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#one might think that his fight for humanity would be conditioned by this
reginrokkr · 1 month
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𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈. Birth of a thought made manifest in human flesh —Dáinsleif's origins—.
◜The Winged One's regret or remorse gave birth to a thought, and as he imagined the path that could have been taken, a new soul was born.◞
As a result of the war waged against the Second Who Came, Nibelung and the ensuing chaos with the leaking Forbidden Knowledge that had to be subdued lest the world was plunged into darkness, thus left with no chances for survival, Phanes' functions were ruined and could no longer use their absolute authority to suppress the original order of this world. In combination with his severely wounded state, the Usurper glimpsed into the wrongs of his deeds and the ones bound to come after if he were to be deteriorated further due to the influence of the Forbidden Knowledge, the loathing and resentments of the world or other forces that could take advantage of his weakened state.
He who loved his human creations more than anyone, and He who cursed the gods to come after to love humans saw himself mired in hypocrisy the moment his creations were at disadvantage the most and were kept in the highest regard no longer due to his own decisions' and that of his closest circle, who should follow his will. Thus in a moment of weakness and lucidity, his regret gave birth to a thought— to a what if. What if things were different, what if his initial desire continued without struggling against the vicissitudes and personal agendas, what if he was stronger to not let himself be corrupted to this point of apparent no return.
What if he could undo everything that made his sacred plans evil.
From these last thoughts was Dáinsleif born as a soul, nurtured in a seed in Irminsul's benevolent aura out of its kindness and will for the world to cease fighting against its own natural orders and to diminish the loathing and resentments of the world that the Primordial One has caused. One day of the countless moons this seed basked under the moonlight and Irminsul's might, he was born in the material world in Celestia as a human, a manifestation of the origins never known by others of Phanes' closest circle until divine's eyes fell upon him. Unrest was among them, yet only muted at the knowledge that they could do with him as they pleased. So repeating the cycle of a once heiress of Celestia that failed in her task to retrieve the Pearl of Genesis and believed herself to be the queen of the kingdom of darkness, Dáinsleif was sent there with the intent to erase his memories of any ties he could have to Celestia.
Thus he would have no connection with the divine, nor his actions would suppose betrayal to any— for it is them who betrayed them first, abandoned him to his fortune. Unbeknownst to them, he who they abandoned would be the one to silence the source of all sins in the deepest abyss and undo the wrongs that began with the greatest Usurper, as well as reweaving all threads of fate.
It would all begin in Khaenri'ah, where Dáinsleif has drifted with a mission he recalls no more, and where he would mature his views of the world, limited at the time as they may be. His love for humanity and pursuit to defend them limitless as the Primordial Sea from where all life is born, even if his personal beliefs about the laws set in the kingdom and its deeds may differ drastically from what it would be expected of anyone who arrives to the kingdom established along the roots of Irminsul.
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shiplessoceans · 8 months
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Good Omens S2 Episode 6 confession scene speculation:
Aziraphale didn't respond to the love confession from Crowley because he didn't realise it was one until Crowley mentioned the Nightingale and kissed him.
Allow me to explain.
---
Aziraphale interrupted Crowley to give him the news from Metatron, so when Crowley starts his spiel:
"We've been together a long time, I could always rely on you...we're a group....we've spent our existence pretending we aren't...if Gabriel and Beelzebub can go off together then we can...we don't need heaven/hell they're toxic...you and me whatya say?"
Aziraphale interprets everything Crowley is saying as his rebuttal to the 'good news', not a separate declaration of his feelings.
What Aziraphale just told him shaped Crowley's confession, instead of finally telling Aziraphale how he feels about him, he's now backed into a corner and trying to change Aziraphales mind. Offering to run off with him as the alternative to the Metatron's offer.
The repetition of the phrase: "go off together" from the bandstand fight in season one feels very intentional here. It would be easy for Aziraphale to think 'this is just Crowley's response when the divine plan interferes, he always wants to run away'.
Aziraphale believes that he just needs to make Crowley understand the situation and opportunity that this is and everything will be alright:
"Come with me! To heaven, I can run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference!"
Crowley is looking defeated already, in his mind he's bared his soul and Aziraphale is a brick wall. So if he can't tempt the angel into staying with the love he has for him (which Crowley thinks he's declared but he really hasn't), he'll get him to change his mind by evoking something else he loves:
"You can't leave this bookshop."
Aziraphale scoffs fondly. 'Silly demon, you were just suggesting we run off together and abandon it only a moment ago!' He thinks Crowley is trying to 'work' him here and the old serpent might even be selflessly trying to spare the angel the loss of his beloved bookshop in order to restore Crowley and help the world, which would be just like him to be so covertly protective. So Aziraphale reassures him, a bookshop doesn't matter to him as much as Crowley and the world. It's just a collection of objects really. Humanity is more important. Crowley is far more important.
"Oh Crowley, nothing lasts forever."
Crowley is crushed. Nothing lasts forever. Not even the two of them. So he covers his sadness with his glasses, walls back up, and he tries to leave.
Aziraphale is baffled. He just reassured Crowley that he was alright with change if it means things could be better. Why is Crowley leaving? Is he worried that they won't spend time together anymore? That he won't have time for his friend as a supreme archangel?
"Crowley come back!....we can be together, angels!...I need you!"
Crowley can't even look at him in that moment. Why would Aziraphale say that? The two of them together only if he accepts heaven again? Conditional love? That's not fair. It hurts.
Aziraphale meanwhile is hurt by Crowley's turning away, his silence and a bit incensed at what he perceives as ingratitude. Aziraphale didn't really want to go back to heaven, but he'd do it if it meant Crowley could be happy and safe and Crowley doesn't seem to appreciate that:
"I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."
Crowley went through the fall. He asked the questions. Did his best to protect humanity and it has brought him nothing but suffering. He's well aware what's on offer. He's seen heavens cruelty and capriciousness firsthand and been burned by it repeatedly. How can Aziraphale choose them over him and still think everything will work out?
"I understand. I think I understand a whole lot better than you do."
Crowley loves Aziraphale's big foolish optimism and kind heart and he thinks it's the very thing taking the angel away from him. This isn't how it was supposed to go. It's all slipping away from him.
"Listen. You hear that?"
Aziraphale can't even keep up at this point.
This is what comes of thousands of years of 'not talking about it' and living under threat of holy retribution if they are discovered. They're talking past each other, having two different conversations. Obfuscation and code has become their communication medium by necessity and it's failing them.
It's frustrating Aziraphale that he can't get a grip on this conversation:
"I don't hear anything!"
And Crowley drops the bomb.
"That's the point. No Nightingale's."
Oh. Suddenly we're on the same page. You can see from Aziraphale's face that he understands to what Crowley's referring. The Nightingale in Berkely square. Angels dining at the Ritz...
"You idiot! We could have been... us."
Crowley's talking about the big unspoken thing between them. Their relationship, thousands of years of dancing around each other like binary stars gravitationally and inexorably drawn together over and over. The thing Aziraphale was beginning to be bold about, (dancing notwithstanding) before Metatron came along and distracted him.
And it seems to Aziraphale that gut-wrenchingly, Crowley is finally acknowledging their mutual love only to point out that it's gone. Lost. They could have finally been together, an us, but Aziraphale ruined it because he's an 'idiot'.
After being quietly in love with Crowley for years, for Aziraphale to have his offer to return to heaven together and his unspoken love rejected in one fell swoop is devastating.
Overcome, he begins to cry and turns away, not wanting Crowley to see how hurt he is.
Crowley for his part is desperate. He has to do something. Maybe Aziraphale doesn't understand what Crowley is offering him! One fabulous kiss and va-voom right?
In a final desperate act, he kisses Aziraphale. Tries for passionate. Tries to show him that he loves him and show him what they could be because his words clearly aren't working.
Aziraphale is shocked and angry. He wants to kiss Crowley of course. But not like this. Not as a taunt. Crowley just told him their chance is over so what else could this be but a final insult. A kiss to punish the angel. It's a cruelty he didn't believe Crowley capable of.
And despite how mean it is. It's also what Aziraphale has wanted for so long he can't help but melt into it for a brief moment. Allow himself to feel what it would have been like to be that close before losing it forever.
Then Crowley lets go and Aziraphale breaks away on a sob, feeling wounded. Hurt beyond words that Crowley would use his feelings against him like this, gutted to be losing the man he loves and not understanding why.
The worst part is that Aziraphale doesn't have it in him to hate Crowley, even if he thinks the kiss was a cruel gesture. He still loves him. So he gathers himself and does what Aziraphale does when someone hurts him.
He forgives.
"I forgive you."
I forgive you for rejecting my attempt to restore you and make you happy, I forgive you for rejecting God and heaven yet again, I forgive you for acknowledging our love and then rejecting it. I forgive you for kissing me, giving me a fleeting glimpse of what we could have been to each other. I love you and I forgive you all that.
Crowley is done. Breath knocked out of him on a last sigh. He tried. And the Angel forgave him yet again for something he never asked or wanted forgiveness for. He doesn't want to be penitent for loving Aziraphale. Shouldn't have to apologise or regret wanting them to be together.
"Don't bother."
Aziraphale looks surprised Crowley is leaving because he genuinely is. He can't understand how it's all gone so horribly wrong. He gasps, shocked and can't even call out to him to stop, come back.
He cries, touches his lips where Crowley had kissed him. Tries to gather himself and barely has 10 seconds before Metatron is back.
At the end of that scene:
Crowley thinks he confessed his love and Aziraphale chose heaven over him because he didn't want to stop being a demon.
Aziraphale thinks Crowley rejected heaven, then rejected Aziraphale and threw their love back in his face as a final unkindness.
Aziraphale leaves and goes to heaven anyway because in his mind he's already lost Crowley and there is nothing left to stay for. If he doesn't have Crowley he needs a new purpose and it's going to be saving the world. He'll convince himself of it. And he'll push that broken heart down and the pain will fade if he just smiles through it. It will be enough, to make heaven better. It has to be. Maybe if he proves that he can make a difference Crowley might see the error of his ways and speak to him again? Surely. Hopefully.
---
Both of them are hurt and confused and lost and oh dear hell I really feel for them.
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purple-babygirl · 10 days
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in the far corner of the forest IV
Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader
Word Count: 6,540
Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.
Warnings: mentions of hand injury, idiots in love, feels, jealousy, racism against orcs, angry behaviour, shouting, fight gets slightly physical, bruised arm, crying, angst (i'm sorry). I think that's all.
A/N: good news result in long chapters. thank you from the bottom of my heart for everyone who has wished me good luck with my interview, you guys are angels. please enjoyxx💜💜
~
“You’re in love.”
“I’m what now!?” Bucky chuckled dismissively as he dropped his axe.
Bucky had spent half a day at home, refraining from going to work because of his hand’s condition, but as much as he loved staying home with her, he knew he wasn’t made to take a break.
So he thought he would visit, talk to Sam for a bit and maybe get some pent up ‘feelings’ out on some tree logs. His metal arm was still working just fine after all.
“I said, you’re in love with your human wife,” Sam repeated, smiling so warmly that Bucky wanted to smack him.
“I got her a few weeks ago.” Bucky shook his head in denial of the mere idea of him falling for anyone, let alone a human.
He did love Sam and Sarah, but that was it. They were the only humans he could tolerate. He hated the rest of them. Hell, he hated the human half of himself.
Bucky was just trying to make life easier for himself, that was all. He has been through enough conflicts and he didn’t need this in his marriage too. He deserved to live a normal life like everybody else.
Yes, he was courting her, and maybe he did constantly crave the feel of her body against his ever since she let him hug her the night of the injury, and he was definitely getting hopeful now that she hadn’t tried to run for a whole half day, but that didn’t mean he was in love! Did it?
“And now you’re in love with her.” Sam smirked, knowing how much it drove Bucky crazy that a female human had him on his knees for her love.
“Quit saying that!” Bucky stood up, ready to walk away from his annoying friend.
“Why does it make you so angry that you’re in lo—”
“Don’t,” Bucky warned him, eyes angry and glaring.
“—ve?”
“I am not in love with her, okay! She’s human! Plus, that girl drives me crazy! Do you know how many times I had to bring her back after she’d tried to run in the first two weeks? Five fucking times! That’s almost once every two days, Sam. And she only had one foot working!” Bucky ranted heatedly, desperate to negate his best friend’s theory.
Was he in love with her? And if Sam could see it, did that mean she could too?
“Well, why do you care to bring her back? Why not just let her run?” Sam shrugged, internally dying for Bucky to acknowledge his feelings.
“She could die out there! Humans are weak.”
“So?” Sam probed, intentionally ignoring Bucky’s remark about humans’ strength.
“So— so I signed all those things when she was offered to me. She can’t— I can’t—”
“You can’t?”
“I can’t let her get hurt,” Bucky admitted lowly, sitting down on a log with a loud sigh.
“Why does that make you so upset?” Sam dug deeper.
“Because I think you’re right. I think I might be in love with her.” Bucky rubbed his eye with his good hand, pushing his hair back angrily.
“And?”
“And she thinks I’m the devil.” Bucky’s face fell to his palms.
“Did she ever say that to you out loud?” Sam asked, touching the end of his sharpened blade.
“She doesn’t need to, Sam. I see it in her eyes every time I find her after she’d tried to run away.” Bucky’s voice was broken like his friend has never heard before.
“I thought you said everything was better after your injury?”
“Yeah, but that’s not gonna last forever.” Bucky gave a sad grin, “she’s soon gonna go back to seeing me the same as before.”
“Well, it’s up to you to change her mind, Buck.” Sam patted his friend’s shoulder, giving a squeeze.
Bucky sighed once more before getting up.
Sam was a human. A very handsome one with much less scars and non-icy skin. He would never understand. It would never work. She hated him.
He could continue trying, but it wouldn’t change anything of the way she felt about him and their marriage. She had told him time and time again how she felt about both.
“Going home already?”
“Yeah, I can’t miss the running away bit. It’s my favourite,” he sighed, Sam's laugh trailing behind him.
“Smile at her for a change.”
“Shut up.” I do smile at her. I only ever smile at her.
“Sarah loved the jam by the way!” Sam yelled.
“I’ll let her know!” Bucky yelled back before exhaling sadly.
Sam would never understand. Her taking pity on him those past couple of hours was nothing more than sympathy and likely even guilt.
Sam would never understand that of all the eyes in the world, it seems like Bucky has managed to fall for the only ones that knew how to hurt him, the eyes that would only look at him as a disgusting, frightening monster.
~
When Bucky got home, everything was creepily in place. His door was closed like he had left it and he actually had to use his key to open it for the first time in a while.
Stepping inside, the warm smell of roast chicken welcomed him back.
