#realized i have no fucking clue how to draw norm.
Text
woe norm practice doodle page be upon ye
#realized i have no fucking clue how to draw norm.#havent drawn him in ages#at least not fully#my art#art#illustrations#queer artists#queer artist#trans artist#doodles#fanart#dialtown fanart#dialtown phone dating sim#dialtown#dialtown norm#norm dialtown#norm allen#dialtown norm allen#norm allen dialtown#loser_art.png#fav#savetag
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
When I started therapy, I was actually hung up on the fact that I didn't seem to have ever experienced dysphoria, which is a lie that has its origins in part in the fact I had no fucking clue what dysphoria actually is. I've since found that it's actually kinda hard to explain, and that's why these narratives that dysphoria is when trans people are revulsed by their body and agab, or when they "hate" their past self, persist. It's also why these "trapped in" bodies and "wrong" bodies narratives exist.
Like. I'm in my body. My body is my body. My consciousness isn't in another person's body; it's in my own. And I know myself. I know myself well enough to know that I am not a woman despite society telling me that my bits, pieces, and parts "make" me one. And how else do I explain this to someone with no frame of reference for this? I liken it to "Freaky Friday," despite the fact that's- technically- what it isn't? It’s like having an out-of-body experience. You're looking at your body. You know it's your body. But there's also a disconnect. Something's missing, and something's there that makes no sense.
I also don't think I could ever hate the girl my parents tried to raise or the woman I wanted so desperately to be. That wouldn't be very kind to me. She really tried her damnedest. And she's not "dead" because she's a vital part of my past. I, quite technically, wouldn't be trans if "she" never existed. I'd be a cis man if I was never afab. "Trans" is an important part of my lived reality.
Was I ever a "girl"? A part of me still has no idea. I know I truly believed I was, but the reasons I believed I was weren't healthy.
I held on to a lot of sex-essentialist ideas for a good portion of my youth. Why? It was all that connected me to the identity society and my family was trying to raise me into. When my cousin gifted me a uterus pin with the words "Women's rights" on it, I wore it proudly. It was a very tenuous connection to womanhood, and it was a connection I needed to critically rethink when my mother and grandmother were both diagnosed with cervical cancer (I was 11). I knew that it ran in my family and that, one day, I might need to go through the same surgery they did just to live.
I asked my mom what connected her to womanhood, and she replied: motherhood. I was never, ever going to be a mother, so I returned to the drawing board. I asked my grandmother what connected her to womanhood, and she replied: standing up to violent men and men who denied her and other women the opportunity to work; community. And I realized that I had never been extended the same community my grandmother always had been. Part of the disconnect I felt was due to violence (sexual and not) I had experienced in single-sex, "women's only" spaces. Girls in "girl's only" spaces made it clear that I was not welcome, and, at the time, I didn't understand why they singled me out and picked on me.
Even though my family was trying to raise me as a girl, the society around me saw me as nothing more than a "failed" girl. I was an "unwoman," not "woman enough," for reasons such as what I preferred to wear. But it's not like in marking me as "unwoman," they made me into a man, far from it. They sorted me- on the basis of my queerness- into some other third category. Something of a eunuch.
And it seemed like the only thing I had was some sex-essentialist, cisgender pretense (I absolutely loved the linked blog post as I found it quite striking, even though I was *never* trans-exclusionary, and I never supported those ideas about trans people) to sort of reassure myself that I belonged in society. Every time I usurped or rebelled against our sex/gender norms, I would work to distract myself from how I constructed my body into a binary and thus ignore how being made into a girl was wrong for me. I literally disconnected myself from parts of my internal self & internal thoughts, and I denied myself the opportunity to construct an identity. I was constantly gaslighting myself and consistently engaged in thought-stopping. In part because I was terrified of being "different."
I so desperately wanted to be just like every other girl that I ignored the fact that I likely never was (and that there is no such thing as universal woman/girlhood). With that realization, I could hear the words of my school-yard bullies from years ago, words which, it seems, many trans masc people have heard in their lifetime, "What's wrong? We're all girls here, aren't we? We're all alike."
I've been unable to recognize my own dysphoria because I have spent my whole life purposefully ignoring and distracting myself from those moments of "huh. something's off." I spent some 23 years of my life essentially disassociating from myself (I'm 26 now). I felt detached from my body and detached from the world around me. It felt as if everyone else was moving, but I was floating in place. I disconnected myself from my thoughts and emotions in an attempt to be accepted by a society that finds queerness disgusting.
I literally felt like I was watching my life and body unfold without my consent rather than me unfolding it myself. So, I liken my experience to "Freaky Friday" because that's also what it is.
#TW: depersonalisation#TW: assault#TW: dissociation#TW: transphobia#this is what therapy is for#It’s been healing to start to recognize what moments are dysphoria#Which might seem counterintuitive#Like. Why would I want to learn to recognize the moments of distress that come from an incongruence between my identity & body?#It’s so that I can better address them#And learn better coping mechanisms to deal with my mental distress#Help lessen some of my internal self-perception issues (very hard on myself mentally & not physically)#Helps me identify mental self-harm#Mental self-harm is not a way to process my distress. It only stresses me further 😅#Gender journey
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
Go
So, since this is turning into a legit, long as fuck fic, I’m gonna go ahead and make it its own masterlist for parts and junk! Keep em all together!
CW: Slightly risque implications, dreams, predator/prey. Nothing EXPLICIT, but there’s a definite hint there.
Last part: Here
First part: Here
"Alright, so what do we do about that? If they're looking for a game, how are we supposed to play?" One of your friends asked through the phone. You had just called them to share your realization of what might be going on, and now that they'd gotten their profuse apologies out of the way, it was on to problem-solving.
"I don't know," You admitted, "We could use a Ouija board?" That idea was swiftly shot down.
"Oh no, we already got you into this mess by playing with something occult. No more." Your second friend said from the driver's seat you presumed.
"Yeah, let's not open any more doors. If we use a Ouija board, we'd just be begging for something with no guarantee it'd be the creature we want." The first pointed out, making you sigh and flop your head back onto the back of the couch,
"So what do you guys suggest then?" You asked, only being met with the background hum of the car's air conditioning for a moment,
"We...don't have a clue," the friend holding the phone sighed, "But, I mean, at least we know what they're doing?" You nodded at that, but none of you had anything else to help with the situation, so you just ended the call.
With a sigh, you decided to just lay down on the couch to wait for your friends to show up, which is how you supposed you dozed off.
One minute, you were lazily watching television under a blanket to try and fight off a chilly patch that bled through your cover and you were ninety percent sure was from your pet demon having their hand on that spot over your thigh like they had your ankle the night you got pulled around in bed, the next, you heard those male whispers once more.
"...play a game..." you caught for a second while you laid there with your eyes still closed. Some part of you registered that the speaker wasn't familiar, but like your comprehension, it was a fleeting, dreamy thought. Almost as soon as you had a grasp on it, all you had was a gut feeling.
"....what game?... Challenge...." Were the next snippets to be picked from the snarl of vaguely conversational noises that seemed to circle you, finally seeming to pull you from your sleep. Only for you to find yourself not on the couch.
Instead of laying on your friends' couch with the television on, you were in a proper bed, in a proper bedroom that was full of deep reds and dark blacks. Pushing yourself up to your elbows assured you that the expensive-feeling sheets were real, and so was the way the mattress dipped on one side, snapping your attention to that side.
However, instead of finding nothing, like all of the other times you'd felt something out of the norm, your eyes were met this time with a pale man with equally light, silver hair that was messy enough to allow a chunk to drift down into his face ever so slightly, but more purposely. Though, it wasn't until you seemed to register the pair of haunting pale silver eyes and smile that you realized he was seemingly leaning so close that his nose almost touched yours, which made you lean back a bit in response.
"Well! If it isn't our looovely summoner!" He chirped, "So nice to meet you, we've been getting impatient waiting for you to start a game." Those words sent a bucket of sudden realization over your skin, like when you realize you'd left something important at home. "Yeah! Not very nice of you," he finished, and while he sounded almost like he was joking, you felt like you were rightfully scolded.
