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casuallyimagining · 3 years

Text

Fix You (2)

hybrid!Min Yoongi x female!reader

Summary: When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal? Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, fluff Word Count: 2,987 Rating: M Warnings (may not appear in every part): minor character is a dick to animals, mentions of a gun, main character injury (non-serious), discussion of physical abuse, emotional abuse, discussion of sexual abuse, discussion of self-harm

Notes: Banner by @birbdae; thanks to @voiceswithoutlips, @taetaesbaebaepsae, and @hoebii for editing this for me.

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When you woke up, the cat was nowhere to be found, and your pillow was missing. It was just your luck that the random cat you had saved would end up being a kleptomaniac. You sighed and began to get ready for your day. It wasn’t like you could do anything about it. The cat was probably scared and confused, and you couldn’t blame him for wanting to be comfortable.

As you passed your TV stand, you bent down to peer underneath it. Copper eyes stared back at you. You greeted the cat and his tail swished back and forth against the floor, annoyed. So he wasn’t into mornings, then.

Heading into the kitchen, you quickly made yourself a cup of coffee. If the cat wasn’t a morning person, then you would probably get along. You were an early riser, but that was mostly due to insomnia, not because you actually enjoyed being awake.

You brought him the rest of the chicken you had cut up the night before, prepared with his morning dose of the antibiotics. Laying down on the floor, you pushed the plate under the TV stand for him.

He sniffed at the chicken, eyes not leaving your face as he started to eat. His canines were long and pointy, you noticed, and if you paid attention when his mouth was closed, you could barely see the tip of the right one poking out from his lips.

“I’m going to go shopping today to get you some stuff.” The cat didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t. He was a cat. “I know you’re feeling better, but please try not to jump on stuff. You’ll hurt yourself more, and I really can’t afford another weekend trip to the vet.” His copper eyes seemed to soften at that for a moment before hardening back into a glare.

You weren’t sure what you did to make the cat constantly glare at you. Maybe he had a resting grouch face. Maybe he was just uncomfortable in his new surroundings. You hoped that, if nothing else, he would eventually warm up to you. All the pets you’d had in the past had opened up to you right away, although you supposed that was because they were babies when your family had adopted them. You’d never adopted an adult cat before.

“Eat up,” you told him before pushing yourself off the floor. “I’ll be back soon.”

The pet store was larger than you remembered it being. When you were a kid shopping with your mother for your pets, there were only a few departments in the store. There was, of course, sections for cats and dogs, as well as areas for fish, birds, reptiles, and small mammals. Now though, in addition to the old departments, there were additional sections for hybrids of all kinds--there was even a department dedicated to large and exotic hybrids like lions, panthers, giraffes, and elephants.

Hybrids weren’t a new species by any means, but it had only been in the past decade or so that people had fully started to embrace them in society. Before, shops that catered to hybrids were usually small and boutique--hybrids used to only be seen as pets or servants, and ones that lived without ownership were few and far between. But after fighting for and receiving the rights they deserved, hybrids had become more prevalent in society. There was even a hybrid serving in the president’s cabinet, and quite a few serving in other high-ranking government positions.

You wandered through the cat section of the pet store, unsure of what to buy. You had a couple toys in your cart--catnip mice and little springs and balls that had bells in them. You knew the cat was somehow going to act offended by them, but you reminded yourself that he’s a cat, and indoor cats needed something to stimulate their minds.

You also had put some cat shampoo in your cart. The cat was dirty, and you weren’t sure how much blood was going to be caked into his fur under the bandage, so you figured a bath was somewhere in his immediate future.

Sighing, you grabbed a bag of air-dried food. He would probably hate that, too, but you couldn’t keep feeding him raw chicken. For one thing, you couldn’t stand the feel of it, and the less you had to touch the raw meat, the better. But also, chicken was expensive, and while your job paid decently, you weren’t sure how well it could support an all-raw diet for the cat. This air-dried food was turkey and salmon, and would be the next closest thing to raw.

Eventually, you would probably end up getting the cat a cat tree, but you didn’t think it was a good idea right now. With his shoulder injury, he really shouldn’t be climbing or jumping, and a cat tree would only invite that more. So you left the aisle, even though they had a tree that had a little house you knew he would love to hide in.

Before checking out, you stopped by the little kiosk that sold ID tags and collars. You knew he would hate wearing a collar, but if he ever escaped, you wanted to know someone could return him to you. You would ask the vet about microchipping later, but for now, a collar would have to do. Looking at the options, you couldn’t help but laugh. Most of the plain collars were pink or had things like little butterflies on them. A few had bells, which you knew he would find absolutely repulsive, and a couple others had bowties. You considered a dark blue plaid one with a bowtie, but decided against it. As cute as he would look, you knew the cat would probably bite you if you went anywhere near him with it.

You settled on a collar covered in piano keys. It was the plainest one they had in stock that wasn’t bright pink. You grabbed a small, circular tag, too. He would hate it, but at least maybe if you picked the least offensive options, the cat would tolerate wearing a collar.

On the way home, you stopped and grabbed a coffee from the chain cafe down the street from your apartment. You were still a little tired, and when you got home, you were glad for the extra caffeine.

“I’m home, kitty!” you called into the seemingly empty apartment. You hadn’t really been expecting the cat to be anywhere out in the open, but a small part of you had hoped.

Walking into the kitchen, you deposited the couple bags from the pet store on the table. You couldn’t help but feel like something was off. Nothing was broken or in the wrong place that you could see from first glance, but the niggling feeling in the back of your mind wouldn’t go away. Something had been moved in your kitchen. Your mug from your coffee this morning was washed and sat in your drying rack, along with another cup that you had thought you put away and the dish from last night that you had used to feed the cat. You didn’t remember washing the dishes this morning, but you were still a little tired, so maybe you had and just forgot.

You didn’t see anything else out of the ordinary, so you let it go, choosing instead to go find your cat. As expected, you found him under the TV stand. He was panting as if he had just run under there from somewhere else in the house.

“You know you’re allowed to be in other rooms, right?” you asked him softly, pulling the empty plate out so you could take it to the kitchen. “You don’t have to run under here every time I come home.” Copper eyes met yours for a second, and you could see panic in them. Then you saw it. The bandage around his shoulder was gone.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. Dr. Jung’s assistant had wrapped it securely. He must have really been running around the house to not only loosen it, but to dislodge the bandage entirely.

“What were you doing while I was gone, dude?” you questioned. The cat looked terrified. His eyes were large as saucers, his ears flat against his head. His mouth was open in a silent hiss, his long canine teeth on full display. “Are you hurt?” That seemed to catch him off guard. “Are you still bleeding? Can I see?” You reached into your back pocket and pulled out your phone. “You don’t have to come out if you don’t want to,” you said softly, waving your phone in the dark. “But can you at least turn so I can see?”

It took you a second to realize that, again, you were talking to a cat. He wasn’t going to listen to you, despite how human his reactions to you seemed to be. In the second that it took you to remind yourself that your cat is, in fact, a cat, his demeanor changed. His ears were still pressed back against his head, but he seemed less agitated, more resigned. He crawled toward you slowly, the limp almost entirely gone.

When he was out from under the TV stand, he stood fully. You pushed yourself up so you could sit and examine him. As you reached for him, he backed away slightly. His copper eyes met yours for the briefest of seconds before they flicked away, focusing on the floor. He stood still and allowed you to scoop him up into your lap.

“It’s okay,” you soothed, scratching his head gently. “Let me just look at your shoulder.”

You ran your hand over the joint and he froze. For a second, you thought maybe he was going to bolt back under the TV stand. But he sat there stiffly, allowing you to feel for the bite marks and anything that might still be bleeding.

You found nothing. Not even a scab. The only signs of the dog attack yesterday were a ring of indents--scars, you presumed--that ran from his shoulder blades down to his chest and onto his leg. There was no way he had healed that fast.

But you didn’t say that. Instead, you smiled at him. “If you don’t want to wear the bandage any more, you don’t have to,” you said soothingly, scratching at the base of his ear. His copper eyes met yours, and you pulled away at the apprehension in them.

He stepped out of your lap as soon as your hand was away from him. You nodded once, smiling at him. “I’m going to go do some work, kitty. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

You were a researcher. Always had been. When you were looking for apartments in the city, you had created spreadsheets and pro/con lists and had spent weeks researching neighborhoods. And when you decided on the right neighborhood, you had debated floor plans, after weeks of second-guessing finally settling on the single floor, three bedroom, two bathroom with the decent sized kitchen and living room.

You hadn’t done any research before taking in the cat. You loved cats, had had several growing up. You knew enough about them to not need to do any research before committing to taking home the stray living near your parents’ house.

Maybe you should have.

Although you weren’t exactly sure how researching could have possibly prevented anything. You pushed it out of your mind, though, choosing instead to focus on your next work project.

Except you couldn’t focus. Your client was a hybrid-owned cafe just outside the city, and you were trying to design their menus. Normally, it wouldn’t take you long at all. They were great clients, and they had given you all the information you needed, but your mind kept drifting to the cat in your living room. You assumed he had crawled back under the TV stand. He seemed to be comfortable enough under there, although clearly he felt comfortable leaving the shadows when you weren’t home.

And then there was the problem of his name. You had no idea what to call him, but you were sure he had a name. Though how you’d figure it out, you had no idea.

You had wanted to watch this movie for months. It had appeared on streaming services around Christmastime, but it was now April, and you still hadn’t had the chance to watch it. You curled up on your sectional in the living room to watch it, a bowl of popcorn sitting beside you. You had turned the lights off in the living room, so the only major source of light was what was coming from the TV, and it was a fairly dark movie.

Though you were invested in the plot, you still scrolled through your phone, your attention divided between social media and what was happening on the television.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a shadow moving under your TV stand. Your cat’s head poked out a second later, copper eyes watching you scroll through your social media. In another second, the rest of his body emerged from the shadows. You forced yourself to watch the movie. You didn’t want to freak him out by watching him. When you glanced back at where he had emerged, he was gone.

The movie was about halfway over when you noticed him again, slinking back into the living room from the hallway. Where he had gone, you had no idea. But he sat for a moment, staring at you from beside the wall. You had grabbed a blanket in the time that he had been gone. Your apartment tended to get chilly at night sometimes--it was old, and the insulation wasn’t the best--and you were a little cold.

Before you knew what was happening, he was up on the couch and in your lap, laying in the valley between your outstretched legs. He paused for a moment, copper eyes meeting yours as if gauging your reaction. In the dim light from the TV, you could see that hint of panic again, as if he was terrified you would shout or push him away. You smiled at him gently, resituating so more of your lap was available and going back to scrolling through your phone.

The cat was apparently satisfied with your reaction, because he readjusted himself, as well, curling up so he was taking up more real estate on your lap. You didn’t mind. His little body put off quite a lot of heat, and from what you could feel of him through the blanket, he was cold, too. Eventually, he settled in, his head rested against your leg beside your free hand, his tail flopped into the crook of your elbow, the tip flicking lightly back and forth.

After a moment, you felt him shift again, and you almost jumped when you felt his head press into your hand. It took you a second, and a few more tentative bumps from him, but you eventually opened your hand and allowed him to press his forehead into your palm. You rubbed your thumb gently over the soft fur of his cheek. He leaned into your touch and you could feel him relaxing. You heard the rumbles of a purr start to stutter in his chest. It wasn’t constant like other cats’--it sounded vaguely like popcorn, crackling and popping at random.

You sighed, resting one hand on his back and continuing to stroke his cheek. He stiffened for a moment and raised his head, wide eyes staring into your face, before he slowly started to relax again.

“I can’t keep calling you kitty,” you said softly when he was comfortable. He didn’t raise his head, but his ear swiveled in your direction to show he was paying attention. “And I’m terrible at names, so you’re going to have to figure out a way to tell me what yours is. Unless you want me to call you something ridiculous like Smudge or Shadow.” The cat grunted. Apparently he didn’t like those names, either. “I didn’t think so.”

Your attention returned to the movie, but you kept petting him. His stuttering purr resumed. He directed your hand by nudging it, up his head and down to his shoulder. He adjusted how he was laying so you could rub where the scars of yesterday’s bite marks were. You massaged the area gently, his purring increasing in volume.

His fur was soft and considerably less dirty than it had been that morning. If you concentrated, he smelled like your shampoo.

“I have to take some stuff back to the pet store tomorrow,” you said finally. “So you’ll have some time alone to do whatever.”

He froze, and despite the movie playing, it was quiet without his purring. His eyes were wide, and he hissed, but aside from his ears flattening, he didn’t move. He was scared--no, he was terrified.

It broke your heart.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” You kept your voice soft and even. “You can stay here for as long as you’d like. I want you to feel comfortable here.”

You sighed. You still felt a little weird talking so seriously with a cat, but his reactions confirmed what your research had told you. You had questions, and you were a little concerned about the logistics of everything, but you had started to come to terms with it.

Him smelling like your shampoo. The dishes being done. The stolen pillow and blanket. The things that were moved ever so slightly. The oddly appropriate reactions to what you were saying. How fast he had healed. Maybe you’d always known. Maybe that’s why you still talked to him like he was a person.

He was a person, more or less.

Your cat was a hybrid.

As always, your feedback is appreciated. Feel free to pop into my ask box with questions or thoughts about the series. I’d love to hear from you!

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Taglist: @min-yus, @melindagrace31, @shrimpmsg, @ghostkat23, @demcreeps, @ggsmashgg, @findingourtreasure, @20emma0, @springbean, @black-rose-29, @cuteipat, @agustneeds, @deeepvibes, @yzkyzkuniverse, @softbbyg0rl

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi #hybrid yoongi #hybrid yoongi x reader #bts hybrid au #hybrid au #thebtswritersclub #yoongi hybrid au #hybrid bts #hybridyoongi #yoongi hybrid #yoongihybrid #yoongi angst #bts angst #min yoongi angst

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blackbackedjackal · 2 years

Note

That “domesticated coyotes” anon has been bouncing around in my head all day. One thing people forget is there are specific requirements that need to be met for domestication and, if I remember correctly, we can meet those for very few animals. It’s why we’d never be able to ACTUALLY domestic moose, there’s no way we could provide the amount of food for them.

It also ties into the exotic pet trade industry as well. What a lot of people don’t realize is the exotic pet trade is that they don’t prevent animals from going to into extinction. From what I’ve seen cheetahs are struggling massively because people in these businesses yank them from the wild, some dumbass who doesn’t realize what all goes into taking care of a wild animal like that buys it, maybe even declaws it, then dumps it at an already max capacity sanctuary because they realize how much it costs to own one. Insects are another creature that are quickly losing numbers because of the pet trade and it’s sad no one talks about it.

