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cyb3rscoups · 1 year

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Pretty Woman AU (part 5️⃣)

Explicit content MDNI 18+ content

Don’t worry, your feelings will be fixed

Full Collection Here

The next few days, it became quite rare for Okoye to leave her tiny one bedroom. All memories of Attuma were stuffed to the darkest corner of her closet as a hopeless attempt to forget.

She waited until the money ran out to start hanging out around the corners she knew again. Nakia was by her side when she cried in her arms after her first night back.

“I miss him.” She would sob as Nakia wiped streaks of mascara away and applied ice to any bruises left from the night.

“Well if he really loves you, he’ll be back.”

The sentiment stayed with her as the days brought her guilt and the nights nearly killed her. If he loves her, he’ll come back for her.

———

Once back in New York, Attuma couldn’t believe how un productive he’d been since the day he let Okoye go.

He told himself that she needed the space, that maybe this was best for her to be apart from him after all.

“Okay. Who should I be sending the apology flowers to this time?”

“What?” Attuma looked up from the list of papers that needed his signature.

In front of him stood his assistant Shuri, who only smirked. “The guilt is obviously eating you alive as always. What’s her name and what should I send her?”

“Nothing. Don’t bother. She hates me.”

Shuri chuckled. “More reason to send them-“

“Shuri, I said don’t. Not everything can be fixed with something so simple.” Attuma grumbled, beginning to sign the stack.

Shuri was shocked. Usually, she already had a list of names and I’m sorry notes ready to be shipped off but this was definitely unlike him.

“Okay…so she meant something to you and that cold heart of yours?”

“Yes. She means everything. I just fucked it up as always. So don’t send anything, it won’t help.”

The woman’s jaw could drop at the words coming from his mouth right now. “Who are you and where is my boss?”

“Not now, Shuri. Seriously.” He grumbled, dismissing her completely as his heart cracked a bit more in his chest.

———

“No, don’t do this to yourself Ko-Ko. It’s not right.”

“I gotta do something with my life or I might just die in that bed.” Okoye shrugged Nakia off as she zipped up her boots and pulled another skimpy ensemble over her body.

“We got enough for at least another month. Just take some time and heal!”

“From what!” She snapped, whipping her head around to yell at her friend. “Tell me what the fuck I need healing from!”

“From him! You said so yourself, you love him. So get your ass in that bed and sulk for weeks if you have to! There’s nothing out there on those streets that’ll help you, trust me!”

“I’m going. Cause if I spend one more night in this shitty ass apartment crying over him, I might as well take a knife to the throat right now!”

“Okoye-“

“Don’t do this to me. I’ll be perfectly fine.”

With a slam of the splintered door behind her, Okoye was off. Tears burning her waterline and all.

She went to her usual spot as the night began to get lively. The girls around her were already hopping into convertibles and trucks ready to make what they needed. But even in the center of it all Okoye found herself shying away.

What was she thinking? She wasn’t made for this and after meeting Attuma, she could never go back to how it used to be. She’d go back home, she would apologize to Nakia, and she would figure out another way to make the ends meet.

She made a move to turn back down the street when a blaring honk shook her nerves.

Dead center of the road and blocking little traffic, there was a familiar black limo making the sound.

Her chest tightened as the sunroof peeled back and Attuma’s head popped out with a gleaming smile.

“Okoye!” He shouted, making everyone who knew her stop and stare, everyone who didn’t was left to wonder.

“What are you doing?” Okoye choked back a sob as he disappeared into the car again, opening the door and stepping out.

“You’re crazy if you thought I would last with out you.” In his hands were a bouquet of her favorite gladiolus.

“What happened to New York?”

“Stop asking fucking questions and get over here, woman.”

———

He was so warm and heavy against her. Her hand running through his hair as she listened to his soft snores.

This is what was missing. This sense of home. His arms wrapped tightly against her waist and his cheek resting on her chest.

They laid in the familiar bed of the hotel penthouse. After visiting her apartment with Nakia and fishing out some clothes, they were off to the only place they could think.

“I missed you.” She mumbled. “I love you, Attuma.”

The low snoring stopped as he shifted. “I love you, Okoye.”

She hoped he couldn’t hear how fast her heart beat sped up, too bad for her, he could feel it pounding in his ear.

“I did what I said I would.” He groaned, shifting his head to kiss the space he laid. “Got you a place in New York with me.”

“Attuma-“

“Let me finish…”

He was awake now, loosening his grip around her and lifting his weight as she took a deep breath.

“Never in my life have I met someone that left me so happy all the time.” His hands moved to her sides, going to remove her night gown.

Okoye gasped as he went to pull it up past her thighs, her hands quick to grab his and push them away. He hadn’t seen her yet. He couldn’t. The bruises would make him crazy.

“What is it sweetheart?”

“I just- Let’s just talk okay?” She gave him a smile, placing her hand to his cheek.

“What are you hiding? Did they hurt you out there?”

Her silence told him the answer and immediately, it was like she could see the steam from his ears.

“He hated that I started crying afterwards…”

“Okoye-“

“Don’t pity me like you do. The money wasn’t gonna last forever and Nakia snuck most of it away to feed her pimp.”

“That’s why I need to get you out of here. Come on, princess. Let me take care of you. All the bills will be paid, all expenses covered. You and I can be together with nothing in our way.”

“That’s a fairytale.”

“It can be real if you say yes. Say yes, Okoye.”

Attuma adjusted so he sat up on his knees, his figure towering over Okoye as she laid.

He fixed her legs to wrap his waist and drug her closer to him. He kept her eyes as his hands worked her panties to the side, pressing his thumb to her clit.

“Say yes, baby. You’ll let me love you, right?”

“Yes.” She gasped as waves of pleasure rolled down her spine. “Yes, Attuma. Take care of me.”

“That’s it, pretty girl. Relax for me. I’ll take care of you.”

“Daddy..” She clutched his wrist for dear life as he worked her open and his fingers dipped into her arousal.

He held the glistening digits up before taking them between his lips with a groan. “Missed you so much.”

“Missed you too.” She cupped his cheeks, bringing him down to meet her lips as he fingered her open.

She could feel him hardening against her as his tongue tangled with hers, his fingers picking up as she clenched around him tighter.

“Attuma..”

“I know.” He moved to her neck, sucking in a bruise. “You’re on me like a fucking vice.”

“Oh my- daddy!” She yelped, going to grab at his hands as her thighs tightened around his waist.

“Relax, princess. Relax. It’s okay.” He shushed her as her orgasm washed over her with a moan and a tear down her cheek. “Mm how’s that feel?”

“So..good..but-“

“But?” He raised a brow, his lips tugging up into a smirk. “Not enough?”

“No. I need you. Now. Inside.”

“Oh baby. Is that how you ask?”

Okoye squirmed as she rolled her hips against his poking erection. “I don’t wanna..” She whined.

“It’s quite simple actually. Just a little ‘daddy please’ will suffice.” Attuma chuckled, kneading her breast through her gown and toying with her nipples.

She whined again, debating taking him into her own hands so she wouldn’t have to sound so pathetic when she did ask.

“Daddy please? I need you inside..please.”

“That’s good, princess.” He smiled, working on maneuvering his bottoms down to free his aching length.

She salivated at the sight, wanting him to fill her up sooner than later.

“Condom. You got one?”

“For what?” Her brows furrowed.

“Ko, you went back-“

“And I’m clean. Head to toe, I swear. And hell, I don’t mind having your babies either.”

A growl pulled from his throat as he lined up at her entrance. “You don’t lie to me, understand?”

“Y-yes.” Her eyes blew open and her back arched deliciously as he fell into her at once.

His groan resounded in her ears as her vision blurred with tears. “Oh I missed you so fucking much…God you fucked me up, Ko.”

All she could do was moan as her body jolted with each thrust. It felt like home. He was made for her and vice versa. How they went so long without knowing each other, they don’t know.

What mattered now, is that this was home.

“D-daddy!” She gasped, pressing a hand to her belly as he watched her cunt swallow him with every runt of his hips. And when he pulled back out, he was glistening wet.

“Goddamn..” He muttered as he felt a tingling creep up on him. “Say my name, woman.”

“Shit Attuma!” She cried, her face screwing in ecstasy as her legs locked around him. “So fucking good…”

“Mmm Say it again and I’ll give you what you want. Fuck you full of my babies. That sound nice?”

“Yeah..ooh.” She clawed at his arms as her head rested back on the pillow and her mouth was held open as she let all sounds spill from her throat.

“Attuma..” She whimpered again.

“Good.” He leaned down to meet the column of her neck, peppering kisses everywhere he could. “So good.”

His eyes screwed shut as he narrowed in on her pussy squeezing him tight and pulling him in. If he focused hard enough, he could cum right there, no warning.

“Oh daddy! Fuck me!”

“The hell do you think I’m doing? Huh?” He dealt her a particularly hard thrust that sent her over the cliff she was dancing on.

She could feel her legs shake as she soaked his abdomen and his thrusts came to a halt as her juices spilled onto the sheets

“Holy shit..” He grinned as she looked on in shock.

“Did I just-“ Her legs quivered as her high died down.

“You did. And you’re gonna do it again.” He gripped her legs up, lifting them to rest on his shoulders as he began to pick up his pace.

Okoye yelped at her sensitivity, bringing a hand to his stomach in effort to make him let up. She was only given a slap to her wrist and a cruel chuckle.

“Move your hand. We’re gonna get this pussy nice and satisfied before our flight in the morning. Don’t mind if you squirt a few times, do you?”

“A few?!” She squeaked.

“Oh pretty baby..I’ve been without you for a week. I’ve got some work to do.”

@theeblackmedusa @tvreadsandsleep @pilesofpillows @xblackreader @mamajankyy @dontruinmymorning @attoye

#alex livinalli #attuma #attoye #attuma x okoye #attoye fanfic #black panther #wakanda forever #danai gurira #mcu okoye #okoye x attuma #attuma smut #pretty woman #attoye fluff #attoye smut

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giantchasm · 2 months

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WOE ASKS BE UPON YE

🕸️🦋🥀 for Peony (no i'm not evil wdym)

HEHEHE. Don't worry, I'm evil, too. You've no need to hide.

🕸️ (Spiderweb) - Create a bouquet inspired by your OC! It can be based on their color palette, flower language and symbolism, whatever they like best, or any combination of the three.

Well, obviously there have to be peonies. That one's just kind of a given. As I mentioned in my design for her all grown up, tulips (blue ones, specifically) and crocus have sentimental meaning for her— having originally had sentimental meaning for various members of her family, so they'd have to be there too!

But aside from the more obvious ones... I think she'd also have forget-me-nots (With her seeing it as her duty to remember and honor those that have passed), white lilies, lotus and asphodels (for similar reasons), hydrangeas (representing family roots and persevering love but also arrogance and boasting, which... yeah), and hollyhocks (for ambition).

Is that too many flowers for one bouquet? What's the like... standard for this sort of thing? I suppose going over-the-top in that regard just makes sense considering where she comes from, though.

Interestingly, Peony is moreso associated with dead flowers than living ones, though. So perhaps all of these would be a little bit withered!

🦋 (Butterfly) - Does your OC ‘fear the reaper’, so to speak? If they fused with Morpho Knight, what sort of form would they take on?

Peony has a... complicated, abnormal relationship with death. Not only did she have a near-death experience she blocked out and got superpowers from, giving her the impression that she's some kind of invincible magical girl who can do whatever she wants and escape unscathed, but she's also surrounded by dead people. Death isn't a concept to her in the same way as it is to us, because, "Oh! My friends over there are dead and they're still hanging out with me :)." She sees it as just another stage of life.

That said, her disregard for death's severity also leads to a blatant misunderstanding of its permanence. Not only does she believe she'll never die- or that if she does she'll "find a way out of it," but one of her main goals in life is to find a way to resurrect the ghosts and bring them back for Realsies. She will not listen to anyone when they tell her that is not going to happen.

She's met Morpho Knight a few times. Mostly because of her stubborn defiance and insistence on spitting in death's face.

The first time she ever met it was shortly after her near-death experience. It was extremely angry with the ghosts for intervening in that and threatening to whisk them away to Hades for daring to interfere with the mortal world, but Peony overheard, barged into the conversation and said that if Morpho Knight should punish anyone it should be her, since she was the one who was supposed to die!

It went "okay" and tested her resolve, but when she didn't back down ultimately it didn't have the guts to kill the kid. Stupid Kirby made it go soft. It left, merely giving the group a slap on the wrist and a firm warning to "never break the rules again."

...However, this was Peony's first lesson in learning that she could get away with breaking the rules and only steeled her resolve. She hasn't known the meaning of the word "no" since.

Morpho Knight watches her from a distance, simultaneously admittedly curious about her powers and also wanting to make sure she doesn't get up to too much trouble with them. Occasionally it'll intervene and go "HEY. DON'T FUCKING DO THAT." if she like. Rips someone's soul out of their body and nearly kills them, but for the most part it actually leaves her be.

That said, if she were to ever try and actually go through with her plan to resurrect the dead people, Morpho Knight can and would stop her by force. For all it's softened over the years, it still has a job, and that job is maintaining the balance of life and death. If she were to attempt to undo that balance it would show her none of the same mercy it showed her as a child. It could and would kill her, and eventually it makes this ultimatum known. It's something that very much frustrates and depresses her, because she loves the ghosts a lot and feels like they they're depending on her

But they tell her she's already done so much for her and that she doesn't need to feel bad. Really... they never had the same hope that could ever happen that she did. They had their chance. They lived their lives. They made their mistakes and there's not much they can do about it now. They're lucky to even have a way to communicate with people. They wouldn't ask for more.

I think, in part, the reason Morpho Knight is relatively lenient with Peony is that it's 'training' her. When her own death eventually arrives it thinks her powers could certainly be put to interesting use as a minor grim reaper. She's an apprentice of sorts, even if she doesn't realize it.

I'd love to draw you a Morpho!Peony, but I have like 800 things to illustrate and art has been taking me a ridiculous amount of time to finish recently so that will not be happening. Just have to use your imagination, I suppose.

🥀 (Wilted Rose) - Do they have a Soul form? What would it look and act like? How much control over themselves do they have? Is it still possible to save them, or are they too far gone?

I actually already answered this one! Something-something great (evil) minds think alike ahahaha.

#i'll get around to answering the glock questions #as well as the questions for a few other kirby characters i have in my inbox soon #but life has been hectic so one thing at a time #just know i Will do it eventually

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bad4amficideas · 1 year

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you are GIVING us stuff todsy man!!! can we get some more hcs (if possible) of Two-face, Riddler and Poisin Ivy? you can choose who to do if three is too much for you ☺

I'm posting random drafts. incomplete. And so. English with translator. I suppect this maybe even double posted. Uhm. Sorry for the inconvenience.

I've writing pre Two-Face in my previous post so here only Two-Face version.

Poison Ivy

Although she doesn't show it, of all the maniacs throwing drugs at her, Bats feels cautiously (paranoidly) intimidated by Ivy (lots of sex pollen fics in their previous life and little time for sex in this life if that's they cares about it). Already in case their costume is fully masked and therefore with filters (Spoiler and Black Bat Type) but every time they faces Ivy they does not allow themselves to be touched afterwards and they decontaminates before changing.

But in the face of Ivy, Bats treats her exactly the same as Joker, Penguin or Black Mask of course. Which Ivy doesn't know if it offends her greatly or pleases her because you already know "the hammer of justice is unisex"

The fact that Bats is not seduced by pheromones does not mean that Ivy does not flirt, it helps to make the robins furious (and if they are hooked on top of that, lust-hate is a bomb that clouds their thoughts)

Batfam hated that Ivy would "go over to the neutral-good side". You can't imagine how much she comes to visit.

Ivy in her villainous days sent messages in the language of flowers to Bats. Complex messages of the type that not only the color but the number of flowers and certain positions or pairs count. I think I already said out there that Bats is "Dandelion" (affectionate).

Deep down all villains want attention because what's the point of leaving clues if not???

It means a lot to her that your relationship has been formed without drugs or seduction.

Two Face

Bats' problems with Two-Face come when his "bad" personality stands out, obviously.

That being said, EVERYONE would rather have them stand out or be completely shut down than hear them BOTH argue about whether or not to kill Bats. They are like the angel and the demon of Kronk. And it's your turn to be Kronk. A very confused one.

I don't know why, but I imagine it half burnt, meat, red. And apart from the bicolor suits, using gray suits and red shirts. Don't ask. The villains of this Bats I think lean towards red.

Two-Face enjoys kidnapping Y/N Wayne and attempting psychological torture (I remind you that this side does NOT know that Y/N is Bats, the good guy does)

He never gets it so he ends up being like a kid who yells for your attention (and hits you, too). If you try to be patient and bring out his friendly side, he will make fun of you, as Harvey pleas for you (a bit Overreacting, gotta tell you, he ain't dumb, Harvey). If you don't get upset for once, however, he'll get mad because he'll think you don't care for him. Figures.

I personally think you prefer the Batman-Two Face relationship (OMG I turned this into Ladybug dinamics, kill me). Harvey will stay relatively low so as not to give you away, and your relationship is a totally different one as self-respecting opponents, although between us Two-Face is sadomasochistic everything Harvey hated getting bullied as a kid.

He likes to speak in absolutes. You spend your time speaking in gray. You are both stubborn as mules, no one wants to hear you argue when you are in a intellectual streak (everyone thanks Two-Face and his coin that there are not many of these situations), the minions (it takes me hours to remember this word, damn it) prefer to force the situation and hope for the best. Don't eat their heads, just break them.