The house was warm because all the windows were actually shut, too. It was all so calm and homely; the orc was seriously worried.
And then he heard it: his human wife’s sweet voice, humming the melody of a song unfamiliar to him. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.
Bucky carefully shut the door behind him, not wanting her peaceful mood to end so soon as he tried to take lighter steps to where she was.
Much to his dismay though, she needed something from the other side of the kitchen and when she turned around she saw Bucky and gasped, jumping embarrassingly high.
“You scared me!” She whined, holding a hand to her heart.
“Sorry.” Bucky smirked, entertained by how cute she looked when startled.
“Welcome home,” she mumbled with a bit-back grin, holding onto his forearms before getting on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Bucky’s cheek.
She never told him, but she was unbelievably thankful when he didn’t specify which type of kiss he expected weeks ago, and even more thankful when he didn’t object to her pecking his cheek before burying herself under the covers.
Life with Bucky has gotten undeniably familiar lately and leaving him was all of a sudden an idea that didn’t interest her as much as before.
Everything he was saying and doing has brought her closer to him without her even comprehending it.
As the days passed, she had realized running away was too exhausting, too risky, and for what? It wasn’t like she had a home to run to or a treasure buried somewhere or a lover worth escaping her orc for.
Her orc.
Hers.
A word she never felt the meaning of until the day Bucky made her his wife.
Bucky was the first and only one to present to her a taste of something she has never had: the feeling of exclusively owning things.
The smile that graced her face when she brushed her hair the first time with the brush Bucky got her was new and unprecedented.
Her brush, he called it.
Her shoes. Her chair. Her towel. Her clothes. Her books. Her side of the bed. Her cottage. Her kitchen.
And her husband.
Everything was brand new and completely hers.
Nothing was handed down to her, nothing was used before the minute her fingers had touched it. None of the things Bucky gifted her had previous owners, including him and his heart.
Most importantly, she didn’t have to share any of it with anybody.
“You’re home,” Bucky said, a surprised yet very happy smile lighting up his handsome features.
“I thought the wife was supposed to say that,” she replied playfully, going back to the bubbling pot.
Bucky raised his eyebrows at the good mood she seemed to be in. He was liking this.
He watched her sprinkle some black pepper into the soup as he came behind her.
She could feel the heat of his body surrounding her even when they weren’t touching and it had her heartbeat going crazy.
“Thank you, little human,” Bucky whispered, before he leaned down and pecked her cheek as well, his stubble and blunt tusks tickling her jaw.
She felt her whole body jolt with electricity at the simple graze of his lips and tusks on her skin as she closed her eyes.
Bucky left the kitchen and went to the bathroom but she was still hot as if his warmth never left her.
And when she opened her eyes and absentmindedly reached her fingertips to touch her cheek, she found herself smiling too.
What was happening to her? What was this foreign feeling lifting her off of her feet in the middle of the kitchen?
“Sam’s sister loved your strawberry jam by the way!” Bucky shouted to her from the bathroom, making her jump again before smiling to herself.
He didn’t use Sarah’s name on purpose, not wanting to ruin her happy mood as he had noticed how angry she got every time he would say it.
“I’ll make her more tomorrow!” She replied with a grin, proud of her hand’s work, her jealousy long forgotten after Bucky’s words of the night before.
After all, how could she be jealous when she was the one that Bucky was looking at like that?
~
When she finished setting up the table and Bucky didn’t come out of the bathroom, she got a little worried.
He never took too long during his showers, and now that he only had one arm to use, she thought he would cut his showers even shorter.
What if his wound was bleeding again and he didn’t want to tell her and was trying to fix it by himself inside the bathroom? She knew she should have stopped him from going to the yard!
“Bucky.” She knocked on the door softly, wanting to make sure he was okay.
“Yes, little human?” Bucky instantly opened the door for her.
And he looked like a dream.
Steam has surrounded him inside the bathroom, water drops from his still-wet hair dripping down his muscular, bare chest and for the first time since Bucky has been naked around her, she found herself looking at him. Actually looking.
Bucky’s chest was so broad, beefy and ribbed down to his abdomen. Scars of all sizes and shapes littered the beautiful, icy greyish skin, a reminder of the battles he had fought and all the sacrifices he had made.
Her heart clenched at the sight, a pang of sympathy coursing through her as she could only imagine the pain he must have had to endure.
Still, she found her hands tingling in curiosity, desperate to know what tracing the healed skin would feel like under her fingertips.
Bucky was a sight for sore eyes, a sight that both captivated and unnerved her, stirring a flurry of unfamiliar emotions in her chest that she struggled to contain.
She averted her gaze, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her at the unexpected intimacy of the moment.
“Are—” she chocked, her voice barely above a whisper as she coughed it out, “are you okay? You took a while.”
“Yeah, I’m just having a hard time drying up my hair with one arm,” Bucky reassured her, chuckling lightly at his dilemma as he let the towel around his neck drop.
He was completely oblivious to the way he just made her face burn up as her thoughts spiraled out of control.
“Come.” She took Bucky’s hand in hers, careful not to squeeze his palm, and led him outside to their bed.
It took Bucky a second to move his feet, but when he did, he felt like he was being carried on top of a cloud.
She felt herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t quite explain, her heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness, curiosity and… desire. A new sensation was tingling all over her body, specifically in places she didn’t need to be tingling right now.
Positioning herself between his parted legs, she reached to take the towel from around Bucky’s neck.
His eyes watched her, surprise flickering in them as he realized what she was going to do, unable to believe what was happening.
Sensing her nervousness, Bucky offered her a reassuring, grateful smile, silently encouraging her to continue.
And as she began to carefully pat his damp hair dry, her touch tentative and her eyes focused, he felt warmth welling up inside him.
She couldn’t help but steal glances at his bare shoulder and chest, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the engrossing sight. It was a feeling unlike anything she has ever experienced before, her heart racing with unparalleled excitement.
The awkwardness of the situation began to fade bit by bit as she focused more on the task at hand, in its place growing an overwhelming sense of closeness and familiarity.
Bucky’s hair was so soft under her fingertips as she took the towel up and down the brown locks. She wished she had given herself a chance to touch it more before.
As she finished drying her orc’s hair, she met his gaze with a shy bite of her lip, her eyes sparkling with newfound confidence.
Bucky reached out to take her hands, his smile appreciative as his lips pressed a deep kiss on each palm, silently thanking her for her kindness and care.
~
“I didn’t know your cooking was so good. You surprise me every day,” Bucky praised, as she filled his mouth with more lentil soup, trying not to think of his conversation with Sam or the way his body was still on fire from the mere act of her drying his hair for him.
He couldn’t even believe she was feeding him after seeing him struggle to keep the food on his spoon using his left hand.
“All the girls at the orphanage know how to cook. They teach us all sorts of things and make us to be good housewives,” she replied, suddenly nostalgic of her days at the orphanage, curious to know how, where and when Bucky got the chance to see her back then.
Bucky didn’t say anything, busying his mouth with chewing some bread as his smile shrank.
She didn’t look happy. Why did she stay then? Was she planning on running away at night that day? Maybe she put something in the food?
“I’m glad you like your dinner though,” she said, breaking the thick silence with a soft smile as she fed the orc a piece of chicken.
“Why didn’t you try to leave today?” Bucky couldn’t hold back.
She was taken aback by his question. She thought he wanted her here.
Was he finally done? Did he want her out? Was he not going to look for her this time? Has Bucky given up on her? Was he going to leave her be had she gotten out today?
Most importantly, she didn’t know how to answer because it seemed like she was done running away from her new life with him, and she didn’t know if she could admit that.
“I– did you want me to?” She asked, her voice strained as she tried to hold in the tears.
“No! No, of course not!” He assured her quickly.
“Then?” She chewed on her lip.
“I don’t want you to stop running if it makes you feel alive,” Bucky told her, his blue eyes gushing with love he didn’t intend to show, “I’m willing to go to the ends of the earth to find you.”
“What?” She wasn’t expecting this at all, all the tingles she had hardly managed to shake off after drying Bucky’s wet hair coming back to attack her.
How were these words coming out of an orc! And why did they make her heart stutter in its beats?
“I love your fiery spirit and I’m afraid I’m killing it by keeping you here against your wishes. I never want to be the one to snuff your fire out.” Bucky admitted, eyes sincere as he watched her.
She just stared at him for a moment, stunned as her heart skipped yet another beat.
If he only knew that he was the one who had managed to bring this fiery personality to life.
Bucky respected her silence and went back to enjoying his dinner, not wanting to push her for a reply. She could take her time.
She kept staring at him in confusion for another minute before taking her almost untouched plate and getting up.
She almost ran to the kitchen with her hand on her heart.
What was going on with her? Her heart wasn’t seriously beating this loud for the orc. Could it be?
He sounded so selfless and spoke so gently like he has never before and she was overwhelmed.
His words were doing things to her that she has never felt before. What was wrong with her?
She knew she had caught herself staring at him without a shirt just minutes ago, maybe admiring his eyelashes as he slept in some early mornings, but she rendered it curiosity and nothing more.
She shook her head, her thoughts startling to her as she emptied her plate in the garbage and started washing it vigorously.
Bucky no longer had an appetite, sighing at her reaction.
He told himself he could understand, but it was still hurtful the way she jumped out of her chair.
He left his plate on the table, not wanting to invade her privacy by going to the kitchen before leaving the cottage altogether.
He probably shouldn’t have said anything.
~
She revisited the subject the same afternoon though, not wanting there to be any misunderstandings between her and Bucky. Not any longer.
“I don’t wanna leave anymore,” she admitted timidly, making Bucky’s smile betray him and his usual frowning.
“But I don’t like being locked away in here all day either,” she said carefully, scared to upset him.
“Where do you wanna go? The forest is dangerous, little human.” Bucky was back to frowning at the thought of anything bad happening to her again.
It was torture for him when her foot was still healing and he was the most relieved when it finally did. He couldn’t just let her roam around when she didn’t know the area.
“Take me out when you come back from work maybe? Or even on your day off,” she suggested, desperate to see the world.
“And go where?”
“Anywhere. We can walk around the woods before it gets dark, you could show me your shop, I could meet Sam? Or we could even go to the market!” She suggested eagerly.
She has been locked up for so long and she didn’t want to continue her life like this.
Bucky actually thought about it and he didn’t hate the idea. Taking her out with him would ensure her safety. He would be by her side and he would protect her. He also liked the thought of taking her out and properly courting her even if she didn’t know that that was what he was doing.
He said he didn’t want to kill her spirit by keeping her in here and she gave him the solution.
“Okay.” Bucky nodded at her with a smile.
“Okay?” She exclaimed happily, not believing Bucky would actually take her out to see around.
“Okay.” He nodded again reassuringly, her happiness making him laugh.
“Well, don’t you have tomorrow off?” She asked suggestively, gesturing to his hand.
Bucky laughed, nodding, “put your shoes on.”
“Thank you, Bucky.” She involuntarily gave his healing hand a squeeze, kissing his cheek before running to get her shoes.
Bucky swallowed hard, hoping he would be able to hold himself together and not completely melt under her sweet company.
“You’ve got to promise me though,” he said.
She looked at him questioningly as she slipped one foot into a shoe.
“No running away, little human.”
“No running away. Promise.” She promised, shaking her head with a shy smile.
Bucky smiled big, taking her smaller hand in his as she grabbed her basket in the other, ready to browse the market with her husband.
Her husband. That was starting to sound unquestionably comforting.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
“What?” She tilted her head with a grin.
“You owe me a kiss,” Bucky said, his tone serious.
“No, I don’t! If anything, I just gave you an extra kiss!”
“Yes, you do. From that morning. You’re still one kiss behind!”
“I just made up for it!”
“Doesn’t count. That one covers the night before.” Bucky shrugged, a smile etched on his lips.
“Okay, fine.” She kissed Bucky’s cheek, “stop going around saying other girls’ names though.”
Bucky laughed, “I only know one!”
“Still too many,” she whispered under her breath, but Bucky heard it, smiling from ear to ear as he took his hand in hers, taking the right path out of the woods. ~ It was a beautiful afternoon, full of warm sunshine and fruitful deals. She has got some pretty good stuff for really good prices.
She couldn’t believe Bucky actually gave her pocket money.
He didn’t want her to have to ask him for money every time something caught her eye. He wanted her independent, fulfilled and brave as she bought herself whatever her heart desired.
Her heart was so full and her smile was inerasable.
Bucky didn’t let go of her hand all day and she actually liked it so much that she never complained. The feel of his calloused skin against her soft palm wasn’t like anything she has felt before.
She didn’t want to let go of his hand even while looking at the different stands and booths at the market.
But she eventually liked the flower stand too much and told Bucky she would take a look at them while he continued buying them the fruits he was picking.
“Good afteroon,” a smooth voice interrupted her admiration of the potted plants before her, making her look up for a second.
“Good afternoon.” She smiled coyly.
“Any favorites?” The handsome man inside the booth asked her.
“All of them,” she giggled softly, the sound catching Bucky’s ears at once.
The man laughed back, “okay, I think I have something special for you. How about this one?” He brought her a purple flower from the batch hidden behind him inside the booth.
“Oh, how beautiful! What is this one?” She wondered, amazement sparkling in her eyes at the sight of the pretty petals.
“That is a Globemaster Allium. Pretty, isn’t she?” He asked, staring at her desirously as she looked at the flower.
“Yes, she’s stunning!”
“I’m Cole by the way—”
She heard Bucky clear his throat next to her and looked up at once, the innocent awe in her eyes softening the orc a little.
“Look, Bucky! Isn’t this the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” She pointed to the flower pot excitedly.
Bucky leaned in, his frown scaring her a little, her breath hitching when his lips tickled the shell of her ear, “no, little human, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
She chocked on her own saliva, hiding her hot face with her hand as she coughed, “Bucky!” She whined with a shy smile.
Where did that come from!
“Let’s go,” Bucky said with a nod of his head, eyes stern as he glared at Cole.
“Can—” She held his wrist, “can I have it?” She asked softly, gesturing to the flower pot.
Bucky wanted to say no. He didn’t want her to have this farmer’s flower. But he couldn’t say no to those hopeful, beautiful eyes of hers.
“Fine.” He watched her get the money out of her pocket and she smiled gratefully as she almost set them down on Cole’s counter.
“It’s on the house,” Cole said, still smiling dreamily at her.
She could all but swallow as she gave a polite smile back before looking up at Bucky for help.
“Take your goddamn money.” Bucky made a quick job of paying for the flower, taking the money from her and slamming it on the counter, making the whole booth shake.
He quickly took his wife home, deciding that was enough socialization for the both of them for the day.
She wasn’t going to lie, she was loving jealousy on her orc. It felt so intoxicating to have someone love her so much that he was jealous of other men talking to her.
