doctor fawn

anonymous asked:

Hello! I'd like to request hcs on how Chuuya was raised by Kouyou and how Dazai was raised by Mori, please. Like for example, were they strict? Or maybe which habits rubbed off on the boys and whatever else you want to add. Thank you! :)

i think i might have gone a bit overboard with these,, nevertheless, this was really fun! thank you for the lovely request dear! - mikado

Dazai Osamu

. Considering he was raised by the embodiment of logic [quoted by the man himself], it was destined for Dazai to continue the mafia hierarchy and uphold its name through a lot of training and studies. Mori’s characteristic traits are his intellect and his keen eyes [metaphorically and literally] and it can be seen that he recognizes and values Dazai’s potential a lot. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to believe that Mori had made plans to overthrow the previous mafia leader before his actual assassination of the man when he was ill. This leads me to think that Mori planned on making Dazai his right hand man for quite some time, hence why he prepared him for a successful path in the mafia. In short, Dazai was in for a hell of a ride.

. Mori’s ambition to become the new leader was something that young Dazai had noticed, and being the curious kid he is, he once asked why being the boss is so great. In response, Mori gave him a very long essay with detailed arguments written about some of the most well-known and powerful commanders in history. Remember, this is a fourteen to sixteen year old kid we’re talking about. Most people his age today just… read fanfics and cry over exams. He, on the other hand, had to analyze and make a practical model of the war strategy Napoleon Bonaparte used to take over Spain and Germany during his days of glory and write his own version of the tactic which would lead to a more profitable outcome. [ no wonder he wants to die so badly ]

. On chapter 30, Mori mentions to Fukuzawa the names of several well known researchers of theories on war strategies, with John Forman Nash, Henry Alfred Kissinger and Thomas Crombie Schelling to name a few. He does so with a very happy face may I add. Fukuzawa couldn’t identify the above mentioned people as they were foreign, while Dazai grits between his teeth that “Someone imprinted that knowledge on my mind long ago.” This basically shows what Dazai had to put up with during his time spent with Mori. Mori did fulfill all of his educational needs, but he went beyond the point by making Dazai study the works of such people when he was [I cannot stress this enough] only a teen. Okay, sure, it would be illogical for him to study those books in Japanese as well [but since he’s Mori’s diamond in the rough, he’s going to have to undergo a lot of pressure] but to study them in a foreign language as well? He has to understand the terminology of the book, the language the book is written in and also the theme of the book. And he does it so flawlessly.

. So from what you can tell, Dazai had to study a lot. Which is to be expected but that doesn’t mean that I can’t complain about it. It wasn’t always just serious business with Mori though. Dazai did have his free time, although his mentor monitored him during then as well. When not hitting the books, Dazai would usually wander around the headquarters of the Mafia, entering areas forbidden to even the executives through his childish yet very effective lock-picking methods a.k.a, with the help of his trusty sidekick, the hairpin. He lost five to six of them weekly while crawling in the vents, which explained why the guards always found pieces of hairpins stuck between the ventilation fans. Mori never managed to catch him in the act, but he always had a faint suspicion that Dazai knew more than he should, sometimes things that were private matters between him and the leaders of other organizations.  It didn’t worry him much though. If anything, it probably just enhanced his respect for the talented kid tenfold.

. Dazai didn’t hang out much with Q, considering he too was taken under Mori’s care before he became the boss. He never really liked Q, since he was an eerily quiet child who loved to cause mayhem and see other people suffer. Before, he used to think being around people such as Yumeno was a way for him to experience the so called ‘raw emotions’ he begged to feel throughout his entire life, but it didn’t work out very well for him as Q once struck an accidental but heavy blow to the Mafia by going berserk while being taken care of by some supervisors on Mori’s orders. It is then that Q started manipulating his curse more often to his advantage, and when Dazai decided it was best for him to keep his distance.

