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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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A Deafened Bard (Stephen Strange x Female!Reader) pt. 2

Doctor Strange and y/n confide their tragic backstories in one another. Y/n struggles with her feelings for him.

Trigger warnings: abusive parenting, use of firearms, discussion of death and grief, mention of alcoholism

"On the outside, always looking in

Will I ever be more than I've always been?

Cause I'm tap, tap, tapping on the glass-"

You stopped yourself before you could indulgently belt out the titular lyric.

"Ew, why was I singing that?" You muttered to yourself. "I don't even like that song."

You knew, subconsciously, that it was because you were trying to avoid what you really wanted to sing. For the first time ever, you had an audience. Someone was paying attention.

"Love of my life, you've hurt me-"

"Oh, come on, butterfingers." He interrupted. "Love of my Life by Freddie Mercury. Give me something hard."

"I wasn't aware it was classic rock trivia night."

"Then why were you staring straight at me while singing?" He smirked.

"Was I?" You cocked your head, expertly deflecting his implication. "I'm so spaced out I don't even know where I'm looking."

"It's Freddie Mercury." He insisted.

"Uh, yes and no." You corrected, drawing on your encyclopedic knowledge of Queen from one particularly weird summer in high school. "While Freddie Mercury wrote the song, it was recorded on a Night at the Opera. Which was accredited to the whole band."

"That's a nitpick," he shook his head. "I'm still right."

You couldn't wear your heart on your sleeve anymore. You could only distract him with 70s glam rock trivia for so long before he started to notice a pattern. Although a sappy love song was in your heart, you sang the anthem of the depressed theater kid.

You were staring straight at him, though. But who wouldn't? You studied his features only for artistic inspiration. His sharp jaw and high, high cheekbones were… inspiring.

You couldn't lie to yourself. You fell and fell hard.

"Butterfingers!" Master Strange called out from the other side of the sanctum. "I need you!"

You dropped your pencil and pushed yourself out from the chair. "Coming!"

You followed the voice into his chambers. This was a new development, you thought. Out of respect for his privacy, you'd never dared to snoop around in his bedroom. But this was practically a written invitation.

The room was spotless. Not a book or a scrap of paper out of place. Nor was there much to look at at all. A handful of picture frames, some magazines from when he was a surgeon, all featuring himself on the cover.

"Butterfingers!" He called again, as if he knew you were about to snoop.

"I'm here!" You yelled back, eyes wandering around the room. "What do you need?"

"I left my watch somewhere in the library!" He sounded disproportionately panicked for what was just a minor inconvenience. "I need you to go get it for me."

"What does it look like?" You asked.

"It's a $27,000 watch." He snapped impatiently. "It looks like one."

"Jesus." You cursed.

"Don't give me that shit, [F/N]." He ordered, slamming his fist down against the sink. "Just do what you're goddamn told."

"Alright, alright!" You put your hands up. "Fine, I'll get it."

You hurried down the stairs and into the library. On the floor between his favorite chair and a stack of musty old books was a slim, silvery watch with a plain black band.

You picked it up and examined it. Apart from the price tag, was there really any reason for him to be so worried about it? He knew exactly where he left it. Did he have reason to believe it wouldn't be there when he returned?

All you needed to do was flip it over to get your answer. You read the inscription on the back.

Time will tell how much I love you -- Christine

You should have known that his massive ego wouldn’t keep the women away forever. Hell, it certainly didn’t deter you. Much uglier douchebags have gotten far prettier girlfriends than they deserved.

You closed your fingers around the watch and sighed. The fantasy you created for yourself, of slowly, deliberately earning his love was shattered. Christine already beat you to it, it seemed. You tried to smother the part of you that resented this person for her exclusive right to Master Strange's affections. You didn't know her, but you loathed her. And you felt filthy for it.

With a heavy heart, you brought the stupid, criminally expensive little timepiece back to its rightful owner.

"Here's your all-important watch, master." You mumbled, placing it on the bedside table.

"I know I told you I would give you space to question things," He said, swiping it from the table and expertly affixing it around his wrist. "But I'd really appreciate it if you didn't question this."

You tried to sound as non-passive-aggressive as you could. You attempted a more forgiving tone, but you couldn't hide your hurt. "It's fine. I don't care."

"I didn't mean to get short with you, [F/N]." His voice softened. "I'm sorry. But this watch-"

"It's fine." You cut him off, peering at the floor.

"It was a gift." He finished anyway.

You felt the lump in your throat rising. You knew what the watch represented and you wanted to smash it to pieces. Along with the sting of rejection, you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. "I know. I saw the engraving."