I’m so sorry for this massive ramble, but it’s something I get overly passionate about and it’s upsetting that people don’t realize that these animals rarely survive when rereleased into the wild and it’s stuff that feels like isn’t talked about enough. People just need to realize some things just aren’t meant to be.

I agree! There's no reason or benefit for humans to domesticate coyotes when we already have dog breeds that can do most of what coyotes can (and often better then they can in some aspects). Why don't we domesticate coyotes like we did with dogs? It's because they're two completely different species. The process of domesticating them wouldn't be the same as with dogs to begin with, and no one here has another 40,000+ years to figure that out. There's also research being done that the original lineages of canines that lead to the modern domestic dogs aren't the same as modern gray wolves. So we may have domesticated an entirely different wolf species that was closely related to what become modern gray wolves, but were much more susceptible to the domestication process then other canids. If the species had to be THAT specific, then what makes anyone logically think coyotes (that diverged from a different wolf-like canid nearly 2 million years ago) can all of a sudden be domesticated via isolated incidents of animal abuse over a few generations?

Insect, bird, amphibian, and reptile populations are suffering from the exotic pet trade so severely! Many are just plucked straight out of the wild and then sold to the person with the most money and the least amount of resources to care for those animals. It ruins those local ecosystems, decimates those wild populations, and most don't even make it to a buyer because they end up dying due to stress or neglect before even being sold. It's a big issue that really needs to be discussed more. But fools on social media don't want the facts. They just want bite-sized consumable abusive animal content without having to feel guilty, or worse, want to exploit an exotic animal for clout and narcissistic purposes.

It's all good, I definitely understand your passion and frustration. It's a very irritating seeing people so ready to defend thinly veiled animal abuse and deny the facts.

#ask

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xddaengx · 4 years

Text

Little Baby Bear

⚬Pairings: Jungkook x Reader

⚬Genre: Romance | Hybrid AU | Hurt/Comfort AU | Angst |

⚬Warnings: Hybrid Abuse | PTSD? |

⚬Word Count: 3.2k

⚬Summary: You never thought you would see your ex again... especially not at your front door with his hybrid.

⚬Author’s Note: This was requested...It took a bit longer to write than I thought but I hope you enjoy. (there is definitely to be a second part)

The loud knocking on your front door - was what startled you out of your bed that morning. The pounding continuing until you swing open the bright blue door with a huff.

“What do you want?” You snap at the man in front of you - not particularly excited to see your ex-boyfriend at six-thirty in the morning on a Saturday.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for weeks.” Your ex chides, looking you up and down with a smile before glancing behind you into your small house. “Ever since you moved out here - it’s become really hard to get in contact with you.” He adds, motioning to the wide country side that surrounds your small brick cottage.

“Seriously what do you want, Hoseok?” You cut him off from continuing on another tangent, the sight of the suitcases besides him finally catching your attention. You look down at the hard top plastic with a frown, before turning back to look at the lean man.

“I just need someone to look after him…Just for a little while.” Hoseok says quietly his body moving slightly to the side to show the overgrown man crouched on your front steps. The large boy sends you a quick grin, before turning back around to look at your front garden in awe.

“What do you mean?” You question quickly, hushing your voice a little more as you watch Jungkook chase the butterflies around the garden, obviously excited by the new environment. Hoseok just grimaces as the hybrid behind him squashes one of your flower patches.

“I just have some things I need to sort out - and he’s already comfortable around you.” Hoseok begins, the raising of your hand making his sentence fade off.

“We broke up two years ago, Hoseok…Frankly after you cheated on me, I was hoping to never see you again.�� You hiss, the change in your tone catching Jungkook’s attention, he stands quickly moving to stand between you and his owner.

“Please, you’re the only person I know that already knows how to look after him - and I can’t apply for a foster because no one excepts his species.” Hoseok snaps back, his hands balling at his sides as he looks over at Jungkook, who seems to falter at his owners words, his smile fading - the hurt obvious in his eyes.

Jungkook had always been self conscious about the hybrid he was mixed with…The bear part of him obvious by the size of his hands and feet - obviously too large to be a humans making the hybrid clumsy but lethal when he needed to be.

Jungkook is quick to hide his hands in his pockets once he notices you staring at them, his eyebrows furrowed as the soft round ear atop his head flatten.

You let out a long sigh before grabbing Jungkook’s forearm pulling him to move inside your house.

“Fine, he can stay…for now.” You mumble, Hoseok’s face lighting up as he moves the two suitcase inside your front door before rushing towards his car before you can change your mind. He waves quickly to Jungkook who stand behind you, his hands still shoved deep in his pockets, as he watches his owner drive away.

“Well, welcome…I guess.” You say turning to the hybrid, who’s eyes stay focused on his suitcases, the tears welling in his eyes, sending a strong pang in your heart.

“Kook, he’s going to be coming back - you’re just going to be visiting with me for a while…” You begin trying to console the sad hybrid before adding, “It’ll be like a sleepover.” You words seems to cheer the hybrid up the slightest bit as he finally lifts his gaze, finally pulling his hands out of his pockets to tip furiously at his eyes.

You decide quickly to show Jungkook around your humble abode, showing him where he can sleep while he’s staying with you - the boy getting excited at having his own room.

“At home, I always had to share with Taehyung.” Jungkook says as you smooth out the fresh blankets on his bed, the hybrid unpacking his clothes into the dresser.

“Who’s Taehyung?” You question, your attention only half on the hybrid as you fluff the pillows you had pulled out of the cupboard.

“He’s the mistresses hybrid…He’s a tiger.” Jungkook says quickly, not noticing the way you tense up at the words. “She never let me call her by her real name…She’s so much nicer to everyone else.” He adds quickly, the words boiling something inside of you.

You were well aware of the way Hoseok’s, new partner thought of hybrids. The way she would treat them, was never something you agreed with, even when she was your best-friend. You huff, throwing the pillow into the spot on the bed, sending the hybrid a quick smile when you spot the panic on his face.

“I’m just going to take a quick walk, did you want to come?” You question the boy who nods quickly, pulling a large jacket out of his suitcase, sliding it on before following you to the back door. “Just wait here, I just need to change.” You mumble, looking down at your baggy pyjama’s - a combination of five year old sweatpants and the same shirt you had been wearing for the past three days.

Jungkook, nods, standing directly in front of the back door, his hands clasped tightly together, as you rushed up the stairs pulling the first pair of leggings and the first clean-ish shirt you find out of the cupboard, slipping them both on with the decision to worry about showering later.

As much of a sweet person Jungkook was, you know he was the worst when it came to touching things he shouldn’t. His large hands, throwing any spacial awareness he had out the window. When you come back down the stairs, you’re surprised to find Jungkook standing in the exact position you had left him in - his hands clasped in front of him, looking out the window in excitement at the forest that sit behind your house.

“Ready to go?” He questions, the small flicking of the waistband on his pants, letting you know his small tail was wagging with fury. You nod, unlocking the back door, swinging it open, not being surprised when the hybrid bolts off in the direction of the forest - technically what he would consider his natural habitat.

You walk slowly around the pathways that had been carved in the dirt of the forest, watching as Jungkook rushes through the trees, occasionally trying to catch a bird.

Hoseok had gotten the bear hybrid from a local circus that was closing down. It had been one of his favourite places to go as a child, and seeing that they were “adopting” out their attractions had Hoseok feeling nostalgic and giddy. You remember the first time you met the bear hybrid - it was a few months before the end of your relationship with Hoseok, the hybrid trailing in happily behind his new owner as he looked around the large apartment.

“And this is my girlfriend…Isn’t she pretty?” Hoseok coos at Jungkook as he motions to where you stand by the lounge, still surprised at the new addition. The hybrid nods behind his owner, his ears flattening against his head as he gives you a shy wave - one you are quick to return. “You two are actually the same age.” Hoseok adds, as he pushes Jungkook to move closer to greet you.

Jungkook was quick to become a close companion to both you and Hoseok, most evenings you spent with the bear hybrid curled up between you on the couch. When things had gone to hell between you and his owner, Jungkook had been understandably devastated.

The day he had spotted you packing your bags, he had pleaded with you to stay, to not let the Mistress tear your family apart. You shook your head - eyes teary as you pulled the suitcase out of his hands.

“I can’t stay, Jungkook…I don’t belong here anymore.” You sighed, giving the boys ears one last scratch before you swung open the front door.

“Well, don’t come back then…I never want to see you again.” The hybrid had shouted - wiping away the tears that fell on his cheeks. His words hit you like a ton of bricks - Jungkook was never one to yell, especially at someone he loved so dearly, but he had been hurt…You had hurt him.

Though as you watch him race through the trees now - sending you a bright grin every time he trips over a tree root, you can help but think that maybe he had forgotten about the things he said to you that day.

It had been an hour of aimlessly wandering before you decided to wrangle Jungkook and try to guide him back to the cottage - bribing him with making his favourite vegetable soup for lunch. Jungkook had never been a timid hybrid when Hoseok had first gotten him - he was usually very open with affection and any thoughts or feelings he had, but as you take off your muddy shoes, leaving them at the back door making your way into the kitchen, something tells you to turn around.

So you do.

“What’re you doing?” You ask the hybrid as he waits outside your backdoor, his hands clenching and unclenching as he look towards you in the kitchen.

“I can’t come in, if I’m not invited in.” Jungkook says quietly, his hands remaining clenched as he continues to stand at the door, looking like there was a war going on inside his head.

“Oh…Well you don’t have to ask here. If you want to come inside, then come inside.” You say quickly, swinging open the door to the fridge, not watching as the hybrid slowly slips off his shoes, tip toeing his way into the kitchen, almost as if he was ready for you to retract your statement and tell him to go back outside.

You take all the vegetables you need out of your fridge as well as a carton of vegetable stock - beginning to slowly cut each vegetable into large chunks, making sure to cut extra potato - jungkook’s favourite - before throwing it all into a pot with the stock and two large cups of water.

“It’ll take an hour or two for the soup to settle.” You say quickly turning to where Jungkook hovers behind you - watching you throw the dishes in the sink, wiping your hands on your pants with a huff, deciding to come back to the dishes later.

“I need to have a shower - Feel free to make yourself at home…There’s plenty of movies in the cabinet under the T.V. if you want to watching something.” You say quietly, Jungkook nods moving towards the cabinet with a grin when he spot his favourite movie series along the collection.

When you come down from your room - after a long shower and sitting on your bed for an hour going through your phone - your surprised to see Jungkook curled up tightly on the couch, your small knitted throw blanket sitting over his lap. You can’t help but let out a small chuckle at the sight of the large boy covered with such a small blanket.

As quietly as you can manage - you make your way over to the basket in the corner of your lounge room - pulling one of the larger fleece blankets out, slowly making your way over to the hybrid, draping the blanket over him gently. The hybrid shifts when the weight of the blanket surrounds him and you freeze not wanting him to wake up from his nap.

The hybrid lets out a content sigh - snuggling further under the blanket, a small grin spreading across his face. You let out a breath of relief as you try to slip away from the cuddled up hybrid.

“Thank you, Y/n.” You hear the deep voice rumble, the tone and volume much different from what you were used to with Jungkook. You make your way into the kitchen, trying not to think about the change in the hybrid voice.

Jungkook had always had a tendency to act almost childlike - something he had been taught to do in the circus…to appeal to the masses - his voice was usually much higher, as if he was constantly speaking in a soft whining tone. But the voice that had just left him was much different. It was deeper, stronger and much more like what you would expect from the large man.

Poking your head around the corner - you check Jungkook one more time before deciding that you would let the soup simmer for a little longer while he sleeps.

He must be exhausted.

“Kook, don’t you think that’s enough carrots?” You question the bear hybrid who run in from the backyard his arms piled high with carrots. He shakes his head, a smile blooming on his face as he reaches the back door, proudly showing you his harvest of carrots from the garden.

“Don’t worry…I’ll eat all of them.” He chirps, moving over to the kitchen counter to place the carrots in the sink for a rinse in clean water.

“I don’t doubt that you will.” You huff, watching the hybrid move around the kitchen freely.

Jungkook had been settling in quickly. It had only been three weeks but he already knew the forest around your house like that back of his hand - a routine for the two of you being set quickly.

The morning was for walking and picking produce out of your garden.

The afternoon was for eating and preparing for dinner.

And night was time to relax - eat delicious food and watching gordon Ramsay swearing at people until the two of you made you way to your respective rooms. You hadn’t had much incident with jungkook about his past with your ex-boyfriend until the night after you had broken routine, opting to go grocery shopping instead of for a walk through the forest.

You had been cooking the stir fried vegetables when a loud crashing sound came from the lounge room - followed by a soft whimper. You drop the wooden spoon against the kitchen counter, rushing around the corner to see what had caused the ruckus, stopping in your tracks when you see Jungkook knelt on the floor holding the broken photo frame in his hands.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I really didn’t mean to, I just wanted to look at the photo.” He’s quick to explain dropping the photo frame on the floor, straightening his arms above his head, in a straight line, his eyes turning to look at the floor. You can see the small shivers that rake over the hybrids body as you take in the rest of the damage.

You walk slowly over to the hybrid looking at the shattered glass around him, his hand littered with small cuts. You shake your head with a small sigh, the shaking in the hybrid growing stronger.

“What have they done to you, little baby bear?” You coo to the hybrid, slowly leaning down, bringing his arms with you. You clasp Jungkook’s hands in your own as you wait for him to raise his head. “It’s okay, Kookie…You’re not in trouble.” Your words drag a sob out of the hybrid as he pulls his hands out from your own, shuffling forwards before throwing his arms around your shoulders tightly, his face burying in the crook of your neck. His sobs get louder, his body flinching as you wrap your own around around his waist, stroking his back soothingly.

“I don’t want to go back…I want to stay with you.” He whispers.

“I see you haven’t change your number yet.” You hiss as a tired Hoseok answers the phone, his voice groggy on the other side.

“It’s midnight Y/N, why are you calling me?” He groans, a voice next to him asking him who it was.

“What have you done to him, Hoseok? Why isn’t he allowed inside uninvited? Why can’t he behave like a person?” You look at the half closed door of Jungkook bedroom as you speak into the phone. You huff when Hoseok doesn’t answer.

“I knew you were a horrible person, but I never thought you were that bad.” You sigh, rubbing your forehead softly, as you take one more look at Jungkook’s door before walking into the kitchen. “Let’s be honest with each other, Hoseok…Were you ever planning on coming back for him?” You question, your frown deepening as Hoseok sighs.

