then a bunch of squeaks and mumbling took over his brain just as he has hugged and then lightly bounced before suddenly everything disappeared.

He decided it was safer to let the silence prolong itself a bit longer.

…

“Pat?”

“You might need to give me a few more minutes, kiddo.”

“You need to chill, dude.” Virgil remarked, a ray of fondness shining in his words. He gathered his onesie. It was his favorite one when he was fourteen, now it didn’t even fit on him anymore and it clearly wasn’t made to be used by a pillow, as well, but it would suffice until he thought of a better solution. “Ok. Got it, you might want to use your Blocker now.”

“Okayy, it’s somewhereeeeee...” Patton rummaged the content of his backpack, looking for the earphone-shaped object. He hadn’t the chance to buy the wireless prototype, so he struggled a few seconds to untangle the cables. “Here! So, see you in fifteen minutes?”

“Ok. If you hear or feel something just touch my arm and I will immediately stop.”

“Right!! Bye!” Patton waved, more a habit than anything else, plugging the Blocker on his ears and the cluing its ventosa behind his head, right where his cerebellum was. A few pieces of time went by before his head became partially empty, only his thoughts filling it. He put the panda away.

It was a strange feeling, to use this outside his school, nor parallel conversation of his classmates or a teacher’s voice filling the air to distract his attention for the fact that he couldn’t hear or feel his soulmates anymore. He hummed, wondering how Lo was and writing a self note on the corner of his paper that he should check on him later, ask for him to finish that story with the smart detective he was telling him on Sunday before Patton fell asleep due the other’s habit to keep petting his hair, probably a revenge for Patton’s constant need to hugging, holding or actively interacting with his serious soulmate’s representation, more often than not receiving fond-exasperate pokes in return.

He looked through the window, mind wandering as the wind hit the tree in his neighbor’s yard, messing with its leaves. It was a bit lonely to have your thoughts all to yourself…

But not entirely bad.

[…]

“Sooo, howz does it looks like?” The naturally excited voice asked. Virgil just pressed his hand firmer on his lips, his other arm hugging his middle. His gaze fell for what it felt the umpteen time in the blue dyed pillow before him, the sleeves of his onesie folded inwards in a poor attempt to cut half of its original length, the ‘legs’ were criss crossed and all of this ignoring, of course, the unnatural rectangular shape of the whole thing.

‘Like shit.’ It was his first thought, but he decided to not send it to Pat.

“Weird.”

“I am looking at my pillows right now and-” giggles, “but come ooon, it’s Toothless! There is no way it isn’t at least a bit cute!”

‘You have no neck.’ He internally panicked, looking at the few, sporadic tiny blue hearts appearing amidst the black onesie, showing the representation was getting used to the new fabric attached to it. ‘A probably-head, shoulders but no neck. It’s like a reverse freaking giraffe!’

However, Virgil decided against sharing this particular vision with the other.

“I guess. Are you… breathing well or whatever?” His tune was a mix of nonchalant and nervous, the choice of words making him wince.

“I am. Why?”

“No. Nothing. No reason.”

“Oookay.” The teenage signed at the confusion on his soulmate’s tune, why did he had to talk in the first place or be so weird making a such big deal of something stupid like that? Urg. He stared at the blue object one more time. Damn Soulmate System. Damn destiny. Damn lack of socialization skills.

…………

But, dude, really, the guy has literally no neck here, there is NO WAY he isn’t feeling nothing because of that. Pat is probably lying because he pities him after a so horrible, futile attempt of fixing what he caused. No. Wait. He can’t just assume his soulmate is lying because of his overthinking, the other part of his brain retorted. Was he overthinking? He probably was. He always did it. Or perhaps this was a correct inkling of Pat. Soulmates were supposed to do that sort of thing after some time, right? One week was enough time? What he-

“Hey!” Pat’s thought cut his own. “Sooo, now that you can ‘see’ me a bit better… hug? You can say no if you want, sure!”

Virgil blinked one, two, three times.

“Ok. But you let go when I let go, got it?”

“Sure thing, V!” Warmth bloomed in his chest when he heard his nickname, Virgil wasn’t sure why.

He embraced the representation, feeling a bit silly, the same feeling that was fast to go away as Pat hugged him as well, firm but careful. The sensation overwhelmed his senses, but in a good way, leading the one who loved guitars and got a strange hyper fixation on drums to let go a sigh, body relaxing.

He patted Pat’s back two times before finishing the touch. “There you go.”

“Thanks! Sooo, see you later.”

“Sure thing.” He agreed, wanting nothing more than a good hot bath after so many feelings in such a small period of time.

“uwu”

“How the fu-”

“NO SWEARING!”

“-did you do that?”

Virgil snorted, the warmth still spreading on his chest and maybe - only maybe, - having a new soulmate wasn’t an entire bad thing.

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