"She died two years ago." He lowered his head.

Suddenly, all your ill will towards this woman turned into guilt.

"I'm sorry to hear that." You said. "I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone who loved you so much."

"She had agreed to come to a speaking engagement with me. As a second chance, and-" Pain wrapped his voice. He closed his hand tightly around the watch and held it close to his chest. "Have you ever been in love before, [F/N]?"

From the way your heart ached, and how easily the thought of never being with him made you cry, you knew the answer. You'd been avoiding speaking it into being thus far, but you couldn't lie to yourself anymore.

"Yes." You whispered.

"You'll learn soon enough." He muttered. "It only brings more suffering."

The tears finally breached and you tried to blink them away. You didn't know what emotion was causing them: guilt, shame, contempt, anger, sadness-- they were all present.

"Master Strange, I-" you stuttered, tripping over your breath. "I respect what you've gone through, I really do, but it's not fair to take it out on me."

"You're right." He conceded. "I'm sorry. Please, go get some sleep.”

You nodded. “Right.”

You slept as late as you could get away with the next morning. In apprentice terms, that only meant sleeping until eight thirty. Your dailies could wait an extra hour while you laid in bed, feeling like garbage.

You stumbled down the spiral staircase in your pajamas. No bra, no makeup and no effort. You didn’t even run a brush through your hair. Why try, you thought. Why make an effort for the man who would never see you as anything but the help?

When you saw the piano, though, you did a full 180.

In the living area was a French cherry baby grand piano that definitely was not there before. You certainly would have noticed it before. You placed your phone on the counter and approached the new addition.

As if the memories were woven into the very muscles and ligaments of your fingers, you ran down a few octaves of C Major. The keys were smooth as porcelain and the sound that emanated from the instrument was next to heavenly.

A bright orange post-it note was stuck to the music rack.

“Love of my Life”, Queen, A Night at the Opera. 1975

Was this a request, or an admission of wrong? Whatever the case, it made you smile.

"You weren't being entirely honest with me, Butterfingers." He said, randomly materializing behind you.

You turned around on the piano bench and looked up at him. "What was I not honest about?"

"I'm so glad you asked." He sat down on the bench next to you, phone in hand. "Because when you said you used to play piano, you didn't specify you were actually a student prodigy."

Sure enough, on his phone, he was scrolling through your Instagram. Dozens of videos of a much younger [F/N] playing hundreds of different songs, singing with too many vocal runs and doing so with the entire content of her soul behind the music.

"Student prodigy is a bit strong." You turned your head to hide your blush.

He scrolled up and found a picture of a young, zit-faced teenage [F/N] holding an acceptance letter. "Last I checked, Juilliard doesn't give full-ride scholarships to just anyone."

You covered your face with your hands, smothering an embarrassed smile. "God, please. I'd rather you'd found my OnlyFans."

He raised his eyebrows. "As tempting as that sounds, I'd still rather hear your explanation on this. Why did you give up on something you loved?"

You looked at him in surprise. "You really want to know?"

"Well, I told you mine." He playfully nudged you in the side.

You took a deep breath in. "Well, it was about two years ago, now-”

"Cheers to you, [F/N]!" Your best friend Holly raised her glass of champagne in your direction. "Juilliard ain't gonna know what hit ‘em."

"I'll drink to that." You said, bring your own flute up to your lips and taking a swig. You wretched in disgust as the vile liquid ran down your throat. "Or maybe I won't."

"You're gonna have to get used to it." Holly nudged you with her elbow. "I think most professional musicians are alcoholics."

You narrowed your eyes at her. "I don't think that's right."

"Is too." She smirked. "Conductors are mad strict. Abusive even. Drive musicians to drink all the time."

You laughed. "Is everything you know about the world of music from Whiplash?"

"And The Perfection." She added.

"Thank you, Holly." You said, attempting to take another sip of champagne, purely for dramatic effect. "Very cool."

You felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. "Hi, Holly. Enjoying the party?"

Holly took a step back. "Hey, Mrs. [L/N]. Yeah, it's great."

"I hope you don't mind," Your mom said, her fake nice voice eeking through her clenched teeth. "I need to borrow [F/N] for a few minutes."

Holly's face fell. "Sure. I'll catch up with you later, [F/N]."

Your mother tugged you off to the side. With a stressed huff, she began. "Jason is out in the fields with his ROTC friends."

"And what do you want me to do about that?" You asked, knowing her drunk self couldn't read your sarcastic tone.

"Could you go get him and bring him home?" She said, squeezing your upper arm.