She wouldn’t tell Bucky, but she would probably spend the nights of the next week smiling at the wall every time she remembered how he held her hand back home just a little bit tighter that day.
Her own heart was running wild at the sight of the orc now and she didn’t want it any other way.
~
“Now you know how it feels,” she teased with a smile as they were getting ready for bed.
Bucky couldn’t let it go, talking about how they were never going to stop by that farmer’s flower booth ever again.
“That’s not the same! I was never into Sarah! But that man was openly ogling you!” Bucky grumbled, his frown digging deep into the skin of his forehead.
“He was just being nice, trying to sell his flowers,” she laughed, upsetting Bucky even more.
How couldn’t she see it? The guy was all over her!
“He was flirting and you were all giggles and blushes.” Bucky copied her, going to the bed and burying himself under the covers, facing the wall.
He understood now why she had done that.
“Hey, that’s my spot!” She joked, not knowing if Bucky was being serious.
“Not tonight,” he murmured from underneath the covers.
“Bucky,” she whined, uncovering her orc’s face.
Bucky didn’t reply, pushing himself closer to the wall.
She tried to bring him on his back by the shoulder like he so easily did her a couple of night ago, but he was too strong for her and his body wouldn’t budge.
She huffed, “okay, you left me no choice.”
Bucky remained still, wanting to see what she meant by that as he felt her shift behind him.
Before he knew it, she was on top of his bicep, trying to slot herself between his body and the wall.
“What on earth—”
“You started it, Bucky!” She said, voice determined as she kept pushing, trying to squeeze herself in the small space accessible.
Bucky looked at her in amusement for a second before moving back, making her body drop as larger space became available.
She landed with the tiniest “ouff” on the mattress, facing Bucky on her side with her back to the wall, its coolness helping soothe the heat rising to the surface of her skin.
That was the closest she had been to Bucky since their hug the night of his injury, face to face as his passionate sapphire eyes watched hers.
“Hi,” she whispered, heart in her throat.
“Hi,” Bucky replied with a charming smile, smoothing some of her ruffled strands back in place.
She stared at the orc’s eyes, not the slightest bit scared of the fact that she was trapped against the wall by his huge body.
“You’re not the only one who wants to be loyal to this marriage, Bucky,” she said, surprising Bucky and herself, “I don’t want the farmer. I don’t want anyone else.” but you.
Bucky smiled in disbelief, taken aback by her words, and she took it as permission to move closer to his chest. He instinctively wrapped her up in a protective hug, wondering how he was able to hold himself back from kissing her.
She pushed her face into her orc’s chest, his scent and warmth engulfing her into a protective bubble.
She couldn’t believe she said the words she has just said and it made her bury her burning face deeper in Bucky’s arms.
He could only hug her tighter, his nose in her sweet-smelling hair as his smile grew bigger.
This moment right there was everything Bucky has ever wished for. He could die a happy orc right then and there.
~
It became a habit for them to go out to the village on Bucky’s day off. They were both having a great time, getting closer and falling harder.
Cole hasn’t spoken to her again after learning that the snow orc was actually her husband, and she respected Bucky’s feelings and never approached Cole’s booth no matter how pretty the plants on his stand were.
Market outings were their thing now and she wasn’t going to let anything ruin that.
She didn’t want anyone else’s attention but Bucky’s anyway. His hand has almost fully healed and she could now squeeze it all she wanted whenever she got excited about anything they encountered.
One thing did occur that annoyed her though and that was the way the jewelry lady would look at her every time she and Bucky would pass by. The woman had so much pity in her eyes when she saw her hand in an orc’s and she hated it.
She despised the way people misjudged her orc when he was far better than any human man she could’ve ever ended up with.
Yet, the lady kept giving her those pitiful looks, probably thinking Bucky had enslaved her or something.
But enough was enough.
When Bucky was busy looking at the knives, she made her way to the jewelry lady, determined to put an end to the ridiculousness.
“He is my husband,” she sternly told the lady in the jewelry stand, taking the chance that Bucky wasn’t listening.
“Oh.” The lady quickly gave a kind smile, turning from concerned about her to happy for her, “I apologize for misjudging you, dear. I was only worried about you. We’ve all heard stories about him.”
“Well, that’s all they are. Stories.” She ferociously defended, her eyes still stern.
“I’m sorry,” the woman sincerely expressed her regret, squeezing her hand.
She nodded with a small smile, accepting the older woman’s apology.
“I don’t see a ring on your hand.” The jewelry lady gestured to the collection of rings in her glass box with a wink.
“Oh.”
The sentence caught Bucky’s ears as he turned away to look at her embarrassed face.
“We didn’t get time to buy one. It all happened so quickly,” she explained awkwardly and Bucky’s expression fell.
“I have a pretty collection if you wanna take a look, and don’t worry about the price,” the older lady suggested kindly.
“No, it’s okay—”
“Choose what you like, sweet thing,” Bucky whispered to her, immediately by her side when he saw her eyes skimming over the jewelry, “I’m sorry I’m not familiar with the human marriage traditions. I should’ve gotten you one sooner.”
“It’s okay, Bucky. You don’t have to,” she reassured with a tender smile.
She didn’t need a ring to know that she was Bucky’s.
“I want to. I want you to wear my ring, little human.” Bucky raised her hands to his lips, placing the softest kisses on her each finger.
Her heart surged as a shy smile spread on her lips, heat rising to her cheeks.
“Okay.” She nodded happily, feeling like she was in a dream and she never wanted to wake up.
Though very expensive, Bucky ended up buying her the ring she chose. It was the prettiest gold ring with a moss agate blue diamond.
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She tried to talk him out of it, wanting to pick something cheaper, but Bucky wouldn’t have it.
She has never felt as special as she felt with Bucky’s ring on her finger. It was the prettiest thing from the most handsome orc.
And in that very moment, she was the happiest that she trusted her gut; that she gave Bucky, and herself a chance for this marriage to be something more than a contractual deal.
Bucky couldn’t believe she has finally let him make her his. When he slipped that ring on her tiny finger, he felt like he was king of the world.
While walking back to their cottage, a new dream got unlocked inside of her, one that included her and Bucky and their very own little stand in the market.
“Can we stop by the shop before we go home?” She asked tentatively.
“Sure, why? Did you forget something there yesterday?”
She has been to the shop a couple of times, curious to meet the important people in Bucky’s life and possibly have friends of her own, too.
“No, just wanna show Sarah the ring,” she said, a shy smile lighting up her happy face.
Bucky brought her hand to his lips, kissing her ring finger this time, “to the shop it is.”
~
Everything was going amazingly and she wished with all her heart that it would stay that way, but unfortunately, the very next day was a day for another fight that none of them saw coming.
Bucky still hasn’t recovered from her little stunt a few weeks ago and today he came back to find the cottage empty again.
He should have locked the door. He shouldn’t have trusted that a ring on her finger might stop her old habits or give her a magical change of heart.
What about all the small moments she had shared? Did those mean nothing to her?
Bucky’s anger and feeling of betrayal wiped away everything nice that had happened between the two of them, only remembering that she never wanted to be here in the very first place.
“Why are you so adamant about making me lose my mind?” Bucky asked, pushing her inside and slamming the door behind them.
“I’m not! Would you just listen?!” She yelled back, startled by the harsh treatment.
“What the hell were you thinking?!” Bucky shouted as if he didn’t hear her.
“I was just—”
“Wandering through the forest alone is dangerous, I’ve told you time and again, and yet you keep doing it!”
“Would you listen to me?!” 
“No! You acted like you would stop running, so what changed?!” Bucky threw his big arms in the air, making her take a step back.
Bucky looked bigger than he usually did when he was livid like that.
“I wasn’t running!” She repeated, her voice tinged with anger of her own at the distrust.
“Stop lying!” Bucky growled, roughly grabbing her by the arm.
“I’m not lying,” she insisted as she tried not to wince at the way Bucky held her forearm, her jaw clenched defiantly.
“Then what were you doing up the hill, huh?” Bucky unconsciously squeezed her arm harder.
“You’re hurting me.” She tried to pull away, but Bucky wouldn’t release her.
“You think you’re the only one who has fucking feelings?” Bucky shook her in his hold, unintentionally bruising her further.
She cried out but it fell on deaf ears, “Bucky, let me go!”
“Do you think what you do doesn’t affect me just because I’m not a goddamn human?!” He forced her closer, making her tears fall as he barked in her face.
His words hung heavy in the air, echoing through the spacious room.
“Bucky, please,” she tried again, not wanting to fight anymore.
Bucky finally listened, suddenly shocked at his actions as he let her arm go.
It’s been so long since he had made her cry and he just ruined everything good he had worked on building with her.
She just stood there, whimpering in pain as she held her arm to her chest.
Bucky watched her roll the sleeve of her winter dress up to look at her arm and there they were: thick fingerprints on her flesh.
“I— I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying to get closer to look at her arm, swallowing hard.
To his surprise, she let him.
“I’m sorry, little human.” Bucky wiped a few of her tears away, regret evident in his voice.
“I wasn’t running,” she repeated, pushing her hands in the pockets of her dress, “I was collecting berries to decorate the cake I made earlier.” She pulled handfuls of now ruined wild strawberries, raspberries and blackberries out of her pockets and dropped them on the wooden table for him to see.
She left Bucky alone to stare at the berries and went to the kitchen.
And boy did he stare.
He felt so stupid and ashamed at the way he had reacted. He just hurt her and she wasn’t even trying to leave. He wouldn’t let her explain either and had unjustly judged her.
She got out a cold water bottle from the fridge, pushing it to her bruised arm.
Bucky walked into the kitchen, shame branded on his face.
“Are you okay?” He asked, not knowing what to do to correct his mistake.
“What do you think?!” She irritably snapped at him, waving her bruised arm in the air.
“I just wanted to help!” Bucky barked back.
“Well, I don’t want your help!” She shouted.
“Fine! Don’t want it!” Bucky walked out, his feet stomping on the wooden floors.
He stormed out of the cottage, violently slamming the door behind him.
Bucky then realized what he has just done and how he had made the situation even worse. He kicked a rock so hard he was sure it flew to the other side of the forest as he saw birds flying disruptively.
“Damn it!” He yelled out loud, slamming his fist to the door, making her flinch inside the cottage.
The fight between the orc’s rough exterior and his rather tender feelings for her was torturing Bucky. What he meant to show was that he cared about her and was worried for her, but instead he’d done what he’d done.
She, on the other side of the wall, irately got out of the kitchen with the trash bin and swept the berries from the table, throwing them in the garbage.
When Bucky got inside again, she was cleaning the stain of the berries from the table, her features still twisted in a frown.
He opened his mouth, trying to think of anything he could say to fix this, but nothing came out. With a sigh, he left the cottage once more, leaving her all alone.
She sat down with a huff, throwing the cloth in her hand across the room.
She let her tears run in frustration.
It was supposed to be a peaceful night where they enjoyed a delightful desert that she has worked hard on making and was going to work hard on decorating.
She was trying to start a life with him. Why did he have to ruin it like that? She wasn’t running. How could she make him believe her?
She desperately wanted, needed Bucky to trust her.
She cried harder, feeling helpless in the face of her orc’s rage as her heart clenched at the thought of a happiness gone so soon.
Part V
~
Tag List:
@harrysthiccthighss @tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen @tumblin-theworldaway @pretty-pop-princess-hs @lilymurphy03 @idontwannagomrstarkk @glxwingrxse @littlelioncub43 @mathletemadison @canned-rootbear @pandaxnienke @loveisallyouneed1125 @floral-recs @littlemoonkiller @hallecarey1 @vespasianphantom @vicmc624 @winters1917 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @blkmystery @millercontracting @trappedwriter @am-3-thyst @obsessedwithquinn @sydnielauryn @alittlerayof-pitchblack @olipiaa @peterparkersgirl-blog @buckybarnessweetheart @thealyrs @colorfulbluebirdpainter @stuckysgirl27 @ihavetwoholesforareason @princess-bee0 @pastel-noah168 @steeph-aniie @buckitostan @onthr-dream @sapphirebarnes @123iloveyou456 @ciaqui @lindasweetie @justherefortheficandsmut @xxdiaqiaoxx @morgthemagpie @wintrsoldrluvr @goldylions @serendipitouslife90 @sebastians-love @leelee1234love
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jennifer-jeong · 2 months
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[Fluff] [Genshin Men x Reader] What Made Them Fall For You?
Xiao, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Diluc
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CONTENT
Headcanons on what makes the genshin pookies fall for you <3 Fluff, gender neutral reader, men falling for reader, reader is not traveler but is friends with them, mentions of character's trauma, CHARACTERS ARE 18+
AUTHOUR NOTES
I hope to eventually write about all the men >:) it will probably take a while to get to it but I’ll try to keep each one short to encourage myself to finish them all hehe.
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XIAO
I think Xiao would start to fall for you because you see through his tough, mean guy act. You can tell that even though his words are harsh and he’s telling you to leave him alone, he’s just protecting you. You might not see it at first, but as you understand his condition, his karmic debt, you understand him. Your realization makes you feel warm knowing that Xiao is really just an innocent soul who wanted to keep you safe. He wants so badly to never hurt anyone ever again and “repent” in solitude even though he has nothing to really repent for; he was forced to kill by his previous master and his karmic debt only comes from killing the remnants of old gods and absorbing their debt.
You start to hang around him more as a result and, much to Xiao’s dismay, he doesn’t hate it. In fact, he actually enjoys how you reignite the warmth in him, the warmth he hasn’t felt in so long since his fellow Yaksha have passed. But did he want to let you in? Shouldn’t he push you away? He’s been alone for so long, why change that now? He felt like he didn’t deserve to enjoy company again, that he didn’t deserve you and your kindness. But maybe just this time… just once, would he allow it.
WANDERER
I think Wanderer would start to fall for you because you make him feel human emotions like he’s never felt before. He’s always searched for a “heart” in the form of a gnosis, thinking it would make him human and make him feel loved and wanted. But even when he had it, it didn’t feel right. Even now, with his anemo vision, he feels more, but still not what he wants. But with you, it feels perfect. Others would probably describe what he feels as something like “butterflies in my stomach” but since he probably doesn’t really experience physical things like that, being a magical puppet and all, he thinks about how you make his vision glow. When he feels a surge of emotions, it feels like he’s using his vision. It feels powerful, happy, strong, and warm, like how a light breeze feels on a sunny afternoon.
You know about his past, what he did, and how the world wronged him. He’s been so traumatized and can barely comprehend his emotions. So when you reach out to him after he regains his memory and a new anemo vision, you try to help him through his emotions in the gentle way that you do. You’re so soft with him and it makes his vision heart ache. He believes he doesn’t deserve you but you try your best to show him otherwise. As you two get closer, you never really notice, but the wind always picks up just a little bit when he sees you.