Riddler

If you're waiting for Batman 2022!Riddler, stop reading now, sorry (I haven't seen The Batman YET, I don't like how Pattison plays Bruce, Batman is good though)

You always try to sneak him a job to rehabilitate him. It does not work. Actively the one you try to rehabilitate the most.

In Earth-1T8 he has also created an Oracle-style cyber identity. You even have him in the soup. Between hacks and crashes he and Barbara have made your Batcomputer have mazes and minotaurs at the back doors.

Literally, if he is very bored sometimes he hacks all the satellites in the world to change a letter to a symbol or some extremely irritating nonsense (this is how he starts and works his way up to destroying the world economy if he is not listened to. Listen to him)

So you have your "unwritten rules" of "hey Bats, BaTs, BATS I have one new" "I'm coming Ed, don't kill/cause the death of anyone" "OK"

If he didn't put lives on the line to get attention and increase the difficulty of his puzzles, which is fucking stressful, you'd consider him a friend.

Everybody knows. Still Harley beat him in "frienemy n1". There is a disagreement between the two of them about that and whether or not Harley is still a villain although they get along pretty well.

Riddler is the first on fall -intellectually- in love with you. And he knows your secret identity. And he strongly suspects that you are 1. a rejuvenated any of your parents (this one saw Detective Conan), 2. a time traveler (almost!). 3. Clairvoyant or telepathic. He really leans towards the second option. What is terrifying.

And he kindly takes your identity into account when he programs his riddles. Another of the unwritten rules, there are things that ARE RESPECTED.

Have you ever told him, more seriously than jokingly, why don't you meet in a cafeteria to talk instead of meeting like this. The most critical hit, always leaves him baffled.

#earth 1t8 #👾.txt #bat!reader

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flowersdaggersviolasandblood · 9 months

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Flower Girl

Name: Pero Ophiin (She/Her)

Race: Wood Half-Elf

Class: Druid (Circle of the Land)

Background: Outlander

WARNING SPOILERS AHEAD!

So let's get back to our favorite Druid bby, and OH BOY DOES THINGS GET ROUGH FOR POOR PERO! So, we were able to find Last Light Inn and get in good with the Harpers and Jaheira. She informed up to speak with Isobel, a Cleric of Selune who has been protecting the Inn with the Moonmaidens' light. She was able to bless Pero and her current group consisting of Astarion, Lae'zel, and Shadowheart. Pero tried to get more information about the Shadow Curse from Isobel, something that she clearly deflected to answer. But before we could continue our journey to Moonrise Towers, we were met with some terrible guests.

Marcus, a currently now ex-Flaming Fist flies into the inn demanding that Isobel come with him to Moonrise Towers. Pero was able to sus out that Isobel is needed alive at Moonrise and that she is to be delivered at any cost. Pero, obviously, refuses to give her up to the Absolute, which results in a fight to protect Isobel against Marcus and some undead fiends. Now, to be honest, I have done 3 attempts of this (technically 4, but my computer decided to crash and force me out of the game, so it doesn't count lol) battle and each of them always resulted in Isobel getting captured. Which, considering what has happened to Pero the last time I spoke about her, I think this extra bit of tragedy is a turning point for her.

With Isobel gone, the light barrier that's been protecting Last Light Inn dispels and turns all the Harpers into Shadow Cursed zombies, including Dammon! Despite Jaheira informing Pero that these individuals were no longer who they were in life, it was exceptionally difficult for Pero to cull these people, especially when it came to killing Dammon. After the tragic battle, the lose of old friends, the missing friends who were kidnapped by more of the Absolute's servants; I can imagine Pero just bawling. Everything she did in ACT 1 for the Tieflings was basically undone as most of them are either dead or taken. Then there's the Harpers, which, while she hasn't spoken or known them for long, they were still good people trying to do a good deed.

This is what breaks Pero and makes her reconsider not consuming the parasites they've encountered. She wished she was stronger to prevent all this from happening. She's angry that she wasn't strong enough to protect everyone. And now, she's vengeful enough to make a bloody march towards Moonrise Towers and rid the world of Ketheric Thorm.

We were able to convince Jaheira to join our camp as we made the trip to Moonrise Towers. And where there is darkness, there's always a light at the end of the tunnel. Pero was able to officially adopt the Owlbear Cub into her camp, so now Scratch has a bestie :D! Also, while we were blessed with Selune's protective light, we were also given the lantern that would further protect us from the Shadow Curse. However, Pero some time ago upon discovering the lantern noticed that there was a small creature that was trapped inside. The creature was a fairy named Dolly and claims that staying in the lantern hurts her. Not wanting the Fey to suffer, Pero released Dolly and was able to gain the fairys' blessing. So now the Party is completely immune to the Shadow Curse.

While traveling, Pero noticed that Rolan left behind a magical recorder, indicating that he's gone off to find his missing family. We were able to find him as he was nearly killed by some Shadows, which he was so "thankful" for our help. At this point, Pero was having none of his shit as she asked if it was better if she left him to die. Something Pero probably wouldn't have said if she was her normal self lol. Despite this, Rolan decides to hike it back to the Last Light Inn. Hopefully he'll still be alive when we decide to return back there.

While traveling around, we found a young, partially shadow-cursed boy who asked if the Party would play with them. Pero was able to ascertain that there's something terribly sad about the boy, and I have reason to believe that this might be Thaniel, even though the child says they aren't. Which could be possible, but the way the narrator expressed the vibes about the kid seems to point toward the former. We play his game of hide & seek and moved on towards Moonrise Towers.

On the way there, we encounter the best display of storytelling I've seen Larian perform, the town of Reithwin. I absolutory LOVE the environmental storytelling and story behind this town. From what I was able to sus out about this town based on the notes I found and the context clues other NPCs and the world has given me; this town was once a town dedicated to Selune, goddess of the moon, light, stars, and travel. The best way I can describe her is how Pathfinder has Desna, a goddess who has similar domains. Reithwin was once a peaceful town, but then Ketheric and his forces began enforcing the worship of Shar upon the people. Those who didn't convert had to worship Selune in secret and the people were worked to death as he demanded that any statues or idols of Selune be destroyed.

There was some resistance in the town as the masons guild hoped to stab Ketheric in the back and end this before any war could be made. But it seemed that the members of the guild got overtaken by the Shadow Curse or the war between the Druids and the Harpers before their plan could be enacted. Even more sad is that some of the corpses whom you can get inklings of their last moments of (a lot of the enemies going forward are Shadows, Wraiths, and similar) just simply wanted the fighting to stop, not caring who won in the end. While further exploring, we reunited with another familiar face, Arabella! And it seems like she's got a few tricks up her sleeves too.

apparently, the magic of the Rite of Thorns ritual and touching the idol during all of it has granted her druidic powers. So now she's perhaps either a Sorcerer or a full on Druid! Pero cautions Arabella to use her power with nature responsibly and agreed to look for Arabella's parents while the kid waited at the camp...And, well...We found them.

Unfortunately, Arabella's parents were given a untimely death as the so-called nurses at the House of Healing taken their lives. Pero did not hide this knowledge from Arabella. Pero might be a changed person, but she never lost her honesty, and lying to Arabella didn't seem right to her. While Arabella grieved for her parents, the Party decided to investigate further this supposed House of Healing. What they found was a disheveled institution that's now ran by maniac Shar worshipers who harm their patients than heal them.

At the center of all this, Malus Thorm, whom can be assumed to be the brother of Ketheric Thorm, runs the show as he presents himself a teacher to his brainwashed nurses on how to "cure" those in need. Now, did I pass those stupidly high persuasion checks to get the nurses and Malus to kill themselves? Yes. Did I require me to use nearly all of my inspiration points? Yes indeed. Listen, it was late at night and I was playing for a bit too long, I was looking for the easy way out lol. Also, I think that Astarion, Shadowheart, and even Lae'zel would've been taken aback by Pero's stance for the creatures to kill themselves. I imagine she said her words coldly and with hints of malice and seeing her telling someone to kill themselves is definitely out of character of the Pero they have grown to know.

Regardless, Pero was able to release the victim and we continued on our way.

After fighting some Kuo-Toa, we are reacquainted with Raphael once again! This time, Pero is in her no-nonsense mood with him and demands to know what he wants. Despite his riddles, Raphael explains that there is a rival in the Shar Mausoleum up ahead that he would prefer wasn't let loose and was killed instead. If they are able to kill this creature, Raphael agreed to read the scripting on Astarion's back, which, honestly is a batter deal than just simply having ones' soul whisked away. As we venture into the crypt, we learn some more information about what could've happened to Ketheric that caused him to turn to the darkness of Shar.

There's a puzzle with these drawn on murals with buttons that you must press in order. Based on this order and the diary we find down here, we can piece together the narrative of what happened to Ketheric Thorm. From the sounds of it, he must've been an influential person in Reithwin because he may have had a hand in the construction of Moonrise Towers and he was once a servant of Selune. But then someone close to him died, most likely his mother since you can find her tomb in the other room before coming to this one. From the diary, it seems someone by the name of Balthazar was able to whisper secrets of bringing back the dead to Ketheric, which moved him to become a Shar worshiper, this enacting the war between the Druids, the Harpers, and the Dark Justiciars.

After solving this puzzle, we gained access to a underground temple dedicated to Shar, which we will explore soon in another post. Meanwhile, we haven't spoken much about our companions!

After that encounter with Raphael, Pero asked further about Astarion's enslavement with Cazador and learned that there were other Spawns that Cazador kept. Astarion was his first and he was clearly favored, but Cazador considered their little coven as a family. A pretty fucked up one mind you. In a surprising turn of events, Astarion says that he pities his other "brothers & sisters" as they probably are getting the worse of Cazador's attention now that Astarion is gone. While traveling, Pero was able to find a Night Orchid and provided it as a gift to Shadowheart. And we were able to find a Githyanki holographic letter that gives the corrdinates towards the Githyanki Creche.

Now, while Lae'zel threatens to leave the Party if they don't immediately go towards the Creche, if Pero had a say in it, she would not care if Lae'zel left. Not that Pero hates her now or anything, but the answers to their problem is clearly at Moonrise Towers in Pero's opinion and there are innocent people at stake. Leaving the Curse Lands just to do Lae'zel's whole side quest is the furthest of Pero's mind, and she will not hesitate to make that known if Lae'zel decided to threaten her again with her departure.

#Baldur's Gate 3 #Baldur's Gate 3 Spoilers #BG3 Spoilers #TAV: Pero Ophiin

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bubupop · 2 years

Text

Looking for you (idol!MC)

Warning: Might be OOC at times. English is not my first language. A little angst(?) No beta reader.

Hi! I’m so excited to share this one with you ! I’ve been wanting to publish this one for a while and I’m glad I finally get to !!! Hope you enjoy it^^ ------------

It was an accident. And, most of the time, accidents couldn’t be expected. But they should have known better, they should have protected you at all cost. Yes, the Devildom wasn’t the nicest or safest place for a human but that week of occurrences was ridiculous. Let 's summarize it. You made a friend, Mandy. And she was a control freak, a mean girl wanna be. Anyways, to the point. She tried to be friends with you, went crazy when she couldn’t manipulate you and neither weasel her way into your powerful circle of friends life. Tried multiple ways of harming you pretending they were all accidents and when the brothers began to question her and separate you two she went ballistic. It was terrifying, really. She began to copy your looks, mannerisms, and just tried to monopolize the House of Lamentation and those attempts were not well received and soon shot down by all the brothers. It was very ‘sad cringe’ by Levi’s words. Anyhow, she tried to poison you and almost succeeded. And so she was expelled from RAD and banned from the HoL. But turns out Mandy was also very stupid, and dumb shit happens when stupid people think they’re smart.

So, she asked Solomon, of all damned people, about these flowers she wanted to gift you as a last apology and he said the only thing those flowers did, actually, was bloom and release a gas that would make a human laugh and laugh but you could just easily wash and change to some clean clothes and badabing badaboom, good as new. She beamed. He did alert Simeon and the royals of his concerns and they agreed to let it happen and witness it so they can have a reason to further punish her –I mean, how dare she try to harm beloved MC– they were all pretty done with her at that point. But, then again, Mandy was stupid. The flowers she ended up giving you were very similar ones but the effects were a coma. In a sad attempt to have a petty revenge she ended up almost killing you. When you received the flower and it released its gas you soon passed out,breaking your arm. That accident left a rip in the relationship of all your friends as the brothers weren’t aware of what was gonna happen and it obviously almost gave them a heart attack and Luke was pretty pissed off too.

That flower was rare and they weren’t expecting it and so they had to find a way to cure you. It was stressful to say the least, it looked as if you were dead and if not for your rising chest every time you took a breath they didn’t know what they would have done. The hours went into days and days into weeks and you were still sleeping. Their only comfort was that you weren’t in pain due to your broken arm. It soon took a toll on them all. Helpless was a perfect word to describe it, guilt, too. But what was done was done and there was nothing they could do to change it. They began arguing. They were arguing and you weren’t awake to scold them, you weren’t there to pull their ears and yell at them for being idiotic. To tell them this wasn’t the time to fight. MC, their beloved MC. It goes without saying that it brought back memories. Regrets and more feelings long forgotten. All the stress, anxiety and grief soon tensed up the environment.They took turns to care for you and look for a way to bring you back but things weren’t looking up and then they made the decision. MC was to no longer reside in the Devildom as it was deemed too unsafe. This rash decision made under stress seemed like a solution to the heartbreak. Maybe you weren’t meant to be with them, maybe it was true. All the pessimistic emotions weighed heavy in their head. You were too fragile and they weren’t fit to take care of you. Could humans, demons and angels really be able to coexist in peace?

So they let you go. They all came to terms with what was going to happen as soon as you were starting to come back. They hid your pacts as they were afraid you were too weak to get them removed from you, it was easy enough with a spell. You were groggy and barely a shell of who you used to be, still too out of it to comprehend what was happening.

Next thing you knew you woke up in a hospital bed. You had had an accident in a private academy you were in and were sent home, apparently the academy was no more and you had no recollection of the time you spent there. It was due to your accident, the medical staff all said. But you were so confused and felt you were missing something. What was it? You couldn’t really say. But what can you do about it? Nothing. And life went on.

—-------

Three years later.

Since you’ve been gone hell had become somehow colder. The exchange program continued without you, only Simeon, Solomon and Luke being a part of it now. They all pretended it was all alright but the other demons knew something was wrong. Where was the cutesy tiny human? The one that was always around? Any attempt at questioning was discouraged with a glance. It seemed as if the brothers became more cynical, quicker to be enraged and bothered to lower demons. They almost seemed as if they were grieving. A decision taken too quick and too rash was bound to have its consequences were they aware of it or not. They soon reverted to the worst versions of themselves and there was nothing and no one to stop that.

They tried distinct things to cope with the loss of you. Not that one was better than the other. Your room was kept tidy and all the same. Your secret not-so-secret stash of candy was kept untouched, your blankets a mess only when Belphegor went in to nap. He was allowed to only on special occasions so as not to disturb the scent you left behind. If he was there when he wasn’t allowed to he would be kicked out mostly by Satan or Lucifer. Mammon would walk in, admire your room in silence and walk out all the same. Beelzebub would come in from time to time, too. Look at your knick knacks and play his beloved memories of you in his head. Asmodeus wasn’t brave enough to enter, neither was Leviathan. But time doesn’t wait for anybody. It kept going and going without any mercy. Simeon and Solomon wouldn’t talk much to the brothers either now, half of it from guilt. But things changed since you were gone and they missed you so, so much.

Both Barbatos and Diavolo wished they had spent more time with you. Many times they considered just switching timelines but time itself wasn’t something they felt like playing with. Luke wished he would have baked more with you. Life without you was depressing and dull. How have they managed before you was a question left unanswered.

But you were a stubborn little thing, it seemed. He thought he was dreaming, Lucifer that is. In one of his trips to the human world he dreaded so much –as it made him think of you and how he couldn’t, wouldn’t, dare approach you. So close yet so far away from his reach– he saw it. In a pamphlet, in a TV commercial. It was you. Older, prettier, healthier. Your cheeks red and eyes glowing with excitement. A concert is going to be held soon for your band. Apparently you weren’t just moping around these past years. He smiled slightly at the thought, proud of you. You little devil. During his stay in the human world he kept seeing your face around, in big TV screens and some merchandise, too. What had happened, it seemed, it’s that you were a rising star! Your first single was a hit and soon you scored a deal with a record company. Everyone kept talking about you in both good and bad lights. How did you make it happen so fast? Just who were you? It was because you were a little cute, wasn’t it. How unfair there were so many others that deserved that chance! From a hit song to a band you became the second most popular member. His chest was puffed and heart was swollen with pride. Of course his dear MC would make it! Anything you put your mind to you always managed to do, that’s the MC he knew and adored.

Soon his trip was over and he went back home, grinning. It did scare the living shit out of his brothers and even the other members of the council as he called a meeting almost immediately. It’s essential he informed the others of this discovery. And boy did they beamed. They were cute compilation videos of you all around the human internet. You, sleeping with your mouth wide open and your teammates making fun of you in live. You, eating like a hamster. You giggling while running away from a prank you pulled. You, you all around. After the meeting they all privately took time to look around for more info about you. The twins and Mammon in Levi’s room laughing at your interviews. Asmo and Satan listening to a podcast were you talked about dumb conspiracy theories. Lucifer and Barbatos enjoying the song Diavolo picked from your album. The Purgatory Hall boys enjoying the voice over you did of a book while enjoying their own separate activities. It was like having a part of you.