"Are you kidding?" You spat.

"[F/N], he's drunk." She scolded. "Do you want him to get another strike on his record?"

"I don't care." You mumbled under your breath. "Have him call an uber. Hell, let him sleep it off in the field. Not my problem."

"You know what he's like when he's drunk." She rationalized. "He gets rowdy. It had better be you."

You tensed up. "No. Holly and I are going to the French Quarter. I don't have time to babysit Jason."

"Just pick him up on your way there?" She pleaded. "It won't take long."

You knew this wasn't going to stop. "Fine, but this is the last time."

You were both dressed far too well to be trekking through the swampy ass nowhere when you should have been fucking your way through the French Quarter. Luckily for your evening plans, all you needed to do was follow the sound of gunshots.

You slammed the car door shut and Holly followed suit. Finding him was the easy part. The hard part was hauling his drunk ass back home.

"Fun's over, shithead." You announced, heels sinking into the sod as you spoke. You didn't have much trouble projecting over the gunfire and getting their attention.

"Shit, [F/N]?" Jason sputtered, so drunk he could barely keep his head straight.

"Holy shit, I didn't even recognize you in that dress." One of his dumb fuck friends added. He jabbed Jason in the side. "Why didn't you tell me your sister's hot?"

"Buster, I-'' You clenched your teeth. "I don't care if you live or die, but my mom needs me to bring Jason home."

"If you get in the car now, we won't have to use the chloroform." Holly added.

Jason scratched the back of his head with the barrel of his gun, then pointed it at you. "You're gonna have to make me."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You exclaimed, hitting the deck. "What the fuck, Jason!?"

Jason and his dumbass friends laughed. "You should have seen the look on your face, [F/N]!"

"Put down the fucking gun-" You seethed. "And get in the fucking car."

He lowered the gun and looked like he was going to concede. Just when you thought he would cooperate, he stuck it up again. He keeled over in a fit of laughter when you and Holly panicked again.

"Look at them!" He shouted. "They're so fucking scared!"

You knew out in the middle of the swamp, nobody could hear you scream. So you used it to your advantage.

"Jason, you're going in the car, or under it." You raised your voice. "I will mow your drunk ass down like eight day old roadkill right here in this field and you will be LUCKY if anyone finds your bloated, shit-covered remains before the crocodiles get a whiff of you."

That seemed to get his attention.

"Sorry, boys." He pouted. "You heard her."

He had to 'get you' one final time, though. Only that time, the gun went off. Just centimeters from your ear. You clutched the side of your head, trying to drown out the deafening ringing with your screams.

You vaguely remembered Holly pistol-whipping Jason before loading you into the car to drive you to the hospital, leaving him desolate and drunk in the field.

"It was a one-in-a-million shot." The otolaryngologist tried not to sound impressed at what was clearly some kind of anomaly very few got to witness in a medical career. "When the bullet fired, the gunpowder traveled down your ear canal, burning the cells of your auditory nervous system and... singing your eardrum... clean off."

Your eyes widened. "Off?!"

The doctor lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Miss [L/N]. I'm afraid you'll never return to full hearing again."

You didn't want to kill the messenger. You knew she was only doing her job. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"If we could do a tympanoplasty, which, given the condition of the drum, is unlikely-" she began. "There would still be no way to fully repair the hair cells along the ear canal."

You took deep breaths to try and quell your simmering rage. "I'm leaving for Juilliard in three months."

"Hearing aid technology has improved significantly over the last decade." She said, a somewhat hopeful upturn in her voice.

That was when your mother decided to join in on the conversation. "Oh, we can't afford that."

You thought you were going to crush your teeth into bits from how tightly your jaw was clenched in fury. "Take it out of Jason's college fund, then."

"Oh, [F/N]." She said as if you had just told the funniest joke imaginable. "Please. That wouldn't be fair to Jason."

"You can afford to send that blithering idiot to the Citadel." You hissed. "You can afford to buy me a hearing aid so I can play piano."

"Beethoven was entirely deaf." Your mom pointed out. "And he became the greatest composer of all time. It's really just mind over matter, sweetie-"

"Sure, that makes perfect sense!" You plastered on a deranged smile, feeling driven to the brink of madness. "I can repair my destroyed eardrum with the power of positive thinking! Jason gets thirty-five thousand dollars a year to play soldier, but I have to just use my imagination."

She covered her face with her hands as if she was being attacked and went into kicked-puppy mode. "Don't be mad at Jason, [F/N]. He didn't mean to hurt you-"

"Fuck this." You said, releasing all your tension in those two words. "Fuck all of this. I'm tired of you defending that chauvinist asshole. The next time you see me will be when one of us is dead."