. Mori often took Dazai with him to accompany him during his shopping sprees for Elise’s new dresses, which often led to Dazai wandering off somewhere on his own while the doctor was too busy fawning over a pair of red shoes to match with the skirt he got for the blonde. He enjoyed those trips, as Mori almost never focused on him during such times and he was at liberty to do whatever his heart pleased.

. Something which is evident in Dazai is that he comes after Ranpo when it comes to deducing things. He’s a very well rounded person with knowledge on a lot of crucial matters, and he’s very analytical thanks to years of practice and passive and active experience in the Mafia. Whether he acknowledges it or not, we cannot deny the fact that Mori had a very influential role on Dazai and his forming as a person from his early teenage years to his adulthood. Therefore, it is certain that he will take some traits from his ‘guardian’ unconsciously. One of the most notable ones is being able to read anyone, especially your opponent, very well. It’s a trick that comes in handy often and I’d take a step further by saying that Dazai took this trait from Mori and polished it, making it practically his very own distinctive characteristic.

Chuuya Nakahara

. Unlike Dazai, Chuuya had the fate of being raised in a more lovable and peaceful environment. I’m not saying Dazai was completely devoid of familiarity and warmth, but Kouyou was a much better parental figure to Chuuya than Mori was to Dazai when it came to health care. Kouyou obviously could tell that Chuuya had a lot of potential to become a very powerful warrior, so she did not hold back the studies and all, but she didn’t limit him to a certain category. The difference between Mori and Kouyou is that Mori was able to distinguish by first glance where Dazai specialized at, so he made him focus on that topic alone, whereas Kouyou allowed Chuuya to explore his options, which eventually lead to him becoming a very powerful martial artist as well as a wine expert. After all, all talk and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

. Chuuya was a generally quiet child who had a visible soft spot for lullabies. It’s a thing that may perhaps be a habit Chuuya has to this day, but whenever he overworked himself during his practice, his sore muscles would bother him a lot, and the only way he could ignore the pain was to do something that would put him in a drowsy state. He first tried reading, but he changed positions every five minutes, which was a very long and painful ordeal. He thought solving puzzles would help him concentrate on something other than the numbness taking over his back, but he got frustrated when two pieces wouldn’t fit together, so that didn’t work out too well either. His last ray of hope was taking a very long bubble bath so what while resting in the tub, he’d fall asleep. Fortunately, he didn’t have to resort to drastic measures, as Kouyou noticed his fatigue and kept him close to her, singing him to sleep with a soft melody.

. If you think about it, maybe it’s one of the reasons why Chuuya has a good voice. I mean, usually genetics and fate do their own thing, but perhaps practicing a song while he helped her out with her work or whenever they went out for walks together was what helped him warm his vocal cords at first. Although he would be a bit shy to start the song off himself, he would gladly accompany Kouyou as her second voice. Slowly he’d memorize different tunes, and whenever he’d have nightmares from the horrors he might’ve seen during practice or while in the HQ, he’d hum them until he felt sleep take him away. [ my poor little kitten]

. Kouyou helped Chuuya gain control of his ability by using a number of different methods, testing the waters and checking which one was the safest and most effective for the time being. During his early days, Chuuya had difficulties maintaining his balance while floating, and he owes the Mafia quite a sum for the havoc he wrecked due to his inability to aim and crush his compressed gravity spheres. He’s paid off his debts, but he won’t forget his childish attempts to master his power, which lead to a lot of shenanigans.

. He was a very adventurous kid, so he’d usually run off from his room without Kouyou’s permission and would hide behind walls while a scene was unfolding before him or would eavesdrop in order to gather more information about the mafia. He liked to associate himself with the older divisions within the organization, sometimes managing to witness a few of their operations going by unnoticed. What he saw would sometimes thrill him and terrify him simultaneously, as he admired his higher-ups and looked at them with respect, but there was a voice at the back of his head which kept nagging him on and on, saying things such as ‘What would happen if I had been in that person’s place?’. When his thoughts got too crowded, he hurried off back to Kouyou, where he’d sit by her side and quietly sip his tea.