At the end of the day, however, there was a question lingering in their mind. Are you happier now? Without them? Were you actually miserable with them and you had silenced your heart from speaking up? They couldn’t blame you, they wouldn’t as they knew better that it wasn’t always sunshine and rainbow with them. But you can’t expect feelings to be rational at all.

Then the day of your concert arrived and they all got together to watch it live from the House of Lamentation lounge. Diavolo went as far as to buy a bigger sofa for them all to enjoy. The mood hadn’t been so joyful for so long they all felt like themselves again.

In the middle of the singing and dancing your band suddenly stopped and let you take the center position. You were sweating and breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling, eyes glossy. And then you spoke.

“Hi.” You started awkwardly. The lounge full of men giggled and chuckled like the people in the concert did. You were so cute. “As many of you know I was in an accident some years ago, where I lost all my memories.” The laughing stopped. “While I’m fully healed physically I can’t keep this feeling out of my heart that I’m forgetting something, maybe someone.” The whole room contained their breath now. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find you, I tried by any means possible. You may not know this,” You looked at the people. “but my main reason to become an idol was with the hopes of reaching you.” You held the microphone close to your chest. “I couldn’t find you, so I’m singing with the hopes that you’ll find me!” You did a ridiculously low bow that was almost laughable as the whole stadium was in silence now. You looked up, tears falling from your eyes and sliding off your cheeks and chin. “Tonight I’m singing with the hopes that you’ll listen to it and will find me! Please enjoy my new song “Looking for you.”

#obey me #ob #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me brothers #obey me imagine #angst #idol!mc #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me twins #inspired by the sailor starlights teehee #may have a part 2

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gentlemancrow · 3 years

Note

14: “I’m screwed” shippy JMart :) 💚

Ehehe this one got away from me a little bit! But ask for shippy Jmart get a gushy mooshy Crow! Please enjoy! ; w ;

“I’m screwed…”

Martin watched helplessly through the slats of the yellowed blinds on Jon’s office window as his entire life went up in flames. He dimly recalled some trite old saying about seeing one’s life flash before one’s eyes before the moment of unceremonious besmirching from the cruel mortal coil, but for him it was more of a hysterical repeated rewinding of every single bumbling misstep that had orchestrated his imminent demise.

From the moment he decided he had just enough time before work to pop into the Tesco for the usual bouquet of flowers for his visit to his mother later in the day, to the snap decision to get the one made of tulips, bright crimson, orange, and yellow like a flame, rather than the usual white lilies, all the way up to entering the institute, Elias stuffing a file for Jon in his already laden arms, and then the chaos that had erupted as he attempted to deliver it, he lived it all over again. First there was something about the kettle being on the fritz, and obviously since he used it the most frequently, clearly he knew how to repair errant electronic kitchen devices. He was halfway through chastising Tim for false equivalencies in his logic when Sasha had breezed past and asked for a report he’d supposed to be finished with the day prior, and somewhere in the snarking with Tim and the flailing over his dereliction of duty the flowers had been abandoned on Jon’s desk and the file tucked under his arm instead.

By the time Martin realized he was missing something bulky and crinkly and fragrant it was too late. Jon was already in his office, tatty messenger bag still looped around his chest, forgotten, staring at the fiery bouquet on his desk with the scientific method scrolling visibly through his pupils as he regarded it like a corpse on an autopsy table, hand in a fist with his thumb pressed to his lips. Martin had never wished harder for some sort of horrific creature of the darkness to strike the institute again and just devour him whole this time to put him out of his misery.

“You’re what, mate?” Tim’s adjacent query only intensified that desire.

“Tim! SHUSH!” he squeaked, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and hauling him out of the line of sight from the office window.

“Easy there, big guy!” he laughed, “What’s all the hullabaloo?”

“I’m SCREWED. Big time,” Martin moaned, burying his face, which had been bright scarlet since the moment his hubris had roosted, into his hands, “See those flowers in there? I bought those for my usual trip to see my mum this afternoon but somehow between you being an idiot and me also being an idiot and forgetting to finish that report I sort of… left them there… by accident…”

Jon, meanwhile, had finally set his bag down and had circled his desk like a vulture. He reached out with delicate fingers like forceps and pinched the very edge of the card to inspect it, which, unfortunately, only added to the mystery with its coquettish blankness, as Martin had yet to fill it in. Tim watched, nonplussed.

“So? What’s the big deal about that? Just go explain it to him and I’m sure he… Oh. OH,” he cackled as realization dawned on him, “Yeah, nope you’re screwed.”

“Thanks…”

“Ahh, don’t sweat it. The man’s so thick I’m sure he thinks it’s just a prank or some continued spooky attempt on his life or something. The absolute last thing he would think would be that you of all people would…” Tim stopped himself in the withering blue glare blazing at him from behind round spectacles, “Anyway, again, this is Jon we’re talking about. He’ll just treat it like some weird cosmic mystery until he burns himself out on it or the next one shows up.”

“Y-Yeah but-“

“Just go explain! Unless you want to watch him wriggle about it like a fish on a hook all day. Which I am diametrically unopposed to, by the way, sounds absolutely hilarious.”

Martin winced, hating the idea of being the missing chunk of code that caused Jon’s brain to glitch for the remainder of the day, and sucked in a breath between his teeth.

“No, no you’re right,” he sighed, “Just… no flowers at my funeral if he kills me, okay?”

“Kate Bush songs only, got it, yep.”

Martin rolled his eyes, not dignifying that with a response, and shuffled on mechanical feet to the closed door of Jon’s office. He rapped lightly a few times before pushing his way in, smiling sheepishly at the head archivist who had clearly just unceremoniously flung himself in front of the mysterious bouquet to hide it from view.

“Martin!” he barked, “What in the hell are you-“

“Uh, just needed to talk to you for a second.”

He closed the door behind him

“Oh, uh… about wh-“

“About those, actually,” Martin confessed through his teeth, pointing, mortified, at the coy spray of flaming tulips peeking out from behind Jon’s hip.

He whipped around to look at them, then back to his assistant, then back to the flowers again, the blush that only ever seemed to find the tips of his ears glowing like two carmine rosebuds there.

“…You?”

That unreadable earthy brown gaze, somewhere between wilting regency heroine and venomous snake ready to strike with fangs bared, harpooned Martin directly to the heart.

“No! God no! S-Sorry!” he yelped, flailing his hands defensively in the air, “I-I mean they are mine, yes, b-but I-! Th-They’re for my mum! I-I try to visit her in her care home if I can on Fridays, and I always bring her some flowers! I was supposed to be dropping off a file for you, but then Tim was hounding me about the broken kettle and Sasha needed that damned report and I was all mixed up and I… I forgot them here. On your desk. Your desk of all places. I still have the file and um… T-Trade you? Hah…”

Jon’s finely sculpted brow shifted from pinched, to bemused, to a strange, sorrowful relief as Martin finished lamely in falsetto and he chuckled under his breath.

“Ah… right. Right! I thought for a second someone might have um…” he snorted breathlessly, “Hah, I knew that was a preposterous notion.”

The metaphysical harpoon still in Martin’s chest shattered in icy shards of anguish as his heart collapsed under the weight of itself.

“Wh- Jon, is it really that preposterous a notion someone might want to bring you flowers?” he asked, crushed.

Jon flourished a flippant, elegant hand.

“Come on Martin, this is me we’re talking about. I’ve never gotten flowers once in my life. I’m not the kind of person people think to buy flowers for. It’s not a big deal.”

“Well then let me be the first!” Martin insisted, his mouth and heart moving in tandem before his brain could stop them.

Jon’s brow creased again.

“What? Good lord no, I’m not going to take the flowers you bought for your mother. Who is also in a care home, mind.”

“I’d much rather give them to you.”

The skeptical expression marring Jon’s face did little to hide the blush flourishing at the tips of his ears again.

“Look. We’re friends now, aren’t we?” Martin elaborated shyly, “Friends can send each other flowers. And honestly? My mum doesn’t even like them… no matter what kind I bring. They usually end up being for her nurse instead. So I… I think they’ll have a much better home with you.”

A tiny smile quirked the corner of Jon’s mouth, snipping an invisible thread that softened his entire face into something innocent and full of wonder.

“I see. If you’re sure, I suppose I could…”

“I’m very sure,” Martin replied without hesitation, “Just tell people an old friend sent them out of the blue, or you have a secret admirer or something!”

“Well I don’t know about all that, but-” Jon chuckled, smiling softly, “Thank you. Just the same.”

Martin looked up, just for a moment, and met Jon’s gaze, letting the piercing erudite wood of it lay bare his fluttering heart.

“You’re welcome…”

Jon shifted in the beat of ensuing silence, his eyes flicking away from sky blue radiance to shift his shoulders back into a professional square.

“You uh, said you had a file for me?”

“Oh! Yes! Right! I-I will go fetch that file for you indeed and uh-! Oh yeah! Make sure you snip off the ends of the stems a bit before you put them in water. Helps them last longer,” Martin offered, snapping out of his enchantment and already slinking backwards to the door, “Oh and also! When they start to go, I’ll show you how to press one in a book, so you can keep it, if you like!”

“I’d like that very much, actually.”

Martin smiled, nodded, and saluted awkwardly as he escaped Jon’s office and closed the door behind, leaving him in private to wait until he was sure no one would see. Once he was certain, he preciously gathered the tulips into his hands and brought them to his nose, breathing in the field bright scent of his very first bouquet from a secret admirer.

#the magnus archives #TMA #JonMartin #Jmart #jonathan sims #Martin Blackwood #crow writes #Ask drabble #Bowtiesandfireflies #A red tulip means a confession of love hurrhurr

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 years

Photo

Word Count: 5796 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader Gender: Female Era: The prison Summary: After a close call on a run, the archer explodes at you.

Warnings: Language

Your name: submit What is this?

Another run, another disaster. You needed supplies. What you got was a pile of problems. Daryl, Maggie, Glenn and you ended up in a tight spot with far more walkers than you had expected. You were trapped inside a small flower shop with walkers banging on all the exits.

“How many you got, Glenn?” you whispered harshly to him over the banging fists and gnashing jaws.

“Uhh, too many out this way. Maybe twenty. Possibly more.”

“Fuck…” you muttered. You rushed back to Daryl and Maggie who were both leaning against the side door with all their weight to keep it closed. “Too many out Glenn’s way,” you relayed. You sighed and wiped a slightly shaky hand across your sweaty brow. “I—I’m gonna clear out the back.”

“What?!” Maggie snapped, readjusting her back against the door. “You said there were ten walkers out there.”

Daryl shook his head vehemently. “Nah! That’s too many. Ya can’t—”

“We don’t have a goddamn choice! Look, it’s the exit with the fewest geeks, so unless either of you can suddenly come up with a new and brilliant idea in the next five seconds, I’m doing it!” You waited, staring at both of them.

You shook your head. “You’ve gotta keep this door shut with Maggie until the back is clear. She and I won't be enough. I’m going.”

“Wait—Y/N!” Daryl yelled after you but you were already gone, disappearing into the back stockroom. “Son of a bitch!” Daryl was letting fly a lengthy string of expletives and there was panic in his eyes. Maggie noticed the overwhelming distress on his face as her own stomach flipped.

“She’s—she’s a good fighter,” Maggie stammered.

“And she’s too damn impulsive!” Daryl yelled, straining to keep his weight against the door behind them. “If we get outta this, and she makes it, I’mma kill her,” he growled. Maggie gulped.

In the back room you could hear the walkers still on the other side of the door and you steeled yourself, checking the magazine of your pistol and making sure there was a bullet chambered. You unsnapped the loop on top of your knife’s sheath and heaved in a forced breath. Here we fuckin’ go. You unlocked the door, barely opened it, putting your boot in the way to try and hold it open just enough for you to get your knife into the space. But the pressure of the walkers on the other side was too great for you to manage it for long. You stabbed your knife into the temple of the nearest walker pressing its face toward you in the opening and it was immediately replaced with another.

“Can ya hear anythin’?” Daryl asked desperately.

Maggie shook her head. “No! Just hold on,” she urged. Her back was sweaty from exertion and the stuffy air inside the store and she was starting to slide down the door behind her, constantly having to readjust her position to keep her bodyweight against it beside Daryl.

Just then there was a tremendous crash from the back room followed by gun shots. Daryl and Maggie exchanged a desperate look but the walkers outside the door just behind them had obviously heard the noise too and they attempted to surge forward. Daryl’s boots began to slide on the floor.

“We aren’t gonna be able to hold this much longer!” Maggie yelled, straining to press back into the door and hold the flood of walkers at bay. Over the groaning and mawing she and Daryl could hear more bangs in the back room.

Daryl leaned his head back against the door and shut his eyes for a moment. He felt sick, terrified. What if you were—? He couldn’t hear anything else from the stockroom. “Fuck this,” he growled, glancing at Maggie next to him. As if on cue, Glenn showed up and added his weight to the door behind them.

“I got the entrance jammed shut finally. Where’s Y/N?” he asked, incredulous.

“She went to clear the back way out,” Maggie said.

“What?!” Glenn’s eyes went wide.

“We ain’t waitin’ anymore! C’mon. On the count of three we make a run for the back,” Daryl said. “One. Two…”

Right then you emerged from the back room covered in walker blood, sweaty, your chest heaving, and looking completely exhausted. More concerning was a stream of blood pouring down the side of your face from a gash near your hairline. You absently wiped it out of your eye with your sleeve. “It’s clear! Let’s go!” you yelled at the trio, who were all staring at you in bewilderment.

“…Three!” Daryl said, and they threw themselves forward off the door. It immediately flung open and a flood of walkers began to pour in behind you all. “Go, go, go!” Daryl roared. He tossed anything he could get his hands on in their path behind him as he ran.

They leaped over the bodies of fallen walkers and debris as they rushed through the stockroom, but there it was—the back door standing open, sunlight streaming in, free of any biting jaws or clawing hands. Daryl slammed the door closed behind him as he exited the building but there was no telling how long it would hold.

You were all out of breath but had to keep going.

“Let’s get to the van. Now,” Daryl drawled, not even stopping to glance at any of you.

“My God,” Maggie said, looking over at you as you ran. “Your head—are you alright?” she asked you.

You pressed your sleeve to the gash again and nodded. “Yeah. I think so. You know, head wounds always bleed a lot. Looks worse than it is.”

“What happened?” Glenn asked, running beside his wife, one hand on the strap of his pack and the other entwined with Maggie’s.

“When they started coming in, I had to slow them down. They were coming too fast for me to kill. I pulled those shelves down but it was a bit of a domino effect.”

“Ain’t the place for story time,” Daryl snapped over his shoulder. “Let’s just get the hell outta here.”

You made it back to the van, exhausted, clutching a stitch in your side, your head pounding. You collapsed into the passenger seat as Daryl slid in behind the wheel. You shut your eyes for a brief moment, finally feeling the tightness in your lungs lessen, but you could feel Daryl’s eyes on you and you glanced over. They were narrowed but his expression was unreadable.

“What?” you asked in an undertone.

You thought you saw the muscle in his jaw tense but he simply looked away and started up the van. Soon you were behind the safe, high fences of the prison, climbing out and truly feeling the pain in your head now that the adrenaline had worn off.

Carol and Carl ran to greet you all when you came in. Her eyes clouded with concern as she saw your bloodstained face. “Are you alright?” she asked you urgently, taking your chin gently and turning your head to the side so she could inspect the gash.

“Fine,” you said. “I think. Hurts a bit…”

“I’ll get Hershel so he can take a look at you. I think he’s planting in the garden plot with Rick. I’ll send him up,” Carol said. She paused to give Daryl, who was hanging back, a friendly squeeze on the shoulder and a once over.

You glanced back and he had the same moody expression on his face. It had been a close call for all of you but you couldn’t help but feel like his irritation was directed specifically at you. You tried to shrug it off, but couldn’t suppress the twisting knot in your chest.

Maggie and Glenn broke off to grab some fresh water and Carol went over to talk to Hershel, Carl trailing behind her. That left just you and Daryl heading up to the cell block. The air was tense between you as you crossed the yard but as you stepped into the small common area just outside the cells, it was like it suddenly ignited white-hot.

Daryl threw his bag down angrily on one of the tables and your eyes snapped over to him.

You were a little worried your voice would shake when you spoke. “What’s the matter?” you asked him.

“Are ya shittin’ me?” he challenged you, his chest thrust forward, his eyes now locked on your face.

Your heart started to race and you gulped at the constriction that had suddenly appeared in your throat.

“That was real dumb what ya did back there today!” Daryl roared, pointing an accusatory finger directly at you. His eyes kept flickering up to the gash in your head and his stomach twisted every time. “You’re lucky all you got was that thing on your forehead!”

“What—I—” you stared at him, in shock from his rage. “I got us out of there… I had to.” “Nah. It wasn’t your call to make,” he spat back venomously.

You scoffed. “It was nobody’s call to make, Daryl! We were trapped and we had to get out. We were sitting ducks. Sooner or later they were going to come through the glass up front by Glenn or through that door right behind you and Maggie. I made a choice. And what I did, it didn’t thrust anybody but me right into danger. I can choose to gamble my own life if I want to! Hell, you do it all the time!”

This only seemed to infuriate him more. “Ya ain’t goin’ on runs anymore,” he roared, turning and stalking toward the door that led to the cells. His broad shoulders were squared and rigid.

You let out a noise of disbelief. “That isn’t your decision! And don’t walk away from me! I’ve had enough of this bullshit!”

“Yeah, well that makes two of us,” Daryl spat back over his shoulder.