"Where are you going?!" She wailed.

You snatched your purse from the table and threw it over your shoulder. "I'm moving out."

“Disgraced at age nineteen?" Master Strange said, leaning back on the piano. "Let me guess, you turned to alcohol to cope?"

"You'd think, but actually no." You shook your head. The tone of the conversation had taken a sharp left turn from sadness to dry, apathetic amusement. "I probably would have if I could have afforded it."

"You missed out." He said. "Drinking a whole bottle of eighty year old scotch was definitely the highlight of my grieving period."

You'd never joined the clauses 'Master Strange' and 'drunk off his ass' in the same sentence before then. It was an odd mental picture for sure. One you needed to see to believe.

"I got desperate." You admitted. "Luckily, New Orleans had a lot to offer someone like me, so I didn't have to go far to find people claiming to have answers. But it was all essential oils, incense, binaural beats-"

"I'm sorry," he cut in. "What kind of dickhead suggests binaural beats to someone with only one functioning ear?"

You threw up your hands. "Right? Doesn't make sense. Anyway, I came across a woman named Mistress Fantina and she pointed me in the right direction. How to heal my body through control of my spirit."

He looked at you with that fascination of the human body characteristic of those in the medical field. "It worked, I assume?"

"I figured it out." You shrugged. "But I got so invested in the Mystic Arts that I forgot all about Juilliard. Became a full-time student. Ever since, I never once thought about returning to my old life."

"I suppose if I'd discovered this world because I had lost, say, my ability to perform surgery, it would be hard to leave it behind and return to the operating room." He thought out loud. Sighing, he closed his hand over his watch. "But no matter how medical science evolves, you can't reverse death."

You let the quiet linger for a moment.

#doctor strange #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #doctor stephen strange #stephen strange #dr stephen strange #stephen strange x you #what if #what if marvel #doctor strange supreme #tw guns #tw abusive parent

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heycallmeladytypewriter · 4 years

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The Call of a Siren

Chapter One

She could not, for the life of her, find her goddamn charger. If she was going to make it the rest of the stupid day without music in her ears which blocked out most of the annoyances, she’d flip a table. Or she would when it was finally unloaded from the moving van on the street.

“Cordelia, would you please come get your brother!” Her mother shrilled from the bottom of the steps.

Delia sighed and flipped off the boxes stacked in her room who refused to give her back her charger before stomping down the stairs. Her little brother, Henry, was tugging on her mother's hair and yelling nonsense only a toddler of age three could understand. She walked past her mother and went straight to the luggage bags from the flight next to the doorway. Spotting her purple carry on, she rummaged through until she found some fruit snacks she packed but never ate. Coming back over, Cordelia waved them in Henry’s face until he took notice and reached for the snack.

Grabbing Henry from her mother and putting him on her hip, “ Mom what do you want me to do with him? Fruit snacks are gonna last about two minutes.”

Her mother threw up her hands, “ I don’t know! Just keep him occupied until we have everything in the house.”

Rolling her eyes, Cordelia fed him a fruit snack one at time trying to buy time until she thought of what to do with him. Most of his toys were still packed and the ones he had on the plane were of no use now as he was now done with them after a 14 hour flight from the States to Japan. Pursing her lips, she thought about seeing a playground not too far from here on the drive.

“Mom, I’m taking Henry for a walk around. Be back in a bit.” Her mother nodded and waved her off from the kitchen.

After wrangling Henry’s shoes and light jacket on, they set off with him still in her arms as she didn’t know where the stroller was in that mess which was her new life. Henry was lightly tugging on her hair and quietly babbling as she walked towards the small playground down the street. She already missed home. Well, previous home as she bounced around enough to never really know one place as home. Army brat problems, she thought with slight disdain. Well actually, detective/police brat? Is there even a word for that?

Her dad was former military but since the age of heroes, the military need was still there of course but not as much as it used to be. Her dad decided to go into police work afterwards when she was seven and has since climbed into a detective which made her mother happy as he was more or less off the streets but still dealt with the hardships of the job. Her mother was actually the one to want to move from the States to Musutafu, Japan.

Thanks to the number one hero, All Might, crime in Japan has lessened significantly which made it a safer place to live in her mom’s eyes. It also helped that her mother had grown up in Tokyo when she was younger before her parents decided to move to Chicago.

Cordelia didn’t have anything against Musutafu but it still was another move, another restart, another everything which isn't too fun when you are fifteen.