"That's why we've been trying to encourage you." A second voice, naturally, spoke, drawing your attention to the other side of the bed, where the first demon's near-perfect clone stood, only having a frown in place of the first one's smile.
"But, you're hard-headed, and we can only entertain ourselves for so long. So!" Once more, your attention was demanded by the smiling twin, who'd pointedly flopped down to lay his head in your lap, "We decided to quit with the beginners level games, and move up a rank. And each time you fail to give us a proper challenge, rules, and rewards, we'll just keep going up a level until you're either so corrupted that your soul can no longer escape, or willing to hold up your end of the request." The demon- Emmet- explained.
He had never mentioned even having a name, yet you knew that the inhuman being smiling up at you from your lap was named Emmet, the same way you just knew that the game they were going to play was going to cost you more than some disheveled sheets and a racing heart.
"Not to worry though, unless you start the game properly, your soul is not up for grabs," The other one, Ingo, explained in his less outwardly-predatory tone,
"You'll get to the count of three," Emmet said, and when you looked over to him, he was by a door that led out of your room without even seeming to move. With that, the twins walked out of the room, leaving you to mutely sit in the bed for what felt like five, long minutes before jumping up and beginning to look around.
You didn't think as you searched, any thoughts that passed you being merely floating blips of ideas and realizations, but you knew that the door to your room was locked, and you needed either a key or a separate way out. Luckily, you ended up finding that alternate exit in the form of a floor-level vent that was big enough for you to crawl through. So, with hands shaking from a palpable urge to get out, you slid the vent grate aside and slipped inside, having the forethought to close the vent back like it had been so that it wasn't obvious you'd gone through it. Then, you crawled as fast as your leaden, shaky limbs could carry you.
When you finally emerged from your little tunnel, you were in some form of office, standing behind a desk littered with papers, and keenly aware that your time was up.
You vaguely did your best to not knock anything on the desks over as you made your way across the room to the door. You tore it open and bolted out into the concrete hallway that laid beyond.
You had no clue where your pursuers were, but you knew that you wanted very badly to get out. Or...did you? Focusing on the vague knowledge of what would happen if you got caught told you that your fate would be to be tormented and devoured, but...you weren't entirely scared of that fate. Instead, it just made your body temperature seemingly rise, which in turn made the vivid feeling of your feet hitting the cold concrete feel heavier. Until, finally, you slowed to a stop.
Now, instead of a simple concrete hall, you were in some form of a maintenance tunnel. Like that of a subway, maybe. Though, you were reminded that you weren't alone there when you heard a snickering from somewhere in the distance. Looking around brought you nothing in the way of telling where Emmet was, but your gut screamed that he was close. As if he were tracking the thundering panic of your heart.
So, thinking quickly, you did your best to slow that heart rate to a volume he couldn't easily hear and walked down the hall until a thrill of adrenaline brought to your attention that a door was registered in your sleepy brain.
Once more, your hands shook as you grabbed the handle, opened the door, and casually walked into the forest that was just outside. You were free.
Your blood thrummed with the melancholy of relief, disappointment, and exhilaration, a smile spread across your face, and you could've sworn you would fly away. You'd won!
Just then, your blood ran cold at the sing-song exclamation of your name from behind you, and you didn't need to look to know that Emmet was right there. No, you knew that your only chance was to take off once more. To fight the drag against your limbs that seemed to almost pull you back into the clutches of the demon and run like a rabbit being chased by a demonic twin. Twin.
Just in the knick of time, you dodged Ingo's attempt to tackle you from the cover of the trees, how had you forgotten him? And, hooking a harsh left, you pushed yourself on. Even with both creatures now after you, when your body ached from all of the running and the force of your adrenaline-fuelled heartbeat, your panic, and thrill, carried you through the vague forest, the duo of spirits hot on your tail.
Then, just like that, you felt something hit your back, the force of their combined weight knocking you to your stomach and sending you almost sliding across the ground. Though, that didn't stop them from hooking their arms around your waist and trapping you in them.
"You lost, my dear." Ingo hummed, his voice dripping with dark, predatory amusement to match his brother's when Emmet added,
"You're ours now~"
Then. like a rude splash of ice water, the opening of the front door tore you from your dream. Your eyes flew open in an instant, launching yourself off of the couch in a bleary jolt of panic or embarrassment to face the two people who'd just entered the home.
"Are you alright?" One asked as your brain trickled back from whatever trip to wonderland you'd just taken and you were quick to nod,
"Yeah, just fell asleep on the couch. Got startled awake." You assured, not mentioning how you could still feel the lingering sensation of arms around you.
#Ingo x reader x emmet#pokemon#Pokemon black and white#pokemon x reader#demon submas#ingo#emmet#demons#submas#monsters
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Straight as Silly String
So, it’s only been within the last year and a half or so that I’ve started to realize I am both gray-romantic and Bisexual. I’ve always either been in denial or just had no fucking clue because queer terms are still things I’m learning.
Anyway, on this journey, I’ve noticed something that’s really starting to piss me off. And just what is that?
Well, it’s the notion hammered into us that the character cast of any given media source is Straight until proven Queer. and it pisses me the hell off!
Example? Well, have you ever written a fic or draw a pic of a same-sex ship and someone comments something like “How can you ship that?! There’s no canon evidence they’re gay!”
I always just agreed or don’t respond because I don’t have the mental energy to fight it. But what I always want to say is “Well, there’s no canon evidence they’re straight either!” when a character doesn’t have a canon relationship. Or if they do have a canon relationship, I find myself wanting to say “well, you don’t know that they’re not not Bi!”.
Why is it that every character has to be explicitly straight until there’s canon evidence of being queer?
Why can’t characters with unspecified orientations be whatever the fan wants them to be until their orientation is given (or even when an orientation is given. tastes change, after all)?
Want another example? Let’s use Team Fortress 2 for this but it applies to all fandoms.
You have two teams of 9 mercs. 8 of which are proven to be men with the 9th (Pyro) left ambiguous of gender. Together, two teams of 9 mercs make for a total of 18 mercs trapped and isolated in a tiny, geographic location for a minimum of 6 years.
Now only 2 out of 9 mercs, Spy and Scout, canonly have relationships where they are in love with women. Before you say anything, yes it is mentioned that Medic has/had a wife. But it’s the late 60′s/early 70′s. At that time, just because two people were in a heterosexual marriage did not automatically mean that every married couple was straight. Lots of marriages were gay/bi men marrying lesbians/bi women in order to keep up a hetero-normative front so they weren’t the outcasts of society. In Medic’s case, he was already close enough to being on the fringes of society. Given how he is obviously queer-coded, he would have to be careful about being anything other than straight if he wanted to work and have a livelihood before Mann Co.
Anyway, you’re trying to tell me that statistically out of 18 mercs, no one’s queer? That sounds like bullshit to me!
There is no way that you can convince me that 18 dudes (I’m Californian, “dude” is gender neutral) away from the prying eyes of social norms aren’t gonna start forming queer or queer-platonic relationships of some kind.
*Spoilers for the TF2 comics ahead, derp*
I’ll use a classic example of a fan favorite: Heavy/Medic
Two middle-age mercs who are basically the mom and dad of the team. They canonly have a deep “friendship” that can be seen both in the comics and the game. These two spend a lot of time together, they work well together, and they sort of complete each other. They are protective of each other and neither can be properly happy without the other.
In game, when one player dominates another, their character will tease and taunt the other player’s character. And yet, Heavy and Medic don’t have dominations lines towards each other.
Medic is one of the most fucked-up, sadistic mercs out of the bunch. Seems suspicious to me that he of all people wouldn’t want the pleasure of dominating and jeering someone as strong as Heavy. But, if Medic is romantically involved with Heavy, he’d be much less inclined to jeer his lover’s doppleganger.
And then there’s Heavy. He’s a sensitive man with a big heart despite his honestly frightening love of combat. But he’s softest towards family. His devotion to those that he loves is total. In the comic, the devastation he feels after Medic is murdered is total as well.
This man literally does not want to live without his Medic.