You let out a frustrated groan. “Ugh! You are so infuriating! What is your problem with me? I haven’t done a damn thing to you and you treat me like I’m a complete waste of space! It’s like I can never do anything right for you, even when I save your ass!”

He spun around and took a few powerful steps back toward you, a scowl on his face, his blue eyes darker than usual. You refused to wilt under it. “This ain’t a shrink’s office, okay? And I sure as shit didn’t sign up for a little feel-good chat. So, why don’t ya leave me alone and go get your damn head stitched up.” He thrust a hand against the back of a nearby chair and it toppled over, echoing harshly in the high ceiling. You watched his broad shoulders shrinking away from you.

“No,” you said loudly, forcefully.

He froze mid-stride and you watched his fist clench and unclench at his side. He slowly turned to face you. “The hell did ya just say?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, resisting the urge to back down beneath his intense stair. “I said no. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck your problem is with me.”

His jaw clenched hard and he started back toward you, that familiar stalk and swagger in his gait. “You are my problem. You’re always getting in my damn way!”

You were trying to stay cool, but your confusion and his unwillingness to explain his anger was infuriating. “In your way? What the hell do you mean?”

“I mean what I said.” He pointed a finger in your face, standing hardly a foot from you now. “On runs. On hunts. Scavenging. Hell, even around here!” Daryl wasn’t prepared for the flash of hurt that crossed your face. You were always so tough, admittedly one of the things he loved about you. He hadn’t considered that his words might actually impact you so heavily, but he saw it flash in your eyes as plain as day and it snapped him out of his rage and filled him suddenly with regret.

Your brow furrowed and you just stared back at him, unwavering, puzzled, like you were trying your hardest to understand just what he was talking about, scrutinizing every past interaction you’d ever had with the archer, running over the events of the day, trying to decode his harsh words. Daryl would have preferred it if you had yelled back again, even if you had stormed out. But this? This was tying him up in knots inside in a worse way. You just went on looking at him… with that blood all down the side of your face.

And when you did finally speak your tone was so soft, so controlled in contrast to his that it only made him feel worse. Your words were measured. “Well, uhh… Sorry. I guess I’ll just—try harder to stay out of your way.”

And that was it. You just breezed past him and headed toward your cell, the sun coming through the high windows glinting off the shine in your hair before you disappeared. Daryl rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face. You worthless piece of shit. Why the hell did ya do that? He cursed himself internally. You’re such an asshole.

_ _ _ _ _ _

That night the air was unseasonably cold but despite the chill you were spending the night on the outside balcony of the guard tower during your shift to keep watch. Every so often you shivered in the cold, but something about the bite of the air matched your mood after Daryl had exploded at you the way he had earlier. It was sharp, unexpected.

You still didn’t really understand what he had meant and you couldn’t stop puzzling over it. In his way? What the hell did he mean? Literally? Or did he mean something more… figurative?

The clank of the door behind you snapped you out of your swirling thoughts and you looked over your shoulder to see Rick emerging.

“Hey,” you greeted him, shrugging a little more deeply into your flannel.

“Hey,” he drawled back, coming to lean his forearms on the railing beside you and stare out across the yard. It was quiet tonight. He was grateful for that. “Cold tonight isn’t it?” he mused aloud, glancing over at you. When you didn’t respond and just continued staring into the night his brow contracted. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm?” your eyes finally snapped to his. “Oh. Yeah. I’m fine. I thought you were supposed to be resting tonight,” you said pointedly. “I can handle the next shift. I’m not tired anyway.”

“Mmm,” he nodded, turning back to let his eyes wander across the perimeter. “Not tired? Even after that run today? Maggie said you all had a close call.”

You nodded. “We did. But we all came back so… about as good a day as any. Can’t ask for more than that.”

“Mmm,” Rick hummed again in agreement. There was a long silence and you could feel some growing tension in it, sensed that Rick was searching for how to say just what he was mulling over. He did finally manage it. “This whole ‘not tired’ thing have anything to do with that fight you and Daryl had this afternoon?”

You gulped and looked down at your hands. “You heard that? I really thought everyone was outside…”

“They were. I just happened to be coming in to clean up a bit.”

You sighed heavily and felt your cheeks redden a little. You put one hand up to your face. “That’s… great…” you muttered.

Rick turned so he was facing you, just leaning on the railing with one elbow now. “I wouldn’t worry about what Daryl said or how he said it…” he drawled. You looked at him like he was insane.

“…you did say you heard him, right?”

Rick nodded. “Oh, yeah. I heard ‘im. But there’s a saying and it truly does apply to Daryl Dixon.”

“And what’s that?” you asked, cocking a skeptical eyebrow.

“The dog that barks the loudest? That’s the one that’s the most afraid.” Rick watched you puzzling over his words for a moment before you turned back to the night.

“Afraid?” you repeated. “Daryl? He’s like—the most fearless of all of us.”

Rick sighed and followed your lead, again looking out into the darkness. “He is. Until he isn’t. Listen, I’m not making excuses for how he yelled at you. All I’m saying is not to think on it too hard.” He straightened up and pulled off his jacket, holding it out for you. “Take this. It’s cold. I’m gonna take this opportunity while Judith is asleep to also sleep. Let’s hope I didn’t just jinx it. Ya sure you’re alright up here?”

You nodded and slipped Rick’s jacket on. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Alright.” He patted your shoulder kindly before again leaving you alone with your thoughts, possibly even more confused than you had been before.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You were exhausted by the time you climbed down from the guard tower the next morning as the sun was cresting over the trees. All you could think about was collapsing into your bed. The prison was still fairly silent as you came in, most people still sleeping. You yawned as you turned the corner into the room just outside the row of cells. When you looked up you saw Daryl sitting on one of the tables sharpening some bolts for his bow. You actually froze, before forcing yourself to move out of your falter.

You could feel his eyes on you as you crossed the room, purposefully giving him a wide berth, your head tilted down. When you turned into the cell block you let out an exhale you hadn’t meant to hold. You breezed into your cell and collapsed down onto your bed, hugging the pillow as you sank into it, too tired even to pull the sheet across the doorway. You were asleep the next minute.

Carol was up and found Daryl still in the same place you had seen him, but although he had a bolt in one hand and his knife in the other his hands were still. He seemed frozen there, just glaring into space across the room, obviously in some deep thought.

“Mornin’, Pookie,” she said, ruffling his hair just to annoy him.

He let out a growl and leaned away from her hand before glancing over at her, his lips pressed together in a thin line. She knew the look in his eyes. Something was eating him. “What’s wrong?” He let out a non-committal hum and shrugged his shoulders vaguely, his hands suddenly fidgeting endlessly with the bolt between his fingers. “Obviously something,” she prompted him again. Daryl glanced back over his shoulder toward the cell block. “What?” Carol pressed.

He only hummed again and shrugged. “What’re ya doin’?” he asked quietly.

“Just gonna go out and haul some water. Wanna come?” she asked.

He nodded and hopped to his feet, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder and sheathing his knife. He followed Carol out into the morning light and trailed behind her as she went to the waterline. As she waited for the bucket to fill she straightened up and wiped the dirt from her hands. “Are you going to talk to me or not? I can tell something is bothering you.”

Daryl pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and thought hard for a moment. He’d hardly slept. He’d laid awake on his bed roll all night, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling and tracing them with his eyes over and over in a futile attempt to distract his mind. It didn’t work.

“I just—I screwed up yesterday. Big time. And I—” he shrugged. “I dunno how to fix it. Or if I even can,” he drawled.

Carol watched the turmoil in his eyes. She crossed her arms and studied him. “Is this about the run yesterday? Did something happen out there?”

“Kinda. Not exactly.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’re going to have to give me a little more than that to go on.”

“I just—I said some things yesterday and… they ain’t even really true.” He was staring down at his boots, and in that moment, it struck Carol how boyish he looked.

“We all say things we don’t mean from time to time. You just have to apologize,” she said thoughtfully. “We’re a family here. Family forgives.”

Daryl’s eyes shot up to hers again and he shrugged, chewing on the side of his thumbnail. “Just like that? I dunno. Don’t seem that simple.”

“Daryl, it happens to all of us. We say things out of anger, exhaustion… hunger. Fear.” She stooped to turn off the flow of the water.

“But—when ya’ve said somethin’ and—and, I mean, ya can’t unsay it. Even if ya apologize, whatever ya said is still out there,” he mused. There was a gruff rasp in his throat, the gravel in his deep voice heavier than usual.

Carol sighed and picked up the bucket. “Well, the first question you have to answer for yourself is why you said whatever it was you said in the first place. And just apologize and try to explain.” She watched his expression. He didn’t look any less uneasy. “Just try. See what happens. If it blows up in your face you can come back and let me have it,” she joked.

Daryl rolled his eyes and watched Carol head back up to the prison. He remained standing down by the fence, leaning against it, and wondering how he was going to explain away his outburst at you… wondering if you would, if you could, forgive him.

The truth was that he was terrified of something happening to you, and being helpless as he held the door while you so willingly threw yourself into danger was agonizing. And that fear had come out in a blast directed right at you, with all sorts of unsaid things behind it.

There was a shuffle near the entrance of your cell and you shot awake, sitting partially up on one elbow and barely catching a glimpse of the back of Daryl’s vest as he moved out of view. Had he been standing there looking in at you? Did he need something? You puzzled over it and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You were probably just imagining that shuffle. He was most likely just walking by. Just then you saw Rick going past your cell in the opposite direction with Judith in his arms and you jumped up, realizing you were still wearing his jacket. You hastily pulled it off and jogged to catch up with him. “Rick!” He turned. “Hey. Thanks for this,” you said, holding it out to him.

He accepted it with a nod. “You can borrow it anytime you want to take over my shift,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

You laughed lightly. “I guess the little one let you get some sleep then, huh?” you asked, fondly stroking Judith’s soft hair.

“She did. I think she’s getting better at this whole sleep thing. Soon she’ll go straight through the night,” Rick said.

“That’s great,” you said.

“Hey, I know you were up all night but… I think there’s a bit of a pile up on the fence. If you’re rested up enough would you mind—”

“No problem,” you said urgently, grateful for a task to distract you. “I’ll get out there right away.” In a few minutes you were down at the fence, a sharp metal rod in your hand. You plunged it into a walker’s skull through the fence and immediately moved to the next one… and the next… Despite the cooler temperatures in anticipation of autumn, you were drenched in sweat. You were grateful for the ability to focus on the heaviness of the metal rod in your hands and the snarls of the walkers separated from you by nothing more than a thin barrier of chain link. It was hard work and you’d been at it a long time.

Maggie was just thinking the same thing and she came to stand beside Daryl, who was also looking out across the yard and seemed to be watching you. “She’s been out there for hours. We should tell her to come in and take a rest. Get somethin’ to eat,” she thought aloud.

“Mhm,” Daryl agreed, not looking away from you.

Maggie glanced over at him. “Well, do you wanna go and try to convince her or should I?”

The archer chewed his bottom lip for a moment before straightening up. “I’ll do it.” He headed for the far end of the yard. As he approached, he could see your skin was glistening with sweat in the sun, the hair on the nape of your neck sticking in the heat. He tried to ignore the jump his heart gave and the warmth blooming in his chest as he approached. “Ya keep at it like this you’re gonna drop out here,” he said loudly, trying to make sure you would hear him over the snarls of the walkers.

You spun in surprise, the metal rod hanging along your side, a bit of walker blood and gore dripping off the end. Daryl’s voice was just about the last one you expected to hear. You turned back to the fence and stabbed another walker. “I’m fine,” you said over your shoulder.

“Nah. Ya been out here long enough. C’mon.” You only continued at your grim work, your shoulders tensing as you raised the rod. “Ya deaf or somethin’?” Daryl yelled.

You turned and looked at him again, your expression mostly blank, except for your furrowed brow. “I’m not deaf. I’m—” you sighed and crossed your hands over your chest. “What are you even doing down here?” you asked, genuinely confused.

Daryl’s blue eyes looked away for a moment. “What d’ya mean?” He was gripping the chain link in front of him, his fingers poking through.

“I mean, yesterday. Me down here working on the fence is about as out of your way as I could get, Daryl. And now you’re here.”

You watched as he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and bit it anxiously. “That why you’ve been out here so long?” he asked.

“No, I—Rick asked me to come down and—”

“Mmm. Mhm,” Daryl hummed, his nose inclining a little. “Ya, that makes sense. You’d do anything Rick asked of ya, right?”

You gave him a confused look. His tone was so… odd, almost hostile. “What are you—”

“Yeah, I saw ya earlier. Wearin’ his jacket. Givin’ it back to him…” He felt a swell of jealousy in his chest as he thought of you laughing, your eyes fixed on Rick’s face, light in your eyes.

Your jaw dropped open. “I was—it was cold last night. I was on watch. I was taking over Rick’s shift too and he came up to check on things and left me his jacket… What are—are you—?” You were bewildered. It sounded like Daryl was jealous. What the hell was happening? One day he’s screaming at you to stay out of his way and the next he’s acting like he’s under the spell of a particular green-eyed monster. Daryl scoffed and straightened up off the fence. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it. Just you and Rick up in the guard tower. Alone,” he growled, flicking his hand in your direction.

“Are you kidding me? What the hell is going on with you?!” you asked, flabbergasted. “Not that this is even relevant or any of your damn business... and Rick’s a good man but I’m not interested in him like that. I don’t know what—”

Daryl interrupted you again. “Uh huh, ya. He is a good man. Only one here now, right?” Daryl spat back.

You were stunned. “Daryl! Daryl!” He had turned away again and started stalking back up toward the prison, but you were now infuriated and let out a frustrated growl before booking it for the gates that would let you get back into the yard.

By the time you made it, he was a good distance ahead of you, out in the middle of the grassy area and you had to run to catch up to him. “Hey!” you yelled, grabbing onto his shoulder lightly. He threw your hand off and spun around, but you were surprised to see that he didn’t look mad anymore. He looked… defeated. But now you were mad. “Are you gonna fucking explain to me what the hell is going on with you?!? I don’t know what to think! One minute you’re screaming at me to stay out of your goddamn way and the next you’re acting jealous because—what, you think I’m fucking Rick? Which, I’m not, by the way, not that it is any of your damn business.” You scoffed. “And just FYI, I don’t appreciate you trying to tell me what I can and can’t do! Now, what the hell is going on?” you demanded.

He stood there in front of you, his fists clenched at his sides, just looking back at you for a long moment, blue eyes narrowed in either a glare or a squint against the Georgia sun. He couldn’t stop looking at the neat row of stitches on your forehead and the dark bruising around them that had developed over night. His stomach twisted every time. He tore his eyes away and stared down at his boots, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I—you’re right.”

“…what?”

He sighed heavily and looked back up, meeting your eyes again. “M’sorry. Ya just—I thought I was gonna lose ya out there yesterday.”

You just continued to stare at him, confusion muddying your expression.

He chewed his bottom lip for a moment trying to come up with the right words to explain, to apologize. “Ya scared the shit outta me, pullin’ what ya did. And every time ya go out there, I can’t stop thinkin’ about what if somethin’ happens to ya. And it almost—it’s like I can’t breathe.”

You just stared at the archer, your heart continuing to race in your chest, but not from anger anymore.

“And I know it isn’t fair that I yelled at ya like I did. I was bein’ a jackass. I guess it was just how all that fear… came out. And I didn’t mean how it sounded.” Now that he had started talking it was almost like he couldn’t stop.

“Then what did you mean?” You felt like you were imagining this.

“I meant that…” he licked his bottom lip nervously and his blue eyes met yours. “I couldn’t bear it if somethin’ happened to ya.” He studied your expression for a moment, his eyes landing on the soft pout of your lips. “And I was jealous of you and Rick.”

“Daryl, there’s nothing—”

“I know. I know…” he trailed off. “But I was an asshole and then ya were wearing his jacket and smilin’ at him, laughin’, and I just—” He gulped at the restriction in his throat. “I—I wanna be that for ya.”

Your brain still wasn’t entirely registering what he was saying, but the way he was looking down at you was certainly sending jolts of electricity through you. “Be what?”

His eyes flickered between your lips and eyes repeatedly and you felt like you were waiting in anticipation on the edge of something. He shrugged vaguely. “Everythin’. Anythin’ ya need,” he said simply.

“…so, when you said that I’m in your way—?”

“I meant I can’t hardly think of anythin’ but you all the time.” Daryl was quickly losing his courage, nerves starting to take over and he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewed on it anxiously. You were looking up at him but he couldn’t read your expression. It was seemingly blank, and finally he was so anxious he started to turn away, but your hand landed on his arm gently and he looked back at the contact of your skin on his before his eyes rose and met your gaze.

There was a small smile on your face and Daryl’s heart leapt even as he tried to prepare himself for disappointment. “Where do you think you’re going?” you asked quietly. He again squared his feet to yours, shifting his weight from one foot to the other nervously. Your hand was still on his forearm and it felt like it was sending out radiating waves of heat.

Your smile faded and your expression became more serious. “Everything you just said—is how I feel about you.”

Daryl gulped, feeling suddenly breathless in disbelief. Your hand dropped from his arm, leaving a tingling sensation behind.

“Listen, I’m on watch duty again tonight. First shift. I’ll probably be cold. Why don’t you come keep me company and maybe bring me a jacket,” you said, with a small smile.

Daryl’s heart leapt at the thought of spending so much time with you alone. He nudged his nose up in a nod and was about to leave when he felt your hand on his arm again. You arched up onto your toes and placed a kiss on his cheek, giving him a warm smile, he felt he didn’t deserve. He stood rooted in place in the middle of the grassy field, a hesitant excitement blooming in his chest, as he watched you disappear into the safety of the prison.