“Del, we go swing?” A little voice broke her train of thought as she saw them reaching the playground. She smiled at his nickname for her as he couldn’t pronounce her full name yet. Sometimes it was ‘Del’ or ‘la’ but both always made her smile as it was so cute.

“Sure, bud.” She walked over to the swings and placed him in the little toddler seat. “Ready?” Henry squealed and kicked his feet in excitement. “Ye-es!”

Cordelia started to push him, preparing to do this for some time as Henry could be in the swing for the whole time. It definitely qualified as a workout.

“Tch, stupid Deku.” Cordelia glanced over to see a blonde boy angrily muttering to himself while kicking a rock on the sidewalk. He was wearing some kind of school uniform but all rumpled like he had some kind of fight or fall before walking home.

“Del, keep pushin’!” Henry’s voice broke the silence. She didn’t realize she stopped after watching the boy on the sidewalk. “Sorry, buddy.” She murmured before resuming as she didn’t want to call attention to the fact she was being nosy.

“Oi, what are you looking at?!” The angry boy had unfortunately caught that and was now facing her.

“I’m not looking at anything. Just pushing my brother.” She replied coolly.

“That's what I thought, extra.”

Extra? What was that? “Actually, I was looking at you. Rough day, buddy?” Cordelia shouldn’t have goaded him, a complete stranger, but what the hell was calling her ‘extra?’

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Hey, child present!” Cordelia waved around her brother. Thankfully, Henry didn’t seem to care as long as he was swinging.

“Tch. He can mind his damn business too!” With that, he flipped us off. So she did too. Then he walked off, looking madder than before. Weirdly, she wanted to laugh.

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

After they got back to the house, Cordelia took her slices of pizza that her mother had ordered and slipped upstairs to organize her things a bit more and hopefully locate her freaking charger. Her room was towards the back and furthest from anybody else which she preferred with windows facing the small backyard and back alley street behind the houses. Quiet and isolated with the ability to blast her music a bit without getting yelled at as she liked. She wasn’t a complete loner but did like her space from her nosy family.

She closed the door and plugged in her small dinky radio in, orange and covered in faded stickers from over the years, and found a decent radio station to unpack. Placing her hands on her hips, she faced the boxes and nodded. “ Okay, here we go.” She said sternly to herself. “Don’t get distracted by every little thing and get it over with.”

It was three a.m by the time she got done but she was much further than before. There were still a few scattered boxes she stacked in the corner to deal with later but the essentials and whatnot were out and placed.

Figuring she earned a break, she took out a bowl of water she filled earlier and placed it on her nightstand while sitting criss cross applesauce on her bed.

Breathing deep, she raised her fingers towards the bowl and the water lifted out and into the air.

Cordelia took her time and played with the water, trying to manipulate it into shapes before settling on her go-to weapon: a water whip of sorts. She had earlier set up her old stuffed animals along the furniture in the room and tried to knock them down one by one.

Unfortunately, she whipped too strongly and made a divot in the wall and cut her teddy bear's arm off.

“Aw crap. Sorry Mr. Tubbs.” Whipping the water back into the bowl, she sadly picked up the teddy’s arm off the floor and then looked at the damage on the wall. “Yikes. Gonna cover that up with a poster..” Her dad will kill her for practicing in the house again since she usually damages something.

Cordelia went to one of her leftover boxes to find something to tape on the wall when she found a paper she forgot about crumpled on top.

U.A ENTRANCE EXAM APPLICATION

Biting her lip, she looked over her application she had printed before flying here. That was the one thing she was looking forward to with moving here: to be accepted in one of the world’s top hero schools. She wanted to be a hero more than anything. Unfortunately, her family did not share that dream nor like them very much. Her eyes flicked over to her family’s picture on her dresser, taken a few months ago on Henry’s third birthday, and sighed. Her mother, a prom queen in her day, had her arms around her dads buffed up arm with her wavy dark hair in a long plait down her shoulder. Her dad stood tall and proud over little Henry in his crooked yellow party hat while her sister, Josephine, grabbed their mother’s other arm. Like her mother, Josie held a sort of grace even in a casual stance and small smile with her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Delia stood slightly off to the side, hair unbound and free flowing in the wind, and was held tied to the picture by only Henry’s small hand in hers as if to keep her in place.

Her mother had a quirk of healing small cuts and wounds with water which helped since she was a nurse in the ER. Nothing to scoff at, in Cordelia’s opinion. Her father had a quirk of weapons; particularly the knowledge of them and how they work. Again, nothing to scoff at especially considering his line of work. Her older sibling, Josephine, took after their father but instead of weapons, it was machines like a typewriter or an air conditioner. Pretty useful but she decided that a career in accounting was for her. They didn’t speak much.