DILUC
I think Diluc would start to fall for you because you don’t just see him as “the young and rich son of the Ragnvindr family estate.” You see him for him: Diluc. You see a beautiful soul with a broken heart that has put up walls that he intends to never break down again. Others might think that Diluc is just cold, but you and the others close to him know that no matter how cold he may seem, the pure fire that burns inside him always spreads its warmth to those around him. He’s believed for a while now that barely anyone can see what he’s hiding underneath, that people want him for his money, his property, his material things. But you prove him wrong time and time again. You sweetly say hi to him every time you see him not because you want to put on a facade to get on his good side. You don’t help him break up a fight at the tavern and clean up after because you want a monetary reward. You don’t bake him an adorable strawberry cake for his birthday because you want something back. No, you do it because you care, because you have so much love to give, and Diluc feels so lucky to be a part of your life.
He feels his feelings grow for you as time goes on. He feels you getting closer and he barely hesitates to let you in. You didn’t break down his walls, you politely made a door for yourself to enter and it makes you both laugh to think about it that way. He stays reserved around most others but always holds the door open for you, physically and metaphorically.
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Thanks for reading!
Part 2 (will link whenever I finish it!!)
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|| MASTERLIST <3 ||
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bonny-kookoo · 4 months
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Jungkook
𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐥 [Teaser]
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In which Jungkook really only went to earth to take home his new pet- but ends up leaving with a lot more than that.
Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Ocean theme, very wet planet, bioluminescence, sci-fi, Romance, strangers to lovers, God this ended up WAY softer and fluffier than I thought it would, Fluff, Kook is tall and buff but sometimes fails to realize that, a pet shark named Custard, another pet shark named Noodle, more TBA
Length: unknown yet, teaser is ~700 words
-> Masterlist
A/N: a silly idea I had because of fellow fish enthusiast @euphoricfilter
━━━━━━━━━━.~°🩵°~.━━━━━━━━━━━
“I’m pretty sure they’ll get along great.” Jungkook smiles. “Of course I’ll have to slowly familiarize the two- but Custard is very sweet, she’s just sometimes a bit moody.” He explains to you, who watches the other shark in the tank with him as he’s being fed by a caretaker.
“I heard they’re a.. popular pet.” You mention, and Jungkook nods.
“Yeah! I initially wanted a lemon shark first, but then things changed, and I got custard first.” He shrugs. “Which I think might have been a good thing, considering that lemon sharks are said to get jealous easily if not properly socialized. It’s easier to introduce them to an already established shark than have them first and get them comfortable with a new one.” The alien explains, watching his new pet swim around.
“You know a lot about them.” You say, and he chuckles a bit bashful.
“I uh- not really. I just.. wanted to know what I’d be getting myself into. A pet is a big responsibility. “ He explains to you, and you nod.
“I swam with lemon sharks before.” You mention. “they’re pretty cute, but.. a bit chaotic sometimes.” You giggle, remembering the time, and how overwhelmed you’d gotten as the sharks had began playfully fighting over attention of you and the other divers.
“So you’re a good swimmer?” He asks curiously, standing next to you in front of the gigantic tank that holds his chosen pet inside, the young shark swimming around for now, while he’s being prepared for the newer conditions soon to become his permanent home.
“..decent.” You laugh a bit uneasy. “I.. nowhere near, you know, your skills.” You say, and he laughs.
“Oh that’s- like comparing clams with mussels. It’s not the same- just looks similar. Like us!” He shrugs off. “I think you’re under-selling yourself. And even if you’re not a good swimmer- I could teach you!” He offers, making you look up from where you stand near the glass.
"I'm just.. still a bit scared." You admit. "You know, after all that happened. I don't think I could just.. forget that and just.." you sigh, and he gently bumps your shoulder.
"Hey.. no one's asking you to." He tells you. "It just might be a good chance to face your fears? And I'll always be right at your side. I have an underwater license after all!" He proudly reminds you, and you can't help but laugh.
“You really seem like you really want me to visit your planet.” You tease, though he clearly doesn’t take it as a joke- nodding with almost cute enthusiasm.
“Of course! You said you always wanted to- so why not do it while visiting a friend?” He proposes. “it’s safer than just going alone. You could get lost, or even hurt.” He tells you. “and you’d miss out on.. you know, the spots only locals know.” Jungkook says, before he looks as Noodle swims closer again to inspect something floating around.
“I mean, you’re right..” you mumble, watching the shark move around. “…but I don’t know. I don’t think I could.. really.. I’m still just human.” You tell him, and he nods.
“I’m aware.” He responds. “and my planet has already made many adjustments to accommodate humans in many areas. You seem to forget that my kind has been.. mixing with humans for a long time by now. “ He chuckles. “means we had to evolve too, and change some of our architecture and stuff to adapt to those changes.” He says.
He’s right. And, in a way, he’s a living example of that change- with his honestly surprisingly human appearance, minus the height difference, and the hardly visible stripes of his skin.
“so, if you’d like, I’d happily house you for your vacation on my planet.” He grins. “and we can see just how well you swim.” He teases, leaning down a bit towards you before you both leave the large hall containing the tank for his new pet-
And you feel like this won’t just be a vacation at all, considering that he’s made it clear that he’s found interest in you past just simply being friends.
And in a way, you don’t mind that one bit.
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filmbyjy · 1 year
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BLACK PANTHER NI-KI (1)
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— main HYBRID masterlist
SUMMARY: abandoned as a cub, ni-ki has never felt the feeling of affection or love. he lived in a harsh condition of being in a hybrid pound. you were a worker at the pound and you couldn’t help but feel bad for the large cat. you decided to bring him home one day. how will he warm up?
WORD COUNT: 1K words
warnings: none at all :)
taglist[open]: @nyfwyeonjun @luvkait @hello-stranger24 @cowsidfk @tzuyusluv @beans-and-jeanes @andromedawillburryyou @belovedxiao
NOTE: bro, i never knew panthers are practically just leopards. my mind has been blown.
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“woah woah, calm down there.” you heard a growl coming the other room. it was a familiar growl you had grown accustomed to ever since you started working here. it belonged to a feline, a large cat actually.
you had walked over to the large cage, knowing the large feline wasn’t too happy. moreover, you were worried about your colleague possibly loosing an arm. the large cat was cautious and would attack new staff members. once you had arrived, your colleague was happy to see you, he quickly tugs on your sleeves.
“please help me. ni-ki doesn’t want to get his nails trimmed. i’m scared he might just pounce and scratch me.” the guy says. you snort.
“ni-ki doesn’t harm anyone, he’s just territorial. you need to be careful and not push his boundaries.” you grabbed the nail file. the large cat has never once changed into his human form. which meant no one truly knew how he looked like.
you had slowly stepped into his cage, a little wary. however, you knew that you had already created a little bond with ni-ki. you were sure you had gain a little trust from him.
“hey, ni-ki. I umm need to file your nails. they’re getting too long and if it’s too long, it will be harder to eat things.” you say.
the panther growls a little to answer you. he puts out his paw in front of you and you smiled.
“thank you. we’ll be done in minimum 15 minutes for all your paws. I’ll give you a big treat if you stay still, okay?” the panther roars. he places his head down to lay on the ground. you fight the urge to pet the cat.
10 mins was over, you must’ve forgotten your colleague was there.
“(name), how do you do this?” he watches in amusement and astonishment.
“it’s been 3 years since I started working here. I guess i just sort of gained a little trust.” you continued filing down ni-ki’s claws. the panther had fallen asleep a while ago, enjoying the silence.
“you know…I don’t think ni-ki has ever shown interest in anybody other than you.”
“did the seniors say so?”
“yeah. maybe…you should adopt him.”
“i’m not sure if he’d want that. I still need to gain his trust more. plus, panthers are pretty high maintenance. they are exotic pets.”
“what if he turns into his human form? it would be easier since he can eat human food too.”
“thats true but I don’t think he wants to. I think to him being in his animal form is comforting and safe. being a human is hard you know.” you say.
“you don’t live with your family though. you moved here with the intention of getting better education which means you’re pretty lonely. I think having a friend around would be great.”
you sighed, “I don’t know if ni-ki will allow it. i’m just afraid that if I bring him home out of nowhere, he’ll shun me out.”
“it’s been 3 years and you’ve tried to gain his trust. I think if you two stay together, it will be great for bonding.”
you could sense the hybrid was waking up. your met with his the moment they opened up. he was adorable in his animal form and you could only imagine how he’d look like. ni-ki doesn’t growl at you once he wakes up but he does once he noticed your colleague.
“see! he’s doing it only to me and not you! (name), come on.” your colleague says.
“fine. where do I sign the papers…”
you had signed the adoption papers for ni-ki and it didn’t surprise any of the staff there. they knew it was about time for ni-ki to get adopted and you were the best choice.
as you made your way to ni-ki’s you can’t help but realise if he ever was comfortable being in his human form, he’d surely have no clothes to change into.
maybe I should go shopping…
you entered his room.
“hey, ni-ki. umm minor change but umm you wont be staying in this cage anymore. you have a home now.”
this catches the panther’s attention. he roars.
“i’m raising you now. my home is going to be your home.” you say. the panther just stares at you.
well at least he’s okay?
“uh, we’ll bring you home at the end of my shift, how about that?” you inched a little closer to him. the panther doesn’t mind, in fact he circles around you rubbing his head on your body. you knew he was scenting you, kinda like marking his territory to let other people know you are his owner (or his).
“oh, you’re really dont mind it?” he lets out a little roar. you cupped the panther’s face and pet him. you’ve officially let your intrusive thoughts win. what you didn’t expect was for him to purr. guess he really liked it.
“you’re so adorable. i’ll come grab you when the shift is over, okay?” he does what seems like a little nod. you smiled.
“oh umm, I know you’re not comfortable changing to your human form but i’ll just place this here. it’s my brother’s, I sort of stole it from him before coming to this city. you can use it.” you say. ni-ki looks down at the clothes.
“see you later.” you waved at him before continuing with your day. you had other tasks to do for the day.
5:30PM. your shift had just ended and you knew you had to bring ni-ki out. however, how in the world were you going to bring the boy out? you couldn’t just bring a panther out, people may think you’re insane for bringing a wild animal out. it’s not like they knew ni-ki was a hybrid.
“hey, ni-ki I think we may need to call a-”
the moment you entered the room. there sat the said panther in his human form. you were in shock, why was he so…handsome? the way his hair was long, black ears barely making an appearance. he was tall, plump lips that looked kissable-
wait no, you can’t be thinking ni-ki in that light. sure, the both of you were the same age but no. nothing can happen between the both of you.
there is no way he turned into his human form. your mouth was wide opened.
“(name).” he says.
even his voice was deep. this is just the start of living together, how would you survive?
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writingpuddle · 11 months
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i wanna talk about this scene because its one of my favourite character moments for both aaron and neil. theyve just gotten to the cabin, only a handful of days after nathans death, and aaron gets neil alone and says this:
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now listen. maybe what aaron is doing here is exactly what it looks like. maybe he is concerned that neil is exploiting andrew, and this is him being a protective brother. and i do think theres a part of him that is. he could also be reacting badly due to homophobia, and maybe a part of him is too. but mostly -
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he's testing neil.
see, aarons not totally heartless. in that moment in baltimore, when neil was bloody and beaten to shit - aaron was horrified with the rest of them. he might not like neil particularly much, but when you see someone you moderately dislike tortured past the point of human endurance, youre going to put aside your dislike for a second. youre going to take their side, and aaron does. when the foxes claim neil, aaron is right up there with them.
but unlike neil and andrew, who spend the next few days in the emotional wringer with the feds, aaron had several days to process. to really process what allison pointed out to them.
and he realized he could use it.
maybe thats callous of him, but mostly its inevitable; this is how the twins have learned to communicate, to leverage each other with bribes and threats. he watched andrew nearly kill kevin, pick a fight with the feds, grip neils hoodie like he might disappear if he didnt hold on tight enough, and he understood that there was nothing andrew wouldnt do for neil.
meanwhile, neil is still coming off of weeks of telling himself, gritted teeth, its fine so long as andrew doesnt care about me, its fine so long as andrew doesnt care about me, its fine so long as andrew doesnt care about me...
hes barely begun to acknowledge the much less dangerous fact that he has feelings for andrew. less dangerous because if andrew doesnt care about him, then neils death wont hurt him, and neils feelings cant be hurt if hes the one that dies. but if andrew has feelings for him, then this whole time hes been risking that his death would break andrew - break the very person he most wants to protect.
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so neil denies it. hes made the first wobbly step towards freedom, but he hasnt yet dealt with the moriyamas. he could still die at any moment. wrapping his head around his fathers death hasnt given him enough time to break those weeks of conditioning himself in the dark. andrew doesnt care about me. andrew cant care about me. neil will go to war for andrew but the idea that the converse is true is too dangerous to look at directly. to protect andrew, to protect himself, he denies it.
but when aaron asks neil if andrew will fight for him, he's not really asking. we can see it in the casual way he shrugs off neils denial. he doesnt care what neil says. he wants to see what neil does. he already knows - or has a pretty strong bet - what andrew will do. what he needs to know is if neil is serious.
listen, i am personally of the belief that if andrew released aaron from his deal for neils sake and then things went sour with neil, andrew would respect the broken deal anyway. but i dont think aaron sees that - he hasnt yet fully internalized that andrew does things out of his own brand of fairness, and not out of malice. so he needs to know; andrew will fight for this. will neil?
so he lobs a grenade at neil, a loaded accusation, and neil comes back swinging. and theres aarons answer. neil isnt exploiting andrew, hes not just playing around. hes as viciously protective of andrew as andrew is of him and those two repressed assholes might not be saying it with words, but aarons not stupid. andrew gave himself away when neil went missing and now neils showed his hand too.
neils right. he has been had, and hes just lucky that what aaron wants is exactly what neil wanted anyway.
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super-paper · 8 months
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Rereading the early chapters of MHA, and tbh I think we can pin this scene as the exact moment Tomura develops his fixation on Izuku.