“No…My fiancee…she’s allergic to his fur, she wanted me to get rid of him - he was burdensome to everyone here.” He says in a hushed voice through the phone, and you can’t help but curse the world for being so cruel to such a beautiful human.

“Just send me the adoption papers, with your signature. Don’t ever contact us again.” You finish, hanging up the phone without waiting for a response, letting out another string of curse words, before making your way to your own bedroom.

It takes two days for you to finally break the news to Jungkook, not being sure whether he would be upset or excited to be able to stay with you forever.

It seemed to be the latter.

“Oh, Thank god.” He coos - his voice dropping an octave as he visibly relaxes - as you finally tell him that you had decided to adopt him, that he could stay with you forever.

“I hated it there, after you left things changed…he wasn’t as loving as he was with you.” Jungkook begins, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, as he lets out a long sigh. “When the mistress moved in, he started drinking, and would often take out his frustration on us.”

“Us?” You question.

“Me and the other hybrid Taehyung. He’s the mistress hybrid, he had lived with her his whole life and didn’t know much different, but it was horrible compared to when you were there. We weren’t real people to her, she treated us like animals.” Jungkook continues, his knuckles turning white from how hard his hands are clasped together.

“Oh, Kookie.” You sigh, watching as he begins to shake his head.

“Don’t feel bad…I knew as soon as Hoseok told me to pack my bags that we were coming to you, I knew that things were going to be okay with you - though I can’t help but feel bad for Tae, he’s stuck there on his own now, and I have everything I could dream of.” Jungkook finishes, his smile widening on his face, as he unclasps his hands, reaching to take your own.

“I couldn’t be happier now that I’m here.” He adds, and you return his smile, the two of you flinching as a loud knocking sounds of the front door. Jungkook’s ears move of his head, taking deep sniffs of the air as his eyebrows furrow.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” You say quickly, letting go of Jungkook’s hands, moving towards the door. You begin to pull open the door as Jungkook lets out a low growl.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” You hiss, as you look at your ex-boyfriend standing at your front door a large envelope in hand, a black haired boy standing behind him, suitcase in hand.

#bts #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts hybrid au #bts hurt/comfort au #jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook hybrid au #jungkook hurt/comfort au #jungkook bear hybrid #taehyung #taehyung imagines #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung hurt/comfort au #taehyung hybrid au #taehyung tiger hybrid

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geekys-corner · 3 years

Note

Mind listing the OCs/personas and a couple facts about them? (Might help with questions lol)

Sure! I’ve written 16 below lmao *sticks in a read more*

Anthony - Originally my version of Anti, he’s now a sweet bean who really likes plants. In his backstory and the start of his story, he was found in a tiny pocket dimension inside his old apartment while he and the place around him fell into disrepair with the only thing truly alive being his plants. After losing his entire family, he was very fragile and hurt himself quite a bit, but my other characters rescued him and nursed him back to health and stability!

Onyx - My angsty punk dude who I adore. He is on the autistic spectrum and is mostly non-verbal, once going 4 months without speaking before breaking the silence to tell his best friend that Viggo Mortenson broke his toe in that one scene in Lord of the Rings. They have a twin sister who is 13 minutes older and a firm witch while he is a firm nonbeliever. Sometimes he goes to the junkyard with a baseball bat to let out their anger.

Leon - His backstory is very dark so I won’t get into it, but he’s a very shy bean with one arm and a love for sewing. He has the fluffiest light pink hair, and is just the embodiment of pastel.

Kyle - The older brother of the duo! He’s friends with Onyx and also has a punk look with spiked blue hair, but he’s an absolute sweetheart! He’s eight years older than his brother, and ran away with him when he was a newborn to escape their abusive mother. He raised Joey on his own in the streets, escaping care systems that would split them apart and shove them in to foster homes, and grew up to be completely independent, albeit unaware of what it is like to have a loving family besides his brother. He may be quick to resort to fight or flight to protect his brother and grumpy to strangers, but he’s built them a good life!

Joseph - The little brother! Joey is a smart little kid, (ranging from 10 - 14 depending) with very bright ginger hair and freckles. He’s on the far side of the autistic spectrum and is completely nonverbal, but he’s very expressive, spunky, and loving whenever he’s able to. He adores peanut butter and milkshakes, and would very happily have them six times a day. While he can’t speak, he will send Kyle countless facts from astronomy or marine life through text at any time of day or night. He’s always seen in his blue skateboarding frog hoodie, a beetle backpack filled with his supplies, and his headphones and tablet. He loves to draw and he’s great at it, and always draws sharks, especially whale sharks.

Caelan - Another punk, but this time in bird form. He is a griffin, and in some AUs a dude with prosthetic feet. He has messy blond hair covering his eyes and is based around an Egyptian falcon. He’s very quick witted and very annoying to people who don’t know him, but would go to hell and back for his family.

Marioma - The model of a modern major general- this dude is the only one like him, meaning he has no AU counterparts! He’s different from my other characters since he’s technically self-aware, and acts in my stories if and when I want him to! He’s a grumpy, determined dude who’s trying to quit smoking per request of his boyfriend, Arthur. Before him, he was a sly, hardened, and cunning man who needed someone to rely on who wouldn’t die on him.

Arthur - Foster fails: 5. He owns a bookstore in the universe he inhabits and, just like Mari, he’s one of a kind! He lives the ideal rainy city aesthetic, with an apartment above his store with open windows, plants, cosy blankets and homemade food, handmade clothing, and animals. He’s got curly hair and his scarf is his comfort item, and he takes in animals if and when he can. He and Mari just live a comfortable life :’)

Clyde - A duo with Anthony, he was originally a version of Henrik, but is now completely different. This boy is a classic OC and therefore my teenage angst punching bag. He’s a doctor in his husband Lucas’ mafia, and is very strong-willed and the biggest sweetheart. He has water powers that I always forget about, and could very easily drown someone if he wanted to. Besides that, he does cry a lot over small things, and Lucas has walked in on him crying over their cat in a business-tie.

Levi - If he and Clyde fused, they’d make Henrik. He’s my 55 year old doctor who just the embodiment of grumpy cat and expresso. He’s very lanky and has joint problems after trauma in his late 20s, and sometimes you can hear his bones cracking as he walks. He has, can, and will slap the sense into Clyde when he needs to and hated him to begin with, but warmed up to him. But, he’s completely different to his husband Sage, and in the end, is a very caring guy who won’t take any shit. He’s also therapist, and gives sessions to most of my OCs- (he’s also the doctor at the end of Don’t Leave! Dr Allison!)

Tyrell (Cloak) - So I split the same OC into two halves, essentially from two AUs but in one? They’re not twins, they’re the same guy with separate families but they’re the same. They’re both POC with the same face, hair texture etc. Cloak-Ty is very grumpy, and is called Cloak because of the cloak he wears in his fantasy-based AUs! He wears an eye patch and lost his eye depending on the AU, and went through a lot. You can tell he’s angsty because half of his hair is buzzed off. He tried to push away his now-husband Demitri, but luckily he’s an absolute himbo who doesn’t know when to quit, and eventually melted through the icy layer to a loving, sarcastic, hard-working man.

Tyrell (Ponytail) - Same as above description wise! He’s taller and buff with a ponytail. He went through the same backstory, but was found by Daniel who took him to Lucas’ mafia where they recovered together and eventually fell in love. Half of his face is badly burned and the eye has pin-hole vision, but it doesn’t stop him from being the best sniper on the team. When at home, he loves tea, hanging with his family, and painting. He’s amazing at watercolour and earns money on the side from selling his work! Sometimes he and Dan team up and draw together!

Bloodbranded:

Wayde - He lives in the Winter Forest Region and hunts for his family with his exceptional archery skills. He’s witty and pretty spontaneous, making him good under pressure, but incredibly reckless. He has a bad claw scar across his right eye which cuts into his hair, but he can see just fine! He has beautiful green eyes with central heterochromia, so they turn brown in the centre. While he may be annoying and hot-headed, he cares a whole bunch and grows as a person to fall in love with Milo. He’s a hopeless romantic and protective as all hell, even when Milo can handle himself just fine.

Felicity - She wasn’t born in the WFR like Wayde, she was adopted by her two mothers and is Wayde’s cousin! She’s a POC with beautiful dark skin, and her parents style her hair in unique braids that are decorated by gold rings. She’s a magic user and a very skilled one at that, even when she’d just started out, and wishes to revive the old form of magic that had been taken over by the modern, corrupted magic form that’s based entirely on nepotism. She uses a staff and a book, and is clumsy to start out, but soon becomes a mage to be admired, or feared if you’re an enemy!

Milo - Unlike Felicity and Wayde, he was born in the desert region, and ends up in the WFR by mistake (which is a vast change in temperature for him). Because of the contrast in temperature, he’s always wrapped up in winter clothes, even in places where the others are sleeveless, just because he’s spent his whole life in the heat! When he’s at home, he lives with his Mother and goes out to collect lightning glass after the nightly storms to sell and turn into jewellery or windows etc. Milo was born deaf and uses sign language to communicate. He’s smart, energetic, and excited to see new things, but can handle himself with ease, and knows how to take care of himself through quick thinking and fighting skills from living in the desert. When he and Wayde start dating, he likes coming up behind him and cuddling him or giving him quick kisses!

Prism - Much like their name, they are very colourful. They are a dragon hybrid and live in a kingdom of others like them, but unlike any other dragon, their scales are - like their name - prisms. They gradient between rainbows across their body, but each scale has a rainbow shimmer when they move. Their wings are like stained glass, and their hair (as of now, it might change) is like labradorite! Prism is mute and doesn’t express much, usually communicating through eye rolls. They live as the King’s new heir after he took them in as he believes Prism is the symbol of their kingdom and species’ beauty. Because of this, they are completely untouched by any blade and don’t have a single blemish or scar as to preserve them. Many guards have died to prevent them from obtaining even the slightest scratch. Beyond their anxiety, they join the crew and act as the voice/sign of reason! Even if they are assigned to their kingdom, they soon learn that their friends truly care about them more than their appearance.

That’s most of my OCs, this is already super long so I don’t want to drag it on! If anyone is interested in any OC, feel free to drop an ask, I’d love to write one shots or answer questions! <3 ^^

#geekyfox1's ocs #oc #oc list #bloodbranded #bloodbranded development #oc description

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randomnameless · 3 years

Text

There was a “joke” post that circulated about lords siding with a certain person (the result is... no one picks her path), and I didn’t want to reblog it with serious thoughts - and I was like, the second any Lord hears about certain ideas regarding another race, they’d bail out immediately.

While fantastic racism is still racism, the main issue depicted in the game (but hidden or not picked upon because framing is a thing) is coexistence.

... Right ?

Each time Edel harps about “creatures” it is because she thinks they are controlling Fodlan, or are just living here with humans :

“You are a child of the goddess. You must not be allowed power over the people”

“Should the one leading the people of the world be someone with humanity or a creature that can merely masquerade as a human at will?”

A redditer once put it in simple terms, but it feels like the “Separate but Equals” doctrine, with all its implications - creatures should not have power over humans, but humans are allowed to have power over them.

Creatures are not allowed to live near human settlments and are allowed to “retire” from the world, but banned from interacting with it.

So while I do not think CF!Edel is going to destroy Macuil, who is living in Sreng (unless she uses him as a pretense, she will send troops to free her Sreng allies from his evil yoke and forget to pull them back when the bird’s dead?), CF!Edel still has the ominous

“You could have had a peaceful life... Why did you have to come to Garreg Mach?”

when pitted against... Flayn.

If Flayn never came to Garreg Mach, she would have been allowed to live a peaceful life, but far from... humans? Humanity? Civilisation?

But this? This is what we are supposed to think!

Bar the, um, ludicrousness of thinking Flayn rules over humans, especially since the person thinking this is the leader of the country who gave the biggest middle finger to the Church, there is the Indech paralogue.

No matter how many twists or paperwork involved, the fact is the BE knows Edel will terminate Indech. Euphemisms like “It will be troublesome” cannot shake the feeling that since day 1, Edelgard, who said she wishes to obliterate Children of the Goddess because they are controlling the world, obliterates many things to get control of various countries, but not Children of the Goddess.

Dimitri and Claude must disappear for Fodlan to be united, thus to gain control over the world, but Rhea? Why is she on the hit-list, especially after having been driven away from Garreg Mach and not having any power over “the people” anymore?

Again, CF is very revealing about her views on Children of the Goddess, even if the lolcalisation team tried to smooth the angles :

In the localised version, against Rhea, during their final fight, she says :

So it's true. You don't value human life at all. Isn't that right, Immaculate One?

But in the original, jp, version, she says this instead :

やはり、貴方が大事なのは人ではないのね。 “白きもの”……女神の眷属よ !

After the “Immaculate One”, Edel pauses and adds... Child/ren of the Goddess.

So it isn’t Rhea, the IO, who doesn’t “value human life at all”, nope. It’s something inherent to all “children of the goddess” (or other reading, Edel thinks CoG is an insult, which... doesn’t help her case.at.all.).

From a doylist POV, I can see why this only comes late in the game, and was hidden, in CF at least, because Billy has to be misguided, starting with “I hate children of the goddess because they abuse power”.

Then it becomes “I hate children of the Goddess because they have power over humans”.

The ultimate CF golden nugget, is “I hate children of the Goddess because they do not value human life”. Indech’s paralogue (meaning you recruited someone else from the usual BE member, hinting at a second PT?) heavily suggests “I hate children of the Goddess, even if they don’t have power over humans”.

So, both to fit with the theme Billy’s lied to in CF and because finding justifications to hide why you hate a different race/species is what is commonly done to hide your most hideous opinions, Edel couldn’t have started CF saying, overtly, “I hate Children of the Goddess, they’re not like us, look they don’t value human lives!” - Watsonian wise... if the game didn’t have big issues with framing, it would sound weird because, hm, Flayn was a member of their House and apparently managed to get along with several people, you do not bother to get along with people you don’t care about and/or value.

But in a way, isn’t it, just the same thing?

By hiding behind “I don’t mind them, just hidden from my eyes and without influence over the world”, it doesn’t remove the main issue, coexistence with Nabateans is impossible.

Let it be their physical or spiritual presence, their existence is outright rejected - as I pointed out in an earlier post, wanting to get rid of “crests” effectively means, wanting to get rid of Nabateans.

“They” are not like “us”. They do not value our lives (or being called a “Child of the Goddess” is an insult).