Despite having quirks, they resented them. They believed the world would be better without them and hero work was not a true profession to aspire for. Thus, a discovery of your quirk at a young age wasn’t anything to celebrate nor was it encouraged to practice and train other than the bare minimum of control. That did not stop her from wanting to be a hero. Everything about it seemed amazing. She would collect articles about them and hide them in the back of her closet along with a poster or two. She’d watch videos on the internet about all the top heroes and wonder how she could be just like them.

Getting her parents to agree to this...would be so hard. Hence why she printed the paper but never filled it out.

She stared at the divot in the wall for a moment before sighing and placing the paper back in the box.

____________________________________________________________

After only having slept a measly three hours, Cordelia gave up and put on some shorts and a tank top. She snuck outside as her parents and brother would be getting ready soon and she wasn’t ready for any human interaction yet. She was not a morning person in the slightest.

She favorited her new home’s address in her phone since she didn't know the neighborhood or have a specific route around yet. Then she set off.

After thirty minutes of light running, she came upon a beach. A sign on a big rock read ‘Dagoba Municipal Beach Park.’ Cordelia felt her heart explode with joy at the sight. Water was close to her. No, the ocean was close to her!

“Oh my god!” She shrieked to herself. She found her place. This is where she would practice and train and just be and just...breathe. She jogged down the steps to the sand and couldn’t stop herself from giggling from pure happiness. The only sad part was the mountain of random trash and junk off to the left of her on the beach. Hell, maybe she’d move it all just to clear more space or put in a request to the city as she saw refrigerators and car pieces which looked way too heavy for her to just lug.

All of a sudden, a giant boom and junk flew outward causing her to yelp and duck out of the way as a toaster almost took her head off.

“The hell..?” She marched over to the source and stopped cold. A skinny boy looking around her age with a mess of green hair stood in a clearing in the mess. Her brain could only notice that much about him as her focus was being pulled to the shock before the boy.

All Might.

All Might was in front of her.

ALL MIGHT WAS STANDING IN FRONT OF HER.

HOLY AJKFC SHIT!!

Cordelia couldn’t breathe. The number one hero in the world was right there and this boy was familiar with him enough to have a conversation. Holy wow. Thankfully, she was hidden by some of the junk so they didn’t seem to see her.

“..towards being a hero.”

“Um..All this?” The boy looked back worriedly at the junk piled all around him. “But..There’s so much. That’s impossible!”

“ Young Midoriya, you wanna go to UA, right?”

“Well, yeah. Of course! You went there. So it must be the best school around, right? It’s a long shot but still..I’m going to shoot for the moon.” She smiled at the sound of how earnest he was to try. To be honest, it made her want to try to despite her family’s lack of support.

“You’ve got a lot of spirit, fanboy! But, as I’ve mentioned before, Heroeing isn’t easy to do without a quirk. It’s not fair but that's the reality. UA is the hardest hero course to get into. So that means..”

“..that I have to prepare my body for your Quirk really fast. UA’s exam is in ten months!”

Ten months.

Backing away slowly, she turned and ran back to the stairs to grab her shoes before running home.

By the time she got home, she had made up her mind.

After her shower, she grabbed the crumpled application out of the box and a pen off her desk.

She wanted to go to UA and just like the boy on the beach, she was going to shoot for the moon.

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A/N: Hey guys! I decided to take a shot at a fanfiction I’ve had in my head for a while with everyone’s favorite (especially my favorite) angry boy. I could use some beta readers and maybe some coverart if anyone is willing?? Feedback is more than welcome and I plan on updating at least once a week!

#mha #bakugou katsuki #mha fanfiction #bakugo katsuki #bakugo fanfic #bakugou x oc #class 1a #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #midoriya izuku #all might #bakugou smut

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nothingadventured-nothinggained · 5 years

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OitNB Character Updates

Ready to binge the new season of Orange is the New Black but dont want to binge the last season to remember where at your favorite characters are at?

Under the Read More there is updates on where most of the characters left off in the last season. I divided them based on which cell block they’re in when they were in minimum. Also there’s a section on the COs and staff.

Not everyone is covered, specifically none of the new characters we met this season, but I think I covered the majority of them! Also forgive any mistakes; I tried to do my research but any mistakes pointed out will be updated! Enjoy!

‘The Suburbs’ Inmates

Piper Chapman: She’s out of here! After finally getting prison married to Alex in a beautiful ceremony, Piper has gained early release. Cal came to pick her up from prison and brought her back to his home where Neri is making something with chard. She is last seen in Cal’s car, with him asking her what she’s going to do now.