Bringing back the picture from earlier:
Their reunion is heartfelt. Moving on, Heavy immediately praises Medic ingenuity, just as he always does. And lets be real, I have never seen a person pour so much high praise on their platonic friend as constantly as Heavy praises Medic. Heavy can’t go like two minutes without saying how much he loves Medic, or how smart Medic is, or how skilled Medic is. There is just like a never ending stream of adoration that Heavy has for his precious German.
Also, at this point Medic has spent the past several comics being constantly verbally abused by the enemy, Classic!Heavy. Most of the time resulting in Medic being uncharacteristically docile and submissive. But around TF2!Heavy, Medic regains his cold, cruel ingenuity and confidence; becoming the force to be reckoned with that he’s known for.
The two complete each other both emotionally and in combat.
THERE NO WAY IN HELL YOU CAN CONVINCE ME THESE TWO AREN’T GAY AS FUCK!
The mercs are social outcasts. But working for Mann Co. allows them to be themselves away from the judging eyes of normal society. It only makes sense that most if not all of them would be queer, especially in a place where they could be safe in their identities.
So, why should we as a fandom have to believe that they’re all straight just because they don’t have canon queer labels? Especially when a canonly queer character exists in universe.
May I present Ms. Pauling! She’s the boys’ boss. She takes good care of them and she is very clearly gay.
You can see this clearly when Soldier and Zhanna are running around naked and covered in honey. Meanwhile, Ms. Pauling looks like this as she watches them.
It is confirmed several times over that Ms. Pauling is extremely tired of seeing Soldier naked. That means that she is clearly being entranced by the vision of Zhanna naked.
No straight woman has ever looked at another woman like this.
Ms. Pauling is definitely gay.
So, yeah, if one character is obviously queer but not explicitly labeled as such, then why can’t all the characters be queer? And why can’t characters be queer without an obviously queer character in canon? Why must all characters be straight unless proven otherwise?
It’s a stupid and toxic narrative that only contributes to shipping wars.
Why should a narrative that’s not even canon be allowed to overpower our personal headcanons?
We need to start allowing people to headcanon sexual orientations for fictional characters.
#Spectral Decree || Wraith Queen's Discussion Topics#team fortess 2#tf2#queer community#queer commentary#queer topics#lgbt community#lgbt commentary#lgbt topic#tf2 medic#tf2 heavy#heavy/medic#ms pauling#fandom discussion#tf2 discussion
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love After the Fact Chapter 56: Sex Education Part 1
In which Thace is medically certified to run a sex ed program and Keith is an unwilling pupil with a splash of Galran societal norms and pressures
Warning: Discussions of sex, but like, from a health perspective
First Previous Next
“Mnh?” Keith’s eyes flutter open, heart sinking at the empty space beside him. Straining his ears, he can’t hear his chosen mate. He’s alone. It’s an awful feeling, sudden, sharp. Before he even realizes it, he’s chirping, calling for Lance to come back.
Startled by the intensity of his reaction, Keith cliches his jaw, keening softly in his throat. He doesn’t want anyone thinking he’s in trouble. He feels like he's in trouble; he knows he's not. Curling tight into a ball, a purr starts thrumming deep in his throat, his body's attempt to soothe his distress.
“Keith?” A mercifully familiar scent reaches Keith’s nose. “Was that you, kitten?”
“Momma?” Hunkered down in the bed, Keith peeks his head from beneath the blankets. He’s behaving like a very young kit, he knows, but he can’t help it. He feels lost, alone, abandoned.
“Hey, kitten.” Krolia sinks down on the bed, running a hand over the top of his head. She’s wearing a shirt and pants instead of armor, accentuating her slight frame. Keith looks so much like his mother. He doesn't mind. “Lance asked me to come check on you. Said you had a hard night.”
He had had a hard night. He woke up twice with growing pains, an indication that he’s actually starting to grow. Still, there’s only one thing on his mind right now. “Where’s Lance?”
“The compound. Allura called for him. Something happened this morning; we don’t know what.”
“Is she okay?”
“All I know is that she spent the night with Romelle, then sequestered herself to her own room, asking for her brother.”
“I hope she’s alright.” Keith closes his eyes, allows his mother to continue petting his head. “Momma?”
“Yes, kitten?”
“What- What’s happening to me?” Krolia’s presence isn’t helping soothe his distress.
“If I had to guess?” She shifts her kit’s head into her lap, doing the best a mother can do. “You’re bonding to Lance. I know you haven’t mated, but you’re very close to maturity, and your attachment to him is strong.”
Keith gulps, detecting the edge in his mother’s voice. “Please don’t be mad.”
“No, kitten. I’m not mad. But you’re my baby, and the idea of you having no other choice than this hurts me.” A sigh. “Accepting any less than the best for you is hard.”
“I do have a choice. Lance has given me every choice he possibly can.” Keith knows his mother’s doubts. “I chose him because- because he cares. He cared about me before he even knew me. And he cares for our people and wants to learn more about them. You don’t even know him, Mom. Please give him a chance.”
“Alright, kitten. For you, I’ll give him a chance.” Krolia goes easily, not wanting to cause her kit any undue distress. He’s experiencing more than most thanks to his abnormal childhood and growth, and a barb of guilt creeps ever deeper into her chest. “We should take you back to Thace. I want to make sure your bonding process isn’t due to any developmental problems. Besides, you need an exam anyway. It’ll just be a bit earlier than usual.”
“Okay.”
At the clinic, Thace is only just getting his materials together to start the day. “Oh, hey guys. How are we doing this morning?”
“I’d like you to give him an examination,” Krolia murmurs. “His development appears abnormal.”
Thace frowns, normally cheerful face creasing with worry. “Abnormal? How so?”
“He-”
“I seem to be bonding to Lance,” Keith grits out, displeased at everyone making fuss and speaking for him. He really needs to learn how to advocate for himself. “Which would be totally fine, were I anyone else except myself.”
“No, it wouldn’t be,” Thace argues, scurrying around to gather a few supplies, wash his hands. “You’re at an extremely delicate point in your growth. Anyone experiencing early bonding should at least be interviewed, and anyone with a growth disorder should be examined. It might indicate abnormal physical or hormonal development.” He turns back to Krolia. “You are still his parent. How many chirps before I release him?”
“Twice, and you’re done. More than that, and I’ll-”
“Whatever you’re about to do, I’ll be fine. Advisor Krolia will go and inform Crown Prince Lancel of where I am.” Keith draws himself up, poised and formal. Pulling the prince card isn't something he enjoys, but it's the only thing that might possibly help him wriggle out from under his mother's coddling thumb. He loves her, looks up to her, but her coddling is damaging to his image.
He hates that he even has to think of such a thing.
The two both nod, even though his mother’s eyes narrow. He’ll take it. Only one person is allowed to coddle him, and he’s not here right now. Krolia heads off reluctantly, leaving Keith alone with Thace.
“What are you going to do?”
“Scans, blood, and then a visual and manual examination.”
“Examination of what?” Keith can guess, but he wants confirmation.
“Your genitalia. This examination is to assess your reproductive health.”
“... This is going to su-u-u-u-ck.”
“Yes, but it is important. For anyone, not just a prince.” Thace guides him into a dimly lit room with another scanner. There’s a reclined chair in the middle with footrests at the bottom and a spotlight above. Totally not ominous at all. “Before I was offered the emergency medic position here, I specialized in sexual health, with an emphasis on final growth development.
“If so many are going to push themselves to the limits of their reproductive capabilities, I might as well make sure there’s someone competent to look after them. For you, for our futures and the futures of our children, it would be an honor to make sure you are healthy and well.”
Thace helps him into the chair, types settings into a panel on the scanner. This one has an arm that hangs down, instead of rising from the floor. Keith bites his lip, staring at a probe on the counter. “But do you have to-”
“In your case, yes. Premature bonding isn’t rare exactly, but we still want to make sure there’s no underlying cause. It could just be that you really are that fond of Lance, or you could be having some kind of hormonal or anatomical complication.”
Awesome.
“Will it hurt?”