#my gifs #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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bumblesimagines · 3 years

Text

Green Thumb

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

For anyone confused, (Y/N) was around 17 when he fought the Avengers and was taken in and now he's 18-19. Lowkey a filler to develop/show (Y/N)'s relationship with Laura and Clint

You stared up at the large wooden house, a soft breeze blowing by that made you tugged down the sleeves of the sweater you were wearing. Clint turned off the engine of his motorcycle, looking up at you. You furrowed your brows and turned towards him, glancing at the darkening sky.

"What is this place?" You asked, watching him curiously Clint stood beside him, gazing fondly at the house. He looked at you with a gentle smile.

"My home."

"Home?"

"Yep, home. The only other people who know about this place are Fury and Natasha." Clint revealed, making your brows raise. You looked back at the house. It was homey for sure. Far from the city with nature surrounding it. A perfect place to raise a family and live a quiet life. You bit your bottom lip, gently wrapping your arms around yourself.

"So, why’d you bring me here?" You asked. If it was such a big secret that not even Tony or Steve knew about it, why would he share it with you? You weren’t even part of the team. You were just a child that they had to take in. Clint placed a gentle hand on your back.

"You need some fresh air and a break from the shit back at the tower. Come meet my wife and kids." Clint said, walking towards the house. You slowly followed, still unsure about the whole thing. You didn’t know why Clint trusted you so much. Not even a couple weeks back, you had attempted killing him and the Avengers. You had heard Tony mention Clint having a habit of taking in strays so you assumed you were just another person Clint wanted to help. The aroma of food filled your senses, making you let out a soft hum. Clint had heard it, chuckling as he stepped into his home. You followed, noticing the pictures on the walls and scattered drawings.

"Laura, I’m home!" Clint called out into the house, following the light from the kitchen. You noticed some legos laying around, looking up as a woman approached Clint and greeted him with a kiss.

"How was work?" She asked softly, smiling. You could see two kids looking at you curiously from the table. Clint smiled back at his wife, gently stroking her long hair.

"It was fine, honey. I brought a guest." Clint motioned towards you. Laura looked at you, humming softly. Her smile widened as she faced you.

"You must be (Y/N). Welcome to the Barton Farm." Laura giggled softly, placing a hand on her belly. Your gaze dropped down, noticing her barely visible bump. Laura followed your gaze, chuckling softly.

"We’re- Well, more like Natasha is hoping for a little girl." Laura smiled, glancing at Clint when he placed a gentle hand on her bump. She looked back at (Y/N), motioning to the table.

"Come join us."

You walked with Laura to the greenhouse, glancing over at Tony and Steve as they talked.

"How was your first mission?" Laura asked, smiling widely as she gazed at you curiously. You were supposed to go on a mission when your training was complete but nevertheless, it had been quite exciting. You smiled, looking forward.

"It was.. Good. It didn't go as planned, obviously, but there wasn't much of a plan to begin with. Clint's definitely holding a grudge against the runner." You chuckled, opening the door to the greenhouse and stepping inside. Some new flowers had been added.

"I don't blame him." Laura said, giggling as she pulled up a chair. She sat down, letting out a sigh of relief. Laura rested her hands on her belly, watching you with a gentle gaze.

"The girl.. The girl made Hulk lose his shit and made the others see stuff." You told her, picking up a pot with a venus flytrap inside. You gently ran your finger over the plant, watching it open.

"Did she get to you?"

"No, I.. I stopped her before she could do anything to me. Natasha seemed pretty shaken up by what she saw." You looked back at her, frowning softly. You had never seen Natasha look so broken inside. Whatever she had seen, it had definitely triggered some bad memories. You wondered what Wanda would've made you see. The orphanage? The fight with the Avengers?

"Clint mentioned you had to work on your people skills." Laura recalled, laughing softly as she tilted her head. "What's that about?"

"I might've choked.. A few people."

"Might've?" Laura repeated, raising her brows. You placed the pot down, letting out a soft sigh as you stared down at the venus flytrap.

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" Laura asked softly, noticing the change. You gently pushed the pot back into its spot beside the other plants, shrugging lightly.

"Not that long ago, I was in their spot. Wanda and Pietro.. Two young metas trying to survive. With my powers, I could have seriously injured someone and-"

"But you didn't, did you? We're all standing on this plot of land, living and breathing." Laura stood up from the chair, holding onto it as she regained her balance. She walked towards you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"You were a frightened kid on survival mode. You were doing whatever you could to protect yourself." Laura said, gaze softening.

"Obviously, I could never hurt Thor or Hulk but... I almost crushed and suffocated everyone else. Tony had to work on his suit, Natasha and Clint had bruises for days.. Steve did that weird staring thing like a fucking camera whenever I was in the room." You reached forward, running a finger over the leaf of a plant and watching it grow.

"Look at yourself." Laura motioned to the plants. "You have full control of your powers. You know your limits. You're.. Mother Nature's son! Like, almost literally her son."

"I'm your son." You muttered, keeping your gaze on the plants. Laura stayed quiet, almost frozen in place. She slowly smiled, nodding as she blinked away tears.

"Yeah.. Yeah, you are. You're my son. You're a Barton." Laura said softly, sniffling softly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm gonna go see if Stark is willing to check out the tractor. Holler if you need anything." Laura said, turning around. She left the greenhouse, walking back towards the house. You thought about her words, knowing what she said was true but things could've gone differently if you had been in full control of your powers during the confrontation with the Avengers. Clint had still offered you support despite it all.

You brought your knees close to your chest, hearing the sounds of the Avengers grunting and talking on the floor below. The overgrown vines in the abandoned building wrapped around the corner you were in, providing cover.

"Hey, kid? You up here?"

"Barton, what the hell are-"

"Shut up, Tony." You furrowed your brows, hearing sluggish footsteps on the floor you were at.

"This isn't the greatest hiding spot, kid." The voice, 'Clint', had gotten closer. He was most likely standing infront of you, the vines being the only thing keeping you from seeing him.

"Look, I know you're scared. I know the orphanage probably wasn't great either, but we can help you. I can help you. You can trust me." Clint assured softly. You swallowed, reaching out and touching the vines. They parted, letting you peer up at Clint. He offered a tired smile, extending his hand to you.

"You just made Laura the happiest woman alive." You turned towards Clint, chuckling softly. Clint pushed himself off the doorway, stepping inside.

"Must be nice to finally feel happy for once." You replied, grinning.

"Oh, trust me, you should've seen her face when I proposed." Clint chuckled, looking over the greenhouse. He hummed.

"Maybe I should get into gardening." He muttered, arms crossing as he looked over the different flowers. You watched him.

"You'll be busy with missions."

"I don't plan on sticking around for long, if I'm honest. I want to retire and be with my kids more. The hero life isn't forever for some people. Keep that in mind, (N/N)."

"You're gonna leave the team?" You asked, frowning. You knew Clint had been thinking about it. Especially with a third kid on the way that would come at any moment.

"I got lucky but.. The thought of leaving Laura alone with three young kids, a barely legal adult, and a big plot of land.." Clint sighed, shaking his head as he gently tapped his finger against the table.

"I don't want to be an absent father and miss out on big achievements. I owe it to Laura and you guys." Clint explained softly. You understood. None of the other Avengers were parents yet. Clint dying meant fatherless kids and a widow. He had a lot more to lose.

"I'll always be here if you need advice or more training. I just won't be on the field with you." Clint placed his hands on your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze before he leaned in and gave you a hug. You hugged him back, eyes shutting. You weren't sure how you'd be on the field without Clint there to support you. Being beside him brought you comfort and reassurance.

"You'll be an amazing Avenger, (Y/N). I know it." Clint whispered, leaning back and smiling softly.

"Will you be my number 1 fan?" You asked with a grin.

"I'm afraid the top three spots are already taken but I'll happily be your fourth biggest fan." Clint laughed softly, turning his head when Laura called for him and you.

"Come on, let's see what the boss wants." He said playfully, turning around and walking out. You followed, noticing Nick Fury standing on the porch. He gave you a nod before entering the house.

"What's he doing here?" You asked, looking at Clint. Clint shrugged, letting out a deep sigh as you walked up the steps.

"We're about to find out."

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 16: Tulips

With the possible exception of all of the eighth years getting along and actually becoming friends, regardless of their former rivalries, the first half of Draco's eighth year at Hogwarts was remarkably ordinary. Funny how it took a war to see that they were all just children and all being used as pawns in a bigger game.

There was also, for Draco, the realization that he had a bit of a crush on Potter. He found that he actually really enjoyed the other boy's company; he enjoyed his snarkiness and the way that Draco could see mischief in his eyes. He liked the way Potter listened, liked the way he always seemed to want to casually touch other people. He liked him, plain and simple.

But other than the unlikely truces turned friendships (and in the case of Potter, turned crush) nothing weird happened, no one tried to kill him (or other students), no prophecies were unveiled, there were no dementors, no psychopath teachers, nothing. It was almost enough to make Draco bored.

Almost.

There was nothing strange until one unassuming morning in March, when they were all sitting in the great Hall, eating breakfast, and quizzing each other for the upcoming test in Transfiguration.

Potter interrupted the heated debate that Draco was having with Granger with a blurted, "What the fuck?"

Everyone looked over at him, including Hermione and Draco, to see what had happened.

"There's a tulip in my coffee cup!" the other boy said.

"So there is," Draco replied in amusement.

Everyone chuckled and Potter tried to figure out who had put the bright yellow tulip there but Draco really didn't have time to think about that because he and Hermione were back to arguing about Transfiguration theory.

He probably wouldn't have thought about it again but that evening as they got ready for bed, Draco felt a strange twinge in his magical core, like you got when you were preparing to cast a strong spell.

Before he could really dig into what had happened, Potter's bed curtains flew open, "Alright, you lot," he said, a laugh ruining the stern look he was attempting. "Who put this here?" he asked, holding out a red tulip that he'd apparently found on his pillow.

(Read more below the cut)

Each of them denied having any knowledge of how the tulip could have found its way into Potter's bed, but a bit of unease settled in Draco's stomach. Potter put the second tulip in with the first in the vase on the windowsill and laughed it off.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, there was a story he'd been told as a child. A story that he couldn't quite grasp but filled him with a bit of apprehension none the less.

Still, this was nothing like the sort of anxiety that Draco had been accustomed to forcing himself to sleep through for the past few years, so he put it from his mind and went to sleep.

And again, he might have been able to forget about it, if it weren't for the fact that the next morning he felt a tug at his magical core and then a few minutes later, Potter appeared with another tulip. White this time and he'd found it in the pocket of his robes. "Seriously, what the hell you guys?" he laughed.

Everyone else laughed too, but Draco frowned, the memory of the story niggling at the back of his mind once more, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He continued to try to remember throughout the rest of the week and Potter continued to get tulips. They showed up in his book bag, the showed up in place of his quills, they showed up on his plate at meals, they showed up everywhere and anywhere. One even replaced his loofa in the shower.

By the end of the week, Potter was getting a bit irritated and he'd had to enlarge the vase multiple times to fit all of the tulips. Draco wasn't sure why Potter hadn't just thrown them out, but it wasn't his place to say anything, certainly.

On Saturday, when everyone had gone off to Hogsmeade for the morning, Draco fire called his mother.

"Draco, darling," she said, smiling at him, "I'm so pleased to hear from you. How are you?"

He endured the predictable pleasantries before he said, "Listen, mother, the reason I called," he paused there because this was all a bit ridiculous. "Well, it sounds silly really, but there was a story you told me when I was little," he said. "Something about a wizard who had flowers appear out of nowhere? I can't remember it."

"Why?" she asked, her face serious. "Draco, why are you asking me about that story?"

"No reason," he said quickly. "It's just something that came into my head," he lied.

"Who's receiving tulips, Draco?"

"It's nothing!" he repeated. "And I never said there were any tulips."

"If I tell you the story, will you tell me the truth?"

Draco sighed but nodded.

"The story," she began, "was about your great, great, great uncle Silas. Silas was a difficult man, everyone always said so. He was haughty and rude; he was quite clever but not terribly gracious about it."

"Mother," he interrupted, his knees were growing cold and sore from kneeling on the common room floor, "could we just skip to the meat of the story."

"Yes, alright," she sighed. "Long story short, Silas fell in love with a muggleborn. His family obviously refused to let him get married, assuming that the love would fade eventually. There was an arranged marriage in there as well, but that's not really important. What is important, is that the person he fell in love with began to find tulips everywhere. Every time she went to pick up something, it turned into a tulip; at her home, her work, everywhere she went, tulips."

Draco felt something in the pit of his stomach drop. This couldn't be happening.

"He was pining for her, heartbroken that he couldn't be with her," she said. "Now, magic can't create something from nothing, so in each of the tulips was a little bit of Silas' magic."

"Like a horocrux?" he asked in horror.

"No, darling, nothing so sinister as that. But the flowers were slowly draining his magical core and he was growing steadily weaker." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "So, as the story goes, when he was so weak he could barely summon the strength to stand, he went to her to confess his love. What did it matter if he was going to die? When he told her of his love, she kissed him and his magic was restored. The family was convinced that it was true love and that the love that bound the two of them together was obviously stronger magic than that of blood status."

Draco rubbed a hand over his face, "So, this was a true story?"

"Yes, it's all rather well documented as it would have to be in the case of something like this." She gave him her most commanding look, "Now, I've held up my end of the bargain, so it's your turn. Tell me who's receiving tulips, Draco."

"Harry Potter," he whispered.

Her eyebrows rose, "You have to tell him, Draco."

"I can't!" he said, shaking his head, "You know I can't. He couldn't possibly feel the same way, he couldn't possibly love me, too-"

Something shattered behind him and he yanked his head back to see the boy in question standing there, bouquet of tulips in his hands. The vase had dropped and been smashed, water was soaking into Potter's socks but he didn't seem to notice.

Draco promptly ended the fire call with his mother and wondered if it would be possible to transfer to Beauxbatons to complete the year. It was either that or he should just go off to die.

"How much of that did you hear?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Most of it," Potter confessed with a little wince. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop but then I heard her talking about how everything in that girl's life became tulips and I knew you were talking about me. I didn't realize how the story would end," he hastened to add. "I just thought that she might know something about a curse or spell that had been cast on me."

Draco rubbed his forehead, "Look, could you just forget about the whole thing?"

"Forget about it?" Potter asked, sounding a little hysterical at this point. "Draco, it turned six quills into tulips in the past three days. Six!" he shook his head. "No, I can't forget about it and I certainly can't let you die."

Draco stood up and balled his hands into fists, "Always ready to play the hero aren't you?"

"What?" the other boy asked, obviously taken aback.

"Ready to play the martyr," he sneered. "Well I won't have it. I won't have you tying yourself to me just because you're afraid that I'll die if you don't return the sentiment."

"But I already do return the sentiment," Harry said, sounding bewildered. "Sorry, maybe I should have said so, but I thought that was obvious from the story."

"What?"

"Well, your mum said that it was true love's kiss that restored his magic, true love that made it possible for the flowers to appear in the first place. I just assumed it was obvious that I was in love with you, too."

"You are?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe that this was possible.

"Yeah," Harry replied with a little shrug. "I mean, I thought maybe it would have been good to start with a date or something," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "It's why I'm still here, I wanted to invite you to go to Hogsmeade with me."

"You did?"

Harry nodded again. "But I'm glad to kiss you, for the unselfish reason that it will restore your magic," he said, glancing down at the flowers in his hands before looking back up, "And for the selfish reason that I would really just like to kiss you."

"You would?" he asked.

Harry huffed at him, "Are you going to stop sounding like you doubt every word out of my mouth?"

"Sorry, it's just-" Draco started but then Potter was across the room, dropping the tulips as he cupped Draco's face in his hands and leaned in until they were a mere inch apart.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked softly, his eyes flickering between Draco's.

"Yes," Draco breathed.

Harry gave him a little grin and leaned in to kiss him, his soft, full lips, gently caressing Draco's, and Draco felt like his heart stopped beating for a moment before a surge of magic, and joy, and love came rushing in and filled him to bursting.

He wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and pulled him in closer and Harry hummed, molding his lips to Draco's for a moment before pulling back and resting their foreheads together.

"That was-" Draco started.

"Fantastic," Harry agreed. "Do you feel better? Not going to die on me or anything?"

Draco laughed and pinched his side, "I think we were a long way off from that."

"I don't know," Harry replied, tilting his head to press a kiss to the tip of Draco's nose. "There were an awful lot of tulips."

"Yes," Draco replied, pulling back to look at the tulips strewn about the floor, "And you've dropped them all on the ground. That's quite rude, you know."

Harry huffed at him, "Prat," he said fondly before drawing away to swish his wand and collect all of the tulips and put them back into the repaired vase. "So," Harry said, "I think tulips may be my new favorite flower."

"Mine, too," Draco replied with a smile.

And when they got married, two years later, there were tulips everywhere.

Day 15: Wings | Day 17: Salt

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #drarry drabbles #drarry ficlets #boys in love #true love conquers all #drarry #day 16 #thanks so much for the prompt anon #enjoy

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ryukyuan-sunflower · 3 years

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Romance in Samurai Champloo: The Mirror Reflection of Jin and Shino and Mugen and Fuu

Upon re-watching Episode 11, I was utterly shocked by how many parallels exist between Mugen and Jin as characters, in regards to their relationship with the most important women of their journey. The interactions and concepts are near identical. These specific themes and interactions were only exhibited with two specific women, and no other characters in the series.