Alex Vause: Alex made a deal with the devil, or more specifically Carol, to get Badison to stop trying to steal Piper’s date. In exchange, Alex would be on Carol’s crew. No clue how things are going to change now that Carol and Barb are dead. She put in an application to law school but got rejected. She is last seen out in the yard playing kickball.

Galina “Red” Reznikov: Red’s been recovering from a rough last season. She got 10 years added on to her sentence for being a riot instigator, after being named by Piper, Freida and Nicky. Thus begins her revenge scheme against Freida. She gets frustrated with Carol because Carol is more focused on inter-block fighting than getting Frieda. Eventually, Red’s family came to visit her with the grandkids for the first time in years but she ruins it by trying to choke out Frieda and gets sent to the SHU. She is last seen joking with Gloria in the SHU.

Tiffany Doggett: After leaving Donuts in the woods, she turns herself back in. She gets to join the ladies in B-Block (”Florida”) after making a deal with Linda. While in Florida she gets close with Suzanne and tries to get her to be more social. She convinced Suzanne to join the kickball team and go out to the yard to play. She is last seen playing kickball outside.

Nicky Nichols: Nicky named Red as an instigator of the riot in order to get out of drug charges (since she took over minimum’s pharmacy during the riot). Red forgave her, however, because she was upfront about it unlike others. Nicky joins Barb’s crew, but she tries to be the voice of reason and peace. Once the moment of the attack happens, she convinces the D-Block girls not to fight. She is last seen playing kickball outside.

Lorna Morello Muccio: Lorna got fully into gang warfare this season but then realized how stupid it was after Piper and Alex’s wedding. Nicky has her hide in a closet in the laundry room so she won’t have to go to the bloodbath of kickball, but Lorna goes into surprise labor. She is last seen in agony being dragged to medical by one of the guards, with blood between her legs.

Frieda Berlin: Been in hiding in B-Block. Super paranoid since Carol, Barb and Red are all after her. Crazy Eyes was acting as her bodyguard, but Frieda told Suzanne that she wasn’t her friend and pushed her away. She was last seen in her cell, smiling and eating a pudding cup.

“The Ghetto” Inmates

Tasha “Taystee” Jefferson: After pleading guilty of being a riot instigator, she went on trial for the murder of Piscatella and was found guilty. She is last seen re-entering into Litchfield, but it is unconfirmed what the sentence will be for the crime. There’s a worry it may be the death penalty, but it’s “extremely rare”.

Cindy “Tova” Hayes: Cindy deals with a lot of guilt because she testified against Taystee, in exchange for immunity for riot charges. After talking with Flaca, she realizes she needs to move on. She is last seen acting as an announcer for the kickball game.

Suzanne “Crazy Eyes” Warren: Suzanne was put in B-Block and develops a close relationship with Frieda and Pennsatucky. She struggled with going out into the yard for fear of the gang war, but ends up joining the kickball team. She is last seen on the field playing kickball.

Sophia Burset: Ends up in B-Block. She decides not to sue FCC since they bribed her with a whole lot of money and early release. She is last seen reuniting with her wife on the outside.

“Spanish Harlem” Inmates

Gloria Mendoza: Gloria got no extra time for the riot, but told the investigators that it was Maria who instigated it. She doesn’t like all this gang warfare, and tries to tell Luschek so he will stop it. Instead, she finds out about Fantasy Inmate and threatens Alvarez to tell everyone about it, so he sends her to the SHU. She is last seen talking with Red in the SHU.

Aleida Diaz: Aleida is currently worried because Daya is getting hooked on the drugs she and Hopper are sneaking in. She eventually decides to give up on Daya in order to save her other kids. It’s unclear if she and Hopper are actually romantically together, or just together until she can get enough money to get her kids back.

Marisol “Flaca” Gonzalez: She is working as the radio DJ for the prison. She and Tova become very close as co-DJs, but she still misses Maritza. She is last seen acting as the announcer for the kickball game.

Dayanara “Daya” Diaz: Daya took a plea for murdering CO Humps. She is assigned to C-Block and starts dating/hooking up with Daddy. She eventually starts to take drugs, initially for the pain of being beaten by guards but then because she becomes addicted. She is last seen in the yard playing kickball.

Maria Ruiz: Maria is still struggling with everything that happened in the last season. She tries to turn to religion, but realizes that no one still forgives her for what happened in the riot so she joins the gang life. Eventually after a talk with the Mormon guard, she realizes she can still be a good person. She gets McCullough to make everyone choose kickball teams so the teams are mixed. She is last seen on the yard playing kickball.