“I’ll have to stimulate certain nerves, so it will cause discomfort-” The scanner hums, the curved arm spinning around Keith. “That discomfort will be fleeting, and the very last part of the exam. After that, you’ll be all done… I will not harm you, Keith, nor do anything to damage you.”
Keith nods, trusting Thace to mean it. He’s a kind, gentle soul, one held in fond regard by all who meet him. Plus, Thace is a bearer with a mate and kits. This won’t be enjoyable for him either.
“How can you do this?” Keith asks, genuinely curious to know as he watches his friend clean a patch of skin at the crook of his elbow and tie a thick elastic band around his arm. He winces at the snap. “How do you conquer your instincts so you can touch me?”
“It was something I struggled with, to be sure, but having a defined purpose helps.” Thace pulls out a needle with a thin tube attached, and a few vials. “I'm one of fifteen siblings. When I was growing up, my parents taught me that it was my duty to find a mate and have as many kits as possible, starting with my first season. And that’s what I knew. It was fact. An incontrovertible truth. That was how I could serve the empire: ten years of service, and a kit every season until my body gave out.”
“So when I went to school to be a medic, and I learned how much strain our culture puts on bearers, and sires to a lesser extent, I was… horrified. Frightened. I didn’t want to waste away, or be left with no quality of life. I wanted my life. I wanted to have something for myself. I realized that, because I too am a person, I deserve the same as anyone else, regardless of my sex.”
Keith stares at the blood pouring into the vial. He can empathize with Thace. He feels the same pressure, has felt it ever since Shiro brought him to the mountain, felt it more and more since moving to Altea. It keeps him up at night, weighs heavy on his thoughts. The burden of other peoples’ expectations.
What if he can’t bear enough kits? Will Lance be disappointed in him? Will he still want him? Alteans don’t necessarily mate for life. He's well on his way to belonging to Lance forever. What if Lance can't give him the same? He sighs, stares at his blood pooling in another vial.
“I chose to deviate from my original plans. I left my chosen mate right before my first season, deciding she was too forceful and domineering given what I wanted for myself. I spent that first season alone at a friend’s den. Ulaz’ den, actually. He was unmated, but I trusted him to keep me safe, since I wasn’t his. He looked after me while I recovered my strength, and… I ended up staying.”
Thace removes the last vial and needle, rubs Keith’s skin with alcohol, wraps some gauze around his arm. He places the vials into a machine, typing in a series of commands. “I made the decision to study reproductive and sexual health. I wanted to do whatever I could to keep people healthy, even if they were putting so much strain on their bodies. Later, when Ulaz was stationed here as part of the Imperial guard, I elected to come with him. I put my life’s work on pause so our family could stay together and so we could complete our required service concurrently. When our service is completed, he will likely stay with the Blades, and I will go back to my work.
“While your tests are being done, we can do the rest. Then we’ll talk about the results… Prince Lancel should be here for that part. It will pertain to him as well.” The medic slips his hands under Keith’s shirt, prodding at his soft tissue. The younger Galra winces, discovering sensitivity he hadn’t realized he had.
“How?”
“Because he has absolutely no fucking clue what he’s doing, like most sires… Now, a common issue seen in Galra with growth disorders is that their mammaries don’t develop. I’m seeing that here. You've clearly got some sensitivity, but I'm not feeling anything as well-developed as I would expect... It’s not surprising, or concerning, but you won’t be able to nurse.”
“Oh.” Keith’s ears wilt. “Okay.”
“I know it’s disappointing for you, but from my perspective, it’s a good thing.” Thace smiles. “Your body does not have the resources to fully complete your final growth spurt. That’s just the facts. So what your body is doing instead is allocating resources where they’re needed most. It’s prioritizing child-bearing over nursing. That’s actually what I want to see in your case.”
“It’s not like Galra milk would be enough for my kits anyway. They’ll need formula to get the proper nutrition.” Hybrids nearly always do.
“They almost certainly will, since your biology and Lance’s are so very different. Your rather unsettling attendant has already tasked me with coming up with a few suggestions for formulas that might be suitable... Can you remove your pants, please?”
Keith removes his pants, reluctant and anxious, but knowing that this is something every kit endures during their final growth spurt. Thace gently nudges his knees apart, makes a soothing noise in the back of his throat as every muscle in Keith’s body instantly tenses.
“If I bite you-”
“I’m asking you to defy the basic instincts of our species. If you bite me, I’ll take no offense. I wouldn’t even call it even.”
For that, Keith clenches his jaw, muscles jittering beneath his skin, claws digging into the arms of the chair. He knows he doesn’t want to hurt Thace, even if his body wants it very, very badly. The medic touches him with a probe three times, once slipping inside, deftly reaching clusters of nerves Keith's always known he had, but never had use for. The probe vibrates, only for a tick, but it’s enough to have him yelping, hissing, ears pinned tight against his head. It hurts, has him baring his teeth at his friend.
“That’s it. We’re done.” Thace pulls a thin blanket over him, rubs his ear. “I’m so sorry, little one.”
Closing his legs, Keith hisses at the adult Galra again, painfully aware that he’s still not quite grown. Said adult Galra only persists in his ministrations, working at that ear until Keith’s settled. “I know, I know. I suck. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t say you were sticking that thing inside me,” Keith grumbles.
“Would you still be sitting there if I had?” Thace raises an eyebrow at Keith’s scowl. “That’s why we don’t say it. Be lucky I didn’t have to check your prostate.”
“Not comforting, dude.” Keith snuggles under the blanket. “It’s gonna make it weird when we come over for dinner.”
“Only if you make it weird. For me, this is just work.”
"What do people normally say when they find out that you look at sex organs for a living?"
"Well, they never say thank you, that's for fucking sure. Ingrates." Thace goes back to the blood testing machine, scans the results. “Yes, I definitely need to speak to both of you. But while we wait for Prince Lancel to get here, there are some things we can talk about just us… Have you experienced any arousal? Erection? Vaginal secretions?”
“Not… exactly.” Keith shifts in the chair, remembering that kiss in the rain. “Maybe… a little?”
“What did you feel?”
“Like a tingle? Or maybe an ache?”
“Vaginal?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. So that’s also good. What that means is that your body is priming itself for the bearer role. Since your mate is male, we would expect the female parts of your reproductive system to respond automatically. If both, or your male parts responded, it might cause some concern.”
“This is… so much.”
“Yes, it is. You are a very complicated person, Keith. Inside and out.”
Keith nods, preoccupied. Teasing the end of his braid, he finds the courage to ask, “Why do you need to speak to Lance? Is something wrong?”
“No, not at all. But from your test results, I can tell that you are in the process of bonding, which is premature. There’s nothing wrong with your bloodwork or your scans, so I’m not worried, but it’s time to have those uncomfortable conversations.”
“This is already an ‘uncomfortable conversation’,” Keith bites, feeling a little petty. Okay, maybe more than a little. But he's more than earned it, so there.
“We need to have a serious discussion with him, make sure he understands all of this from a medical perspective.” Thace makes a few notes on a datapad. “So since you are priming for female reproductive behaviors, you may need to stimulate yourself manually if you wish to achieve an erection. You should be able to, and perform like any other male should you wish to. I’d like you to attempt that before leaving Daibazaal, even if not during coitus.”
“Seriously?” Keith rolls his eyes. That's just unnecessary.
“Seriously. To completion. Reproduction is complex, yours more so than most. It’s important to make sure everything is functioning properly. Besides, Lance might like it.”
“This is the worst conversation I’ve ever had. I just want you to know that.” Stupid Thace and his progressive attitude toward sex talks.
“Yes, I imagine it is. But important for your body and mind. And it’s important for Lance to learn, too, since he is already instrumental to your health and well-being.”
"I hate that you're right."
"That poor boy is in so far over his head. Wait until you have to explain gender identity to him."
"He needs to explain gender identity to me! Alteans are so. weird. You have no idea!" Keith curls up in the chair. "Apparently there's this thing where 'normal' people are either female women or male men, and then anyone who doesn't adhere to that is 'abnormal'."
Thace frowns, utterly baffled. "That's so... primitive. What's the correlation?"