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Everyone in this scene assumes that All Might doesn’t need any help and starts wandering off, leaving All Might to face Kurogiri and Tomura alone. Izuku is the only one to intervene, "offering help that no one asked for." Of course, Izuku is the only one with actual insight into All Might’s condition and realizes that he's in danger— but from Tomura’s perspective, Izuku is some rando kid that's throwing himself into danger to help someone who doesn’t appear to need any help. And the emphasis on everyone else being willing to just sit back and do nothing while All Might handles everything is something we know ties directly to one of Tomura’s biggest traumas:
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Tomura: "Don't just watch. Help Me. Someone please look at me. Don't just tell me not to cry. Don't just smile and pretend that everything is alright. Don't pretend you don't see me." MHAReddit: Ah, I understand-- obviously, the series is saying that Tenko is dead and we can beat this guy by punching him harder! :)
I gotta stress that Shouto and Co. are kids and I'm not faulting them for deciding to let an adult handle the situation (and I don't doubt in the slightest that they would have also chosen to intervene if they were privvy to the same information abt Toshinori's health as Izuku)-- but from Tomura's perspective where he holds pretty much everyone equally responsible for society's failings, this act was enough for him to start subconsciously singling Izuku out.
Meanwhile, the sports festival just reinforces Tomura's budding interest bc it reinforces that Izuku is actually batshit crazy and Tomura's response to this is to ask ".... how crazy we talkin'? 👀"
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Oh, Izuku, you were definitely gonna get kidnapped at some point 😭
Anyway, stuff like this is also why I feel that Horikoshi likely planned on having Izuku save Tomura from the very beginning (And I've seen ppl argue that Hori had planned to have Tomura be the final boss and get defeated/killed because of Nine's existence, but let's be real-- Nine was an AFO expy parading around in a Yoichi expy's body and ya'll know it). There's a lot of set up for why Izuku is ultimately the best person to save Tomura scattered throughout the early stages of the manga, like, literally starting from the very first page:
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Izuku: *crying the biggest and ugliest tears mankind has ever seen, snot pouring out of his nose, sweating a frankly concerning amount, and fighting back his own tears because he just can't ignore the tears of others* I GOTTA SAVE THAT CRYING BOY....!!! Shigaraki Tomura, famously a freak, inching himself closer to Midoriya Izuku's splash zone with every chapter: ....... :) :) :)
Izuku saves others despite being a sobbing, snotty, sweaty mess--often times while he's being a sobbing, snotty, sweaty mess. It's antithetical to All Might and Nana's beliefs about saving others with a smile and about cultivating an "image"/"mask" meant to reassure others-- but that's not a bad thing, and the whole series is built around showing us why it isn't a bad thing.
Izuku cannot separate his own inherent humanity and desires from his heroism and is driven by impulse/ego/pain the same way Tomura is. He remains a crybaby who wears his emotions on his sleeve throughout the entirety of the manga-- and the lesson he ultimately learns isn't that he should "just stop crying and hide all his fear behind a smile," it's that he shouldn't run from that aspect of himself because it's the part of himself that allows him to empathize with others. Izuku saves a piece of himself every time he gives his all to save those who are in tears, and he's become the exact type of hero who would've given it his all to save his child self.
This might not be the sort of hero Izuku fantasized about being-- but it's exactly the sort of hero Tomura needs after a lifetime of having his own tears downplayed and ignored by everyone.
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on that note, the anime having Tenko and Izuku's "masks" basically evaporating to reveal their soft, sparkly, shoujo-y centers in that one season 6 OP remains one of the most on-point visuals the anime has ever given us lmfao. can't wait to see what they do for s7.....!
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quesidillaislandtakes · 3 months
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So I wanna talk about the different groups and what I think they mean, because I have different opinions on it compared to others and I think as many opinions on this will put us on the right track.
First, the Department of Convivial Condition Observation. Basically, all of our original eggs (including our deceased ones.) ‘Convivial’ is another word for ‘Friendly’ or ‘Happy.’ Basically their purpose was “Can we keep these eggs in the hands of others and have them be happy and well?” Since half of them died, we got mixed results. So they went onto case two.
Second, the Department of Subsistence monitoring. A lot of people pointed out that all of the eggs were found in hidden locations. Basically ‘how long would they survive without human contact?’ Talulah survived 25 days, Pomme survived 56 days, and ‘Hope’ (The unknown egg) was declared dead after 161 days. (Whether they are actually dead or the federation just thinks they are dead is unknown.)
Third, the Department of Permanence Surveillance. In this group was Pepito, Sunny, and Empanada. It's true they were all found on Egg Island, but I don’t think that's what connects them to ‘Permanence Surveillance.’ I believe the connection is their parents. They were all given to parents who had previously lost an egg. Empanada was given to Jaiden, who lost Bobby. Sunny was given to Charlie, who lost Juanaflippa. And Pepito was given to ElMariana (Juannaflippa,) Roier (Bobby,) and Quackity (Tilin.) They were testing to see if the eggs were the problem or the parents were the problem. They were watching them (Surveillance) and seeing if they died or not (Permanence.)
And finally, the Department of System Analysis. This one stumps me a bit, but I have a couple of theories. Either he (as well as another egg) is used to fight against problems as the system, or they are the problems and the system is the federation. The second one seems more likely. Richas was always seen as ‘The problem child,’ whether it's his chaotic nature or because he lost a leg, in the eyes of the system, he is the one causing the most problems for them. So they are using him as a chaotic factor, Using him to prepare for anything and everything. That's why him and the other egg is glitched in the system, they are trying to analyse and prepare for anything they might do or be or have.
And those are my theories, hope you enjoy ❤️
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thestobingirlie · 2 months
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steve harrington has powers
and they will be revealed in s5
steve’s power reveal has been hinted at from the very beginning, and now we’re in the final season, all our waiting will have paid off, and his status as an escaped child from the lab will play a key role in defeating the upside down and vecna for good.
first things first, let’s think about two factors that define steve as a character. ask any fan, no matter how casual, about steve, and they’ll know these two things; he gets into fights every single season and his hair is a key part of his character.
steve’s hair plays a role in his character arc.
as steve grows fully into himself as a character, his hair changes with him, becoming longer, wilder, less neat and styled. his hair represents his growth within his current arc.
who else is a character with an arc that can be well represented by their current hairstyle? eleven.
as el’s hair grows, we watch her figure out who she is as a person, learn to style it, grow and even lose it. this is no coincidence.
steve’s hair growth is directly tied to his status as a lab child. his rejection of the abuse he faced growing up can be seen in the care and attention he directs towards his hair. as he becomes a more fully developed character, who is learning and changing as he interacts with more environments, his hair changes with him.
not to mention that steve using women’s hairspray and stying products for his hair clearly show that he was raised outside of the bounds of normal gender roles. he has no issue with using woman’s shampoo and condition because he wasn’t taught to. his ideas of masculinity don’t revolve around social expectations, much like el.
steve’s fights are the biggest indicator of steve’s abilities.
or rather, should i say the aftermath of those fights.
we watch steve get obliterated in a fight scene every single season, and yet not five minutes later, he’s walking it off! he has zero repercussions of these fights. no headaches. no scars. no lingering wounds.
he routinely throws himself back into the fray. no matter how badly wounded.
this is NOT an accident, nor was it a choice made so that the duffers could beat up their favourite punching bag and still use him as a key player in fights. it’s obviously there as a hint to the audience as to the true nature of steve’s ability.
now, it’s fairly obvious where i’m going with this: steve has accelerated healing as a result of the experiments performed on him by hawkins lab.
now, you might just say, “so what? he healed from battling humans.”
but it’s so much more than that.
steve fought and was eaten by upside down creatures.
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no other character has survived that. no other character carries wounds and scars from surviving a run in with a demo-creature.
bar one.
eleven.
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coincidence? of course not.
steve is the only character that wears a wristwatch in near every single scene he’s in.
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not only is his watch constantly on, it’s takes a prominent place in key scenes. the duffers want you to look at it.
why else would they refuse to show his wrist in every single scene? they don’t want us to see what’s underneath. so what could the duffers be hiding under there? his number.
and the number, god it’s so obvious. STEVEN. SEVEN.
i mean, it’s staring us right in the face!!!
steve’s past
now, this point is so obvious, everyone can see it: we’ve never even met steve’s parents.
the only teenage character from prior to s3 whose parents we haven’t met. we don’t even know their names.
in fact, tommy and carol even seem used to the fact that steve’s parents aren’t home. implying that they’re never there. because they don’t exist.
we’ve seen his house! and yet… empty. the room is blank. there’s nothing in there to even suggest it is steve’s house. he has no personal effects.
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every single other character has identifying objects in their room. but not steve. why would the duffers do this? because they’re hinting to the audience that steve doesn’t belong there.
there’s not even any reference of steve prior to the beginning of s1. jonathan? we see flashbacks. nancy? we get mention of her playing dnd years before. all the party have pictures. we watch max’s childhood memories play out.
and yet. the closest we get to characters remembering steve in their own past, is steve from the year 1983. naturally, that isn’t the year that steve escaped the lab, but it does bring up interesting questions about steve living on the edge of hawkins population. he may have been the most popular boy around, but it seems no one truly knew him.
steve didn’t go the college.
and it’s not because he didn’t get in.
steve was getting c’s in classes nancy found difficult.
steve was in at least two different sports (basketball and swimming), he was a lifeguard and co-captain of the swimming team. that takes work and dedication, and it looks good when applying to college.
to be in all these sports, steve had to have been getting above a certain grade level. certainly high enough to get into college.
the duffers know that steve could’ve gotten into college, so why would they make it so obvious that steve is lying?
because steve didn’t apply in the first place. because as an escapee from the lab, he doesn’t even exist in the real world. he has no birth certificate, no records from being a child. attending some high school in the middle of nowhere would’ve been easy, but attending college? drawing attention to himself? steve couldn’t risk it. he knew he’d be found.
TL;DR
el and steve are purposefully paralleled to hint towards steve’s past and secret abilities. there’s a reason the duffers have never allowed prolonged interactions between el and steve, because they want to drag out the reveal as long as they can. there is so much more, but god, it would take forever.
we still don’t even know the full extent of steve’s abilities (i personally believe that steve has some variation of a charisma ability. i mean. every single character that’s disliked him has spent a very short amount of one on one time with him and immediately come around.) and we likely won’t until s5 finally comes out. and then the world will know…
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just-a-creep-babe · 1 year
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A Demon’s Ache — Part 6
Eyeless Jack x Reader Smut
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Commissioned by @cookiereblogss thank you so so much for the support, I appreciate it so! Damn much!! 💖💖
I hope everyone's still enjoying the story ^^ I know it might seem like I'm padding stuff out, but I promise there's a reason for it!! Anyways, I'm entirely open to hearing your genuine thoughts about how things are moving forwards, plz don't be shy to lmk! And I hope yall enjoy this part 6!!
Requests are closed but commissions are open!
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Masterlist: x
He can’t do it
He knows he’s a coward
But he just can’t face you
He can’t confront you, he doesn’t have it in him
Especially not after what he did outside your door
And since then, whenever he’s seen you walk by, whenever your paths have met, he’s had to turn away because of the guilt and shame fluttering in his chest
Even just this morning, when you offered him a smile as you passed him down the hall, he could barely face you
It looked like you wanted to talk to him, but he couldn’t even bring himself to look you in the eyes, much less have a civilized discussion with you
He’s a fucking coward
You probably think he’s upset with you
He doesn’t know what to do with himself, doesn’t know how to deal with the mess he’s created
So, he eventually resorts to the one person that’s offered any kind of help up until this point
He reaches the familiar clearing lined by the rotting wooden fence
And he almost can’t believe his misfortune when he sees that you’re there—flushed, panting and sweaty, chatting with Hoodie and Masky by the edges of the training ground
That’s right, he remembers you’ve been training with Hoodie recently
He tries to force down the jealousy blooming in his chest like familiar heartache
And he almost turns away to avoid you again
But then Hoodie looks up, and a grin appears on his face at the sight of Jack approaching
The proxy looks back down at you, then nudges his head towards the demon
You turn to look at what he’s gesturing towards
And then Jack locks eyes with you
Fuck
He can’t keep running away from you
He takes in a deep breath to steel his nerves, then keeps walking to join up with the three of you
The two proxies nod at him, and you offer him another smile, similar to the one you gave him earlier today
God, that smile
“Came here to train as well?”
Hoodie’s voice snaps him from his daze
That’s right, he should probably stop staring at you
He clears his throat, tries to act natural
“Yeah,” he lies, and then to sound more believable, he adds, “I figured you could use more practice after I won so easily last time”
Hoodie snorts
“Hey, hey, don’t act like I didn’t get a few good ones in on you”
“You? Land some good hits on him?” Masky suddenly interjects with a sarcastic huff, “c’mon, man, your lies are usually more believable than that”
“Watch it, old man, you’re in no condition to start a fight,” Hoodie playfully threatens his partner with a light kick to his leg, which has Masky grunting in pain
And that’s when Jack finally notices the crutches leaning up against the fence next to Masky
“You fucking—“
Masky makes a move to retaliate, but Hoodie jumps back, and the injured proxy can’t go through with his attack
“What happened?” Jack asks, interrupting them with a nod toward the crutches
“Twisted my fucking ankle,” the proxy answers, shooting a death glare through his mask at his partner, “and then I got a nice little ax jammed into my calf. Damaged some nerves or something, I don’t know”
Jack hums
What would otherwise be a grave injury for a normal human was usually just a minor inconvenience for one of Slender’s proxies
The perks of getting your soul snatched up by a devil, Jack supposes
“You sure you don’t want me to take a look at it?” he offers, but Masky just shakes his head
“I’ll be fine, just sitting these sessions out for now”
“He’s using it as an excuse to take a vacation,” Hoodie teases, and he laughs as Masky fails to attack him again
“You son of a goddamn fucking—“
“Alright, alright, children, break it up”
You move between the two proxies, acting as a barrier to get them to stop annoying one another
Jack feels another pang of jealousy, but he manages to mostly just ignore it
You shake your head, grinning as the two men keep flicking and annoying one another over your smaller form
With a chuckle, you sigh
“Anyways, I’ll let you guys do your workout," you nod at Jack and Hoodie, “I gotta go take a shower”
Jack wants to say something as you’re leaving
He wants to apologize, wants to have the courage to just openly talk about what’s going on between the two of you
But it’s like there’s a disconnect between his brain and his mouth, and he suddenly doesn’t know how to speak
He’s going to have to stand there and watch you leave again
You’re a few feet away when you turn to face him, much to his surprise
“Oh, that’s right,” you say, and Jack’s ears perk up attentively, “we’re thinking about having a campfire in the backyard tomorrow. You in?”
“Of course,” he answers immediately
You smile, and the sight has him feeling all warm inside before he’s reminded of the cruel truth
He can’t trick himself again
Can’t trick himself into believing you’re into him the same way he’s into you
“Great, I’ll see you then!”
And with that, you walk off
He watches you leave, hearing the irregular pattern of his heart beating against his ribcage
He’s only snapped out of it by Hoodie yet again, who walks up behind him and offers a few friendly pats on the back
“Ah, young love~” he snickers
There’s a pause, and then Jack groans, smacking his hand to his face
“Is it that obvious?”