. Chuuya’s actually a very polite and well-behaved individual, from what you can see through his actions. He respects his elders and does not question his loyalty to them, as well as the fact that he treats his subordinates as his equals rather than as lowlife inferior to him. He genuinely cares about them as well, shown by his contempt towards Q and his actions and his immediate approval of killing him, if he could. That’s one of the main lessons that Chuuya has learnt from Kouyou; he has rich morals and a very complex and colorful personality, which if you have the luck to study, will definitely make you look at him from a different perspective.

. BONUS: Small chuu chuu sleeps in grape pjs. Pass it on.


Emmett Cullen imagine requested by anon! “Hello, lovely! I want to request an imagine in which the reader is Bella’s older sister and she starts working at Forks hospital with Carlisle as her boss. One day at work Emmett goes to the hospital to say something to Carlisle, and he meets the reader. They both have awkward reactions like ‘damn he/she is hot’ and then they start having a flirty conversation, until he promises her to visit other day” Hope you like it!

There was a surplus of stable, peaceful occupations in Forks, Washington. Even working in the emergency room, you found your days occupied not in broken femurs or bloody accidents, but in rearranging office supplies in the many monochromatic containers scattered about the reception desk. It wasn’t that there was no action in the town; sure, some of the teens came in with concussions and every now and then a woman would give birth, but it was about as far from the hustling chaos of hospitals you were accustomed to. The days filtered in through the windows, sunshine streaked with gray, diluted by the waterlogged clouds drifting lazily through the sky. Your shifts seemed hours longer than you anticipated. It was quiet, most days, and rather tedious. No one in town was reckless enough to need stitches, which, essentially, rendered your coworkers and yourself useless.

Bella provided most of your entertainment. Your little sister could be counted on for scrapes, bruises, broken bones, blood loss, fainting spells, anything… and she always managed to do it herself. She had recently found herself stuck between her truck and an oncoming van, which was quite the experience at the office. It finally gave your coworkers the opportunity to stretch their legs. To say you didn’t panic was a lie; your little sister could have been mush on the sidewalk. She could have had to be scraped off the side of that God-awful Crowley kid’s car. Somehow, she managed to escape with no more than a bump on the head. Leave it to Bella to find trouble in Forks. She was your most frequent flier out of all of the townspeople. Bella sliced her finger chopping onions. Bella fell down a flight of stairs and sprained her ankle. Bella attempted to walk like a regular bipedal human and ended up bruising her tailbone. Most days you were able to drive her home when your shift ended. Charlie was never surprised.

Bella offered more than just an excuse to practice medicine; her relationship with your boss’ son allowed for rather liberal small talk. While most of the nursing staff was fawning over Doctor Cullen’s inconceivable good looks and chattering away to each other about how desperately they wanted him to leave his equally beautiful wife, you were able to see him as your sister’s boyfriend’s father. Not that you would have made a move if Bella hadn’t snagged Edward. Carlisle wasn’t… like that to you. He didn’t fit that mental image. Something about him was far too… old for your liking. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-five, but his manner of speaking was practically ancient. There was charm, of course, but it was so entirely respectful that it couldn’t have possibly been bred of this era. As one of the few members of your lazy organization who wasn’t trying to woo him and the only member whose sister visited regularly (both the hospital and the Cullen family home), he tended to gravitate to your side. Outside of Edward, Esme, and Rosalie, you hadn’t met the rest of his family quite yet. If they were anything like Bella described and anywhere near as glorious as Carlisle, you were sure you’d get along just fine.