"Not sure. Apparently, on Altea, there is one."
The adult Galra shakes his head. "His brain is going to short-circuit. Oh! I forgot to tell you!" Thace's face breaks into a grin. "My oldest, Mashan? A girl!"
"Hey, that's great!" Keith shares his friend's excitement. It's always a joy when a kit determines their gender.
"Yeah... Gods, I'm so proud of her. Fuck, Keith, before long, I'm gonna be chasing people away from her!"
"That's what you get for making cute kits. What's the phrase? Reap what you plant?"
"Reap what you sow. And that's so unfair, blaming me for passing on my hotness to my kits."
"They certainly don't get it from Ulaz."
Thace gasps, ready to rise to Keith's playful tease, when Lance arrives. He looks tired and sad. Eyes red, scales dull, pale-faced... It seems they're both having a difficult morning. Krolia stands just behind him, face studiously passive.
The Altean surveys the scene before him, eyes travelling about the room, lingering on Keith's pants rumpled on the floor.
"What, the fuck, is going on in here?"
It's going to be a long morning.
#LoveAftertheFact#LAtF#klance#galtean au#altean lance#galra keith#adashi#altean adam#galra shiro#voltron legendary defender#vld
11 notes
·
View notes
Note
I just wanted to let you know that I just saw the tattoo artist/actor AU and I’m now following you. I need more of this content please and thank you. I’m excited for reveal if Dabi past/family whenever that happens. I’m also very curious about Dabi relationship with his siblings in this.
part 0 / part 1 / part 2 / part 3
I went ahead and wrote what I headcanon Natsuo and Touya/Dabi’s relationship would be like in this AU. Will definitely get to Fuyumi and Shouto, too! Just too sleepy rn...
It’s long, so I put it under the cut <3
Natsuo: As the second eldest Todoroki sibling, Natsuo is able to witness first-hand the rise and fall of Todoroki Touya. Growing up, Natsuo had initially been jealous of Touya. His older brother commanded all of their parents’ attention: Enji and Touya would be gone weeks at time, no doubt enjoying all the father-son activities Natsuo isn’t privy to. In the rare instances that Touya is home, their mom would dote on him - any request, big or small, would be granted. Mochi for lunch? Sure. Video games past curfew? Why not.
Whenever Touya is home, he almost always locks himself in his bedroom, snapping at Natsuo to go away when he asks if he wants to play. Natsuo hears Touya crying a lot, through the door. Crybaby Touya is the nickname Natsuo secretly gives his older brother. It must be a hard life, being the favorite.
Sometimes, though, Touya will agree to play with him. Natsuo learns very early on that Touya hates to play-pretend, so he makes sure to steer clear of those kinds of games. Touya likes quieter activities, like coloring and drawing. They play soccer sometimes, but they have to be secret about it because their dad doesn’t like it when they roughhouse.
As they grow older, the chasm between them yawns wider. Touya, who’d always been reserved in comparison to Natsuo’s boundless energy, becomes even more withdrawn, snapping and snarling at everyone and everything. He picks fights with Natsuo about petty things, scoffing and making snide remarks. It’s like walking on eggshells being in the same room as Touya. He still cries a lot, usually when he’s arguing and his frustrated tears spill over. Natsuo starts calling him Crybaby Touya to his face, usually leading to the two of them scuffling on the ground until Fuyumi cries to their mom to break their fight up.
By the time they’re in Jr. High, it’d be a stretch to call their relationship “close”. Touya doesn’t go to school like Natsuo does; he has a private tutor because he’s special. Touya used to ask Natsuo about school a lot, what it’s like. Natsuo had told him about class, how he’s made so many friends, how nice his teacher was, the things he’s learned - he tells Touya everything and anything because despite it all, a part of him still likes having his older brother pay attention to him. It’s the only time they can interact without it dissolving into a fight. Touya always seems a little sadder after their conversations though.
It’s around the time that Touya is entering high school that their relationship slips like sand between his fingers. It’s like a flip has been switched and Touya actively tries to become the worst version of himself. Fuyumi is naive and Natsuo shields her from the worst of it, but he knows their older brother is hurdling full-throttle on a self-destructive path.
It’s always Natsuo who finds Touya splayed out in the hallway, reeking of cheap booze and stale sweat. He shakes and mutters nonsense when Natsuo hefts him up, dragging him to the bathroom or bedroom with an arm slung across his shoulders. Depending on the damage, Natsuo may wipe him down with a cool washcloth to clean the worst of it, helps Touya strip into cleaner clothes if he’s coherent enough.
He sees the baggies, the pricked skin of his inner elbow and legs and wonders why Touya? Touya has everything: dad’s attention, the looks, the fame. It’s the life many can only dream of. Why is he so set in ruining it? Natsuo tells himself This is the last time I’ll help him. Let Mom or Fuyumi find him next time. But everytime he hears the telltale sound of uncoordinated limbs trying and failing to sneak down the hall, Natsuo is up and halfway to his own bedroom door, bracing himself for what he’ll find when he opens it.
Then, the Todoroki Touya Scandal hits.
Suddenly, the media focuses on the Todoroki family. Micro-analyzing every little thing they do or say. Natsuo isn’t prepared for the onslaught of sudden attention from strangers and peers alike, bombarding him with questions he doesn’t know the answer to. He doesn’t know why Touya did that. He doesn’t know if it was consensual. He doesn’t know anything. Natsuo’s relatively private life is abruptly put on display and Natsuo has no idea how Touya has survived this long under all the pressure. The things Touya has said and done for years are starting to make more sense.
After that, it’s like Touya takes this as explicit permission to dig himself an even deeper hole. With a force that surprises even Natsuo, Touya throws himself headfirst into scandal after scandal. The tabloids begin running out of witty one-liners for their headlines - that’s how much Touya’s destructive behavior becomes the norm. It’s like he’s trying to prove something but Natsuo doesn’t understand it, can’t even begin to try.
And just as the scandals reach their peak, Touya vanishes. Natsuo has no idea where he’s gone and doesn’t have the first clue of where to look. Touya has always been an intensely private person but Natsuo comes to the startling realization that he doesn’t really know his brother at all.
Fuyumi holds onto the hope that Touya’s out there, living some happy, secret life. Natsuo is more pessimistic, but keeps his opinions to himself. He’d blame Touya at first, for leaving. But with their father at home more now, focusing on Shouto and grooming him to become a better version of Touya, Natsuo knows the only one to blame for Touya’s demise is Todoroki Enji.
So for about five years, there’s absolute radio silence. Then out of the blue, Touya calls him. A simple: “Sup, little brother.” And Natsuo promptly hangs up, thinking it’s a sick joke. Fuyumi calls him later, crying, and says that she and Touya talked. That he’s changed a lot and Natsuo should call him.
Natsuo does not call him. He texts him instead, tells Touya how fucked up it was that he up and left with no warning, how hurt Fuyumi was, how scared and confused Shouto had become, and how heart-broken it left mom. Out of all the Todoroki siblings, Natsuo has the hardest time forgiving Touya. Mostly because he had thought he knew Touya the most, only to have the truth blindside him.
The problem is this: Natsuo is stubborn and hard-headed, just like their old man. When Touya reaches out, Natsuo is quick to shut it down, not trusting that Touya won’t disappear again. He doesn’t think he can forgive Touya so easily like Fuyumi, or Shouto who doesn’t really remember Touya much at all.
The second problem is this: Touya wants to mend his relationship with his siblings so much that the task seems almost insurmountable. When Natsuo pushes him away, Touya (well, Dabi now), accepts it, doesn’t think he’s worth forgiving anyway. It’s actually Hawks who points out that it’s because Dabi loves and cares so much that he can’t bring himself to bridge that gap, to push harder for the result he wants.
It takes a long time for them to build a relationship again, but once they overcome the hurdle of actually talking, they start to repair their relationship as brothers. Natsuo is probably the most skeptical when he hears that Dabi-Touya is dating Hawks, of all people. For a guy who hated the acting industry so much to leave it behind, it’s ironic that he’s dating one of the most well-known A-Listers right now. But, when he meets Hawks, it’s hard not to like the guy. The guy’s the polar opposite of Dabi which is hilarious. Hawks is chatty and genuinely kind; he really wins brownie points with Natsuo when he offers to give Shouto a ride to & from school when Fuyumi can’t.