“Obvious?” Masky repeats the word, and Jack looks back at the injured proxy, who folds his thick arms over his chest, “Even an eight-year-old dead kid was able to pick up on it. You’re beyond obvious. You’re hopeless”
Jack groans again, and Hoodie’s condescending back pats do little to console him
“Relax,” Hoodie says, and Jack does not, in fact, relax, “She doesn’t have anything against you, y’know. You guys just need to work something out”
Jack tries not to groan again, just because three in a row seem like a bit much, at this point
“That’s the thing,” he starts, “I just—I can’t. I can’t talk to her. It’s like something gets in the way, or,” he shakes away the very recent memory of what he did in front of your door, “it just never works out”
“Listen, you’re making yourself panic. Just don’t overthink it; she’ll hear you out no matter how much you stumble over your words”
“Which you seem to do a lot around her,” Masky snickers, and whatever’s left of Jack’s confidence deflates just a little bit more
Hoodie shoots Masky a look, but all that does is make him laugh again
“Look man, she invited you to the campfire thing, right? Why don’t you try to talk to her before then? And if that doesn’t work, maybe try to find a way to spend time with her tomorrow morning or something”
Hoodie’s words do little to encourage him
Masky must notice, because he eventually adds, “I say there’s no point in waiting that long. You have something to tell her? Do it now—waiting around will just stress you out even more. You’re not doing yourself any favors by building it up in your head”
There’s a pause as Jack considers his insight
“…Ok. Alright. You’re right, I have to do this”
The demon nods to himself
He’ll just have to bite the proverbial bullet; things won’t get any less awkward between the both of you if he doesn’t do anything about it
And, really, what’s the point of waiting?
“There we go, that’s the attitude,” Hoodie gives him a few more pats on the back, “you got this, man”
When he reaches your room this time, it’s open
He knocks on the open door, calls out your name, but there’s no response
He tried giving you plenty of time to shower and come back, but maybe he’d been too eager and hadn’t waited long enough
The rational thing to do is leave and come back later
But, for some reason, he doesn’t
It’s like he’s pulled into your room, like he can’t stop his instincts from tugging him forwards—a puppet on the strings of his desire
The faint smell of your arousal lingers in the air
He breathes it in, and his abdomen immediately clenches in response
He’s being inappropriate again, he knows it
He shouldn’t be doing this
But fuck, you smell so fucking delicious
He swallows thickly
His thoughts are teetering between wanting to stay and knowing he should leave—especially before you walk in on him
And then his sight lands on a pair of lacy underwear that you left at the foot of your bed
He freezes
He shouldn’t
Christ, he really, really shouldn’t
But he notices the wet patch you’ve left on them, and it’s like he can’t help himself
He pockets them and walks out
There’s a sick sense of guilt clinging to him as he reaches his room
You’d almost think he’d be used to that feeling by now, after all the inappropriate things he’s done
But this feels like he’s just crossed yet another line
Either way, that guilt isn’t strong enough to get him to return the panties to your room
It’s not strong enough to stop him from pulling them out of his pockets and running his fingers over the wet spot at the center
And it’s most certainly not strong enough to stop him from balling them up to his face and inhaling deeply
As soon as he does, he’s done for
His lust overrides any remaining rational thought
Your scent drives him feral
He groans, already drunk off the thought of you
Another deep breath, and he’s practically drooling
It’s no use trying to hold himself back, he’s already a goner
Getting on his bed, he quickly undoes his pants, letting his hard-on spring free, and with his dominant hand, he strokes his erection from the very base all the way to the tip
He grunts, trying to imagine it was you wrapped up around him instead of just his hand
He presses your panties closer to his face, bunching them up, teasing the wet spot at his lips so that he can just barely taste the remnants of your arousal
Friends
Would you still hold that sentiment knowing all the filthy things he does while thinking of you?
He sighs, the sound low and gravelly from somewhere deep within his chest
God, you’re fucking perfect
Everything about you makes him insatiable—it’s like you were made for him, made to torture him with his need
He grinds his hips up into his palm, feeling his cock twitch and throb in response
He imagines you clenching around him, making all those pretty sounds he’s heard you make recently
He breathes in again, another lungful of your scent, and it’s almost too much
He squeezes the tip of his length, and your name escapes him in a husky sigh
His hips wriggle up, pushing more of his length into his hand, and he imagines you on top of him, naked, your back arching as he fills your pretty little cunt up with the entirety of his length
He chokes out another groan, feeling his hips stutter impatiently
When he inhales, more of your scent floods his senses, and that insatiable hunger coils in his stomach until all of his muscles are tensing involuntarily
He’s burning for your touch
He snaps his hips forward, aching cock twitching in his hold, releasing a few more beads of precum at his slit
His tongue traces over the lace of your panties, and when your taste fills his mouth, he groans eagerly
“F-fuck—(y/n)~”
He sounds just about as desperate as he feels
He pumps his length in and out, in and out of his clenched fist until his shaft is slick with precum
He imagines you lapping at his stiff cock, he imagines bending you over and screwing you senseless
The fantasies he’s had countless times before replay in his mind as he uses your panties to help him get off
Knowing your bare cunt was rubbing against the lace not too long ago turns him on more than any kind of porn ever could
It doesn’t even come close
He curses, groaning, his movements growing increasingly rushed and frantic
His mind and body alike are consumed by his desperation
His fingers dig into the delicate material, and if he had any more control over himself, he’d be worried about tearing them
But he’s too far gone to care, too engrossed in the way the pretty lace feels pressing against his face to care about being gentle
When he licks at the wet spot again, he can almost imagine his tongue was buried inside your walls instead
He ruts into his clenched fist, the prominent vein curling along his shaft throbbing with equal impatience
He’s a snarling, groaning mess, jerking himself off like a depraved fucking teenager
He huffs at your panties, breathing you in, letting your scent and taste and even just the thought of you overwhelm him until he snaps
He pushes his hips forwards, his cock twitching and throbbing as he finally cums
His seed dribbles down his shaft, pooling in a mess at his pelvis, but he’s too euphoric to care
He gives a few more languid thrusts into his hand, riding out the high, before eventually stilling
He’s panting, chest heaving, your lace panties still bundled up at his face for him to savor
But it’s just not enough
It’s not the real thing
He won’t be satisfied until he gets you
There’s a brief pause as he lets the endorphins wash over him
And then, as he’s staring up at the ceiling, basking in the aftermath of his high, he thinks, fuck
He really just stole your panties to get himself off
He’s a fucking perv
Swallowing thickly, he tries not to think about your reaction if you ever found out
Instead, he wipes up his mess, going through the leftover box of tissues he keeps by his bedside for times like these
He should probably return your underwear, he realizes
But by this point, you’ve probably finished your shower, and you’re probably back in your room already
He’ll have to return them before tomorrow night, just so that he won’t feel so guilty seeing you at the campfire and knowing he still has them
He sighs to himself
Why does he have to make things so complicated?
Why can’t he just control himself around you?
After obsessing over you for as long as Jack has, the demon has become somewhat familiar with your routine
He knows when you’re least likely to be in your room
Which means he knows the perfect time to sneak in without you seeing him do so
So in the early afternoon the following day, he finds himself back inside your place with relative ease
Surrounded by your things, your various trinkets, clothing and furniture, it has a certain kind of warmth blooming in his chest
Everything in your room is so distinctly you
Not only does your scent mark it as your territory, but the way you’ve set things up, the way you’ve decorated—it’s all so obviously your space
It brings a smile to his lips
He can’t help it; he’s utterly head-over-heels for you
He should just drop off your panties and leave as soon as he can to avoid getting caught
But again, it’s like he’s only pulled deeper into your room
Like he's coaxed into invading your space because he’s too love-drunk and obsessed to stop himself
He notices some of the framed pictures you have scattered around, and he finds himself looking at each and every single one
Some of them are with you and different creeps from the mansion, posing or hanging out at various events
Others have people he doesn’t recognize in them, and he realizes he doesn’t know much about your life before you joined the mansion
He hums, taking one of the framed photos to trace over the outline of your face
You’re grinning at the camera next to someone he doesn’t recognize, your arm thrown over their shoulder
Both of you look like you’re mid-laugh
Your smile’s utterly contagious
His heart swells in his chest
It’s only dampened by the reminder that you don’t feel the same
He sets the picture back down, trying to ignore the bitter sting of unrequited love
Focus, he tells himself
He has to find somewhere to leave your underwear that won’t be obvious they were ever taken in the first place
Next to your door, he spots a hamper for dirty laundry
Bingo
He peeks inside, which in hindsight, he really shouldn’t have
He should’ve just dropped the panties inside, then left without looking back
Because there, amongst various t-shirts and jeans, he sees them—those fucking shorts
The shorts you were wearing when he ate you out, when he fingered you at the kitchen table
He swallows thickly
Twice now
Twice he’s had a sexual encounter with you, and both of those times, you were wearing these shorts
The shorts that hug your ass so perfectly, that show off just the right amount of thigh
He wonders if they still carry your scent
He can only imagine they do
Tentative hands reach out to them
He feels the fabric against his fingertips, and he’s reminded of the way your skin had felt against his knuckles when he’d stroked over your leg
He can’t do it, he realizes, he can’t return your underwear
It’s all he has of you
It’s all he can use when he’s aching for you
Would taking the shorts be too far?
In a split-second decision, instead of taking your shorts, he takes another pair of panties that’d been tossed into the hamper
Just like the first pair, he stuffs these in his pockets, then quickly walks out of your room
He’ll return them, he thinks, he’ll definitely return them eventually
He’s just not ready to return them just yet
Thankfully, no one catches him leaving your room
And he’s so, so close to reaching the sanctuary of his own room when, much to his mortification, he hears you calling out to him
He freezes in his tracks, his hand just barely hovering over his doorknob
“Oh, hey Jack, I was looking for you!”
He can barely look you in the eyes as he turns to face you when you approach him, but hopefully, you don’t notice anything suspicious through the cover of his mask
“About the campfire I mentioned—“ you pause, looking at him
It’s like the underwear are burning in his pockets
“Yeah?” he asks, trying not to flinch at how the guilt so obviously seeps through his voice
“I know I said it was supposed to be tonight, but we’re pushing it to tomorrow because it’s raining”
When he doesn’t say anything, because he just doesn’t know what to say, you hesitate
“…Is that alright? Do you still think you’ll join?”
He nods
He feels like a deer in headlights
“A-alright, well… I guess I’ll see you then”
He nods again
You seem to hesitate again, like there’s more you want to tell him
But then you turn and leave
And as soon as you do, he opens the door and quickly closes it shut behind him
He was supposed to return your panties
Not steal another pair
He’s only gone and made things worse yet again
What the fuck is wrong with him?
546 notes · View notes
angel-of-the-moons · 8 months
Text
A Rose Under The Moon
Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Fem!Reader
TW/CW: Violence, graphic violence, blood, fighting, human trafficking, mentions of abuse, drug use, child abuse, sex trafficking, angst. So much angst.
MINORS DNI: I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
A/N: Whew! I'm proud of this one! Many thanks to my bestest friend, Artemis, who himself has DID and helps me understand this condition and describe them (hopefully) more accurately! His system is a big help in me learning more about this subject! (Extra note: any Spanish spoken in this fic is in italics. As I am not a fluent speaker by any means, it is mostly translated by Google. Have fun!)
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Chapter 2:
Inside Voices
(Steven, no…) Marc's voice groaned out, glaring at him through the shared reflection in the glass door.
"But Marc! I've lived here for ages and didn't know this shop was here!" Steven beamed, smiling widely. Thankfully the wireless headphones he had on made him look like he was on the phone, and not completely off his rocker…
Marc ran his hands through his curly black hair. (You have enough books!)
"But this store might have books I don't have!" He pointed out.
(Just let him look, hermano.) Jake sighed, his reflection staring up at Steven from a puddle on the ground.
"Yes, thank you, Jake. At least somebody encourages my hobby!" Steven huffed indignantly at Marc.
(Jake, stop babying him!)
(Hey, nothing wrong with having a hobby?) The man snorted.
Marc rolled his eyes and slumped his shoulders, he directed a tired glare back at Steven.
(You gonna go in or just stare at the front door?) He finally asked.
Steven grinned like an excited boy going into a candy shop.
Marc really needed to have a talk with Jake about this. Steven already had too many books in their flat!
Steven pulled the headphones out of his ears and shoved them in his pocket as he opened the door, nearly jumping when the bell dinged.
He looked around, rather impressed with how much was inside a small space. Steven almost jumped again when the clerk spoke.
"Hi! Welcome to Here Today Books!" She said cheerfully.
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(I'm just saying, Steven… that's too many fucking books.) Marc said, crossing his arms at Steven through the reflection in the window across from his desk, cluttered with papers, folders, and books on various subjects of the Egyptian religious pantheon, architecture, etcetera.
"Oh, hush." Steven hummed, pushing his glasses up his nose as he examined the pages on one of the old books he held in his hand.
(Steven…) Marc sighed, exasperatedly. 
"I know, I know." He sighed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. The stubble there was getting rather coarse. Maybe he could talk Jake out of growing that mustache or goatee he was thinking about…
Steven looked over and picked up the bookmark, sighing deeply as he looked at the gold-tipped rose sealed so lovingly in the plastic. Small vine-luke designs had been penned into the colorful sheet of paper inside the plastic as well.
(Very Beauty and The Beast, no?) Jake mused, his reflection from the mirror on the desk looking at Steven with a cocky grin.
It helped them, they found, to have as many reflective surfaces as possible in their flat; it enabled them to talk to each other simultaneously and "see" one another. Sure they could all talk in the headspace, and when they co-fronted it was almost like they could feel each other; rubbing shoulders, as it were, but sometimes you just needed to see the other person, y'know? Outside of your own head? Shared head? The terms still confused poor Steven, at times.
"I s'pose." He hummed, holding the plastic in his fingers gently, as if it were made of the thinnest glass. Absentmindedly, he pulled the sleeve of his shirt up and looked at the inside of his left wrist.
A mark was there.
A rose, to be precise.
Sometimes it would look like it was wilting, other times it was blooming and vibrant… other times it was closed, not ready to bloom.
Right now, it was somewhere between wilting and blooming. He wasn't sure what it meant. He thought back to Marc's ex-wife, Layla. And how he practically fell head over heels with her when they first met.
He had hoped, with Layla, that she had a corresponding mark… but she didn't. Layla was one of the few who didn't have a mark, or in the very least it hadn't shown up yet. Which isn't entirely implausible… But… something happened. After escaping the Duat, coming back to life, fighting Ammit… finding out about Jake.