You were seated behind the reception desk, absentmindedly toying with the filing cabinets hidden by your feet. Leafing through patient files was technically illegal, but since you weren’t reading anything on said files, you considered this pass-time appropriate. You’d misplace a manila folder to force yourself to reorganize the entire bin, you’d drag your thumb over the bindings to create the dullest form of music ever to grace the human ear, anything to make the clock move faster. While you were in the process of maintaining your sanity, a stranger had rested his forearms on the counter, awaiting your attention. By the time you noticed him, he was already smirking, amused by your mindless movements. His skin was pale, but nowhere near sickly. Your first thought was that he was visiting someone in the ward, but you were fresh out of patients. Your eyes connected with his, and upon seeing the melted butterscotch of his irises, you understood; this was one of the doctor’s sons. Working solely off of Bella’s description, you attempted to identify the smirking stranger. Your gaze dropped to his hulking form, the thick bands of muscle wrapped around his neck and shoulders giving him away almost instantly. Bella had spoken quite frequently of Edward’s monster truck of a brother before, and the first few words from between his blushing lips sealed your assessment in concrete.

“Having fun, princess?” He grinned, a wicked, mischievous grin, his amber eyes sparkling with intrigue. “Sorry, am I interrupting? I just thought I’d introduce myself. It’s not often I run into someone as beautiful as you are. I’m-” You cut him off, meeting his hand over the surface of the counter, his icy skin matching his father’s to a tee. If you hadn’t been so familiar with this supposed lack of circulation, you likely would have been alarmed. You’d probably admit him, actually. He was cold as clay.

“Emmett Cullen. I’m Y/n, Bella’s sister. She’s told me a lot about you. Nice to finally match a face to a name.” Emmett raised his brow, his teeth snagging his lower lip as his eyes raked over your face.

“Well, Bella left out a few details when she told us about you. I didn’t think you’d be so…” His voice trailed off, his hands clenching and circling as he attempted to find the proper wording to describe you. “So… unbelievably attractive. I mean, you’re…” He shook his head, watching you roll your eyes in mock frustration. Your heart was hammering in your chest at the very thought of charming this stunning man. If you hadn’t known any better, you could have sworn he could hear it too. There was something about the way his eyes flickered to your cheeks to check your blush that had you believing your pulse was as deafening to him as it was to you.

“Be still, my heart,” you whispered, sarcasm seeping through every syllable. Emmett threw his head back, filling the near-silent waiting room with sounds a hospital rarely encounters. His bellowing laughter ricocheted from the colour-cleached walls, his lips pursing as he contained his humour. “You’re quite the charmer. But… you’re not here to slide me pick-up lines, are you?” He opened his mouth to speak, his eyes shimmering with his next attempt at your heart, but your conversation was interrupted by the opening of the emergency room doors. Carlisle, in his pale golden glory, waltzed through, his gait as fluid as if he were dancing to your desk. His hand smoothed over the counter, unintentionally calling attention to the identical complexion he shared with his adopted son. Come to think of it, Edward’s skin was exactly the same colour of unrealistic white. Not… cadaverous, but not exactly healthy either. Carlisle offered a smile, his face illuminating with genuinity.

“I see you’ve met my son. I hope he’s been behaving himself,” the doctor’s voice hushed on the last word, his eyes drilling into Emmett’s as if to test his resolve like a parent staring down a child they know has lied. Emmett smirked, reconnecting with your gaze.

“It’s a shame we didn’t meet sooner. We should have her over for dinner sometime.“ He winked, licking his lips seductively. Carlisle sighed, the breath rushing from his lungs at his son’s blatantly sexual bravado.

“Emmett, that’s… hardly appropriate,” there was the typical reverb of authority in Carlisle’s voice, but something about the way in which he spoke his son’s name made you think he was used to this sort of social breach. Almost like Carlisle had no power to control his son’s manners, like he wouldn’t even bother attempting to redirect the course of the conversation. You hardly minded.

“I’d love to meet the rest of your family. Bella’s been saying such great things,” you added, hoping to somewhat neutralize the situation. Emmett winked, leaning his heavily muscled arm against the counter, leaning in your direction. Carlisle offered a smile, stiffer than you were accustomed to, coming from him.