This is where the most beautiful redshit takes grow, from the “it isn’t racist to call them beast because they technically are “beasts”” - I am sure if I call you an evolved paramecia, even if it might be technically true, you will not feel honored - to the emmy worthy takes “Nabateans are responsibles for what happened to them, it’s their fault because they flaunted their superpowers”.

As an evil person said :

Everyone has something that is unacceptable within them. I certainly do, and I'd wager you do as well.

I wonder which is best, Professor... To cut away that which is unacceptable, or to find a way to accept it anyway...

Post CF, Nabateans are effectively cut away, since their existence was unacceptable. Let it be physically or condamned to a life in hiding.

For someone who cannot accept Nabateans, the most suitable ending is to remove her love interest’s nabatean blood, Billy can reject their blood, their life support and even their tacky hair!

i forgot the point i wanted to make In the FE series, coexistence is always sought after, let it be between two different species, or two different nations, or even two different people and their visions. In FE16? No one gives a frick about this issue, even when it is the leitmotiv of the primary force in the game (save for the aforementionned evil person).

We can even say this game, with its hard-on for unification, gives a negative answer - there is no need to accept the unacceptable or to try to get along or to coexist with others, if others are part of you.

CF at least had the balls to drop the mic and go full “you should cut away the things you cannot accept”, while it can be foggy at first, it hits hard when the “things you cannot accept” are... a group of people.

Tl; Dr : When usual lords pick the “find a way to accept and get along with everyone”, Edel fully embraces the “cut away and destroy it”, even if this mindset leads to finishing Nemesis’s party and removing Nabateans from Fodlan. The game doesn’t challenge it though, and it’s a pity.

#musings #it always happen #sometimes i'm writting something and i forget why i wanted to write #what was the point i wanted to make? idk #FE16 #claude wants people to accept each other #dimitri learns to accept the empire and edel and doesn't want to destroy her on sight #rhea had to accept Catherine and pals using relics and the fact crests were widespread #Edel? Cannot accept nabateans #discussions about racism #they abuse their power > they oppress us humans > they're not like us #lolcalisation issues #why cutting that part? I wonder

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the-mighty-jellybean · 4 years

Text

Black & Blue

Bruise: an injury appearing as an area of discoloured skin on the body, caused by a blow or impact rupturing underlying blood vessels...

Series Summary:

‘They littered her arms like splashes of watercolor paints, Steve couldn't stop staring, she pulled at the sleeves of her cardigan when she caught him. “I fell.” she muttered, pulling the fabric tight over her fragile body. All Steve wanted to do was pick her up, and put her in a box, like you would a broken bird. He wanted to fix this little bird, but he didn't know how.’

Pairing: Doctor!Steve x Reader, Brock x Reader

Series Warning: This story is going to be quite dark and heavy, and will contain heavy themes of domestic abuse. There will be: Violence and possible Noncon, if you are uncomfortable with any of these themes, please don't read, this book won't be for you.

Part One// Part Two// Part Three// Part Four// Part Five// Part Six// Part Seven// Part Eight// Part Nine// Part Ten// Part Eleven// Part Twelve// Part Thirteen// Part Fourteen// Part Fifteen// Part Sixteen// Part Seventeen// Part Eighteen// Part Nineteen// Part Twenty// Part Twenty-One// Part Twenty-Two// Part Twenty-Three Part Twenty-Four//

Part Twenty-Five: Last Man Standing

Chapter Warnings: Strong Language, Violence

Word Count: 5.4k

“I just can’t stop staring at her.” Steve whispered, as he stood over the small basinet that lay next to Y/N’s side of the bed. Steve was sat on the edge of the bed, Y/N had curled around his body, one hand resting on Steve’s thigh, the other was brushing her fingers along the side of Ruby’s face, her skin feeling so smooth and delicate beneath them.

“I know, I’m terrified that she’s going to just stop breathing, if I look away.” Y/N worried, watching the way she scrunched up her face, before settling once again.

“You don’t need to worry about that, sweetheart. She’s perfectly healthy, and you’re doing amazing.” Steve kissed the side of Y/N’s head, brushing some of her hair out of her face.

“You say that, yet these…” Y/N rolled onto her back, and waved her hands around her chest, “…don’t appear to want to work.”

“You just need to be a patient, sweetie. It’ll be okay.” Steve smiles, looking back at the slightly squirming infant; “Speaking of which, I think someone might be getting a little hungry.”

Steve leant forward, scooping Ruby into his arms, admiring the way she pushed her face into the material of his t-shirt, searching for something that she wasn’t going to find, with the male species.

“I can’t do it, Steve.” Y/N sighed, sitting up and taking Ruby from Steve.

“Just try for me, bubba. I’ll help you.” Steve turned so that he was now facing Y/N, helping her to roll up her shirt, Y/N moved forward allowing Steve to unhook her bra, freeing her sore breasts.

“Sit up a bit more, sweetheart.” Steve supports Ruby, whilst Y/N shuffled up, so that she was more upright.

“Okay, now just breathe, you’re putting too much thought and stress into it, just relax.” Steve guided Ruby’s head, so that it could find Y/N’s chest. For a moment, Ruby’s wobbly head, struggled to latch on, but soon she found her way to Y/N’s breast.

“See, you just need to relax.” Steve spoke softly so not to disturb the now quietly suckling baby.

Steve stroked over the light fuzz on the top of Ruby’s head, Y/N gazed into Ruby’s eyes, relieved that they resembled hers, rather than somebody else’s.

“She’s so beautiful.” Steve murmured, Y/N didn’t think that Steve had stopped admiring Ruby since she was born, he just seemed completely entranced by her.

“She truly is.” Y/N mumbled, Ruby’s eyes slowly fluttering shut, the more she drank.

“She looks just like you, from her hair, to her tiny toes.” Steve palmed the soles of Ruby’s exposed feet, her feet flexed as a reaction.

“I think she has tickly feet.” Y/N commented, after Ruby pulled her feet away from Steve’s hands.

“I love you so much.” Steve suddenly said, Y/N looked up at him, to see that Steve was looking directly into her eyes, his face serious.

“I love you too.” Y/N giggled, surprised by his sudden need to express his love.

“I’ve never been prouder of anyone in my life…you were just so incredible…you were just…”

“I get it. Stop. Please.” Y/N chuckled; Steve’s cheeks glowed with embarrassment as he dropped his chin to his chest.

“I love you too, but please stop with the compliments; it’s embarrassing.” Steve nodded, sliding back onto the other side of Y/N, wrapping his arm tightly around Y/N’s shoulder.