They just drifted apart. The sparks that may have been there snuffed out, any hints at romance gone from the equation. They all decided it was better to leave it at that.
Well, at least they were all still on friendly terms, Steven mused. Layla still spoke to he and Marc via phone, or even email. It took Steven forever to convince Marc to ditch that "old dinosaur piece of plastic" he called a phone, and stick with his touch-screen.
Except… Jake. Ah, Jake. Layla never fully trusted him.
(Steven.) Jake said, getting his attention, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"Hm?" He hummed, turning the bookmark over and over in his hand thoughtfully, eyes fluttering back to their mark on their wrist.
(It's my turn tonight.) Jake reminded him softly.
"Oh… right." He cringed. "Bollocks, I hate this…"
(I know, hermanito. But it has to be done, or the bad guys roam free…)
"All right, just… don't let me see any of it, yeah?" Steven sighed, placing the bookmark on the table as he put his hands in his lap.
(Of course.) Jake replied.
Marc stayed silent.
Suddenly, eyes flew closed, the jaw clenched; a bit of a sharp pain fluttered briefly through the brain at the sudden switching. They were getting better at seamless transitions, but sometimes some form of discomfort lingered. The body sat, almost like an empty vessel waiting to be filled. Whether it was five minutes or five seconds, it was unsure. 
When the eyes opened again…
Jake was sitting where Steven sat. Steven's reflection wasn't in the mirror as Jake's had been, previously. He was left alone with Marc staring at him from the inky-black reflection in the window.
(I really hate that we have to do that to him.) Marc sighed, shaking his head.
"He's too gentle for our work, Marc." Jake said, clicking his tongue as he stood, walking over to the wardrobe in the corner and reaching out to grab his old leather coat. "He's too… good."
(I know.) Marc's reflection was in the fishtank now, where Gus the Second was swimming alongside… they really should think of a name for the other two.
Jake tugged the old worn garment on and pulled the gloves out of his jacket pockets with a sharp yank, flexing his fingers as they filled out the soft, well broken-in leather. Lastly, he pulled out that golf cap and slid it on his head, and looked at Marc.
(You don't have to see this, either, Marc.) He said to him.
(Somebody's gotta bear the weight with you, brother.) Marc said intently.
"Gracias por eso, hermano." Jake mumbled, twirling the flat's keys in his fingers as he walked to the front door.
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He sat, kneeling on the rooftop, his body hunched in a way that made him look like a gargoyle, unflinching and unmoving in his gaze; the cape gifted to him flared out almost like a long, tattered set of broken wings.
He wasn’t sure why he decided here of all places was a good place to talk. Why here? What drew him here? Was it the lingering joy and comfort Steven felt when he came in earlier that day?
The sign was hand-painted and in need of a new coat. Flecks of it had chipped away, the exposed wood beneath bleached by years of exposure. But… why was the bookshop important enough to stand outside now?
He looked down below, the curtains were pulled back still in the flat above, old lightbulbs casting a soft, orangish glow to everything inside. He could barely see from this vantage point across the street the boxes of books and book stacks lying on a desk in front of the window. Small knick knacks lined the sills, a hanging plant pot on the outside containing flowers of different kinds, slightly wilted from the lack of sun from the past few days, and now the night.
He stirred when he watched the young woman inside walk to the window in the living room and close the curtains; then tracked her movements as she went about her nightly rituals.
She seemed relaxed. Comfortable. Safe.
She didn't need protection tonight.
He felt the air chill around him, seeping through the wrappings of his armor.
“Jake Lockley.”
There it was. The voice he was waiting for. The voice that always knocked him away from his personal thoughts. The voice that told him of his duties during the night.
Khonshu.
“Yes, father?” Jake asked, standing up, turning to see the large imposing silhouette of a gaunt man, enshrouded in ancient, wispy linen wraps, a tattered shawl hanging from his bony shoulders, clenched in his fist; in place of a head was the dessicated and fleshless bone of a bird skull, small web-like tendrils wafting about here or there. Large, eyeless sockets fixed him in a crushing gaze, the skull tilting in an almost inquisitive manner.
(I wish you’d stop calling him that…) Marc grumbled from within. 
“Have you located the evil-doers I sent you after?” Khonshu’s ancient and ethereal voice grated out.
“Yes. I plan on taking them out tonight.” Jake replied dutifully.
Khonshu tilted his head at Jake, and stood from where he sat on the aircon unit. “Now… Why are you here? This is not where you usually prefer to speak with me.”
“I… don’t know.” Jake admitted softly. “Felt like I had to be here.” 
“Hmm.” The god hummed, stopping to stand next to Jake, looking down at the flat below. “Indeed.”
“Was there… anything else, father?” Jake asked, looking up at him.
“No. You can leave. I will issue new orders when our quarry is dead and dealt with.”
“Of course.” Jake bowed his head, pressing his fist over the moon on his chest; sparing one last glance down at the woman before walking away, leaping to another rooftop with superhuman strength.
Khonshu stayed. Observing, just for a moment longer, at the woman inside the safety of her home. 
“Interesting.” He mused to himself, stamping his staff down and vanishing in a haze of mist.
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Jake panted, pulling one of his darts out of the chest of the man who had tried to previously shoot him just now. He sheathed the weapon and approached the shipping container, hesitating for a moment before smashing the lock open with his bare fist and hauling the heavy doors open.
Inside were half a dozen women and young girls, and children. Some of them naked, others half-dressed. Many of them were dirty and half starved, injuries evident on their poor bodies.
He noticed how they all flinched, backing away from him.
“I won’t hurt you.” He said, in a tone as soft as he could possibly manage, trying to ease their worries. “I’m here to save you.” 
Jake leaned down and pulled the jacket off the dead body of the man he had just killed, stepping over the corpse to the young woman nearest to him. 
She was clad only in her underwear, bruises and track marks lining her body. He draped the jacket over her shoulders, zipping it closed for her as he guided her arms through the sleeves. 
“The police are on their way. You’ll all be safe, soon.” He said, his glowing white eyes fixed in the black abyss of his mask immediately zeroed in on three women, clinging their arms around a group of small children.
The youngest couldn’t have been older than three years old. Her eyes cold, far too ancient and haunted for one so young, clouded by the things she’d been forced to endure for the profit of her traffickers; her tiny body already bearing the scars of the abuse and trauma. Jake’s fist balled at his sides as he forced his breathing to try and calm; adrenaline surging through him again, a hot coal of rage dropping deep into the pit of his stomach.
He wished he could kill them all over again. He wished he could make them all suffer in ways they could barely process for the things they’d done. He wanted to–
His cloak was tugged on, snapping him out of his seething.
He looked down, and a small boy, all skin and bones looked up at him. He looked to be about seven. Could be older, as malnourishment can inhibit growth. His big green eyes looked up at Jake as he wrapped the edge of his cloak around his shoulders like a blanket, his dirty and grimy fingers clinging to the blood-soaked material, seeking comfort he so desperately needed. Jake felt his heart crack in two. He looked almost like...
He closed his eyes for a moment and kneeled, getting as eye level with the boy as he could.
“You’re safe now. They can’t hurt you anymore.” Jake said, his voice quiet, almost broken. He reached for a ratty blanket on the ground and covered the little boy with it, the sight of him covered in a bloody cape almost too much for him to bear. 
He felt his breathing hitch when the little boy smiled up at him, gap-toothed and happy. He handed the boy off to a woman who looked to only be maybe nineteen.
“Stay…” He cleared his throat, looking at everyone within the container, standing back to his full imposing height. 
“Stay here while I make sure it’s safe and I got them all. Someone will be here soon to get you all out of here.”
“Thank you.” One of the women sobbed quietly, clutching onto what looked to be her own child. They looked too similar for them to be anything but related.
Jake turned, his cape flowing out behind him like a white shadow as he stalked into the warehouse beyond, his fists already tight; the spiked knuckles on the back of his hands ready for blows he was all too eager to deliver.
He stepped over bodies, beaten, broken. Lifeless. 
All at his hand. They deserved worse.
The eerie quiet of the cavernous space was only interrupted by the tinkling of chains suspended from the rafters, wind whistling through unseen cracks. 
He could hear the sirens in the distance closing in, but he didn’t relax. He wouldn’t. Not until he was sure.
Not until he knew they were all dead.
Jake’s hands trembled with anticipation as that coal of rage ignited into an inferno, burning hot and low in his belly, sending sparks through his bloodstream. He was so far into that haze of red, he missed the man rushing him with a kabar knife. 
He must have missed that one, the coward was probably hiding the moment the carnage broke out.
The moment he turned, he felt the blade slip easily through the wrappings of his dark armor, piercing the flesh and organs beneath, the pain tearing through his body like a macabre tsunami.
He brought his fist out, slamming the spiked knuckles into the face of the man.
The coppery scent of blood, the crunch of bones and cartilage filled his nose and were deafeningly loud in his ears. He was sure he watched his eyeball dislodge, hanging over the crushed and bloody expanse of his cheek as his body was sent flying into the cargo loader nearby.
The sound of his bones turning almost to powder overpowered the haunting ambience of the dark lair.
Jake marched over to him and gripped him by the shirt, rearing his fist back for another punch, even as his body hung limp in his grasp. 
Only… he couldn’t land the blow. He just couldn’t. It was one thing to kill to protect. But it was another to beat a corpse that he’d already wrought with one blow. His ears picked up the sounds of shouting, sirens, bootfall. A helicopter whirred above, spotlight shining at the carnage below.
He stood, clutching at the knife still sticking out of his side as he dragged his feet, pulling the shell of his body outside, where he was met with armored police officers, wearing what he assumed was some kind of riot gear. The pain in his side was maddening, he almost didn’t hear them demand he kneel. But he did hear a woman cry.
He lifted his gaze to see the woman he’d handed the boy off to; the child still clutched in her arms as they looked over at him, their eyes locking with his.
“He saved us!” She cried.
“Don’t hurt him, please!” Another shouted.
“He’s a nice man!” A child sobbed, clinging to the emergency blanket around her frail body.
Jake felt like he could cry, he felt his heart swell to bursting; not able to tear his gaze away from the innocents he’d saved, that he killed for. Not even when one of the officers approached him, gripping his elbow to keep him steady.
The older man sighed, unable to cuff the man that the human trafficking victims were shouting and crying accolades for. Even if he apparently killed all these monsters bare-handed. “Come on, lad. Let’s get you looked at. We can’t leave that knife in ya.” 
“I’m fine.” Jake mumbled, looking at the ground. His shoulders slumped.
“Like hell you are.” The officer turned and shouted for a medic.
“Perdóname, mi corazón." Jake muttered to himself. To someone else.
But as the man carrying the equipment bag jogged towards him, Jake gripped the handle of the knife and wrenched it free in one tug, blood spurting from the wound.
“Good God!” The officer gasped, reaching out to press his hand over the gushing wound. “Are you insane, boy?”
“Yes.” Jake mumbled, pulling his hand away from him, with gentle care that betrayed the violence his bloody fingers had wrought mere moments ago. He felt the wound close, the magic and blessed armor already performing its duty. Just as he had, so violently.
Jake straightened his posture as the medic and the officers backed away in a strange mixture of fascination, horror, and awe.
“Who… what are you?” The medic breathed.
Jake turned away, his gaze to the sky.
“I’m Moon Knight.”
And with that final goodbye, he leapt up, disappearing into the blackness and depths of the night, his heart heavy but relieved, cloak streaking across the shadows, as if to chase them away.
Chapter 3: Link
187 notes · View notes
torscrawls · 14 days
Text
They a Bit Confused, but They Got the Spirit
Maddie and Jack are ready to support Danny now that he's become a half-human, even though he's not ready to talk to them about it yet. He's so lucky that he has such observant and caring parents! They'll do anything they can to make sure he feels accepted and that he knows they love him no matter what, especially since turning into a werewolf must have been so scary.
Wordcount: 1,344
Can be read on AO3!
This is written as a part of Phic Phight for the prompt: Jack and Maddie knew something supernatural was going on with their son, waiting for him to feel comfortable telling them they set out to help him in subtler ways. If only they had actually gotten the species right.
——
“Maybe we should just tell him that we know?” Jack asked one night after they had watched Danny stumble up the stairs and to his room with badly hidden injuries. “This is the fifth time this month.”
Maddie bit her lip with furrowed brows. “I’m not sure he would be open with us if we cornered him like that. We really should wait for him to come to us…” She trailed off, the last few words sounding less than certain.
Jack let out a deep sigh. He knew she was right, but it was so hard to stay silent and just watch their son go through something that was no doubt very scary and disorienting. To not be there for him. Especially since it wasn’t something that was going away any time soon. Speaking of, “I think it actually might be getting worse. Have you seen how his ears have changed?”
The change had been gradual, but as his ears grew distinctly tapered and more inhuman his attempts at keeping them hidden with his slightly too short hair started to fail. Jack had begun to worry that he might have a hard time keeping his condition a secret in school—kids could be unnecessarily cruel—and had given Danny a new NASA-branded hat. He felt more accomplished as a parent than he had in years when Danny had worn it the very next day.
Maddie nodded before biting at her thumb. “Yes, and his nails… And teeth!”
Jack heaved a deep sigh and grimaced. He had seen them too; long and sharp, both nails and teeth. “He’s been trying to hide them too.”
Maddie shook her head. “Our poor baby. He must be so scared. Wasn’t it enough with the late nights and the fights, and—”
Jack placed a hand on her shoulder and she cut herself off with a shaky breath. He drew her into a hug and murmured into her hair, “But he has us now. We’ll support him, no matter what.”
Maddie nodded and leaned back to look up at him with a determined look in her eyes that reminded him of why he fell in love with her in the first place, “Let’s make sure he knows it.”
Jack agreed. He hated that Danny felt that he had to keep the whole thing a secret from them but he and Maddie had decided to support him as best they could until he felt comfortable telling them about his sudden change into a half-human.
They would do their best to support their son even though he had been transformed into a werewolf.
——
It was later that night, with Maddie and Danny setting the table with Jack cooking at the stove, when Maddie decided to try and take the first step. ”Danny, I know how much you like space. And… and the moon.
Danny put out the plates with a distracted, “Yeah, sure?”
“You know…” Maddie began, trailing off as she wasn't sure how much she should reveal that they knew. The last thing she wanted was to scare him even further away from them. “There's a full moon coming up next week.”
Danny immediately perked up, his full attention on her. “Oh, I know!” he smiled, plates seemingly forgotten in his hands. “I’m going to go watch it with Sam and Tuck.”
That made Maddie pause, hand hovering over the table where she had been reaching for the last ectogun to put away before their meal. Maddie cast a glance over her shoulder, meeting Jack's equally surprised one. Danny's friends were involved in this too? She carefully asked, “Oh, with your friends?”