It’s through Hawks that Natsuo sees Dabi has become truly comfortable with who he is, and can finally forgive Touya for leaving them all those years ago.
#phew#i went overboard i think#but im super excited to flesh out fuyumi and shouto's relationship with dabi too <3#thank u for sending me this ask :')#tattoo/actor au#dabihawks#bnha#dabi#hawks#hotwings#touya todoroki#bnha headcanons#so-many-sad-duck
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love is All We Have
A/N: Here is the next part of the Domestic(ish) Life series. I’ll be honest, this one is really just self-fulfillment. I am so sorry. I’ve been really fed up with my family lately so it kind of came out in my writing. This is a biggen though, to make up for my lack of updates.
Word Count: 4122
Series Masterlist
-------------------------------------------------------------------
“Sweetheart, you know you gotta tell ‘em,” Steve said gently, trying desperately to placate the woman who was currently switching from mass hysteria to anger then back again.
“Steve you don’t understand! My family is so fucked up and judgmental and I know what’s gonna happen and I’ve been dreading it since we first put a label on this and I- oh god I think I’m gonna be sick.” (Y/N) said as she went from pacing to squatting on the floor breathing heavily.
Steve jumped up from the couch and over to her immediately. There were tears streaming down her face, which was ghostly white. He quickly helped her up and got her to the bathroom just as she started to vomit. He held her hair back as he rubbed her back. He tried his best to murmur soothing words as she emptied the contents of her stomach. He was able to grab a washcloth and wet it with one hand as he did his best to support (Y/N). Once she was done, she pulled back from the toilet a bit. Steve took care of flushing the toilet and wiping her face.
“I can’t Steve, I can’t lose anyone.” (Y/N) mumbled.
“Okay, it’s okay. Shhhh, we’ll talk about it later okay. Just calm down, let your body rest.” He said soothingly. She nodded and let Steve pick her up and take her to bed.
--------------
When Bucky returned from some avengers stuff about half an hour later, he was faced with a sticky note on the door that said to be quiet. He cautiously and silently opened the door, wondering what was happening. He came into the apartment where he could see Steve with his head in his hands, sitting on the couch. The door to your bedroom was closed, which made him curious.
“Steve…?” Bucky quietly called out as he dropped his stuff on the entryway table.
Steve startled and looked over at Bucky.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” Steve spoke softly and serenely, his eyes portraying a different set of emotions, however.
Bucky scoffed and said, “Obviously, if you say be quiet when coming in, I’m gonna be quiet.”
“No that’s not- right. Thanks.” Steve said, his words as jumbled as his headspace seemed to be.
“You wanna tell me what’s wrong, and why I had to be quiet coming in?” Bucky asked taking a seat next to Steve, grabbing his hand.
“Oh uh, (Y/N) finally fell asleep. I didn’t want to wake her. She’s been… in a bit of a bad state.” Steve said vaguely.
“What do you mean by ‘a bad state’?” Bucky asked, his mind spinning a hundred and one theories on what could be wrong with you and who he would kill if someone had hurt you.
“Well uh, her grandmother called. Her whole family is coming up to New York for a vacation.” Steve said.
“Oookay,”
“She still hasn’t told her family about our relationship,” Steve stated.
“Oh,” Bucky knew this. You’d been so worried about telling the Avengers about your relationship, he couldn’t imagine what you were doing to yourself when you were contemplating telling your family.
“Yeah. She worked herself up so much she threw up twice before she finally fell asleep. I don’t know what to do. How do we help her?” Steve asked, his eyes glistening with helplessness.
“We be there for her,” Bucky said firmly.
“Yeah, but if we can’t?” Steve asked. When Bucky shot him a questioning glance he elaborated. “She doesn’t want to tell them, Buck, so that means we can’t be there for her if her family has no clue we exist.”
“Her family knows we exist. We’ve both met her mother on skype, for granted as friends and not lovers, but that’s beside the point. We met for dinner with her sister and brother-in-law. They know we exist. And if we go with her to see them as just friends then so be it. Even if she only wants one of us there. We will support her. No matter what.”
Steve nodded and they sat in silence for a while longer. Eventually, the bedroom door cracked open and you wandered out looking worse for wear.
------------
Your head was pounding, your throat hurt, and your stomach was cramping from too much throwing up. All in all, you felt like shit. You looked at the time and saw that Bucky should have been home so you slowly got up and headed towards the door, opening it just a crack. The brightness of the living area was a stark contrast to the darkness of the bedroom you were exiting. The boys both looked up from where they were cuddled together on the couch.
Bucky extends an arm toward you and you amble your way over and plop on their laps.
“How’re ya feelin’ doll?” Bucky asked as he wrapped you in his arms.
“A bit better, still off though.”
“That’s to be expected after everything,” Steve said with a gentle smile.
“I’m sorry for freaking out on you.” You spoke quietly.
“Don’t worry about it.” He dismissed, the smile still on his face.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Bucky asked.
“Buck!” Steve exclaimed.
“What?”
“She just woke up after having a breakdown over this and you chose to ask her now.” Steve lectured.
“It’s okay Stevie, he’s just worried. And I get that.” You said, placing a hand on his arm.
“I just don’t want to push you.”
“I know you don’t. But you also have a right to know why I’m freaking out.” You say avoiding looking them in the eye.
“I think we already put that together doll,” Bucky spoke softly.
“Wha-wha’d’ya mean?”
“From what you’ve told us about your family, they seem like anything outside the so-called norm is not approved. And with as anxious you were about telling the Avengers, who are all pretty open-minded people, it was fairly easy to put two and two together.” Bucky explained.
“Oh,”
“Don’t worry sweetheart. We aren’t mad or anything. Whatever you choose to tell or not to tell your family is 100% your call. We will love and support you regardless. If you need more time, we understand completely.” Steve promised. Tears gathered and poured from your eyes. Their kindness and love for you amazed you. Your sniffle quickly gathered their attention and caused both of them to curl tighter around you.
“Shhhh, it’s okay. You’re alright. We got you.”
“I’m okay, I just, I love you guys so much and I just-” You sniffle, not able to fully formulate a sentence that could get your feelings across effectively.
“Shhh, we love you too sweetheart.”
“More than you know,” Bucky added.
----------------------------------
You took a deep breath as you walked into the airport. You were so excited to be seeing your family again. It had been almost 6 months since you’d seen your family in person. However, you knew the boys were waiting in the parking lot for you all. And you knew what was coming soon after that. Luckily your family had rented a spacious Airbnb for the week, so you weren’t going to be as cramped back at the townhouse just outside the city. But you were still terrified. After almost a week of fretting and turning your thoughts over, you decided you wanted to tell your family. Your boys meant too much to you to be kept a secret. You didn’t care if your family shunned you, hell, you were expecting it. But you knew your mom would still love you, as would your sister. And most importantly, you’d have the loves of your life to back you up.
As you saw people start to filter out of the terminal, you stood and looked for your large family. They weren’t hard to pick out. Between the tallness of some of your family members and how loud they were, it was an easy spot. The hard part was getting them to see you. Luckily you were smart enough to bring a tall and bright sign to draw their attention. You noticed your family heading in your direction so you sent a quick message to the boys to let them know your family was off the plane. There were some tears as your family reconnected. It was so wonderful to see them, you almost forgot the pit of anxiety in your stomach.
After you helped them gather their luggage, you headed off toward the entrance. You sent a to the boys to have them come pick you up as you didn’t want your grandparents to have to walk all the way to the garage. You briefly explained that your friends had offered to drive you guys so you didn’t have to uber. They were more than happy to not have to pay for a ride, so there were no questions asked. The boys quickly hopped out to help load up. They had hats, glasses, and jackets on to try and keep from being spotted. Luckily, no one in the busy loading area was paying much attention to anyone but themselves. Your family, on the other hand, seemed very shocked at these two buff men helping out. Your mom gave you a knowing smile when she realized just who they were. The only people who knew of your friendship with the two super-soldiers were your mom, sister, and brother-in-law. When it came time to load into the cars you had a momentary panic at which boy you didn’t want to leave alone with your family. The boys came up to you, seeing your momentary panic as the rest of the family loaded in.