“Yes, we’ve heard much of you as well. Unfortunately, my son Jasper,” he made very distinct eye contact with Emmett, who ground his teeth in defeat. “Has taken rather ill. He’s in no shape to be seeing anyone. Perhaps some other time?” You nodded slowly, returning the doctor’s friendly grin. He rubbed his hands together, parting his lips to speak. Before any sound was released, his son’s voice was filtering through the air.

“Just the two of us, then.” You blinked, quite dimly, unable to respond to Emmett’s so obvious proposal. He chuckled under his breath, his honey eyes glinting beneath the florescents. “I can pick you up later on tonight, if you’re game. I’m sure Carlisle could let you go an hour early.” It slipped passed your mind how odd it was for Emmett to be addressing his father by his first name, but to be honest, your thoughts were otherwise occupied. Your eyes flashed to Carlisle, silently asking his permission, prompting a quick surrender.

“That’s fine, Emmett. Y/n, I can have you out by seven, no earlier. We have a couple coming in for an induction, I’ll need you.” He turned to face his son, whose smile lit the blood in your veins aflame as easily as if your heart had been pumping gasoline. “Not too late. We’re heading out early tomorrow morning.” Emmett smiled, his teeth gleaming dangerously.

“Will do. I’ll see you,” he pointed a finger in your direction, backing away from the counter, his features morphing somewhat to display his confident excitement, “at seven. Oh, and Carlisle,” he paused, redirecting his gaze, his hands still raised in the air, this time aimed in his father’s general direction. “Alice says six tomorrow.” Carlisle nodded subtly, bidding his son farewell. Emmett caught your eye one last time before ducking through the door, winking conspicuously before racing off towards an intimidating jeep. You could have been imagining it, or perhaps you were overtired, but it seemed like his figure had blurred just before he reached the driver’s side door. You had no idea what you’d gotten yourself into, but as Emmett drove away, leaning heavily on his horn, you were sure you’d have the time of your life. And dinner sounded great… even if it meant something else entirely to your date.


Fic of the Month! (August)

Green Doe Eyes by AngKeats


“Can I fix you?” Louis asked as Harry looked over at him, eyes wet and red, tip of his nose pink and cute. He licked his plush lips and nodded.

Louis let out a thankful sigh and reached for Harry’s hand, ignoring the way Harry flinched when they touched.

He stripped off the useless bandage and winced at the re-opened wounds. He noticed the blood under Harry’s fingernails and realised he’d scratched at them until they bled.

“Harry…” He whispered, tears coming to his own eyes as he felt Harry tremble under his touch, eyes averted shamefully as he swallowed his tears away determinedly. “No, don’t be scared, it’s okay,” Louis assured. “I’m not going to judge you…I just need to protect you,” he explained.

Trigger Warnings : Some scenes with blood, Implied/Referenced Self-harm

anonymous asked:

TBH I'm expecting the next doctor to be a white guy just to be safe and because that's clearly what the majority of doctors are gonna be. I'm also scared that if they do cast somebody else they're gonna fuck it up and do it in a very cringey way since the writers are also majority male and white or just throw us this one Diverse Character™ and forget about it. I'd also have a man of color over a woman because I'm genuinely afraid of the writers making it very straight or feminized to compensate.

If they DO cast a white man (still hoping they don’t), I’ll only watch if this dude is EXTREMELY charismatic, and the Doctor is written as humble and loving again. Like back when the Doctor would fawn over humanity and would never hype himself up; only others would do that.

I understand the anxiety over them fucking up a woman Doctor. I would be out of there SO fucking fast if they gave her a man as a love interest- like SO fast. Gone.

I’d love a man of color as the Doctor, and I guess I only would prefer a woman to play the Doctor because I’m a lesbian and, yknow, I love stuff that focuses on women! But I’d rather a man of color too, if they’d have an easier time writing him. But really, their writing team needs to diversify before we get some REALLY good content with diverse people, yknow? Doctor Who isn’t some rinky dink little British show anymore; it’s global, and we deserve MORE from the show at this point, in my opinion.