In episode 11, Jin falls in love with Shino: a courtesan who was forced into prostitution due to her lousy, abusive husband's gambling debt. Jin later saves Shino from this brothel, and helps her escape to a divorce temple.

Canonically, it was stated in the Samurai Champloo Roman Album by Shino’s character designer that Jin does indeed "fall for" her, so it was not simply chivalry that led him to help her. This echoes his actual dialogue in episode 11:

Fuu: I understand why you pity her but-

Jin: It’s not pity.

It is not pity, because it is love.

So, here is the INSANE number of ways Jin's confirmed romantic dynamic with Shino is an uncanny mirror to Mugen's subtle romantic dynamic with Fuu.

Warning: There is a LOT of comparisons. I was honestly so surprised and have a whole new level of respect for this anime now, and specifically Episode 11.

Enjoy the read!

The First Meeting: Saving the Girl and Reading Her Mind

Both Mugen and Jin save a woman’s life at their first encounter. Both also know the girl is in trouble without ever being told.

Both Fuu and Shino reject the notion that they need help. But it is revealed later that they do.

Jin meets Shino on a bridge and saves her life. She confesses much later, that she had been contemplating suicide, but because he stopped to talk with her, she did not go through with it.

Never did Shino ever show any indication she wanted to drown herself, other than looking at the canal. Jin just knew the moment he walked by.

Mugen meets Fuu in the tea house and saves her life. The magistrate's son was going to have her mutilated and killed. But because Mugen talked with her, she was able to strike a deal of killing them for 100 dumplings.

Never did Fuu tell Mugen that the guys were giving her trouble. Mugen just knew the moment he walked in.

In addition to this first meeting, Jin also stops Shino’s husband from beating her. Mugen also stops Umanousuke from beating Fuu in Episode 25.

Thinking in the Rain: Love Interest Trapped in a Brothel

Previously, in Episodes 3+4, Fuu was thrown into a brothel, just like Shino's predicament in episode 11.

After Mugen skips town and ditches the Yakuza, the thought of Fuu stuck in the brothel invades his mind, and compels him to turn back.

Note: Jin never thinks about Fuu stuck in the brothel.

After being unable to afford Shino, Jin is beaten by bouncers and trudges away, thinking about how Shino is sleeping with another man.

Both of these incidences occur during heavy rain.

Both think about their love interests trapped in the brothel which leads them to return to save them.

The Brothel Escape.

Both Mugen and Jin attempt to break their love interests out of a brothel.

On the second night they spend together, Jin concocts a plan to sneak Shino out of the brothel.

Never one to be discrete, Mugen’s plan to save Fuu involves breaking into the brothel, kicking open the cage doors, and pulling her out. However, to keep the MugenxFuu romance subtle and to have shippers rip their hair out Fuu escapes alone, and she never finds out about Mugen’s wild attempt to get her back. So, we never get the obviously romantic scene of him grabbing her arm and whisking her away. We just know that poor Mugen tried.

There is evident blood on his sword. He killed a person or multiple people to get back to her.

Mugen could have taken and freed any of these lovely ladies. But no.

Note: Jin is seen putting no effort into saving Fuu at all. When Jin initially sneaks into the brothel of Episode 3+4 disguised as a woman, he had no idea Fuu was there at the time. He was just helping the boy Sousuke save Osuzu. Later, even when he sees Fuu there, Jin never is shown putting in any effort to rescue her, nor thinking about it. If we assume he intended to, with his roundabout way of being involved with the Kawara gang, (who he was already helping anyway), Fuu would have already been bought by a client, because she was. (luckily the client did not have sex with her).

If this isn't enough of a mirror, Fuu and Shino escape the brothel in the exact same way: tying a series of clothes to the porch and sliding out the window.

Giving Up One’s Sword For a Woman

Shown in both episodes 6 and 8, Jin is extremely protective of his katana, saying that his swords are the equivalent of his soul as a samurai.

He adamantly refuses to part with them for any reason. He is also shown in episodes 14, 16 and 20 diligently polishing them.

On a different note, Mugen is not shown taking care of his swords as meticulously as Jin, nor as protectively. He is willing to pawn them off if it means being able to eat: shown in episode 6 and episode 8.

But his sword is no less important to Mugen, as he is shown carrying the same sai handled tsurugi in his flashbacks in the Ryukyuan Islands, implying he had carried it for a long time. For Mugen, the sword has nothing to do with some code of bushido, or philosophy. It serves the fundamental purpose of keeping him alive, which is something Mugen constantly struggles with.

In a brothel, swords are not allowed, as it is unsafe for the courtesans if there happened to be a violent client.

In Episode 25, Umanousuke is about to kill Fuu when Mugen arrives.

To spend time with Shino and free her, Jin willingly gives up his swords.

To save Fuu’s life and free her, Mugen gives up his sword in Episode 25.

Note: The only other example we have of Jin “giving up his swords” is comedy when Mugen and Fuu confiscates his swords against his will, so they can enter an eating contest in Episode 6.

Interestingly, the two men gave up their swords under reversed circumstances, yet with the same intentions.

Jin, who has always cherished his katana, ends up giving them up in a moment that he logically "shouldn't". He does what could be considered a frivolous activity of spending time with a prostitute, which completely goes against his personal code as a samurai.

Mugen, who had always been willing to give up his sword for the sake of survival, finally needs to keep his sword, or he will be brutally tortured and killed by Umanousuke. But instead, he gives it up anyway in this extremely critical moment, to save Fuu's life.

In the end, both men resorted to giving up their swords for one simple reason: love.

Red and Pink Color Composition

This one was very surprising for me, and the reason I ended up writing this entire post. The other examples until now are more obvious. But this? Mugen and Fuu's main colors are obviously red and pink. But...Jin and Shino?

Shino’s kimono color is light green, with a dark green collar. Jin’s color is dark blue.

However, when Shino is put in the brothel and takes on the name “Kohana”, she is seen throughout the majority of the episode wearing pink, with a burgundy collar. This is exactly Fuu’s kimono colors, and no other character in the series wears these colors that I can recall.

More interesting, is Shino’s brothel name becomes “Kohana”.

Kohana means “Flower Child”.

Fuu is the child of the “Sunflower Samurai”.

For the first time, I was suddenly faced with a serious question of "Was this name choice and kimono color put as a symbolism of Jin choosing to buy a woman that resembled Fuu?" And in turn, would this be one solid way to disprove so much that I've always thought and written about Jin being the father figure to Fuu?

But, then I noticed something else.

Shino only wears this pink and burgundy kimono in the brothel. It is not her true outfit.

And it is not only her who gets a "change" in appearance. Jin does too, in a sense. He gets an addition to his ensemble, only for this particular episode.

Every time Jin visits Shino in pink, he carries a bright red umbrella. Whenever she is in green, he does not have the umbrella. He visits her on four separate occasions when she’s a courtesan, always with the umbrella in tow.

The red umbrella is visually striking, as the atmosphere of this episode is particularly drab due to the rainfall.

The red umbrella becomes the connection between Jin and Shino during her stay in the brothel. It is significant, because it was initially hers, and was a gift to him since she had no use for it in the brothel anymore.

One can argue, “It’s raining and he just needed an umbrella.” But during his depressing walk, he carries it, but doesn't even use it, and we don’t even get to see it or its striking red color. (Which I will explain my interpretation as to why shortly).

We only know he’s holding it, because he continues to have it afterwards.

It is far more a symbol of his connection to her, than for practical use. Watching the episode, everyone else has drab brown and gray umbrellas. Even in Episode 4, Jin donned a drab brown umbrella.

In Japanese culture, red is famously the color that represents the “main character”. This is extremely common in many anime and video games, and particularly shown in the Super Sentai genre, in which every season since 1975 to present, the main character always dons red.

In the case of Samurai Champloo as well, Mugen is confirmed to be the “main character”, first developed by Shinichiro Watanabe, with Jin created later as his foil so the story did not become “one dimensional”, as he said. This is why most episodes focus on Mugen.

Episode 11 is the very first episode that focuses on Jin. Up until this point, Jin was never a rescuer. (He doesn’t even rescue Fuu until Episode 26).

With Shino, he finally fulfills the "noble hero saving the maiden" role.

More interesting, is the scene where the brothel bouncers attack Jin, who intentionally decides not to fight back. Jin loses his grip on the umbrella. This is my personal interpretation, but I think this could be a representation that Jin could not protect Shino, as she is forced to have sex moments later.

If it were Mugen being attacked, he would kill the men, repercussions or not, just as he did to the Yakuza in Episode 4. Mugen will always embody the “passionate red” that he wears.

But it does not suit Jin. He has chosen the lawful path, unlike Mugen’s chaotic nature of killing whoever stands in his way. Jin does not kill these men, since he has no reasonable cause, and does not risk the repercussions. It is his own fault, not theirs, that he can’t purchase or protect Shino.

In this scene, he not only drops the red umbrella, but Shino also drops her pink robes when she is undressed. They are not red and pink: they are not Mugen and Fuu. They are back to the cruel reality of being a different, more tragic tale of love in which he can’t protect her.

One of the attackers even picks up the umbrella, and throws it at him, as if to add more injury to insult in his failure.

In the ending of the episode, Shino no longer wears pink and burgundy, and is back in her original green kimono. Interestingly, Jin stops using this red umbrella at the exact same point she is back in green.

Since Shino is no longer a “maiden in distress in pink”, Jin no longer needs to be the “hero in red”. They no longer have to play this role. Their episode is at its close. The anime will return to Mugen and Fuu carrying out the dynamic of “hero and maiden”.

Jin will once again, play the role as the cool and collected “rival in blue” that foils the main protagonist.

One could still argue these color choices of red and pink were random and thoughtless. They very well could be. But, this is a Watanabe work, and colors often hold surprising symbolism in the anime he directs.

As a more solid example of color symbolism: here is a link to a fascinating video that reveals just how intentional the color palette is in Samurai Champloo's Episode 14. The choice of Mukuro's yellow versus Mugen's red and the episode ending on Koza in gray was all deliberate and was repeatedly shown in the episode's composition through various means, to subtly convey the story.

Flashing the Coin and “Buying”a Woman

Jin is shown to be the character who makes/finds money for the group the most. Even in this episode, he was working for the eel stand. Mugen meanwhile, makes money and spends it selfishly. But in this episode, it is Mugen making the money and Jin demanding it for a selfish purpose, reversing their roles once again. Jin is the main character now, and Mugen the foil.

Mugen flaunts the coin he made to impress Fuu, demanding her validation by tapping her head.

Jin flaunts the same exact coin (Mugen gave it to him), in a very similar way, to show he’s buying Shino.

Both men, in essence, are "buying time with a woman".

While Jin is, in a literal sense, using the money to purchase a prostitute, Mugen's is more figurative.

Mugen gives the money to Jin, causing him to go away, and leaving him and Fuu alone. Once Jin is back, they will once again be a trio, and the “pairing dynamic” between them will be shattered. But for that brief night, Mugen got time with Fuu.

Mugen, despite acting like he detests Fuu's company, does some very strange and completely uncharacteristic things in this episode. For one...he is the one to bring Fuu to the beetle wrestling match. Her dialogue implies she didn't want to go and Mugen dragged her along.

Then, despite being all stingy about the money with Fuu, he willingly gives the money to Jin to send him away to go to a brothel. For a man Mugen claims to despise, this is a remarkably thoughtful act. Especially when he said he was going to use the money to buy seeds to make more in beetle wrestling. Strangest of all, Mugen doesn't use the money himself for a prostitute. He chooses to stay at an inn, alone with Fuu, rather than the prospect of going to the brothel in town, even when he’s repeatedly shown being a womanizer.

I think this act shows both his selfish desire to spend time with Fuu alone, but also his selfless care for Jin as a friend. He killed two birds with one stone. In both cases, these are things Mugen would never admit to his companions.

With the exchange of that on koban coin between them, both Mugen and Jin have "bought time" with their respective love interests.

Helping to Save Each Other's Love Interest.

In every episode Fuu gets into trouble, Mugen is the one who saves Fuu, if she isn’t saving herself. Jin does not. But there is one exception to this: Episode 26. Jin saves Fuu for the first time, in the one moment Mugen can't, while also simultaneously avenging his father figure Mariya Enshirou.

In episode 11, Jin does not have his swords on him. But Mugen and Fuu arrive. Mugen cuts down many men to help them escape. And in addition, he knocks down a man right in front of Shino that Jin failed to incapacitate, before telling Jin “You’re pathetic!”

The Windowsill and the Mirror in the Same Room

This one is a very, VERY minor comparison, so don’t take this one seriously. I just thought the imagery was similar.

In Episode 18, where Mugen attempts to win Fuu in a tagging contest (yes, that was actually the plot: Here's a Post About It), Mugen and Fuu spend a small moment in the inn room alone.

In this inn room, Fuu is looking at herself in the mirror, when Mugen appears behind her.

Their faces are wonderful.

In the brothel room, Shino also looks in the mirror, when Jin is shown behind her.

Alone with their love interests, they sit on windowsills.

Again, very, very minor and I highly doubt it was intentional. But there is no other moment of window sill sitting that I can recall.

There is one other gazing into a mirror though: the end credits of Fuu and her mother. This relates her mother to Shino, aside from the fact that they have the same exact hair and wear green kimonos, and who are in love with a poor samurai who ends up wearing gray.

Parting Ways

In the defining moment of Jin and Shino parting, there is a distance of water separating them. But Jin must let her go to the temple to be free of the marriage: her final goal.

In the defining moment of Mugen and Fuu parting, a distance of the Church with Umanousuke is in the way, separating them. But Mugen tells her to go see her Sunflower Samurai: her final goal.

Neither Jin and Shino or Mugen and Fuu are allowed to touch or to embrace before this forced goodbye.

Jin is the one to push the boat away, even when Shino tries to reach out to him.

Mugen is the one who urges Fuu to run, even when Fuu hesitates and wants to stay.

Both Shino and Fuu are reluctant to leave Jin and Mugen behind.

Mugen and Jin remain stoic, even when their emotions must be running wild.

Fuu and Shino’s eyes well up, until they are unable to hold in the tears.

“The Love Triangle” Dilemma: A Lousy Gambler, A Noble Samurai and a Pure Maiden

Now, I am not saying that Mugen, Fuu and Jin is an actual love triangle. I firmly believe it isn't, as I have shown the evidence of the two romances above.

But I believe in Mugen's mind, there is a love triangle, and he’s the odd one out.

Yes, there is a sense that Fuu has insecurity about Jin's abandonment and is jealous of his attention to Shino. Personally though, I think this is in more relation to her father's abandonment, as Jin and Shino strikingly resemble Fuu's father and mother. Jin even gets Fuu’s father’s kimono in Episode 26, and likely his katana too, as his were broken.

But that aside, the relationship dynamics going on in Episode 11 are painfully satirical.

Shino, her husband, and Jin are an ugly representation of Fuu, Mugen, and Jin.

Jin is interfering with both of these "couples".

Shino's husband is an avid gambler, who fell into debt, causing her to be thrown into prostitution. It is no coincidence that Mugen is avidly gambling throughout this episode, and being chastised by Fuu.

Fuu’s words to Mugen are Shino’s words to her husband.

Mugen is being portrayed as the "lesser man", lacking in morals, while Jin takes on the mantle of the “gallant knight”. This again relates to the earlier concept that Jin has for the first time assumed the position as the “main character”.

This is likely why they chose “Gamblers and Gallantry” as the English title for Episode 11. Note that Gamblers is plural. (Also, the original Japanese title is Fallen Angel).

Fuu’s “jealousy” in this episode is used in the narrative to make Mugen believe she loves Jin, and not him. We see this again, in Episode 20. The one and only time Fuu cries for Jin is comical, compared to her over five emotional times for Mugen, still causes Mugen to stomp off with jealousy and annoyance.

Our first indicator of Mugen harboring jealousy of Jin stems from Episode 11 and piles up more as the show goes on.

There is three separate implied occasions in this specific episode 11.

1. Mugen states that Fuu is jealous that Jin is seeing Shino. But when he says this, it is him to roll over away from her. It is almost a blatant indicator that he is sulking. Then, he feigns sleeping and snoring.

We know his sleeping is fake because upon closer inspection....

His eyes are open and his eyebrows are furled angrily. This “faking sleep” is a trick he repeats three times total in the anime, always concerning Jin and Fuu.

2. When Fuu gets upset at Jin about leaving the group for good, Mugen pretends to sleep yet again, but was listening to the whole thing.

His facial expression is almost sad looking here. Very uncharacteristic indeed.

Note: The very last time Mugen pretends to sleep, is Episode 24, when Fuu hugs Jin on the riverbank. It appears here, that Mugen didn't hear or understand what they were talking quietly about. The dialogue is hard to interpret but it seems Fuu rejected Jin’s dutiful offer to stay with her after the journey close. She seems to confide her feelings for Mugen to Jin in this extremely subtle scene, by mentioning him out of the blue, crying, and then apologizing to Jin for it. Rather than embrace Fuu romantically, Jin comforts her with a hand upon her shoulder, in an understanding that is, by my interpretation, very fatherly.

3. Back to Episode 11, when Fuu decides to help Jin, despite being angry at him for abandoning them, Mugen says some telling dialogue. This scene, Mugen and Fuu are running through town together, just as Jin and Shino are.

If Mugen only stuck around solely to kill Jin, then this exchange makes one question why is he still hanging around Fuu. We also know Mugen was listening the whole time when Jin states "If I don’t return, I want you two to continue your journey without me." It is as if he's trying to convince Fuu to be "over" with Jin.