“Don’t worry about us doll, we can handle ourselves,” Bucky promised.
“Yeah, but whoever I’m not with is going to be subjected to relentless questioning.” You whined.
Steve let out a laugh and Bucky chuckled with him.
“You go with Buck, I can handle your family. I promise.” Steve ushered.
“You say that now,” You mumbled as you headed towards the car Bucky was driving.
-----------------
You hated driving in the City. You got car sick very easily, so the quick jolting of traffic was never any fun for you. Luckily, your grandma let you sit in the front so it would be a bit easier on you. Bucky apologized every time he had to hit the breaks and your family thought it was hilarious. He also kept sending you concerned looks. And this was just the first five minutes.
“So, you gonna introduce us? We kinda skipped that part in the rush.” Your cousin asked.
“Oh, yeah, right. So, everyone, this is my best friend Bucky, Buck, the fam.” You said, a false smile on your face.
“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard lots about you.” Bucky said. His eyes flitted to the rearview to look at the occupants of the car.
“Oh have you now?” Your grandma asked.
“Nanna, please don’t. Bucky was nice enough to lend a hand. Please don’t scare him off.” You begged turning to look at her. At the same moment, someone cut Bucky off causing him to slam on the breaks and mumble some curses in Russian.
“Sorry doll.” He said.
You laughed as you turned back around. “Bucky stop apologizing. You sound like Steve.” You teased.
“Listen here-”
“Ooooh, lovers quarrel.” Your cousin teased.
Both you and Bucky froze mid-sentence. You turned to glare at your cousin, icey fire in your eyes.
“Ooh shit, was I right?” He asked when he saw the glare leveled at him.
You took a deep breath and turned back to face the front of the car.
“You can drop him off on the next street corner and he can walk.” You said to Bucky, your voice sickly sweet, the venom dripping from every word.
Bucky laughed outright at that, which made you smile, he usually only laughed like that when it was just you, him, and Steve.
“Com’on Doll, if you kicked Steve or I out every time we pissed you off, we’d never be in your presence.”
“That’s not the point.” You pouted.
You could hear your family snickering in the back. You glanced over to Bucky to see him trying to contain a smile.
“Just drive asshole.”
------------------------------------
When you got to the house you felt sick to your stomach and totally done with Bucky. You got out of the car and went over to Steve. You hugged him and said, “You’re now my favorite.” You made sure it was loud enough for Bucky to hear.
You felt Steve’s chest rumble as he laughed.
“What’d you do?” Steve asked.
“Just stated the obvious. She hasn’t talked to any of us pretty much the whole ride.”
“How was the drive part though?” Steve asked you, pushing you away enough to look you in the eye.
“Not great, I currently feel like vomiting but hey, what else is new.” You shrugged.
“Well you head inside, we’ll help them unload,” Steve said.
“No no, I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” Bucky said.
“Doesn’t matter, I’m helping.” You said as you moved to grab a bag.
“(Y/F/N) do not make me make Steve use the voice.” Bucky threatened.
Your family stopped to watch the altercation.
“Steve would never.” You argued.
“What would I never?” Steve asked as he came out of the house.
“Make her go rest,” Bucky said.
“Ooooh, I see.” Steve then proceeded to give you ‘the eyebrows of disappointment’ as he said “(Y/N),”
“Steve, I’m fine. The faster we unpack, the faster I’ll sit down.” You countered. It must have been a sight for your family to see. Your comparatively tiny frame staring down these two brick houses. But you didn’t back down. Years of friendship prevented this. You’d had your fair share of disagreements with them, they didn’t scare you. And Steve’s ‘captain voice’ only worked occasionally.
You didn’t break eye contact as you walked backwards towards one of the SUVs and grabbed a bag. Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as Bucky just glared. You smiled widely as you walked towards the house, an extra sway in your hips. You could hear your family cackle as you walked into the house. You saw your mom starting the process of cleaning the kitchen and she looked up at you when you entered.
“What is going on out there?” She asked.
“My friends are ganging up on me and the fam thinks it's hilarious.” You said.
“Oh well you kno- are you okay, you’re awfully pale.” Your mom asked coming over to you.
“Oh yeah, just car sick momma.” You said, waving it off.
“Why don’t you sit down then?” She asked trying to lead you over to a seat.
You sighed and complied, only cause you really felt like passing out. When the boys came in with two large cases each and saw you sitting at the kitchen bar top they just stared.
“Stop staring and go put that luggage down.” You grumbled.
Steve just smiled and kissed the top of your head as he passed.
Once everything had been unpacked and take-out had been ordered, you all gathered in the large living room to talk and catch up. At this point, your family had figured out you were friends with two Avengers.
“Why the hell would you not tell us you knew Captain America! I mean that’s pretty important!” Your cousin said.
“I don’t know. I guess cause to me they’re not Captain America and the Winter Soldier, they’re just Steve and Bucky.” You explained with a shrug.
Her family just stared at the three of them sitting on the floor by the coffee table.
“Well, I guess you taking self-defense classes makes sense. I assume one of them is your teacher?” Your younger cousin asked.
“Yeah, they’re both always worried about me. At first, it was Steve, but he was too afraid of hurting me so he asked a friend who doesn’t have super strength to train me a bit.” You said, leaving out that it was actually Natasha who trains you once a week. You didn’t really want to go through the fact that you know and are fairly friendly with the rest of the Avengers.
“Damn, okay then.” your cousin said, an impressed look on her face. You laughed at that. You were practically sandwiched between the boys. You were used to this though, and you came to enjoy it more and more. As the night wore on, you got less nervous and let yourself go a little bit. You were much less rigid and enjoyed being with your whole family again. It had been so long since you all just laughed and chatted like this. The boys were enjoying it as well. They got to hear some stories about you that you would have never told. As the hours got later, the cozier the three of you became. It got to the point where you were practically in both of their laps. You could see your family starting to give the three of you looks, but you tried to avoid it. You could feel Bucky nudging you every time you dodged a look from your grandma or cousin. Eventually, you heard Bucky let out a deep sigh. You knew what was coming.
“Alright, I’m done with this.” He said quietly to you as he adjusted you in his lap. You went stiff as you looked at him with fear painted across your face.
“You good (Y/N/N)?” Your cousin asked as he saw your change in demeanor.
“Uh, yeah, kinda.” You stuttered out, still staring at Bucky. He gave you a sympathetic look. You could see in his eyes he was giving you an out, but you didn’t want one. You didn’t want your boys to think you were ashamed of them, especially Bucky. You’d spent so long reassuring him he was deserving of happiness and love, you knew chickening out would hurt him more than any of you.
You took a deep breath and turned to face your family, who had all gone unusually quiet while watching you have your silent conversation with Bucky.
“Okay, so,” You took another breath, “wow, this is harder than I thought.” You felt your hands start to shake, but each of the boys took a hand to lend you their support.
“Bucky and Steve aren’t just my best friends… They’re my boyfriends.” You squeezed your eyes shut as you waited for the expected explosion. But it was silent. You peaked your eyes open to see the shocked faces of your family. Well, everyone except your mom, who was smiling at you. Figures she knew, she always knew everything. After some slow blinking and looks to other members of the family, your family started to try and wrap their heads around the bomb you just dropped.
“I’m sorry what?” Your grandfather questioned.
“I’m dating both Steve and Bucky, the three of us are in a relationship.” You explained, squeezing the boys' hands in an iron grip.
“That’s ridiculous. You can’t date more than one person.” Your cousin said, his eyebrows furrowed in shock and disbelief.
“You actually kinda can. And we have, for a while now.” You said, your voice shaky and meek.
“Wow, greedy much? Can’t have just one, you need two?” Your little cousin said, her lips forming a scoff.
“Please, don’t be like this.” You begged, your eyes filling with tears.