“Sure, honey. Whatever you want.”

~~~~

“So how long are you going?” Y/N bounced up and down, as she asked Steve the question. Ruby fussing in her arms.

“Thankfully it’s just half a shift, but it can always run over, but I’ll try and get home to you as soon as I can. I’ll call you when I can, to check in on you. If you have any problems then you can just give me a ring, my phone will remain in my pocket this time.” Steve winked, then leaned in to kiss Y/N fleetingly on the lips, before disappearing out the door.

Leaving Y/N with the squawking baby, and a load of housework to do.

“Wow, love you too, darling husband.” Y/N huffed, placing Ruby down in her bouncy chair, “Come on, bubs, we’ve got to work together here.”

Y/N sighed heavily as she bounced the seat up and down, eventually Ruby’s cries began to die down, turning it to soft whimpers, then Y/N grabbed her pacifier and her cries completely disappearing.

“That’s my baby.” Y/N smiled, turning to the pile of ironing in the corner of their laundry room, hands going to her hips. “Right, let the games begin.”

So far Y/N had managed to get through most of the ironing, when a knock on the front door nearly startled Ruby awake.

Y/N spun round, squinting as Ruby thrashed around a little, before resuming her regular sleep positions. Breathing out a sigh of relief, she walked to the front door, only to be greeted by their neighbour, Andy.

“Morning, Y/N.” He smiled, Y/N looked at him sceptically, he had been doing this more and more, since Y/N and Steve had moved in. Turning up after Steve had left for work, wanting to chat, or he would sometimes bring their post from their letter box for them. It was strange and the man seemed harmless, but Y/N couldn’t help but be on edge around the man she didn’t know.

“Morning Andy, how can I help you this morning?” Y/N asked shyly, hiding half her face behind the door, the safety chain still in it’s place.

“Just thought I’d tell you that there are some workmen coming in today, there’s been some problems with the gas.” Y/N eyed the man, not sure what he was saying was true.

“I’ve not had any issues, Steve would have said this morning, when he had a shower. I think it’s fine for us, but thank you, I’ll keep an eye on it.” Y/N went to shut the door, but it was abruptly stopped by Andy’s foot being wedged in the door.

“Please take your foot away, Andy.” Y/N began to panic, her hands gripping the door frame.

“I’m just saying, that there will be some workmen knocking on your door, in a few hours, just thought I’d prewarn you.” Andy seemed slightly unnerved, himself, but his foot stayed.

“Okay…I understand that…Now please remove your foot.” Y/N speaks slowly, Andy removed his foot at a similar pace, and Y/N quickly closed the door on him. Leaning back against it, her hand going to her chest, feeling the way her heart, beat rapidly against her palm.

Exhaling, she pushed herself off the door, walking towards the still sound asleep baby.

“We’re going to be okay, we can do this can’t we, Rubes. It’s just a couple of workmen, we don’t need to call daddy.” Y/N mainly spoke to herself, as her shaky fingers, pulled the blanket tighter over Ruby

“Yeah we can do this, mommy’s just being silly.” Y/N shook her head at herself, going back to the pile of clothes that still needed folding.

A few hours later, another knock came to the door, making Y/N jump, which alarmed Ruby, who was resting in Y/N’s arms, making her squeal and shriek.

“Awl Ruby, please darling.” She rocked the baby, staggering to the door, as she tried to hush the child.

“Who is it?” She called over the wails of the newborn, Ruby’s lips quivering with the amount of force she was using to cry out.

“It’s the gas man, I’ve come to look at your boiler?” A man’s rough voice spoke from the other side. Hesitating, Y/N’s hand rested on the door chain unsure if she wanted to slide that little ball of metal across, removing her one line of defence.

However, Ruby’s cries grew louder and louder, Y/N couldn’t take the crying anymore, and she felt embarrassed that the man had, had to wait so long already.

Y/N slid the chain over, and with her back to the door, turned the lock on the door, allowing it to swing open, freely.

“Sorry, she’s a newborn, the boilers in there, I need to sort her out.” Y/N explained, pointing to the laundry room, where the boiler sat, she didn’t look up from Ruby’s scarlet face, as she wondered into the bedroom bouncing the newborn in her arms, hoping to soften the cries.

“It’s okay, I’ve got a new baby in the house, I understand.” The man said behind her, Y/N barely paid attention, just briefly throwing a look over her shoulder, to see the man dressed in mainly black, with a black hat on. He bent down in the laundry room, and placed his toolbox on the ground, keeping his back to Y/N and the baby.

“Really you got any tips for a new mom, because my god I will take anything.” Y/N breathed, looking down at her screaming baby.

“Not really, we’re pretty new to this ourselves.” The man laughed, reaching into his bag to pull out some sort of equipment.

“Oh really, how old is yours?” Y/N asked, placing her pinky finger into Ruby’s mouth, it worked to calm her cries, and Y/N could now hear the man more clearly.

“It’s a little girl, and she’s only a few weeks old, I think maybe two or three.” Y/N wasn’t so keen on that answer, quirking her eyebrow.

“How do you not know how old your baby is?” Y/N asked, in a jovial voice, not wanting to appear rude.

“Oh, my wife deals with all that, I just get to cuddle her when I get home from work.” The man answered, Y/N recognised the voice, as the man’s accent slipped slightly.

“Where did you say you were from?” Y/N pulled Ruby closer to her out of natural instinct, not liking the man’s behaviour.

“Oh, I move around a lot Miss Y/L/N, but I’m from Maine originally.” Y/N’s heart speeded up, she eyed the man knelt in her laundry room, creeping towards the front door slightly.

“How did you know my name was Miss Y/L/N?” Y/N rushed.

“It was on the list of people’s gas, I needed to check.” The man mumbled, he reached into his duffel bag again, his hand remaining hidden.

“My name is Mrs Rogers, has been for a few months now, I bought this apartment under that name, so the tenancy should say that. What did you say your name was again?” Y/N’s breathing became very shallow, when the man rose from the floor, his hand following the rest of his body, revealing the handgun. The man turned, and Y/N shrieked startling Ruby, as she ran to the front door.

“Aw, princess, are you not happy to see me?” Brock laughed, watching Y/N struggle on the door, that he had previously locked.

Y/N pounded her fists onto the door, as she tugged at the handle, Ruby screaming in her arm.

“Let me out, let me out of here!” Y/N screamed banging on the front door, Ruby pressed close to her chest;

“Stay away from me!” Y/N yelled, when Brock moved from the laundry room, heading towards Y/N and the baby.

Brock approached the flailing woman, a wicked smile stretched across his face, he stopped just short of the two of them, Y/N’s eyes drifted to the kitchen counter, one of the knives Steve had used last night to make dinner, laid abandoned by the kitchen sink.

Brock followed Y/N’s gaze, spotting the knife, and his eyes snapped back to Y/N.

“What are you going to do, princess? You gonna grab that knife? Huh, finish me off properly?” Brock teased; the hand that held the gun shook slightly.

“Do you think, that you could make it to that knife before I blew a hole in your head?” Brock began to pace towards Y/N once again. Y/N shrunk back sliding down the door, holding Ruby as close as she could.

“No, please don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt my baby.” Y/N cried, burring her face in Ruby’s blanket.

“Princess, I don’t want to hurt you…well I don’t want to hurt the baby, I can promise that, you…maybe not so much, but the baby, the baby will remain unharmed.” Brock grinned, grabbing Y/N by the scruff of her shirt, and heaving her onto her feet making her scream. She turned to pull on the door again, pounding on the fake wood.

Y/N hoped if she made enough noise that one of the neighbours might hear something, like they had done on that fateful night.

“Princess, the door is locked, it’s not going to open. Why do you keep trying?” Brock shook Y/N by her shirt, Y/N held Ruby close so that the movement wouldn’t make her drop her.

“I know why. It’s because you’re stupid,” Brock spat, “what are you?!” Brock bellowed, making Y/N shake, “Huh, tell me what you are, tell me!”

“I’m stupid.” Y/N squeaked, barely audible over the cries of the baby.

The sound of Y/N’s ring tone broke the air of suspense, Y/N’s head snapped to the device, and she tried to grab it, before Brock could but she couldn’t reach it in time.

Brock threw Y/N to the side, she had to be careful to catch herself, before she fell on Ruby; he moved to the phone, picking it up.

“Awe that’s sweet. Lover boy must be checking up on you.” Brock mocked, clicking the off button on the phone.

“If I don’t answer him, then he’ll come home. He gets worried about me, because he cares-“

“Just be quiet, I’m not going to be here for much longer.” Brock threw Y/N’s phone into the sink.

Brock pulled out one of the chairs, under the table, seating himself down, resting the gun on the top. Y/N slouched onto the floor, a few metres away from his feet, rocking Ruby, hoping to calm her cries.

“So, when was my daughter born then, I had to use your neighbour for months, hoping that he would get me some information about my little girl. Yet he was useless.” Brock flicked his head to Y/N, her hands shook as she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Andy?” Y/N quivered.

“Yes, that boring bastard.” Brock pretend yawned, “Made him check on you every day, yet he still didn’t tell me when the baby was born.” Brock huffed, before he sat up in the chair, spinning in it slightly so he could lean heavily on his elbows, and glared at Y/N.

“Tell me, did it hurt?” Y/N looked up at Brock, unsure of what he meant.

“Did what hurt?” She whispered.

“See what did I say, completely stupid!” Brock yelled, making Y/N flinch, and Ruby’s softening cries erupt into howls once again, “What the fuck did you think I meant. Did it hurt when you pushed that out of your pussy?”

Y/N cringed at Brock’s vulgar language, grateful that Ruby was too young to understand what was happening.

“Well!” Brock pressed.

“Umm…yes, it hurt.” Y/N didn’t know what Brock wanted her to say.

“Like really hurt, did you think you were going to die?” Brock’s face twisted up into a wicked smile.

“What do you think would hurt more, pushing out another one of my kids, or a bullet in your leg?” Brock’s tone had dropped into a sinister pitch, Y/N shuddered at his words.

“I don’t know…I don’t understand the question.” Y/N wobbled, shuffling so her knees were pulled close, shielding Ruby.

“Fucking stupid.” Brock hissed.

“It’s a fairly simple question, which would you rather want; to push one of my kids out, or be shot in the leg?” Brock snapped.

“What do you want Brock, what do you want from me?” Y/N shook.

“I want to know if it’s worth me bringing you with me, when I take that baby, or whether I should just shoot you in the leg, so that you can suffer that pain, as well as, the agony of knowing that I’m raising our baby.” Brock shrugged, as if the statement he had just made, didn’t feel as though he had already shot her.

“She’s my baby, and she’s not going anywhere with you.” Y/N seethed through her teeth, the mother bear instinct kicking into a full swing.

“Well, if I shot you in the head then you couldn’t exactly stop me, could you?” Brock stood from the chair, wondering over to Y/N’s trembling figure, holding the barrel of the gun against her temple.

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her lips to Ruby’s head, holding her breath waiting for the sound to come.

“But, I couldn’t do that,” Brock lowered the gun, turning away, “I want you to suffer…like I’ve suffered.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” Y/N snivelled, a little breathless, as she realised, she was now engaging with a waltz with Death, that she hadn’t practiced for.

At Y/N’s words, Brock rushed towards her, pulling Y/N back up to her feet, their faces were inches from each other.

“Because you couldn’t just take it, could you?” Flecks of Brock’s silva sprayed Y/N’s face as he spat out his words, it almost burned like venom from a snake, “You couldn’t just be a good little girl, and do as you were told, without the answering back, without the disobedience, without the adultery. Just let me fuck you where and when I want, you couldn’t let me have that could you, you couldn’t let me enjoy myself.”

“You raped me, Brock. My baby, was conceived out of hatred and violence.” Y/N choked, the way Brock lifted her up by her collar had caused the material to tighten around her neck.

“It’s our baby, and you’ve ruined my life, with your little crying rape story.” Brock put on a high-pitched voice as he accused Y/N of lying.

“Because of you, I’ve lost everything. Funny enough companies don’t usually allow suspected rapists to defend them in court. So, do you know what that means? Do you? Answer me!” Brock yelled.

“No, I don’t know what it means-what-what does it mean?” Y/N blubbered, Brock’s tone becoming more and more frightening.

“It means S.H.I.E.L.D let me go, without any clients, I was useless to them. I lost everything because of you. So, I’m going to take back what I’m owed.” Brock’s eyes dropped to the fluff of hair that was peeking out from under the blanket.

“No, no you’re not taking my baby, anywhere.” Y/N pulled against Brock’s hand, that was gripping her tightly.

“She’s mine. I deserve her.”

“As what, a consolation prize, for being a rapist?” Y/N shrieked, managing to break free of the hold Brock had on her, stumbling backwards slightly.

“As a fresh start, a new life.” Brock smiled; his eyes were still fixed on the little baby in Y/N’s arms.

“You will never take this baby from me.” Y/N glared, the need to protect her baby, was far stronger than her fear.

“Why take her away from you. Come with us. I’m sure, after some time has passed, I could learn to forgive you for what you did. I’m sure you could make it up to me, like you used to.” Brock’s eyes darted down to his crotch, and Y/N had to swallow hard to stop herself from vomiting.

“I’d sooner rip your dick off, than let you touch my daughter or me ever again.” Y/N threatened, the anger in her rising.

“You know for someone’s who’s only weapon is a little baby, you really shouldn’t be making threats, against a man, who with just one squeeze of his fingers, could blow your brains across these lovely white walls.” Brock taunted, waving the gun in his hand.

Y/N didn’t flinch, she just narrowed her eyes, wishing she could shoot daggers out of them.

Suddenly in the far distance was the sound of sirens, they appeared to be of a length away, however, they appeared to be getting closer.

“What did you do?” Brock lunges towards Y/N and before she could escape his grasp, his hand grabbed hold of her arm, and was pulling her into their bedroom.

“Nothing, how could I do anything, you’ve held me hostage for the last hour.” Y/N chided, stumbling over her own feet, as Brock tossed her into her room, barricading them both into the room by pushing the items of furniture into the bedroom. “I told you, you should have let me speak to Steve, he’s been on edge since the trial.”

“What are you doing, you do know there is a large window, right here.” Y/N points over her shoulder at the Manhattan skyline, that stand behind her.

“Shut the fuck up.” Brock retorted, pushing Y/N to the side, so that he could get to the large heavy curtains, tugging them around, leaving just a small space for him to peak out of.

“What’s your plan now? Hold us hostage?” Y/N plonked onto the bed, glancing down to look at Ruby, who was looking back at her, her lower lip wobbling a little.

“Be quiet, I’m thinking.” Brock began pacing, Y/N could see through the small gap in the curtains and could hear the sirens that were attached to the battalion of cars, that were flooding the street below.

Brock stopped mid-pace, when he spotted the picture frame on the bedside table. Bucky had gifted it to Y/N and Steve a few weeks ago; it was a framed photograph of Y/N, Steve and Ruby, it had been taken a few minutes after Ruby had been born, the two of them were smiling as they gazed at the fresh little bundle in their arms.

“The perfect family.” Brock spoke lowly, walking to the table, and picking up the frame.

“He’s the best father in the world.” Y/N argued, pulling Ruby into her once again, as Brock looked down at the frame.

“He’s not a father.” Brock raised the frame, “You’re living a lie. He will never satisfy your needs like I can, princess. He can’t look after you the way that I can.”

Brock threw the picture to the floor, the glass shattering onto the floor, he stamped onto it, a few more times, before kicking it away.

“Feel better? Does it make you feel like a man, ruining other people’s lives?” Y/N growled; her eyes fixed on the pile of glass.

“Stop talking, unless you’re going to give me that baby or agree to come with me, I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth.” Brock barked, starting to stalk the room once again.

Both of their heads whipped to the door, hearing banging coming through the wood, echoing from the front door.

“Y/N, Y/N, can you hear me, are you in there?” Sam’s voice broke through the banging, Y/N stood from the bed, opening her mouth to scream.

“One sound, and I’ll shoot you, I don’t care, who I hit.” Brock whispered harshly.

“He’ll know that I’m here. He knows that I don’t leave the house without Steve.” Y/N muttered, just as fierce.

“Brock, if you’re in there, then just come out now, before you make things worse.” Sam tried once again.

“I’m not going anywhere till I get what I came for.” Brock roared back, making Y/N shudder at the harshness of his voice.

Ruby began to fuss in Y/N’s arms, she could pick up on the tension and the anxiousness that she could feel from her mother.

“Shut her up.” Brock was growing angrier and angrier, his fists were shaking, the gun in his hand was beginning to rattle.

“That’s easier said than done.” Y/N peeled Ruby away from her chest, the little newborn starting to weep.

“What’s the time?” Y/N asked Brock, noticing the way Ruby smacked her lips together.

“Why got somewhere to be?” Brock snarled, tapping his foot.

“No, I just think that she needs a feed, and I don’t want to do it in front of you.” Y/N glared, trying to hush Ruby, who was growing hangrier and hangrier.

“Why, I’ve seen it all before.” Brock winked, again Y/N felt sick to her stomach.

“Please, just let me go in the bathroom, it’s not like I can run away from in there.” Y/N sassed.

“Just turn around, I won’t be able to see anything if you have your back to me.” Brock chided.

“I hate you.” Y/N mumbled, shuffling around so her back was to Brock.

Y/N struggled, trying to make Ruby latch on, but she just broke out into shrill cries.

“I told you to shut her up.” Brock snapped, Y/N threw a glare over her shoulder, before struggling to get Ruby to feed.

“You’re scaring her.” Y/N muttered, stroking Ruby’s cheek in an attempt to get her to be quiet.

“Scaring her, how can I scare her? She doesn’t have a fucking clue, what’s going on?” Brock bellowed, making the crying situation worse.