But this isn't the only time Mugen is fine with taking Fuu to find the sunflower samurai alone. Mugen also agrees to travel with Fuu in ep 21 alone, when they think Jin is leaving for good with Sara, and makes no indication of leaving her to do battle with Jin.

Despite all the jealousy of Jin, and all the intentional comparison that Mugen bears with Shino's husband, we know Mugen is not actually like Shino's husband at all.

On the surface, perhaps, he seemed like an irresponsible, lawless lecher who frivolously wastes money. But in actuality, he is honorable and deeply cares about Fuu, saving her and worrying about her in every single episode something bad befalls her.. Mugen does more noble deeds for Fuu than Jin ever does.

While “Gamblers” apply to Mugen and Shino’s husband, the “Gallantry” applies to Mugen and Jin just as much.

That is why, unlike Shino’s husband, Mugen wins in gambling. And that is why, despite making money gambling, he generously gave it all to Jin.

The secretly gallant character of this episode was Mugen. Had he not given/borrowed this money to Jin, Jin would have never been able to save Shino at all.

How the Relationships Differ

While these comparisons highlight that Jin and Shino is equivalent to Mugen and Fuu, there are some directly opposite characteristics as well. Just as Mugen and Jin are opposite.

Jin and Shino are calm and quiet. Mugen and Fuu are passionate and loud.

Jin and Shino wear cold colors of green and blue, while Mugen and Fuu don warm colors of red and pink.

Shino is older than Jin. Fuu is younger than Mugen.

While Shino is forced to give herself to men and Jin can’t save her, Fuu is saved from this fate many times by Mugen.

Mugen and Fuu spend an entire, long journey together. Jin and Shino’s time together is fleeting. Mugen and Fuu appear together every episode. Jin and Shino only get one.

Ironically, Jin and Shino consummate their love in this short time, while Mugen and Fuu do not.

The relationships are remarkably the same story but from opposite ends of a spectrum.

Conclusion

Mugen and Jin may be opposites, but they are also like Yin and Yang. Both characters are a duality of one another, possessing opposite traits in their appearances and attitudes, and yet bearing similar beliefs and morals. In the love department, it turns out that they are also two sides of the very same coin.

After discovering the parallels between these two romances, I was utterly blown away. This concept of duality is the entire point of Mugen and Jin’s dynamic in every other sense.

The love they bore for Fuu and Shino highlighted this concept in another new, astonishing way.

Mugen and Jin both bear something else in common. Even though Jin and Shino is far more an obvious romance due to the sexual consummation of the coupling, Jin and Mugen still relate in one way: they never directly express their love for Shino or Fuu words.

Jin comes off as “old fashioned” with his “I hope that the rain will never stop so I can stay here forever.”, Mugen comes off as “unromantic” by never saying kind and romantic words to Fuu. Their love was wholly expressed through action. Words are unneeded.

Finally, even though Jin and Shino part ways, and even though Mugen and Fuu (and Jin) part in the finale, hope still exists that they will meet again someday.

Both tales of love do not have tragic endings, but neither does either obtain closure. Their hopeful future is left up to you, the viewer, to determine.

Perhaps, their reunions with their loved one, will be a mirror too.

#samurai champloo #fuugen #jin samurai champloo #mugen samurai champloo #fuu samurai champloo

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itsallyscorner · 3 years

Note

Hey Ally idk if you are taking requests at the moment but if you are could you write something really fluffy with either Sebastian or Bucky! I am just not having a good time right now and would really appreciate anything you got! If you need a more specific idea i can come up with one just let me know and obviously no rush ♥️

Hiya hun! I hope this brightens your day/night and gets your spirits up💛 Sending all my love and good energy to you, happy reading!

💌.

Flowers and Nutella

Your body felt as if it were glued to the bed. The warm covers you’ve been wrapped in all night brought you comfort and served as a protection from the cold of the harsh world. Today had been one of those days. You know those days, the ones where you wake up and it seems like the world is out to ruin you. You didn’t want to get out of bed because it was like you were dreading of going through with the day.

The past week had been difficult. A failed mission; false leads that ended up being a mouse trap. You were put in charge of Peter, it had been one of the few Avengers mission he was allowed to come along on. You lot were supposed to collect data about an ex SHIELD agent selling alien weapons to different buyers, including Hydra members. The whole thing turned out to be a trapped, long story short, it ended up with Peter getting shot in the shoulder by one of the weapons. Thankfully, Banner and Dr.Cho knew how to patch it up so he was safe, back to the energetic bright eyed puppy he was.

The week had just been hard to get through completely. The affects of those events had finally taken its toll on you and decided to pile up on you during this gloomy morning. You didn’t plan on leaving your room. All you wanted was to watch things on Netflix, eat, and just stay in your safe haven. Your room.

You had been watching Gossip Girl once again when a knock was heard from your door. You didn’t feel like interacting with anyone so you didn’t answer it. A few minutes pass and the door slowly creeks.

Outside Bucky was dressed in gym shorts and a loose gray shirt. His hair was twisted up in a bun, something he had learned from you and grown to love. It was Saturday and the two of you usually had training sessions together in the morning. When you didn’t respond to your door he grew concerned. Usually you were up and going, bouncing on the balls of your feet as your pony tail swayed side to side.

His head peeks behind your door and the sight in front of him makes him furrow his brows. You were far from ready, barely even close. You were in bed, wrapped in your blankets, eyes heavy as you watched some show on your tv.

“(Y/n)? Doll?” He calls out to you, slowly entering your room. The atmosphere was heavy as he took in the darkness and chilling temperature in your room.

Your hair rustled against your pillow as you move your head to look at him. You squint at him as the light from the window poured into your room. Bucky had pulled open the curtains and turned up the thermostat in your room.

“Buck? Hey, what are you doing here?” You eye his attire and groan.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I forgot we had training today.” You apologized squeezing your eyes shut. It was as if you couldn’t do anything right lately.

Bucky waved you off settling himself beside your legs on your bed. He nudges your thigh with his elbow, “No worries. But are you okay? You never forget our training days and you’re usually bouncing from wall to wall by now.” His soft voice fills your room flowing like honey. You feel a swell in your chest at how comforting his voice was.

“What’s going on, darling?” He looks at you, eyes full of concern as they plead you to tell him what’s wrong. You sigh and push your cheek against your pillow. One of your arms curling underneath the cushion while the other gripped to your blanket.

You shrug the shadow of a smile on your chapped lips, “I don’t know. Just don’t feel up for anything today. I just want to lay here and rest.”

Bucky sends you a comforting smile as his large hand comes to rub the small of your back, “It’s alright, sometimes we need breaks from the outside world.”

A small smile forms on your lips, though it didn’t bring that crinkle by your eyes, a sign that you were genuinely happy.

He looks around before his sparkling blue eyes come to land on you again. “D’ya need anything before I head to the gym?”

You hum shaking your head, “Nope, thank you though.”

Bucky nods and claps his hands against his thigh. Getting up and leans forwards to poke your nose, “Alright. Give me a call if you need anything, I’ll be here.” You let out a simple, “mmk” as he turns to leave your room.

The door shuts behind him as he presses his back onto it. Screw the gym, he thought to himself. You were clearly upset and there was a voice in his head telling him to go fix it. You probably didn’t want him prodding in on your rest day but he just wanted to see a smile on your face.

His long legs take him to the kitchen where Wanda, Nat, and Sam were. “Ladies.” He greets them, nodding his head. A silent look was sent to him by Nat, probably because she hadn’t had her coffee yet. Wanda sends him a smile as she uses her powers to cook multiple dishes for breakfast.

“Sam.” He greets his friend who responds to him with a grunt. Bucky shoves himself to a stool at the counter as he tries to come up of ways to cheer you up.

Wanda glances at him, “I don’t think she would enjoy a picnic outside, she likes to stay in her room when she wants a break.”

Bucky’s eyes move from the marbled counters to the back of Wanda’s auburn hair. “Well what do you think she would like right now? I walked in and and she just looked so out of it.”

Natasha sighed as he inhaled the rich smell of coffee, “Barnes just leave her alone, she’s had a rough week, let her get some rest.”

Bucky grumbled a frown on his face, “But she looked so sad, I can’t just leave her like that.”

The elevator dings as the doors slide open. All heads turn towards the hall as they see Peter come out from the elevator. His backpack was slung over his shoulder as greeted all of them with a boyish grin.

“Hey guys!” A round of “mornings” is heard amongst the group as Peter enters the kitchen. He looks over Wanda’s shoulder as his hand reaches under her arm to grab a piece of bacon.

The witch rolls her eyes as she swats his back, “You could’ve burned your fingers, Pete.” She scolded him motherly.

“I’m fine, what’s up guys?” Peter answers with the strip of bacon hanging from his mouth. He places his backpack on the floor and joins the others at the counter. Bucky glances at the boy. Maybe he would know a way to cheer you up. The both of you had been hanging out together a lot since you were his mentor, besides Tony, of course.

“Parker, what’s something that’ll get (y/n) to cheer up?” The boy perks up at your name.

“Flowers and a jar of Nutella.” He answers almost immediately, a proud grin on his face. His quick answer earned him some looks from his older team mates.

“How would you know that, Parker?” Nat asks him, sitting in the stool beside him. Peter fiddles with his fingers as he adjusts himself in his seat. His mouth opens to answer but Sam interrupts him.

“Someone gotta crush on (y/n)?” Sam teases the teenager. Peter’s eyes widen as his cheeks turn rosy, a clutter of stutters coming out his out.

“N-No! I mean— she’s pretty, really pretty. Beautiful in fact, but no, I don’t—I don’t have a crush on Ms. (y/n).” He manages to defend himself. A poor attempt of a defense in Sam’s opinion. Sam shakes his head at the boy, “Buck, looks like you’ve got competition.”

Peter’s eyes almost fall out their sockets at the mention of Bucky. The boy stares at the metal arm that could choke and kill him in an instant. “No! You don’t have any competition Mr. Barnes, sir, I swear.”

Nat smirks from beside him as Wanda chimes from behind them, “I could read minds, Peter!” She sang.

“How do you even know she likes flowers and Nutella?” Natasha asks him.

“Um—I asked her to go to prom with me, remember? She said she’ll only go with me if I buy her flowers and a jar of Nutella.” Peter answers. Bucky was up at his feet at an instant, patting his shorts for his wallet. When he felt the bulky object he glanced at the elevator. Walking behind Peter, he pats the boy’s back with his metal hand. Peter jumps almost yelping in his seat.

“Thanks, Parker.” Bucky chuckles then walks to the elevator.

He takes a train to get around the city. He ends up at the nearest retail store, looking through the shelves for Nutella and other things you might like. Once he had two bags full of treats and gifts he approaches the man outside the store who had a cart full of flowers. He didn’t know if you had a preference, but he chose the brightest out of the bunch. To him it represented your personality and the effect you had on his life.

He rushes back to the compound, bags in each hand and a bouquet of flowers under each arm. The sight of him might’ve been funny, a large bulky man with arms full of colorful flowers, a teddy bear, and all the cheesy pick me up gifts. He enters the kitchen not bothering to greet the others. Though he stops to take out two spoons from the drawers. Steve looks at him curiously while Sam nods at him in approval.

He heads straight to your room, excited to give you all the gifts he’s gotten you. He knocks on the door with the top of his foot, “I’m coming in!” He struggles to twist the knob of the door but he somehow manages to get it to open.

He slams the door shut with his back and greets you with a wide smile. Your eyes widen at him in shock.

“Surprise!” He yells happily. You feel your lips tug themselves upwards at him. You shuffle around in your bed, moving the blankets out the way.

“What’s all this?” You ask him trying to peer into the bags. He places them on the floor, gesturing for you to sit back.

“Alright, first off, here’s some flowers.” He grins handing you the two colorful bouquets. A giggle erupts from you as you take them from him. You take a whiff of the flowers, the floral smell entering your senses.

He digs through the bag and pulls out a large jar of Nutella. You gasp as Bucky presents it to you with a golden spoon from the kitchen. He hands them to you then bends back down to go through the bag.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted some snacks, so I got some cookies, your favorite chips, crackers, some wine. I didn’t bother getting a cup, just chug the bottle.” He explains placing each item onto your bed.

“I also got you a teddy bear. But they had too many and I didn’t know which one you’d like so I got the bear, a llama, and a dog.” He chuckles bopping your face with the llama’s snout. You laugh as you try to hold all of them in your arms.

“Oh yeah, and here’s some candy.” He places at least five boxes of different kinds of candy onto your lap. You look at him in awe, the joy bursting in your chest at his lovely gesture. The happiness soon became too much and your eyes began to water. The proud smile on Bucky’s face falters, his shoulders slumping. He crouches in front of you, hands beside your legs.

“No! Doll, what’s wrong? Was it the candy? Do you not like skittles? Or is it the Hershey’s kisses? I could take them back! Do you not like the llama?” Questions began to roll off his tongue as he stared up at you. His thumbs came up to wipe stray tear from your face. A laugh bubbles from your chest, your free hand gripping onto his wrist.

“No, Bucky, this is just—no one’s really done this for me before. Thank you.” You smile at him through your tears. “Thank you, I really really appreciate it. You didn’t have to do all of this honestly.” You sniffled fiddling with the plush llama’s fur.

“It’s fine doll, honestly. Anything to see that smile on your face.” He grins up at you, happy with himself that he got to bring the smile that formed crinkles to the side of your eyes. You giggle once again and place all the gifts on your bed, you leans towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck and hiding your face into his neck. Bucky sighs in content, his metal hand coming up to stroke circles onto your back.

“Thank you, Buck.” You whisper against the skin of his neck. Bucky presses a kiss to your temple, “Anytime darling.”

You pull away and organize the things on your bed. You sit against the headboard did your bed and motion for him to join you.

“I’m gonna need help eating all of this.” You tease him. He settles beside you, arm around your shoulder. He reaches for a pack of Reese’s and rips it open with his teeth.

“Well good thing I’m a super soldier.” He chuckles tuning into the movie on your tv. You get curious and look at him.

“How did you know about the flowers and Nutella though?” You question him with a raised brow.

“Spider-boy.” He answers mouth full of the peanut butter cups. You laugh and lean back into his arm. You reach for the jar of Nutella and twist it open, pealing of the gold seal. Your spoon dips into the chocolate, breaking the smooth surface.

Bucky glances at you, “Feelin’ better?”

The spoon hangs from the corner of your mouth, savoring the delicious spread, “Much better.”

#marvel #mcu #avengers #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes headcanon #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan imagine #winter solider #ally’s requests

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Stalker X Stalker, Part 13

First

Perma taglist: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo @khneltea @raeuberprinzessin

Tim was in the middle of a particularly boring meeting when a tiny buzz in his pocket alerted him that Marinette had left the house.

He blinked a little and, after mumbling a quick apology, pulled out his phone to silence it.

He couldn’t tell where she was going right then, it was too early to tell, but he noted absently that she was walking a little faster than normal. He shook his head to himself and resolved to check again once the meeting was over.

But he didn’t have to!

His secretary rushed in just as his last business partner left. She looked frazzled. “I tried to keep them out but they insisted and --!”

“Who? What? Janet, what’s wrong --?”

His attention was quickly pulled away from her, though, because Marinette was stumbling through the threshold.

He rushed forward to catch her on instinct, slipping his arms around her tightly. “Bean?”

She pulled her face out of his chest and smiled awkwardly at him. “Uh… hi, darling. Hate to disturb you during work, but...”

Tim frowned, concerned. He didn’t think she was clumsy (and he would have noticed by now if she was) and, now that he was looking, she looked a little pale. Was she sick? Did she even get sick?

And then he noticed someone standing in the doorway she had stumbled through -- no, she had been pushed through it, he thought as he took in the blond’s cold expression. Tim’s frown deepened and his grip tightened on his girlfriend.

Then, the blond sighed. “I’m Adrien, her friend from Paris. Don’t know if she’s told you about me, though.”

Tim’s eyes narrowed just a little. “Janet, it’s my lunchtime, right?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, looking between the three of them with barely concealed interest.

“Great. Lock the door behind yourself, please.”

Janet seemed a little put out but nodded and went to do what he asked without complaint. He made a mental note to give the poor girl a raise.

He waited until he heard the familiar click of the lock before turning his gaze back onto Adrien. The blond’s scowl had deepened. Tim bit his lip anxiously, considering what deescalation method would be best, but he didn’t know enough yet. He decided to just wait a little longer before doing anything. Marinette was safe in his arms and Adrien was still a little away so there wasn’t any immediate danger as far as he was aware.

“So, you do know his schedule, then?” Adrien asked.

Marinette wouldn’t quite look at the man. “We live in the same house.”

“Did you know before you were living in the same house?” He pressed.

She didn’t answer.

Adrien scoffed a little, shaking his head. “Of course. I knew I should have kept you in Paris where I could see you.”

Well, that’s a little controlling, a tiny part of Tim piped up. He would have said it aloud, too, but there was something bugging him about the blond. He couldn’t place it, but he was pretty sure he recognized him from somewhere...

It clicked and he took a half-step back with Marinette still silent in his arms. “Agreste, right?”

The blond winced. “Dupain-Cheng now,” Adrien said carefully. “In everything but name, at least, I’m still waiting to see if I can get a name change.”

Tim glanced down at Marinette for confirmation and she quirked her lips upward, which was bat for ‘yes’.

He relaxed just a little and let her go now that he knew it was safe. Okay. So, this was just her friend -- no, her brother -- and apparently he was annoyed about something. Their relationship, maybe, since he had brought her to Tim’s work.