Blanca Flores: Blanca tells the investigators that Maria instigated the riot, in exchange for immunity for riot charges. She learns she’s running out of time to have a baby, so she tries to sneak some of Diablo’s sperm into the prison to get prison. It doesn’t work, but she learns she is getting early release. On the day of the release, she doesn’t leave the prison but is instead put back in cuffs by Immigration and Customs Enforcement. Poor Diablo is left waiting outside of the prison, flowers in hand.

Management/CO’s

Joe Caputo: After the riot, he was put on leave and ran out of things to do. He tried to get his warden position back, but is transferred to Missouri. While packing to move, he starts to get close and invested in Taystee’s case and begins to work with other inmates to file suit against MCC, which causes him to be fired. During all of this, he is strengthening his relationship with Natalie Figueroa. He follows the case and even investigates the CERT team leader who, unbeknownst to him, covered up Piscatella’s murder. Once Taystee is found guilty, he confronts the man who punches him in the nose. He then goes to an MCC party and reunited with Fig. He is last seen getting taken care of by Fig.

Natalie “Fig” Figueroa: Fig finally admits that she is Joe’s girlfriend in this season, while still appearing in public with her gay husband for appearances. She fights with Joe about how he is so interested in the female prisoners even though they have done nothing for him. She is last seen taking care of Joe, who was punched in the nose.

Linda Ferguson: As the new senior vice president of MCC, Linda seems to have learned nothing of her time in the riot and how terribly inmates are treated. She talks about stuffing as many inmates as possible into a prison, uses bribes to stop a lawsuit and makes a completely fake commercial promoting MCC (now PolyCon). She is last seen announcing to a bunch of fancy rich people that the newest moneymaker is in immigration detention centers.

Sam Healy: Healy meets with Caputo at the beginning of the season. He is out of the psychiatric hospital, and now much more mellow. He tells Caputo that he needs to move on from the riot and put Litchfield behind him.

Joel Luschek: While at Max, Luschek becomes commissioner of the Fantasy Inmate team, as well as running the rec class. While teaching rec he gets close to Gloria. Throughout the season Luschek seems to really just not care about anything. He feels guilty that Gloria was put in the SHU after finding his Fantasy Inmate score sheets. He is last seen in a DeLorean (he’s collecting Back to the Future merch) driving away scared that the kickball game will end in a bloodbath.

Artesian McCullough: McCullough is really having a tough time with what happened in the prison. She’s struggling with anxiety, paranoia, insomnia and depression. She snaps at inmates sometimes, and whenever she loses control she is seen putting out lighted cigarettes on her thighs as a form of self-harm. At the kickball game, when Maria tries to put a stop to the bloodbath, McCullough trusts her and seems to slightly get over her fear of inmates.

Charlie “Donuts” Coates: Coates tried to make it work with Pennsatucky on the outside and wants them to escape to Canada, where they can hide out. She ends up leaving him because of his violent nature. He is last seen sleeping in a forest.

Lee Dixon: Dixon joins Coates on his road trip because he thinks Coates is suicidal. Once it is revealed that Pennsatucky is there as well, he actually accepts it and joins them at an amusement park. Once a warrant is put out for her arrest, Dixon leaves. He returns to Max as a CO. He still holds resentment towards some of the inmates for the riot. He agrees with another guard saying that the inmates are animals, but says that “there are some good ones”.

Ryder Blake: Blake returns to Max as a CO, and gets involved in Fantasy Inmate. At the opening party, he smokes pot, eventually saying “What if Joseph Smith made it all up?” After the party he drops out of Fantasy Inmate. He gets close with Maria and works with her through her anger and helps her grow in her religion. He is last seen helping Lorna to medical.

Locations of Others Not Mentioned

Unknown: Miss Claudette, Stella Carlin, Allison Abdullah, Janae Watson, Brook Soso, Maritza Ramos, Mei Chang, Brandy Epps

Inmates Transferred to MCC Cleveland: Norma Romano, Gina Murphy, Yoga Jones, Anita DeMarco, Big Boo, Leanne Taylor, Angie Rice, Shelly Ginsberg, Stephanie Hapakuka, Kasey Sankey, Brandy Epps, Skinhead Helen, Carmen “Ouija” Aziza

Released: Jane Ingalls (compassionate release), Judy King

Psych: Lolly Whitehill

Deceased: Poussey Washington, Maureen Kukudio, Miss Rosa Cisneros, Tricia Miller

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