“Well, what is happening here? I mean what are you actually doing, there are police at the door, going by that thudding noise coming from the window, there is some kind of helicopter, just outside the glass. What is your plan now, now that you’ve got nowhere to run.” Y/N covered herself up, giving up on feeding Ruby, and just glaring at Brock, who looked like he hadn’t the faintest idea what to do next.

The awkward suspense was broken by another phone going off; this time it was Brock’s in his pocket. Slowly sliding it out, he suspiciously answered it, not breaking his eye contact with Y/N, as he listened to the voice on the end of the phone.

“Oh, it’s you.” Brock spoke, gruffly, “…what I want is for you lot to move back, I’m going to look through the spy hole in the door, if I see a single one of your men I’m going to shoot, Y/N and the kid. I want all of your men out of the building, and that helicopter, I want it gone…”

Y/N realised that Brock was making his demands, her ears twitched as she listened intently, gently rocking Ruby, who was beginning to calm down.

“I mean it Wilson if I see a single blue flashing light, you’re going to be dealing with a double homicide.” Y/N perked up when she heard Brock use the name Wilson, she couldn’t decide whether she was still scared, or slightly relieved to know that she had friends so close.

It went quiet once more as Sam was clearly responding to Brock’s demands.

“Fine…but make it quick.” The phone was thrusted into Y/N’s face, she flinched back, but with shaky hands, she took the device, holding it to her ear.

“Hello?” She said, cautiously.

“Y/N, is that you?” Sam’s worried voice played through the mobile.

“Yeah, it’s me, Sam.” Y/N’s eyes darted to Brock, who was already staring at her.

“What’s going on, are you and the baby oka-Steve…hey…no…you can-“

“Sweetheart…Sweetheart…can you hear me, are you okay?” Suddenly Sam was pushed off the phone, and Steve breathed heavily done the line.

“I’m okay, so is Ruby, were just a little shaken up.” Y/N watched Brock’s grip pulse on the gun, as he grew more and more nervous, the longer the phone call continued.

“Has he hurt you, I swear to god, if he has-“

“No, Steve. We’re fine.”

“Steve? I didn’t agree to that.” Brock snatched the phone out of Y/N’s hand, “Listen hear Rogers; if you don’t get Wilson to move his men out of the building, I’m shooting your pretty little wife in the head, then I’m killing that baby.” Brock abruptly ended the call, before lifting the gun and pointing it at Y/N.

Y/N turned her back on Brock, attempting to shield Ruby with her body.

“Brock, please, please don’t do this…I’ll do what you want, whatever it is, I’ll do it.” Y/N begged, squeezing her eyes shut.

“You should have thought of that, when you decided to ruin my career.” Brock’s voice dripped like poison, making Y/N’s head hurt.

The soft thud that had been outside the window for quite some time, had now passed, leaving just the usual noises of Manhattan to fill the empty space. Brock lowered the gun and walked to the window, carefully angling the curtains, so that he could peek through the gap, without being spotted.

When he was satisfied with the view, he went back to the door, removing the items of furniture that were obscuring the way out.

“Stay here, don’t fucking move, or you’ll have a hole in your head.” Brock threatened, before walking out of the bedroom, to look out through the spy hole by the front door.

Brock soon returned, grabbing hold of Y/N’s arm, heaving her onto her feet.

“Don’t touch me.” Y/N snarled, ripping her arm out of his grip.

“I’ll do what I fucking want.” Brock spat, grabbing hold of Y/N’s hair, “Now fucking walk.”

Using the fist of hair, he had achieved in grasping, Brock manipulated Y/N’s head, before pushing her through the door. Once again, Y/N had to stop herself from falling on top of Ruby, steadying herself with a nearby couch.

“Wait.” Brock ordered, just as they were walking past the open planned kitchen. Brock moved in front of Y/N, to check the spy hole for the last time. Y/N’s eyes darted to the knife that still lay on the counter, as quickly as she could she grabbed it, hiding it under Ruby’s blanket that was over her chest.

Brock turned around none the wiser.

“Right, move it.” Brock pushed Y/N again back to the door.

Brock unlocked it, and Y/N twisted the handle, then she edged her way out of the apartment, eyes scanning the corridor, but feeling disheartened when there was no sign of a police officer or Steve to be found.

“Move.” The barrel of the gun was pressed in between Y/N’s shoulder blades, forcing her to move forwards, and be guided along the walkway by Brock.

“When we get to the lobby, you better do exactly as I say, or I’ll start shooting, got it?” Y/N nodded, not trusting her voice, her hand sweating around the concealed blade.

Slowly they made their way to the end of the hallway, before taking a short trip down the stairwell, all the while, Y/N’s hand remained firm on the handle of the knife.

Brock grabbed the back of Y/N’s neck, making her stop in her tracks, just before the two of them walked around a corner, which would leave them in the middle of the lobby.

“Wait there.” Brock pushed Y/N behind him, whilst he craned his neck around the wall, observing the fleet of cops that waited by the door.

Y/N watched the space at the back of Brock’s neck, the exosed skin between his t-shirt and hairline.

Her grip tightened on the knife, seeing this as her chance she removed the knife from the blanket, raising it above her head, the tip wobbled slightly, from the vibrations in Y/N’s trembling hands. Holding her breath, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, bringing it down with the force of a thousand men, straight into the gap.

Brock made an odd gurgling sound, followed by some drowned groans. However, Y/N didn’t stay around to find out what was happening, cupping the back of Ruby’s head, she made a run for it, towards the doors; her and Ruby screamed all the way.

“Contact, hands in the air, put your hands in the air.” Eight or nine members of the SWAT team, with their guns held high, began to yell.

Y/N a sobbing mess, didn’t know where to look, she just needed Steve.

“Help me! Help me, please!” Y/N shrieked, Ruby was probably crying her throat raw, as she screeched just as loudly.

“Put your guns down, put your guns down!” A familiar voice broke through the group of men. A man Y/N recognised, alongside a fellow blonde, came into Y/N’s blurry vision.

“Sweetheart, sweetheart, I’m here, come to me.” Steve’s voice sounded like a songbird, Y/N broke into another sprint, before running into Steve’s open arms.

“Where is he, where is he?!” Y/N screamed and trembled, her voice cracking as her body broke out into a full tremor, not knowing how far Brock had managed to stagger, after she had severed most of his vital nerves in his neck.

Steve was holding the back of her neck, as he held her head away, so she couldn’t she see the operation that was underway.

“Where he belongs, bubba…” Steve watched as a few members of the police squad walked into the building, it wasn’t long before they returned, carrying a black bag, the size of a man.

“He’s where he belongs…in hell.”

A/N: Aye, not gonna lie, I did debate a darker ending, but I’m too emotional right now to do that, and all I want is a three-way cuddle with Bucky and Steve, and nothing else will console me.

Thank you to everyone, who enjoyed this book, it’s been a journey. There has been tears, laughter and anger, all of the best emotions and reflexes rolled into one, however; our time together has come to an end. I am going to take a little break from writing, just for a moment, because I’ve just had a busy couple few weeks, but I think I will put a Q & A post up on Monday, just to keep up with you guys.

The next book, is in the boardroom at the moment, and I’ll start working on it in a few weeks, but for now I need to chill for a sec.

For those of you who have sent me some prompts I will get round to doing them, I just as I’ve said a lot, need a rest for a bit. But you will be done at some point.

Love you all,

JellyBean xxxxx

Taglist:

@this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru @cutie1365 @saiyanprincesswanie @pasaaloquepasaa @emma-is-a-nerd @traumschiffe @putinovertime @vibraniumdaisies @brownsugur @speechlessxx @winchester-wifey @buckys-forgotten-plum @lou-la-lou @candy-and-writing @lemonadygirl @marvelinsanity @captainamerica-is-bae

#steve rogers #steve x reader #steve fic #steve angst #brock rumlow x reader #brock rumlow #doctor!steve #doctor!steve x reader #dark fic #dark steve fic #dark marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel movies #reader insert

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vulturevanity · 3 years

Note

Ello-ello!

Got me an owl house question, yes I do! An’ it’s a Lilith question too! Yer favorite character!

Based on de season two trailer we saw an’ other information available at de moment, what do yer think de relationship was like between Lilith an’ her mother?

Do yer think Eda was de favored child while poor-ee-lad Lilith was de scapegoat? There is de one clip of a young Eda cowerin’ behind a door while a shadow or her mom seems to be shouting’ at someone.

Do yer think de mom was shouting at Lilith? What do yer think the Clawthorne’s family life was like?

Yer may be wonderin’ why I wrote all of this in a sort of accent. Well, it’s to keep things a bit more interestin’, eh.

oh hell yeah I missed writing walls of text about The Owl House

I know you asked for one of my Lilith Rambles, but this went off-course real fast so have a loose Clawthorne family analysis instead. I hope it's coherent at least

To be honest, that fourth of a second is a bit too short for me to infer anything from it, mostly because it's completely devoid of any context; we don't even know who mama Clawthorne is yelling at, and I can't in good faith jump to the conclusion that it's Lilith. (@sepublic, in one of their analysis posts, throws in the possibility of the target of such ire being the girls' other parent. I can see that.)

What little I can extrapolate from the trailer -- putting together all the other snippets we see of mama Clawthorne (Gwendolyn, as her VA revealed a while ago) and her fledglings, is that they seem to have a very... complicated relationship.

As I recall mentioning before a while ago, That little conversation at the end of Covention is really interesting. Eda calls her parents "a mystery", and King emphasizes how much Luz doesn't want to know about them; that alone paints a not very flattering picture of them. Combine that with what we see in the trailer, and it really seems like Lilith got the short end of the stick in the family.

The choice of giving Gwen what looks like* an eagle palisman -- which competes with owls and preys on corvids! -- is... concerning. If I were to take that at face value, I'd say Eda and her mom used to butt heads a lot, while Lilith (whom I have said time and again is a notorious coward) was probably too intimidated to be upfront about any shenanigans.

But that alone doesn't mean there was a hierarchy in the house, or that Lilith a scapegoat/victim of abuse. It may just be ye olde case of a toxic household. Shitty parents are shitty. If you want textbook Golden Child/Scapegoat abuse, look no further than the Blight family. As far as I can tell, the Clawthornes are far less deliberate than that.

* - Post-analysis speculation, aka basically a crack-theory:

Now I say "looks like a bald eagle", because as much as the anatomy of the palisman resembles a typical bald eagle, one tiny detail caught my attention during my second watch:

Bald eagles don't have crests. I have searched around a lot and couldn't find a species of eagle that looks just like a bald eagle but has a crest, or black feathers in their heads (if there are eagles like that then I guess this whole segue is rendered moot, but pointless speculation is what I live for so bear with me). Do you know what looks like a bird of prey and has a black feathered crest?

This dumbass.

This bird is a Caracara. It's endemic to where I live -- in fact, a family of them lives right by our cottage. They are, for the most part, completely harmless. They're opportunistic scavengers, only ever known to hunt as a last resort, and only hunting very small animals. We have a chicken coop, and the most they ever caught from it was a couple of eggs once.

So yeah. It's still a 99.9% chance that Big Bird is a bald eagle with a cool design choice, but the first thought I had when I saw that dark spot on its head was "Oh? Caracara?" which, on the 0.1% chance that it turns out to be true, would completely upend our first impressions of the Clawthorne family dynamic.

Food for thought.

#the owl house #toh season 2 #edalyn clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #gwendolyn clawthorne #character analysis #this is one of my posts ever #what a mess

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stones-x-bones · 3 years

Text

You Don’t Have To Be Good || Deirdre and Bex

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @deathduty and @inbextween SUMMARY: Deirdre finds Bex in the fossil room and the two have a heart to heart. CONTENT: Domestic abuse mentions, References to child abuse

You’ll know human inferiority when you see how they don’t understand. Siobhan wiped Deirdre’s tears away, voice warm and sweet in a way that Deirdre would chase forever. She’d been sent home early, having been told her showing off of a dead bird was wholly inappropriate and furthermore, the sign of some deficiency. The humans don’t know the beauty of a skeleton.

But there was some part of her, mature now, and leaned up against the door frame of her bone room, that thought her mother might have been the one who didn’t understand. There was a human, staring wide-eyed at her meager fossil collection (visions were harder to pull from remnants that old, and as such, she preferred more death in a fresher state). She looked at them with the very wonder she’d been taught a human could never have. The same way she looked at them. “There are gloves there, if you want to touch any of them.” Deirdre announced, pushing herself off the door frame and greeting Bex with a smile. “Go ahead, a chara. You can see them better when you hold them in your hands.”

While Morgan had said Bex was free to any room in the house, she’d always been extra careful when going into Deirdre’s fossil room. Never touched anything, never stayed too long. Instead she would just stand near the cases and stare wide-eyed like a kid in a candy shop. She liked trying to figure out which skeleton was what, even though the articulated ones were pretty obvious. The fossils were the more fascinating part to her, but bones were just fossils that were too young, so, really, they were all the same. They all told a story and they all had history. She was trying to get back to a sense of normalcy after what had happened yesterday and over the past week, glancing at one of the sheet fossils when Deirdre’s voice filled the room and Bex jumped. She was used to watching her surroundings usually, making sure she knew who was around or when she was alone-- but being in this house made her feel relaxed enough to not feel the need to do that. It was becoming a problem. “Oh, I--” she started, stopped, “it’s okay! I wouldn’t wanna mess with your stuff.”

“No, please,” Deirdre gestured. She stepped into the room and grabbed a pair of gloves for herself, slipping them on before she extended a pristine white pair of fabric clothes for Bex’s own use. “I insist. I don’t collect these things so they can sit here unadmired. Granted, it’s mostly me that does the admiring…” Deirdre trailed off, glancing down at the gloves in her hand. She shook them, for emphasis. Morgan was always better at this; the talking and the socializing. And even for the fact that Bex had been with them for a while, Deirdre hadn’t done much for her. For that, she was guilty. But guilt didn’t serve the bone room. They did, after all, have one thing more in common than the same roof over their heads. “There’s amber in the drawers, I only have a few pieces, so I haven’t put them into a proper display and--Hold on--” Deirdre shifted away, pulling open one of her draws on the far wall, revealing tiny bones housed safely in velvet, and the amber. Deirdre pulled on out, it wasn’t a mosquito, but some bug-like creature she didn’t know the name of. “Like in the movie,” she said as she offered it out as well, “what do you think?” Deirdre turned up, gazing about the entirety of her immaculate collection. “Of the whole room; what do you think?”

Bex watched Deirdre curiously as she slid into the room and pulled out a pair of gloves. Tentatively, she reached out and took the pair offered to her, sliding them on carefully. Most of the things in special rooms in her own home were one-hundred percent off-limits to her, even now, as an adult. But especially so when she was a child. She remembered from her conversations with Deirdre that she had lived in a household very similar to Bex’s, in size and strictness. It felt a little like an unspoken thing between them. Deirdre was pulling open a drawer full of bits of amber, and Bex peered curiously inside, holding out her hands as she plucked a piece out. “Oh! Is that a myrmeleontoid?” She lit up instantly at the sight of the ancient beetle species, the first time she’d cracked a real smile in a long while. There were quite a few different bug species back in the ancient world, but only a few had been captured in amber and preserved well enough. They’d found plenty of bee and fly and ant species in amber, but beetles were often more rare. She looked up at Deirdre, then, still holding the amber as if it were the most delicate thing on earth. “It kinda makes me jealous,” she said, but she was still smiling, “I wish I had an entire room for fossils. Did these take long to collect?”

Deirdre’s brows knitted together in a way she hoped Bex couldn’t notice. The caution and the reservation, even the quiet wonder, was all familiar. Yet, in the empty spaces of her identity, at Bex’s age, she filled it with arrogance. Bex seemed to fill it with...anxiety. Then again, Deirdre wasn’t sure how she might’ve acted if there ever was anyone kind enough to take her in. “A what?” She laughed, “that’s a big word, you’re going to have to dumb it down for me. I’m an actuary, not a scientist.” Deirdre glanced down at the amber as Bex continued, pulling her bottom lip in with her teeth. Humans wouldn’t understand, she thought, and in this case, she considered that Bex wouldn’t even believe. But she’d found most of these bones, and simply ordered what was rare. “I was angry,” she started, staring out at her displays, numerous and carefully organized. “I could hardly bring any bones from Ireland with me; nothing big, anyway. And I’d have to start my whole collection all over again, in this miserable town, and I was angry. Then the day after I moved in, I took a walk and right there in the snow was bits of a moose.” She turned, and gestured to the spine fragments on display; a sentimentality for her first find here. “There are no moose in Ireland, and no point in being angry or jealous. Just start your own. Again, someplace new.” Deirdre laughed softly to herself, crossing her arms over her chest. “All of this took just about a year. And you can have your own bone room, Bex. The basement is used for nothing more than Christmas decoration storage, and I don’t think Morgan would object with making it yours.”