… oh, shit, maybe this was Chat Noir. Tim’s eyes flicked down to where the ring usually was in pictures and, yep, that was the same ring but in white. That explained how he’d gotten there quickly despite the fact that he had to be on the no-fly list with a father like that.

But his anger seemed focused on Marinette, which was odd. Tim had figured it would be pretty even.

Tim cracked a grin. “Nice to meet you. You could have just called, though.”

Adrien looked a little sheepish, now, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “What I need to tell you isn’t really the kind of thing you can tell someone over the phone.”

“I meant a call for an appointment. You’re my girlfriend’s brother, I obviously would have wanted to meet you in person.”

He snickered. “You’d be the first. Most people don’t want to meet the family for a good long while.”

Tim shrugged. “I would have liked to know when you’d appear. Easier to prepare that way.”

“I see.”

There was a beat as the two men sized each other up before Adrien sighed and leaned back against the door. “I guess it’s easier to show you than explain it to you.”

Tim watched with interest as Adrien pulled an object from his ear and tossed it over. He caught it easily and turned the object in his fingers. It was like his comm but it was red with black polka-dots.

Oh. He knew what this was.

He handed it over to Marinette without even bothering to listen (Who wants to hear their own voice? No one. Ew.).

“Yeah, she listens in on all of my conversations, I know.”

Marinette and Adrien both froze up, then turned their gazes on him in shock. Tim might have laughed if Adrien’s expression didn’t morph into a horrified look.

“You… you know I planted bugs on you?” Asked Marinette tentatively.

“I’ve known since day one -- I think. Or, at least, near day one,” said Tim with a shrug. He pointed over at the flower on his desk, the bug hidden in the petals. “I don’t mind, though, that’s just part of being a vigilante, in my opinion.”

“You’re a --? Nevermind, that’s not the point here.” He sighed and shook his head. “No, it’s not. She does this to all her crushes.”

“I do it to anyone I care about.”

Adrien seemed to think he was insane.

Marinette, however, was nodding vigorously. “See?! I told you! It’s a thing!”

“It’s a thing,” agreed Tim. “Everyone in my family does it, too, though we tend to prefer trackers and following people to auditory bugs…”

“What the heck?” Muttered Adrien.

Tim continued on despite this: “Even Duke does it sometimes, and he’s the closest thing we have to sane, so it’s probably okay.”

Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose and glared at nothing for a while, clearly thinking hard about how to approach this. Tikki floated out of Marinette’s purse to go over and pet his hair in an attempt at comfort. It wasn’t working, but at least someone tried. Eventually, he pulled out his phone.

“Stalking: the act or crime of willfully and repeatedly following or harassing another person in circumstances that would cause a reasonable person to fear injury or death especially because of express or implied threats.”

“... I haven’t followed or harassed him,” said Marinette.

“And I’m trying to prevent injury or death. Have you met Marinette? Leave her alone for too long and she will find a new way to get herself killed.”

Marinette huffed. “Like you’re any different. I can already count at least three major villains that you regularly piss off and I’ve only lived here a few months.”

“One of the first things you said to any of us was that you had broken your leg but it was fine. I have reason to be concerned.”

Adrien groaned. “We’re getting off topic here, guys. The point is that this is the textbook definition of stalking --.”

“But neither of us feel even a little bit uncomfortable about it,” Marinette argued.

“That would cause a reasonable person to fear injury or death. Clearly, neither of you are reasonable.”

Tim shook his head. “That’s not really what the reasonable person clause is for. It’s for people that are trying to get money over nothing.”

“It still applies!”

Tikki shook her head. “Adrien, they’re not going to get it.”

“But they need to.”

“We’re still here, y’know,” said Tim. Marinette waved her arms in the air to see if they had somehow gone invisible.

“They don’t want to,” Tikki explained gently, ignoring them.

Alright, they were going around in circles it seemed and Adrien and Tikki weren’t responding well to their current arguments… so, new arguments were needed. A short recess was called so the two teams could discuss their rebuttals in opposite corners of the room. When had this turned into a debate? Who knows.

They decided to go after morality first (it seemed like the best bet since they were all vigilantes): “Bean, you’re happy, right?”

“Yep. You?”

“Of course. Happier than I was when I was single, that’s for sure.”

Marinette blushed a little and laced her fingers with his. “Great. Me too. Now, Adrien, don’t you want us to be happy?”

Adrien scoffed. “Okay, no, you don’t get to do that. I obviously want you to be happy but I don’t want you to be in an unhealthy relationship. Because that’s what this is: unhealthy.”

“Unusual doesn’t necessarily mean unhealthy,” said Marinette with a frown.

“No, it doesn’t, but… listening in on his private conversations? Following and tracking her? Don’t you think that maybe you should be setting more firm boundaries with each other?”

“... nah,” said Tim.

“How about this: if he crosses a line I’ll tell him.”

“You don’t have lines and that’s the problem!”

Tim shook his head. “Adrien, I can tell you’re trying to help but, really, it’s fine.”

… fine. Time for their last real argument.

“Would you prefer we ‘stalk’ some random civilian?” Asked Tim. “Or you? Don’t you think it’s best we’re together rather than with some person who wouldn’t be able to deal with ‘stalkers’?”

“Sure, but it would be better if you worked on yourselves before getting into relationships,” said Tikki with a sigh.

Marinette groaned. “Gods, this is never going to work. It’s a love language, Adrien, why can’t you just understand that?”

“Love?!” Tim and Adrien said in unison, though the expressions on their faces couldn’t be more different.

“You love me?” Asked Tim.

Marinette’s face flared red. “I -- uh -- um --... yeah…?”

Holy shit, he's won at life.

“I love you, too,” he said quietly.

“It’s only been a few months, what the heck?” Adrien whisper-yelled. They ignored him.

Marinette pulled him down by the front of his shirt for a short kiss. Then, she split into a grin. “I said it first.”

“Not really, I did,” said Tim, smiling fondly.

“No no no I did. I have two witnesses to testify. You said ‘too’, I win.”

“Hm. Nope.”

“You can’t just --!” She huffed. “Stop smiling like that, it's hard to argue with you.”

He only smiled wider. She pouted until he pecked her lips.

Adrien dropped into one of the business chairs and hung his head.

“... I think I made it worse, somehow.”

Tikki patted his hair again.

Adrien ended up accepting them, albeit a little reluctantly. Marinette and Tim were right, after all: it was better that they ‘stalked’ each other rather than some random person who could/would take it worse.

Now, apparently, it was time for the shovel talk.

“Her parents are huge softies so this falls to me. You’d better not hurt her. She may be an idiot and a stalker --”

“Hey!”

“-- but she is still my sister.”

Tim gave a tiny smile. “Yeah, I get it. You’ll kill me if I hurt her and, since you have the power of destruction, there won’t be any way to bring me back.”

“Oh, not quite. I’m going to ‘randomly misplace my ring’ and whatever happens while my ring is ‘missing’ is up to whoever happens to find it. You’d better hope that whatever you did was small enough that Mari would be merciful.”

Tim swallowed thickly. “Ah. I see.”

Adrien smiled a smile worthy of the model that he was and clapped Tim on the back. “Welcome to the family!”

“Yeah… yay…”

Marinette crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you done threatening my boyfriend?”

“No. If she --.” Adrien cut himself off with a laugh at the glare she sent him. “Kidding, kidding. Do you want some of Pere’s food.”

“Obviously. Tim, do you want some?”

Tim hesitated. Marinette tried not to laugh at how carefully he considered the question, as if he thought it was some kind of test and not two people trying to make up for taking up his lunch period.

“... sure?”

“Cool. Macaroons?”

Marinette scowled. “If you get us passionfruit macaroons I swear to the kwamis --.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll implement a systematic takedown of both me and everything I love, I get it. I’ll grab the tea ones you like.”

Tim raised his eyebrows. “You have contingencies for your friends? What’s mine?”

“... you do realize you have no powers, right?”

“Can’t believe even my own girlfriend underestimates me --.”

“I could drop an elephant on you and call it a day if I really felt like it.”

Tim paled. “I regret asking.”

Tim was sick the next day. That was kind of on him for forgetting that America has weirdly intense food safety standards, which meant food from other countries would likely mess him up. Also, he had no spleen. Wild that he had forgotten that but, nonetheless, there he was.

He groaned and buried his face in the pillow. How was it possible to feel cold and hot at the same time?

He heard the quiet creak of the floorboards and carefully opened one eye.

Marinette stood at the end of the bed, frown on her face, glass of water and a bowl of soup in each of her hands.

He reached a shaky hand for her and she handed him the water. He grumbled a little but his mouth was pretty dry, so he took it.

Once she was satisfied with his water-drinking, she took a seat beside him with the soup. When he made no move to eat it she rolled her eyes and set it aside temporarily in favor of pulling him on top of her. He smiled and rested his head on her stomach.

“You’re cute when you’re sick, maybe Adrien should bring over Pere’s food more often.”

He frowned. “But... work.”

“Don’t give me more reasons to do it,” she teased lightly.

When he pouted she leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. He stopped her with a hand.

“I’m sick.”

“And I’m a meta with an enhanced immune system that wants to kiss her dumbass boyfriend.”

He huffed a little but he didn’t try to stop her when she tried to kiss him a second time. He smiled and buried his face in her stomach, looping his arms around her like she was a pillow.

“How’d you know I was sick?” He asked after a few moments.

She snickered. “Well, I woke up and you were really warm instead of cold.”

“I’m cold?” Tim asked and, despite knowing that it was just a fact, he felt extremely insulted. Damian’s insults had nothing on the fact that his skin was, apparently, cold.

She smiled a little and pet his hair despite the fact that it was probably pretty gross at the moment. “It’s fine. I’m usually pretty warm so it balances out.”

“Awwwww, we reach thermodynamic equilibrium together,” he joked quietly. He let himself sink into her, closing his eyes.

She gave a tiny laugh. “Wow. Romance.”

He smiled. “It is.”

“Hm.” She pet his hair for a few moments longer before pulling them away. “Right, c’mon, get up. I made Alfred teach me to make your favorite kind of soup.”

He blinked an eye open. “Alfred? He knows?”

“Alfred knows everything, I think,” Marinette half-joked. She handed him the bowl and he sat up to eat some. “But I’m pretty sure everyone else at least suspects it, too. I followed all of you bats on Twitter, after all, and I only know a few of you out of costume.”

He nodded his understanding. “So all the secrets are out.”

“Yep. Now I don’t have to worry about accidentally calling people the wrong names when we’re all just hanging out. Still don’t know how you keep it all straight.”

“Nicknames, mostly. Less likely to slip up. Also Dick’s name works for both.”

Her lips twitched. “Yeah. I’m sure that’s why he uses the name Dick.”

“He never answered, y’know, when I said he had a degradation kink. You might be onto something,” he joked.

She grinned now. “I’m always right.”

“Hm. Sure.”

“Glad you agree. Now eat your soup.”

His grin dropped into a pout. “But my stomach hurts.”

“You’re sick, you need your energy to heal. Eat.”

He groaned but reluctantly took the soup when she pushed it into his hands.

She glanced over at the kid that they had taken in. They liked to stick around while Marinette made the food and, if possible, make it herself. She was pretty sure she was checking to make sure they didn’t drug her but Marinette didn’t mind. If it made the kid feel safer then she didn’t see why she wouldn’t allow it.

Now, the kid was mumbling curses in Russian.

She tipped her head to the side. She could chide her about her language but, considering the fact that it was in a language that she couldn’t conceivably understand, she let it go in favor of asking: “What’s wrong?”

“… I can still smell jalapeño on my fingers but my eye itches.”

“Oh.” Marinette handed her a towel. “Alright, Rordan, rub your eye with the side your hand hasn’t touched.”

Rordan wasn’t their actual name, obviously. It was actually Robin (it wasn’t an uncommon name in Gotham or anything, but she and Tim had both had to fight back their amused grins when they had… magically figured it out through completely legal means).

“Yeah, obviously, I’m not stupid.”

She grinned. “I can never be too sure anymore. I’ve cooked with rich kids before and you would be stunned at how little self-preservation instincts they have.”

The kid rolled her eyes. “Can’t be that stupid.”

Tim chose that moment to get off work. He stepped through the door, blinked at the second person in his house, then split into a grin.

“Hey, R...Ronda?” He greeted.

Robin smiled. “Still no.”

“Darn, maybe next time,” he said as if he wasn’t getting it wrong on purpose. He set his scarf on the coat rack and then walked over. “What’s for dinner?”

“For you? A microwaved meal that I’m going to try and pass off as my own cooking.”

Tim huffed. “Bean, come on, it was one time --.”

“And that ‘one time’ is enough to never let you in the kitchen again. C’mon, darling, three steps back.”

Tim groaned but stepped back until he was sitting on the kitchen island.

Robin turned off the burner. “Fajitas are done.”

He pouted playfully. “Can’t believe the kid is allowed to cook and I’m not. I’m an adult!”

“A hazard, that’s what you are,” Marinette teased, smiling. She let Robin set half of the food in her tupperware. “Want to eat with us this time?”

“No thanks.”

Tim nodded. “Alright. See you later?”

Robin glanced back at them from the windowsill. She gave a two finger salute, grinning. “Sure. Bye.”

They watched tiny fingers shut the window behind her before slipping out of view.

She reminded Marinette of an outdoor cat. Kinda just does what she wants and then drops by for food every once in a while; might want affection but probably not, do not approach unless approached; gets in a lot of dumb fights and then comes back with a messed up nose but acts like nothing happened and you’re insane for bringing it up…

Yeah. So, they now have another cat. At least they were both cat people?

Tim grinned as she handed him a plate. “Thanks, Bean. Any progress?”

“Nope,” Marinette said, taking a seat beside him and resting her head on his shoulder. “But she’ll see that we’re safe eventually. I can wait for that.”

He hummed his understanding. “Can’t wait until we make enough progress to be able to eat with her.”

She grinned. “Your bar is too high, darling. It’d be nice if she gave us her actual name.”

“Yeah… I’m still holding out for it, though. She has, what, six years before she is able to legally get a job and won’t need us? We should be able to have food with her once in six years, don’t you think?”

Marinette smiled. “Kwami, I sure hope so.”

Tim rested his head on the windowsill, a tiny frown on his face.

They were on a stakeout. According to Sources there was supposed to be a handoff within the next week.

Marinette sat down beside him and pushed himself up some to send her an awkward grin.

She offered him some Oreos from the packet she held.

There was a long silence as they sat there, listening to the warehouse through their comms. The most interesting thing so far had been the fly buzzing past one of their bugs.

“This feels like cheating,” she said with a sigh.

“I know, right?”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “Also you guys’ bugs are better quality than mine and I hate that.”

He snickered. “I can… ‘lose’ some bugs for you if you want.”

“You’d end up ‘losing’ too many.”

He thought for a minute, then shook his head. “Not if we put it in my watch.”

“Doesn’t it get stolen every other week?”

“Sure, but B replaces it all the time. Still more sustainable than bugging every item I wear.”

She thought about it for a minute before smiling at him. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Marinette sat in a coffee shop, sipping a cup of coffee as she tried to explain to Kagami Tsurugi that, no, a full ball gown wasn’t possible in three days and that she should have given more warning. The power in their apartment building had gone out while she was talking to a client and her phone had low power so… nearest coffee shop. There was free wifi, places to plug in her phone, and, of course, coffee.

A glance at the time showed that Tim would be off work in about half an hour. Hm. She went alone. She figured she’d see him there, anyways.

She blinked as a hand tapped her on the shoulder, expecting to see Tim, only to find the friendly barista that had given her her coffee. She whispered to Kagami that she needed to hold and lowered the phone a little.

“Here, ma’am, I’m sorry I forgot this earlier. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Marinette stared at the new drink that had been shoved in her hand. There was some writing on the label.

Dont look now but theres a man watching you.

And an arrow pointing to her right.

Marinette smiled up at the woman. “It’s alright. Thank you.”

The woman didn’t seem all that convinced, so Marinette spun around in her seat. “Darling, you’re being a creep, get over here.”

“I’m not a creep! You were on the phone!” He complained, but he walked over and took a seat across from her.

“Excuses, excuses.”

The poor barista looked so confused.

She sent her a smile. “Thanks for looking out for me.” She handed over a twenty. “For the drink. Keep the change.”

The woman left and Tim pulled out his computer to do some extra work while Marinette finished up her phone call. Then, she smiled at him.

“A random lady found you. You’re off your game.”

He pouted. “I was being obvious on purpose. Wanted to see if you could find me.”

“Maybe I just think you’re cute when you don’t know people are watching you.”

He did little more than raise an eyebrow at her disbelievingly. She grinned and leaned across the table to kiss him on the nose.

After a few second’s thought she pulled out her phone and changed Tim’s name to Spy-derman.

He snickered at the tiny notification, rolling his eyes. “Great.” Then he squinted at the name. “I never asked: why Spiderman?”

She grinned. “Well, the first time we met we met on the roof of a super tall building… but the door was super creaky and loud so all I could imagine was you swinging up there like Spiderman… wait, actually, did you?”

He rolled his eyes again. “You were just too concentrated on your work to hear me.”

“... oh. Well. that’s less fun. I’m choosing to ignore that.” She grinned. “Still can’t believe you called me Frenchie of all things. Did you use all two of your brain cells for that one?”

He gasped as if offended. “It was a reference to that character from The Boys.”

“Of course it was. Fucking nerd.”

He pecked her on the lips. “You love me, though.”

“Hm. Yeah. I do.”

#i almost feel bad for ending it without getting them professional help #but like #they were never going to do that as characters #and there wasn't a natural way to change it #so...#happy?? ending #stalker x stalker #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #tim drake #red robin

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