Maddie picked up the gun and twirled it in her hands as she decided to be a bit bolder in her approach. If Danny's friends knew, then he was surely more comfortable talking about this than they had thought. Maybe he had just thought that they wouldn't listen. “So… They know?”
Danny put out the last plate and started on the cutlery. “About the moon? I sure hope so.”
“No…” Maddie fingered the gun in her hands. “About you?”
Danny snorted. “That I like space? Yeah, I think it’s pretty hard to miss.”
Maybe he wasn't ready to talk with them just yet. That was fine, they could wait. “Never mind. I’m happy you have friends you can trust.”
Danny smiled at her. “Me too.” Then he paused with a small frown, “Wait, what do you mean trust—”
Jack turned from the stove with a steaming, bubbling, pot and a shout of, “Dinner’s ready!”
“That looks amazing, honey!” Maddie kissed Jack on the cheek before calling up the stairs, “Jazz, honey! Come down! It’s time to eat!”
“I made sure to make your steak extra bloody, Danny-boy!” Jack said with a wink as he deposited the big pot on the table and turned back around to whisk a frying pan with steaks from the stove.
Danny raised an eyebrow. “Uuuuh, why? I like them well-done. I always have?”
Maddie placed a hand on his shoulder and said, voice as reassuring as she could make it, “It’s okay if your tastes change, you know.”
“We would support you,” Jack added with a smile and a thumbs up as he pushed aside the blueprints to the new gun they had been developing to finally catch that menace Phantom to place the pan on the table.
Danny frowned as he slowly said, “Thanks? That’s great to know.”
Maddie mentally patted herself on the back. They were making progress!
Jazz came into the kitchen and surveyed the set table, eying the green bubbling pot in the middle with a critical eye. “Oh, you’re not done with the experiments for today? I thought dinner was ready?”
Maddie waved her off with a chuckle. “No, that's just the potatoes, silly.”
Jazz grimaced as she sat down. “Right. Of course.”
They finished eating—both of their kids must have eaten too many snacks again since they barely touched the food—and as they were cleaning up Jack hesitantly asked, “So, Danny-boy. Do you want a bone?”
“What?” Danny glanced up from his phone. “I have enough bones myself, thanks?”
Maddie straightened up, fascinated. “Oh, you have a stash? Can I see it?”
Danny slowly put his phone down with a confused frown. “…Yeah? It’s called my body?”
“In your…? Ah!” Maddie laughed. “No, to eat.”
Danny squinted at her. “Why would I want to… eat a bone?”
“You know…” Jack trailed off, gesturing vaguely in the hope that Danny would catch on and they wouldn’t have to spell it out and put him on the spot.
Danny didn't seem to catch on as he slowly said, “No? I don't know?”
“For your…” Jack hesitated and sent a pleading look at Maddie but she only gestured for him to continue. It was best if they really showed that they were there for him through all of these changes. Jack took a breath and finished with—according to Maddie—admirable casualness, “Condition.”
“My what?!” Danny exclaimed in clear bafflement. The poor dear, he had probably thought that he had managed to keep it a secret from them. It wasn't his fault that she and Jack were very observant.
Maddie decided to jump in and try and sooth him. “Oh, honey, it's okay! We love you no matter what.” She gave him what she hoped was a supportive look and added, “No matter what you turn into.”
Danny gaped at her. “Wait, you know?!”
Jazz placed a hand on Danny's shoulder and squeezed. “I told you they would understand.”
“Yeah!” Jack added with vigorous nodding. “It's okay that you're a werewolf!”
Danny blinked. “I'm not a—”
Jack cut him off with a shout, “At least you're not a damned ghost!”
Maddie shook her head in horror. That would be… Unimaginable. “And thank god for that!”
“I'm a werewolf!” Danny admitted with a vigorous nod, clearly relieved to finally come clean to them. “Bark bark! Awoo!”
Jazz removed her hand from Danny’s shoulder and slapped it over her own face.
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the-tragic-heroine · 1 year
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Haitani Brothers Analysis
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While the Haitani brothers didn’t get as much screen time in the series as many fans would probably like, we did get a small glimpse into their characters during the main events of the manga and some extra content in the character books—enough for me to reasonably speculate on some things. As always, these are just my own thoughts, and you are more than welcome to disagree with me.
**THIS ANALYSIS CONTAINS SPOILERS!**
Neither Ran nor Rindou actually enjoy fighting that much.
In the main series, they don’t have an actual clear reason for participating in the gang wars. They even state stuff like “well, I guess we have to” before entering the battlefield
Whenever they are beat up they very readily accept defeat.
They fight very unfairly, with Ran using his baton to beat up opponents while Rindou holds them still and breaks their bones. Once they are separated, they lose quite easily. If they really enjoyed fighting, they likely a) wouldn’t be using these underhanded methods at all and b) wouldn’t be this bad on their own.
Both of Rindou’s extra stories in the character book involve being unwillingly dragged into some kind of conflict.
EDIT: I was mulling over this point and I think I mean to say that while they do like fighting, because it’s clear they do have fun beating people up, they don’t CARE about fighting the way some of the others do. Eg, those who fight to protect, those who fight for a cause, those who fight because they have a passion for it, etc.
This is pretty much where the similarities between the two brothers end, though. So, if they don’t care about fighting, why are they even delinquents in the first place? What do they care about?
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Ran cares about maintaining an image.
Rindou talks about being annoyed about Ran trying to strike ‘cool’ poses when fighting
His special skill is “presenting himself in a favorable light”
In CB3, his profile states that Ran wants to be a celebrity and he enjoys getting his hair done at beauty salons
In fact, he tends to talk out of his ass, shown in his conversation with the hairdresser and…what he says about music here…
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The two living in Roppongi makes even more sense, as it is a very high-end district
However, with that being said, there are a few additional pieces of information that may strike people as rather odd, as they seem a bit contradictory to what we are led to believe Ran is like.
His hobby is sleeping, he likes staying in bed, and his special talent is sleeping 24 hours in one go
In Rindou’s story, Ran was so pissed off at getting woken up because of his party that he got violent
What this reminds me of are my interactions with people who tell me that their hobbies involve clubbing and drinking, only for them to admit later on that they don’t actually like doing those things at all and would much rather be at home. Instead, these hobbies are simply a means to make up for something that they are lacking: something like, human connection, self-esteem, etc. In Ran’s case, delinquency—because what it got him was an army of followers in Roppongi that he and his brother can command. In the delinquent world, he is that celebrity he wants to be.
When Kakucho invited them to join Tenjiku, their conditions to accepting were that their uniforms be a different colour than the rest. Izana beat him up because that made them stand out more.
We don’t get much more info beyond this, but I think there’s some valid reason to believe that, like many who choose to surround themselves with material possessions, he is merely putting up a front to cover up a deep-rooted insecurity. Perhaps one that developed in an environment full of wealthy elites that is difficult to stand out in.
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Rindou cares about his brother.
This might take a little more explanation because sibling love-hate relationships are complicated, and like Ran a lot of Rindou’s character traits are contradictory, but there are a few things that make this evident both in the series and the character book.
Rindou’s interests are DJing and martial arts, the latter of which is quite known for promoting stuff like peace, respect, etc unlike Rindou’s delinquent tendencies
Again, both of his stories involve being dragged into conflict he didn’t wanna be a part of. Kakucho once invited him to train, which Rindou thought was weight lifting, only to be brought to a Yakuza hideout. Rindou vowed never to hang out with him again.
He is actually ranked 2nd best boyfriend and 2nd least vicious in Tenjiku, which would strike people as odd considering his special technique in combat is literally breaking bones
All of this should make Rindou a pretty chill guy but he isn’t. Instead he follows his brother into gang wars, gets sent to prison, and in the Bonten timeline gets involved in criminal activity. While we don’t see him or his brother really doing anything during this arc, I think that itself (just standing and watching) tells us enough about how they feel being a part of it. So, we get into the next key part of Rindou’s character book profile.
Rindou’s most feared/disliked person is Ran
In his second story, he locks himself in the bathroom to avoid Ran’s angry outburst and has to buy him Mont Blanc to appease him
I don’t think Ran is abusive in the way Taiju was toward the Shiba household, because in their interactions it’s quite clear that they do care about one another and are comfortable enough together. They always stick together throughout alliance changes, their signature technique involves teamwork, and are in the same business owning a club in the final ending.
Instead, I think it’s clear that Ran was a pretty terrible influence to Rindou. I think he was pulled into this pretty early on due to circumstance and was unable to get out because he didn’t know much else—again, because of Ran’s influence as the older brother. Otherwise, I don’t think he’d have chosen this path voluntarily.
There isn’t much else for me to use to make more speculations on Rindou’s character, but I think based on all that info he really just seems like a big himbo on the inside. All the dude wants is to make music and get buff. Also, probably a tsundere, because it seems that he calls Ran “aniki” in public but “niichan” in private. So cute!!
Anyways, I think that’s it for now! I typed this all up in one sitting so I hope I didn’t miss anything. If you have any input do feel free to comment as I love these boys and am always looking to read more headcanons and scenarios with them!
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frownyalfred · 1 month
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Narratively speaking, when should the batkids be able to beat Batman single-handedly? Sure, Cass can do it already and Dick is seen as above or on Batman's level but what are your thoughts on this? It's always hard to do this stupid power level stuff because the character you want to win is obviously gonna win, but you still have to show that Batman is this super ubermensch martial artist who always has a plan and whose goal is to make his kids surpass him but then how do you do that? When can you say, "yeah Batman's cool and all but [enter batkid's name] would totally wipe the floor with the old man if they were to fight 1v1"? This is extremely exaggerated but you get what I mean, right?
I'm genuinely fascinated by this question and I thought I could just ask you.
Thanks!😀
Yeah, it’s all biased like you pointed out since we all want our special blorbo to be the most special blorbo, even in situations where the logic gets pretty thin.
The thing with Bruce is, in his prime, he’s a god-tier fighter for multiple reasons. He’s got insane training under his belt, he’s at or above peak physical human conditioning, he’s trained to think strategically about combat, he’s fast for his size (despite his size), and he’s BIG.
The last one is so important. He’s anywhere from 6’ to 6’4, 190 to 240 lbs of muscle, etc. He’s not losing to most people in a fair fight! And he’s definitely not losing to someone much shorter and lighter than him when it comes to sheer power.
What’s interesting about the comics is that they largely argue that Bruce losing these 1v1s comes down to skill and experience. Cass trained for years to be a weapon, and her advanced training is what supposedly tips the scales in her favor. Same thing with Damian. Bruce makes the argument that enough training can create conditions for his Robins to surpass him, like you mentioned.
But is that actually a fair determinator of a fight? Can most if not all advantages Bruce might have in a fight with a woman half his size be overcome by volume or rigor of training?
It’s the comics, so the answer changes depending on what’s intriguing and fun. We can oscillate between Bruce being the ultimate overpowered fighter who can’t ever lose and Bruce getting his ass handed to him by his kids because it all comes down to power ranking, which is SO subjective.
Should the Batkids be able to beat him? In my opinion, not when he’s in his prime and it’s a fair fight. That isn’t me saying that they can’t win 1v1 through skill, misdirection, getting lucky, etc.
That’s not me trying to shit on female fighters either. Dick carrying 30-40 lbs less muscle than Bruce puts him at a disadvantage too. Jason being the same weight but not as fast/nimble puts him at a disadvantage to Bruce. Damian being a child fighting an adult will ALWAYS result in an unbalanced fight.
If you’ve ever squared up with a heavier, larger, more skilled opponent — especially if you’re a woman and they’re a man — one of the first things you have to learn is that, when it comes to pure strength, you cannot hope to win. It is an inherent advantage, and why we have weight classes for fighting.
Your goal is to figure out a way to get around that advantage. To be smarter, or faster. We teach women about throws and the benefits of having a lower center of gravity. We teach kids the benefits of being flexible or smaller in certain holds. Things like that.
But comics aren’t real life. The better question is, have we overpowered Bruce in a way that makes taking him down a peg or two somewhat difficult or implausible? How can we better show his flaws and complexity as a character when the stakes get set too high?
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transzilla · 1 month
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Need a sub who is going to let me forcemasc him and kick his fucking ass like 80s rough trade style. Like some real neanderthal low IQ bdsm. Like I want to put him in the hospital. LMAO
You like a dom when it's one of your skinny fucking chainsmoking cis boys, like you honestly think you're hard because you let some skateboarder who can't lift a spare tire smack you around a little bit.
Your problem is that you're scared because you don't know what pain is. So believe me when I say I'm going to teach you what pain is.
I am literally on steroids and I do this shit for my own enjoyment.
Have you ever been hit in your liver? Like right on your ribs, a real body shot? It's like somebody lights you on fucking fire from the inside out and your whole body burns worse and worse by the millisecond. And you can taste it. Like I'm making you suck on some pennies. Lmao.
When your nose bleeds it will taste bad but you should be fine provided it doesn't obstruct your breathing. When your nose gets broken, that sinus fracture won't hurt right away from the adrenaline but as soon as it wears off it hurts like fucking hell and you can't touch it without it crunching or cracking around under your skin. You will feel nauseous and then fucking sick at the way your face breaks in ways you didn't know was possible, pieces of your inner cheekbone breaking and getting loose in your eye socket, the devil's own human anatomy lesson. When you get knocked out by getting punched in the face you think you're fine for the first half second but when the momentum catches up and your brain hits the other side of your skull in your head it's good night from there. And after you come to your face will be valentine's red and pink and swollen and nigh unrecognizable and from there is just going to turn so many pretty colors you'll look like a goddamn renaissance painting.
I'm going to make you scared that you're gonna die. And then you're gonna be scared that you might not.
You can complain, you can scream, you can beg, try to run, try to fight back, hold your hands up, there's honestly no point because you know you're going to take it and you know you like it because I say you will so you will. You're a faggot. There is something wrong with you. If you didn't come to me to try to fuck you would have just spent your time trying to run away from the first chucklefuck who knew how to fight and had a problem with you. You made it clear that this is how you accept love, so I will make you wear it on your face.
I am not going to afford you the ability to hide behind a mild, vanilla, effeminate or weak front. I am going to hurt you so badly your friends and your family and your significant other can't even bear to look at you without feeling your pain as badly as you felt it. They can't hold your perfect pretty girly face in their mind anymore, even after you eventually heal your nose has been bent into a new shape and the symmetry your teeth grew into has been rearranged into a haunted graveyard of broken and missing teeth like tombstones. And you can't exploit their safe conditional acceptance anymore. And you have to find a way to live as an ugly fucked up man when you can't get by looking pretty and doing nothing.
And idk maybe after I'll let you suck my dick a little bit.
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