“Um, sorry. It’s a type of ancient beetle,” Bex explained, “this looks like the larval stage, but I’ve only ever seen photos, so I can’t be sure, really.” She pinched the block between her finger and thumb and held it up to the light to examine it better. Bubbles of air had frozen in time around the critter’s head, and around it’s legs. Being trapped in sap sounded like a terrible fate. She wondered how long it was before the poor thing had suffocated. Her gaze turned back to Deirdre when she spoke again, finding her staring at her displays with a nostalgic look. Bex, if anything, was at least good at picking out micro-expressions on peoples’ faces. It was a self-preservation tactic. “There’s a ton of moose here. They have trail maps that can show you their migration habits. There’s probably a lot more skeletons along those paths.” She paused. “I’m sorry you had to leave your old collection behind. But this one is pretty great, you know.” Her eyes trailed over to Deirdre again and she made brief eye contact, before looking away, holding the amber back out to her. Her mind wandered so much easier these past few days, full of painkillers and visions of claws. She just wanted something normal. “I...can’t do that. Couldn’t ask you to do that for me. Besides, I don’t have any fossils or bones anyway. My parents don’t exactly approve of that hobby. Last time I tried to stash some in my closet my mom ransacked it and threw them all away.”

With a frown, Deirdre took the amber as it was given back. “Are your parents here, Bex?” Deirdre asked quietly, sincerely. She remembered her first move away from her family, and how every day she expected her mother to barge in, and turn up her nose at the dust that lived under her furniture. For all the times she did turn up unannounced, even in this home she had now, it was never as simple as the dust. “I don’t plan on having anyone in my house that I disagree with,” Deirdre’s eyes narrowed, voice turning sharp as she remembered Ariana. “I don’t like the idea of people like that intruding on what’s meant to be safe.” What’s meant to be hers. But Deirdre shook her head; this was about Bex. “I had novels. Romance, mostly. Growing up, I liked them. I hid them under my bed. My cousin knew about them, and one day, when she was angry at me, she told my mother. To this day, I can still smell them burning; how my mother looked standing by the fire; how I had to bite the inside of my cheeks to keep from crying.” Deirdre slowly returned the amber to its place, looking back at Bex. “They won’t hurt you here. They won’t know. I won’t let them. You are safe here, you understand that, don’t you?”

The question took Bex by surprise, but then again, hadn’t she been asking herself that every day? Are they here? Will they come? Will they take her back? She watched Deirdre take the amber and squeezed her hands shut around the air where it used to be. The answer was no, but also yes. Because no, they were not here physically. They could not grab Bex or yell at her or stand between her and the doorway. But yes, because she saw them everywhere. In every raised hand, in every loud voice, in every corner of the room when she was just a bit too tired or too lost in thought-- and then she’d blink, and they’d be gone, but they were there. They were always there. They were more frightening than a bloodthirsty werewolf sometimes. “No,” she answered back just as quietly. She wrapped her arms around herself as she listened. Her chest ached. How many of Bex’s fantasy books or history compendiums or fuck, even comic books, had her mom stolen away from her? Torn to shreds and dumped in the garbage. Her mother didn’t care to burn the evidence. She hadn’t minded when Bex would pull whatever remains she could find from the trash to try and piece them back together, sobbing on the study floor. It was a lesson, she told her. One she could learn fast. And she had. Just like the books, the fossils were destroyed. The bones were snapped, sometimes like her own. She looked at Deirdre, not realizing the tears in her eyes until she was blinking them away. She turned her face. “You don’t know that,” she said back, “how can you guarantee that?”

Deirdre still felt wonder every time Morgan perked up to hear of something she liked, of her life or what she was doing; excitement for the person she was with such love that she had never been given. The first time it happened, Deirdre thought it must have been a lie. How insidious it was that even when happy, loved, her mother could reach through time and space and sow doubt. How terrible it must have been for Bex. “Your parents are always with you…” she breathed, closing her eyes. “Every doubt. Every hesitation or negative thought. Your fear, your anger, your life...it’s all theirs. They are here. It’s like they live inside your body, always watching, always waiting. You hear their words in your own voice. I know how it is Bex.” She opened her eyes, looking at Bex—hugging herself, crying. “But physically, they are not here. And the only harm they can do is the kind they taught you to do to yourself.” Deirdre moved closer, slowly and gently resting her hand on the young girl’s shoulder. “I know this because no one who stays in this house is anything like them. And I want you to be safe. And we are very similar, Bex.” The humans would never understand. Except Siobhan had never thought her torment was the kind with a name, a human name. And there were many that understood. “I also break glass, but I look a lot cooler when I do it,” she smiled, “and I can guarantee it: I promise you that I won’t let your parents enter this house. And you know my thing about promises, I’d have to keep it. Although, maybe don’t invite your parents over unless you want me to throw your mother through a window.” Deirdre tapped Bex’s head. “What are the parents inside your thoughts saying about that?”

Bex felt her body tightening with each word spoken, truer than the last. A string of sentences that somehow described her life so perfectly and yet so horribly. She trembled and bit down on her lip. She didn’t want to admit it, she’d never admitted it to Morgan, but she hated them. She hated them. They stole her life away and even now that she was out, gone, they were still everywhere. They were inside of her, stealing bits of her. They filled her up and swallowed her whole and her darkest fear, her biggest fear was that, one day, she’d be just like them. She would become her mother, full of anger and resent and pain. She tried to force away the tears but they always stuck around. She did not flinch when Deirdre came close, because her mind inherently understood that someone who had lived it, too, would never dare raise a hand. She hated that Deirdre was right. She looked up when Deirdre said she shattered glass, too, when she said she’d promise to keep her safe. Bex didn’t have words for that, she couldn’t even say no. She scrunched her nose as Deirdre tapped her head, looking up at her-- the only other woman in her life aside from her mom who was taller than her-- and furrowed a brow. “I don’t think I’d mind altogether if you did…” she mumbled, releasing some of the tension in her shoulders. “Did--” she started, stopped. Chewed on the thought. “Did your mom ever tell you...she loved you?”

Deirdre laughed; loud and barking the way she did when she was both surprised and amused. She was quick to stop the sound and wave a hand in the air, trying to tell Bex that she wasn’t laughing at her, but more like laughing with her...even though Bex wasn’t laughing. “Honestly I thought you might like to have the honours of throwing your mother through a window, but I could do it.” Her own mother was far stronger than her, shorter in stature and more lean, but far more skilled. For all Deirdre had been called a prodigy, her mother had the advantage of about sixty more years of training. But the worst Bex’s mother could be was some witch, right? As Deirdre considered the logistics of truly throwing Bex’s mother through a window, she nearly missed the other question. When she heard it, she felt like laughing again. And then she thought about it. Siobhan was a complicated woman; as a child, before her scream, she could remember a warmth. When training, her mother’s patience wore thin. Approval was rare. She had wanted a daughter, had rejoiced in her young activation, but didn’t like the reality of it. She was quick to tell Deirdre that she never cried, she never complained, and she’d had it so much worse.

“Never the word love,” Deirdre said after a moment, “Proud; delighted to have a daughter like me. It was always about the image. She never used the word love--she didn’t believe in it. But she liked to be kind when it suited her; whenever I agreed to her way, she’d call me smart. If I did what she told me, she said she was proud. If she felt like I was going to disobey her, she reminded me that she was my mother. If I seemed displeased, she would dangle everything she did for me over my head. It was these moments that tricked me into thinking she must have been a good mother. If she had been cruel all the time, it wouldn’t have taken me so long to know. I wouldn’t have listened to her. Those drops of approval...I lived for them. I knew they existed, so I chased them. And the more I chased, the more rare they became. The more rare they were, the harder I ran after them. Everything I did was about her. Always about her. So, no, she never said she loved me. She didn’t have to, it wouldn’t have changed anything.” Deirdre rolled up her sleeve, pointing to the iron burn on her forearm. It had been for training, but it was the only scar she had for her mother’s torment; for all of her volatile emotions. “A woman who will do something like this, isn’t one that loves you. As much as I wished she did. As much as I wished my whole family did. It was never about love to them. And as angry as I am with my mother, I know how my grandmother was to her. And I know how my great-grandmother was to her.” She knew because they were all still alive, of course. “Did yours?” She asked, rolling down her sleeve, “ever say she loved you?”

Never the word love. That shouldn’t have reassured Bex as much as it did. But it made her feel just the smallest sense of relief. It shouldn’t have, but it did. Her mother had probably never said it to her. At least not anytime Bex could remember. She remembered a lot of “that’s my girl”s and “you were so well behaved”s and “good girl”s, but never that. Barely even...proud. The closest she got was when her mom would tuck her in to bed and Bex would say the words in her small voice, and her mother, so sweet, and so soft, now that her anger was gone, would sooth down her hair, and brush thumbs over her bruises and say, “Of course, darling.” Listening to Deirdre felt like listening to someone describe herself, her childhood. It made her skin crawl, it made her shiver. She squeezed around herself, burying the pain that was flashing in her eyes. Memories of bruises written into her muscles. Deirdre was rolling up her sleeve and Bex looked down at the mark on her arm. A burn. Her parents were always so careful to never leave anything behind on Bex’s body, she almost wished she had something to show for it. All she had were the memories of broken bones and purple bruises, and blood stained clothes. It wasn’t fair, to either of them. Bex reached out, as if to touch the burn, as if touching it would make it more real, more true. As if touching it would make Bex feel what Deirdre had. But she didn’t need to touch it for any of those things to happen. They just did. She just knew.

Bex pulled her hand back and scratched along the tops of her thighs. Her only marks of her pain were there, on the insides of her thighs. And she’d done them to herself. They were her only ounce of control, for the longest time. Razor blades along skin. She swallowed. “No,” she answered quietly. “I don’t think she knows how to.” Chewed on her lip, rolling it between her teeth. “I wish she would. Sometimes I still think she can.” She looked up at Deirdre, tried to catch her eyes, but found herself unable to hold any sort of gaze. Her eyes fell in shame. “I’ve tried my whole life to get either of my parents to just tell me something, anything close to love. Or even just being proud. Or that they care about me. I keep thinking that if I just do better or try harder it’ll change. It’ll get better. They’ll look at me and tell me they’re proud, that they love me, that I did good. But they just-- it’s only when I do bad. They--” her breath hitched when she inhaled. Why was she already crying? “What did I do wrong?” she suddenly blurted. “Why don’t they love me? Why do they hurt me? I told them I’d be good. I told them I didn't mean to, but they--” She put her head in her hands. “Why can’t I do anything right?”

It was a reflex. Something Deirdre couldn’t explain even if she wanted to. But without thinking, without asking and without meaning to, her arms wrapped around Bex. She pulled the girl in close and gently a hand moved to her hair, stroking the way she thought a mother might–if either of them had ever had one. “You didn’t do anything wrong…” Deirdre said softly. She didn’t believe it much for herself, every silent minute was met with doubt. Perhaps her family had been right. When would Fate come and take away all her nice things like it had so many times before? When did she have to go back? But in that moment, holding Bex in her arms, her doubt fluttered away. And she knew, even if it only would be for these seconds spent with Bex, that neither of them had done anything wrong. “It’s not you. It’s not you, Bex. It’s not your fault. You can bend and break and twist yourself all you want, but they will never see it. Love like that is conditional, fit to be swept away if ever it comes. People like that don’t care, not truly, not like parents ought to. And that’s not your fault. You are a bright and brilliant and kind young woman, and you have grown that way in spite of them, and they will never take that away. Do you understand, Bex? You will always be worthy of love, no matter what. And one day, it’ll be easier to let go of them. One day their voice in your head will get so quiet you won’t hear them unless you strain–and you wouldn’t trouble yourself like that anyway. Because you won’t want to. Don’t wait for them to love you.” Deirdre pulled back, looking Bex in the eyes. “You have people here who do. You don’t need to wait for them. You are good, Bex. You are good to me. Do you understand?”

Of all the things Bex expected from Deirdre, this was not it. Perhaps it was her own aversion to touch that made her not even consider the idea that, maybe, there was a point after all the healing that hugging was not an act of control, but an act of empathy. Bex had hugged Morgan a few times, and while her grasp felt comforting and safe, it was not for lack of trust that had been built. The hurt that Bex carried with her never truly left, but, sometimes, it felt less so when she was in Morgan’s arms. Here, now, as Deirdre wrapped her up and combed fingers through her hair, she was stunned for a moment. Her body didn’t move at first, wondering, if maybe, it was a trick somehow. Like with her mother. But there was no way her mother could ever show any sense of compassion, any sense of empathy the way Deirdre was showing. You are good, Bex. And then, with perhaps just as much fervor and just as much surprise, Bex wrapped her arms back around Deirdre and let herself be taken in. Even if she couldn’t say it yet, her words meant something to her. You are good to me. Hands tightened up in knots, bunching the cloth of Deirdre’s shirt between her fingers. It’s not you, Bex. It’s not your fault. She hiccuped with her strain, words drowned by sobs. Don’t wait for them to love you. She sank into Deirdre’s arms and wondered if she understood without Bex having to say anything. No, she knew she did. A child did not cling so desperately to approval if she did not understand the cruelty of its rejection. Finally, despite her grief still worming its way through her chest, she answered, “I understand,” against Deirdre’s shoulder.

"Good," Deirdre asserted. She squeezed Bex a little tighter, easing slowly into letting her go. She gestured to the door, figuring they'd both had enough emotional release for the day. She wasn't going to make Bex dig up more than she wanted to. "Will you help me bake some salmon biscuits? For the cats and Min--" Deirdre coughed. "Me. I love fish...cookies. Yum." Although, as she thought about it, she wondered if Mina would appreciate being offered cat treats. It wasn't her fault that Mina and the cats shared a fish-centric diet. "Oh, and Bex?" She paused, smiling at the young witch, "have you ever read Wild Geese? I think you'd like it."

#chatzy #wickedswriting #chatzy: deirdre #you don't have to be good #deirdre #domestic abuse mention tw #tw child abuse mention #soft????#this is how u soft right??

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starcrossedyanderes · 3 years

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Beauty and The Birds Part 9

Warning: This chapter contains former abuse from parents, religion (mostly cult-ish stuff), mentions of ‘The Catholic Church’, and supposed witchcraft. A long with general harm of a person because of them being different. If any of this effects you I recommend possibly not reading this. If you are facing any of the above (except for maybe supposed witch craft) you can access this website for help https://www.thehotline.org/ this is the domestic violence hotline and are generally good for a lot of situations.

Disclaimer: I, as always, do not condone this behavior in any sense. A made up sort of cult-like religion is brought up that tries to hide itself as The Catholic Church. I have absolutely nothing against the catholic church as I am personally a protestant (but of course you know how us protestants feel) and I have nothing against what people believe in as long as no one gets hurt. This is based off of the sad incidents of exorcisms and how the are most commonly performed on regular children and how they quickly turn violent. Please, this is never acceptable. You should never be harmed by your religion or because of your religion.

~Previously on Beauty and The Birds~

“Isn’t that cannibalism?”

“Doggo!”

“Sheepies!”

“No. Other birds. I don’t think there’s another like me.”

~Back to Beauty and The Birds~

“It’s a uh.. long story that I haven’t shared with anyone. As you can tell I’m not exactly the best at communicating-“

He physically backed into himself with a blush on his cheeks and a hand rubbing his neck. You physically drooped as you started to walk away.

“Okay, I guess you don’t want to tell me-“

“NO!”

At seemingly the speed of light and a large ‘whoosh’ the bird man appeared right in front of you with his hands spread.

He had this deranged look on his face that seemed to become more and more common as the days passed.

He stepped closer to you with a shaky crazed smile on his face.

“No, no! I’ll tell you! I would tell you anything.”

He placed his hands on your shoulders to pull you in closer as his smile only widened.

“I would do anything for you. You just have to ask and I would tell you whatever you could possibly want to know. As long as you stay so couldn’t care less. It’s all worth it.”

Hm, he seems to show a lot of territorial behavior and desperation. Could this be part of a courtship sort of thing. He seems to be quite attached for only knowing you for what? 2 days? You’ll have to look into that later.

His smile and piercing gaze finally softened as he seemed to return to his normal self.

“I will admit this is a rough topic for me so I would rather if we could instead talk in the nest.”

You eagerly nodded your head as you gripped your discreet recording device as you were flown up to the top floor’s glass observatory.

It seems the nest acts as a comfort sort of place for him. Somewhat how some animals do during heats and pregnancy’s. From what you can tell he isn’t in a heat (although it could explain some things) and he certainly isn’t pregnant so it is quite odd behavior for a bird to exhibit.

~|~

You were currently perched inside the nest as you awaited on Avery’s return. He, to your annoyance, insisted on getting a few snacks

You irritably clutched on a corviknight plushie you found in the nest before it was quickly abandoned on Avery’s return.

In his hands he carried various junk foods but there was an odd one that stood out from the rest.

Tater tots.

After putting down the foods on a little side table he quickly joined you in the Blanket Void TM and quickly into you. His wings wrapped around and whilst spreading sent a turtle duck plushie off of the bed. He quickly let out some gentle cooing as he nuzzled deeply into your neck.

“I’m ready to answer your questions now.”

“Alright, how about an easier question to start off. What’s with the tater tots?”

Of course this question was just a ruse to make sure your device was recording and genuine curiosity.

Avery’s head pulled away from your neck and a frown pulled at his lips. He then proceeded in what you like to call his ‘bby voice’

“Is there something wrong with them? They’re my favorite.”

That-that was not the answer you were expecting. Huh, that’s odd.

“Oh, nothing. Just genuine curiosity.”

Avery immediately relaxed back into your arms after popping a tater tot into his mouth.

“Now, you say you don’t think there’s anyone else like you. Is it because you believe to be the last of your species?”

He stiffened up once again before digging himself more into you.

“Well no, I think. I don’t believe I am part of a species. This may take a while to explain and please bare with me. This is a rough topic that I haven’t really been able to share with anyone.”

You eagerly nodded your head and made sure to give him some headpats which only induced some coos to leave his throat.

“Well my family were rather wealthy and owned an airplane company and I think we did general logistics stuff. We were also rather catholic although now I think we don’t quite fit that term. At least hope not for the sake of people who are actually catholic.

My mother was the heiress and received a lot of suitors. She was supposedly cursed by one of her suitor’s mother after turning him down. We think this may have led to me.. being me.”

You felt rather disheartened but also even more intrigued by this information. So he doesn’t seem to be part of a species, but an odd mutation? (You highly doubted this is from some curse.)

“So where exactly is your family now”

After speaking you popped a tator tot into your mouth.

“I think about 5 years ago my parents, ironically enough, died in a plane crash. I was pretty much only allowed on the estate, the woods, and the church after my wings developed so I wasn’t allowed with them. That was probably a mistake on their parts.”

You waved your arms a bit.

“Hold up, you siad you weren’t allowed anywhere after your wings developed. Does that mean you weren’t born with them.”

Avery let out a reflexive chuckle.

“Ha ha, well I technically was born with them. I was a healthy baby but I had these bumps on my back. Of course everyone was concerned about these being tumors so I was tested frequently. Turns out they were merely bone and somewhat.. hollow. As I grew the bumps started grow into my wings today. The bone thing is also why I take a good bit of calcium since they’re so fragile.”

“But why weren’t you let anywhere after they developed?”

Avery let out a sigh as he mentally prepared himself.

“After the doctors kinda figured out I was somehow growing wings paired with my purple eyes my parents were very excited for me to be an angel like thing. Yeah, I don’t know their understanding either. Maybe consider me as a miracle of the lord of something? Either way they were rather hopeful of this and treated me like a regular son with giving me an education to run the business. But then I got my feathers. Their dreams of an angel were crushed upon seeing that were not pure white but instead a dark black. They became horrified and I was forced to spend a lot of time at the church and was forced to have exorcism after exorcism performed on me. It.. wasn’t pleasant to say the least. My parents quickly hated me and locked me away. But they still needed an heir and they feared to have another child so I was still given an education as I sometimes needed to appear to confirm that they were nice enough to keep me alive.”

You felt some water cascade down your neck as you could place your arms around him in a hug.

“A-Avery that’s awful. I-I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Avery gained a small smile as he pulled away from you hug with tears still gliding down his face.

“Y-You’re the first person to every say sorry to me.”

“Oh, Avery. No one should be deprived of that.”

You forced a small grin on your face to try and cheer him up.

“Ok, no more hardcore questions. Stuff that shouldn’t make you cry now. Sorry to open those wounds like that.”

“No, no. It’s fine. I said I would tell you anything. And I’m honestly over joyed to share anything with you.”

How can someone say something so creepy yet sat at the same time? “Alright then, if you’re sure you want to continue. You’re able to communicate with birds from what I can tell. Do they see you as they’re leader or something?”

“Since I was only really allowed in the woods birds quickly became my only friends and company. Also I’ve done a lot of rehabilitation work that a lot seem to feel indebted to me. A lot of birds tend to follow the bigger bird naturally and they see me as a really big bird so they just kinda.. naturally do what I tell them. It also helps that I feed them too.”

“Makes sense, I guess. Like when I saw this heron in a pond one time and a bunch of ducks just followed him around. Last question for the day, alright?”

Avery nodded his head as he pulled you closer.

“I brought like 3 scarves here but I can’t find any of them. I have a slight feeling you may know where they are.”

Of course you couldn’t see it but a dark blush covered Avery’s face.

“W-well two of them are in the nest. I’m afraid that some of the birds got their hands on the other one somehow and are currently using it to snuggle. I’m working on getting them another scarf so you can get yours back.”

Huh, so he puts many different things in his nest. Also now you had to deal with the conflict of you taking a scarf from some cozy, snuggling birds.

“The birds can keep my scarf. I couldn’t just take it from them like that.”

Avery smiled against your neck and cooed.

“I’m sure they’ll be estatic for their cuddling not to be ruined. Now enough questions, more cuddles and movies.”

#yandere #starcrossedyanderes #romance #original character #yandere romance #yandere male #yandere oc #beauty and the birds #avery #birb

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wildfire317s-oc-box · 3 years

Text

Name: Nijiko Karasu

Species: Demon

Hair Color: Originally black with color shifting ends that go through the rainbow in the right light but after becoming a demon it turned white and shifted color all throughout

Hair Style: Very Long and is usually worn down even her bangs which tend to hang over her face

Eye Color: originally a dark purplish-blue but after becoming a demon they became very bright royal purple

Skin Color: undead pale

Age: 15

How long shes been a demon: 10 years by the end of season one

Nickname: Little Song Bird, Little Crow, Pale Phoenix (only called this by abusers or demon slayers), Niji (for short)

Fashion Sense: Her outfit is generally pretty basic with various shades of purple but she does have a brown belt and hip bag which she may or may not have snagged from one of the guys.

Height: 4'8

Sexuality: Bi leaning towards girls

Strength: as a human she was very weak, timid and suicidal, but after becoming a demon she grew bolder and braver and while still being somewhat self-sacrificial was less likely to let herself get killed on purpose. (When she was human her blood bordered on rare and average) physically shes a little weaker than kyogai was.

Her Story: Her life was very sad, Her mother died giving birth to her and she was born into a family of an abusive father and seven older sisters, all of whom hated her and forced her to do the most work and take the worst punishments. While her father forced all of her sisters to work and punished them as well he was harder on her for two reasons, one being she was supposed to be a boy and the other being that he believed she was solely responsible for her mothers death (pushing his blame onto her). Her sisters hated her because she was the kindest and prettiest out of all of them despite what she went through. Her father was one of the few people who bred and sold kasugai crows, even though she did most of the work and eventually all of the work after a while. Years passed and her father married off all of her sisters in exchange for money to feed his assorted addictions, and he re-married to a woman who was just as bad if not worse then he was meanwhile he found a young man (about 20) from a rich family to marry her off to however he was even lazier and more aggressive than her father but before she would be married off the young man wanted to make sure she would cater to his every beck and call.

She lived her 15 years of life constantly being taken advantage of, bullied, having the voice she prided herself on insulted and dealing with all kinds of ungrateful behavior. That is until one night after being beaten for not "finishing tilling and weeding the garden" even though she had, and then got her gardening shovel tossed into the woods and locked out of the house. Despite living with this behavior her whole life she knew it was not normal and as she walked into the woods to find her shovel bleeding slightly, she grumbled about her bad luck loud enough to draw the attention of a demon who lived in a small mansion not to far into the forest who upon finding her picked her up and carried her off back to the mansion. Eventually after being carried around the mansion she was set down as the one who had taken her argued her fate with two others who were living with him, instead of running however she patiently waited on the floor, only cutting in to asked them if there was anywhere she could wash herself off so she wouldn't be all gross covered in sweat and dirt and if they could hurry up their argument before anyone noticed she was gone. This request understandably shocked the three demons enough to pause their argument going completely silent mid-way through their respective sentences and turn to give her the "what the fuck" look in unison. When the one who's name she heard to be Kyogai asked her if she was going to try to escape her response was "hmm let me think, go back to my already horrible life and delay the inevitable or die like i have been wanting to for the last ten years? Yeah i think I'm going to stay" thus prompting the question "what the hell??" from all three, her response was "Well the way I see it if I do leave right now my life is going to go either one of three ways, one get beaten to death by either my ungrateful father or even less grateful future husband at some point in time like three of my sisters, get worked to death by either my father or my future husband like my mother and two of my sisters, or be married off for money in three years to someone who cant be bothered to even learn my name, survive maybe another fifty years of abuse and constant stress only to die of something stupid in my sixties and probably be left to rot in the garden like a rat after being defiled one last time either way, at-least if i die here i will die to people who are gentlemen in comparison and are at-least grateful to have me as a meal", causing all three of them to just stare at her before Kyogai informs her that the wash room is just down the hall and asking to speak with the other two alone.

As soon as she entered the wash room, the three went back to deciding her fate but now instead of figuring out who would eat her they were instead trying to figure out a way to keep her around without sending her home as they all agreed they would feel bad hurting her but even worse sending her back, at first thinking to keep her as a sort of pet but eventually coming up with the idea to get her turned into a demon. Upon going to knock on the wash room door to let her know what they decided; the largest one heard her siren like voice starting to sing "Itsumo nando demo/ Always with me" as she washed herself and went to get the others to come listen saying "you two have to hear this" and they quickly found themselves listening to her through the door until song was over. Once she was out, she first received the first genuine complements about her voice and in general she had received in her life and then was told that she was not going to die but she was not going to be sent home either and that instead they were going to keep her and see if she could become like them. After reading Kyogai's mind for about a week and deciding to see what the big deal was, Muzan payed them a visit and after watching her for a while he turned her into a demon after she had fallen asleep. The next time she woke up she found her hair had turned white, her eyes had turned bright purple, her teeth and nails had become sharp and pointed, she had sprouted a pair of white wings on her back and small patches of small white downy feathers over her body. This both surprised and relieved her three housemates when they found her as she attempted to flutter around the room she had been sleeping in.

As a demon she stalked the night hunting down anyone in the nearby towns who dared to abuse their spouses/future spouses or children in any way. Years into the future she was the only in the mansion left alive because she had been sleeping quietly in the only room that was left unchecked. She found her roommates remains and put on their clothing as a way to keep them with her. When Tsuki came looking visit with them not long after they died while on her way to visit the spider family, Nijiko was the only one tsuki found and had to be the one to explain what happened, not long afterwards she was picked up by Usagi-sama and taken to live in the mountain. She developed the ability to mimic peoples voices and various other noises as well as self harmonize at a young age since she spent so much time with the crows. She tends to avoid the kamaboko squad with the exception of nezuko, the few times they do visit the mountain, but if they do cross her path the most they will get out of her is a glare and an annoyed huff, which confused them until they noticed just who's clothes she was wearing, so if they ever want to say anything to her or she wants to say anything to them (she usually doesn't start a conversation) either Tsuki or one of the crows will have to act as the messenger between them.

When she was younger she would occasionally hear songs and shows from other countries from people who had been traveling to different places around the world, and even after she became a demon she would occasionally go into the towns and hear new ones that she would come home singing. The Kasugai Crows that she raised all have a habit of referring to her as their mother though the only one left is Giyuu's crow and she could tell the differences between all of them, funnily enough the parents of both Tanjiro and Inosuke's crows are part of this group as some of her last hatchlings. Most of the current Hashira's crows are the children of her little hatchlings with the exception of Giyuu's who was one of hers when she was a human and she is very proud if them. If she ever feels like it she can and will give herself a beak, but she usually doesn't. She is rather fond of kids, so had she gotten woken up that day when her roommates got killed; she would have been very nice to the younger siblings of the kid who got taken, helped them go look for him and she would have been very cross with the guys especially kyogai as he was the one who did the kidnapping and scolded them while shoo-ing the kids (tanjiro, zenitsu and inosuke included) out of the house with a broom and then upon figuring out why what happened happened she would've comforted kyogai and reminded him that he doesn't need to prove himself to anyone and told them that dinner was on her once the sun set. Like she walks in on tanjiro and kyogai's fight just before the beheading dragging her other two roommates by the ear with one hand and dragging inosuke and zenitsu by the ear with the other with the kids following behind giggling and pulls a "if you two don't stop fighting right now I SWEAR" stopping the fight in its tracks because none of her roommates have ever heard her that mad before and the last time any of them heard that specific tone of voice was when their respective mothers were scolding someone and know that it is a tone to be feared, being like "Kyogai I need to have a word with you and these two privately" "But Niji -" "Don't you ""But Niji"" me" as she is just herding the humans out of the house. She and Kyogai are essentially the adults/parents of the house but she is most definitely the mom of the entire group. She occasionally perches on the shoulders of her more sturdy roommates like an actual crow. She definitely has crow brain and will bring home any random shiny or interesting objects she finds while she is out running around and occasionally "gift" whatever it is to her roommates. Since becoming a demon she has also learned to mimic voices she has heard atleast twice and has learned to throw her voice in unison with the siren song ability. She LOVES pranking people especially the kamaboko squad. She hates to admit it but she has grown rather fond of zenitsu specifically.

Abilities:

Blood demon art: siren song and siren song self harmonize: this allows her to use her voice as a sort of hypnosis but with self harmonize it sounds like there are multiple voices in a perfect harmony and makes the hypnosis stronger. (This would probably really freak zenitsu out) (since the deaths of her roommates the extra voices during self-harmonize sound like their voices so she feels like they are still there)

Blood demon art: dazzling dance: this speeds her up and distracts her opponent, its basically dance fighting but with the way her hair and feathers work, the light reflecting different colors off of them would distract her opponent.

Blood demon art: flying feathers: this allows her to summon her lost feathers as projectile weapons that will scratch her opponent enough to bleed

Blood demon art: fire flight: with this she flys up into the air sets herself on fire and aerial dives at her opponent as a sort of kamikaze attack.

Blood demon art: crow form: after a while of hanging out with asaki, kiki and tsubaki she learns this blood demon art which allows her to turn into a white crow with the same color refracting effect that her normal forms hair and feathers do

Could/Does get along with:

Canon: Haunted Mansion Trio, Spider fam, Kamanue, Mukago, Rokuro, Enmu, Gyutaro, Daki, Akaza, Nakime, Nezuko, Tamayo, Mitsuri, Rengoku, Zenitsu

O.C's: Tsuki, Asaki, Kimi, Kiki, Usagi, Maka, Mine, Kuroko, Tsubaki, Rin, Takara

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