“Like what? Honey, you can’t date two men. That’s just not how it works.” Your grandmother said, her voice not hostile, but like she was explaining something to a two-year-old.
“How what works? Your idea of a relationship. Newsflash, it’s not the 50s anymore nan.” You snapped, getting defensive now.
“Alright, let’s all calm down.” Your mother said, trying to keep anyone from saying more hurtful things.
“No, it’s fine. I knew this would happen. Hell, I almost wasn’t even gonna say anything because I knew you guys would act like assholes about it. But I did because my boys deserve better than to feel like my dirty secret. I love them with all I have and I know they love me as well. So if you can’t comprehend that with your tiny little brains, then that’s your problem.” You ranted, getting up and gathering your things as you said your piece. “We are leaving, and if any of you want to get your heads out of your asses, I would love to have another meal with you and spend more time together, but if you can’t well… screw you.” You said as you walked out the door.
You knew the boys would follow, they always would. You made it out the door and to the car before you broke down. Your sobs nearly brought you to your knees. They would have if Bucky wouldn’t have been as fast as he was at catching you.
“Sh, sh, sh. I know. You were so brave. I love you so much. I’m so sorry you had to deal with that.” Bucky murmured into your hair. You felt Steve also wrap himself around you from behind as you sobbed in the driveway.
You heard the front door to the house open and Steve briefly pull away to see who had followed you. You could also feel Bucky stiffen, ready for a fight.
“Oh my baby,” You heard your mom mutter.
You pulled away from Bucky to look at her as her eyes filled with tears. You rushed in to give her a big hug, letting her hold you while you both cried.
“You get my baby home and take care of her.” Your mom ordered the boys.
“We will ma’am,” Steve promised.
“It was great to finally meet you both in person. I’m glad she found you.” She said as she passed you off to Bucky, kissing your forehead.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.” She promised. You nodded and let Bucky pick you up and bring you to the car.
The drive home was a blur. You knew this was gonna happen. You’d prepared yourself the best you could for the inevitable, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. You bearly registered the boys bringing you upstairs and helping you to get ready for bed, washing your face, and taking your hair out. You only came back to the present when you felt them curl into you, surrounding you with them. The tears came back again as you thought about how you pretty much just lost your whole family. The people who had always promised to be there for you, no matter what.
The boys tried so hard to console you. The guilt was killing them. They knew you’d be mad if you knew they felt guilty, but they couldn’t help it. They knew what your family meant to you, and they’d effectively just ripped it apart.
“Always got your back my ass,” you mumbled.
“What’s that sweetheart?” Steve asked, nuzzling into your hair. You giggled through the tears as his nose tickled your neck.
“They just, it was always the family thing to promise we’d always have each other’s back. It’s just kind of ironic that they all seemed to forget that.”
“I am so sorry doll, I wish we’d never pushed you to tell them.” Bucky apologized, the tears gathering behind his icy blue eyes.
“Oh no no no, don’t be sorry.” You said, your tears coming back when you realized how hurt he was. “I knew what they’d think. But you know what?” You rolled over to hold his face in your hands. “Fuck them, they don’t realize how lucky and how happy I am. If their small-mindedness is more important than me, I don’t really want them in my life anyway.” You said.
“But I know how much your family means to you,” Bucky said lowly.
“Family to me is the people that love and support you unconditionally. So if they can’t do that, they’re not my family. But you know who is. You.” You said, the smile coming back to your face as you saw Bucky let out a little laugh, his eyes brightening.
“You boys are my home and family now. If some of them get over the shock and want to be part of my family great, but if not, I’ll be okay. Cause I got my boys.” You said, reaching behind you to pull Steve closer to you.
The three of you fell asleep that night, tears dried and smile on your face. It hurt to lose your family, but you knew that you’d always have your boys, and that was enough to lessen the pain in your heart.
#stucky x reader#stucky#Bucky Barnes#bucky barnes x reader#steve x reader x bucky#Steve Rogers#steve rogers x reader#captain america#captain america x reader#Winter Solider#winter solider x reader#Domestic(ish) life#sorry not sorry#angst#family drama#self fulfillment
108 notes
·
View notes
Note
Heyyyyyy idk if you do asks but could you write about Harry figuring out he wants kids? 😍
I’ve never actually taken a Tumblr ask before… but this was an amazing prompt! Thanks! :D
(On AO3)
Harry hadn’t really thought about babies before. He’d abstractly thought they were cute in their own way — little potato blobs that pooped and cried and gradually became more humanlike.Although Harry doesn’t properly meet Teddy until the war is over (and doesn’t even hold him until mid-May), he automatically knows his godson differs from the nameless, faceless babies he’s seen before. In retrospect, this should have been Harry’s first clue that perhaps part of him — a part that had been asleep for years, or perhaps one that had never truly woken at all — was finally stretching and rising. But even after all that, Harry reckons he’s a bit thick, because it still takes him until July to make the biggest discovery of all.Weekend trips to the Tonks house quickly become customary following the war. Andromeda’s a middle-aged woman raising an infant entirely alone; like everyone else in her position, she needs a break from time to time. She’d conveyed early on that weekends are the hardest, as she’s been with the baby for five straight days — and Harry and Ginny are happy to help. They’ve gladly traveled to her home every Saturday afternoon for months, and thus far, every trip has been simple and endearing. They’ve each enjoyed the little slices of domesticity, little glimpses into normal life, little breaks between the mourning (and shagging), and grieving (and more shagging) and rebuilding (so much shagging).Right away, though, Harry knows this particular trip will be different. Even from the exterior of the house, Harry can tell that Andromeda is struggling. Weeds have overgrown normally immaculately maintained garden, her rose bushes are unpruned, and her lawn is longer than Harry’s ever seen it. Harry vows to help her with yard work as he and Ginny approach the door — and although he feels like nothing malicious is to blame for any of these deviations from the norm, he instinctively knows that a relaxing afternoon is not what the universe has in store. The moment they step over the threshold, this prediction proves correct.Instead of rushing to greet them with tea and biscuits, an exhausted Andromeda is pacing the foyer, bouncing a pink-haired, fussing Teddy on her shoulder. She gives them a weak smile and offers a half-hearted apology for the mess and her attire and the garden, because Teddy’s teething, and it’s been —But Harry never finds out how it’s been, because Ginny won’t let her get that far.
Her red hair trails behind her as she swoops in with soothing words and a gentle pat on the arm and a soft reassurance to the older woman that it’ll be fine. Although she’s nearly thirty years her junior, Ginny’s presence has a calming effect; Harry’s not surprised when Andromeda visibly sags in relief. Harry is surprised, though, when Andromeda walks up to him and nonchalantly plops Teddy into his arms without a single forewarning.Harry accepts his godson, of course — though he can’t help but look startled while he does it. Maybe one day he’ll get used to this custom of people so cavalierly handing over something so precious. Now, though, he’s mostly worried about the plans Ginny’s committing them to while he’s busy holding the baby; Andromeda swiftly explains that she hasn’t been to the shops in ages — and that she positively needs to get out of the house. Ginny instantaneously volunteers to watch Teddy, but all Harry can do is give her a wide-eyed, horrified look: How the hell are they meant to function without an actual adultIt’s no matter, though, because they clearly don’t have a choice. The older woman is ready to leave in a flash — and Harry now realizes (because, again, he’s quite thick) that she’d merely been waiting for them to arrive. Andromeda wraps Ginny in a warm embrace, and Harry shoots his girlfriend a weary look from over her shoulder (Are you sure about this?). Ginny arches an eyebrow at him (No, but we’re doing it anyway) before pulling away from the hug with another calming pat.Then Andromeda offers them a parting wave, turns on the spot, and disappears into thin air.>br/>And with that, Harry and Ginny are off on their first babysitting adventure.>br/>Just the three of them.>br/>Right.
Teddy cuts through the blanketed silence with a little gurgle. Harry glances down just as the baby’s face wrinkles and strains. Harry cautiously leans back, preparing for the explosion that usually accompanies that expression… but instead of expelling something from either end, Teddy lets out a little grunt — and then he shifts, right before Harry’s eyes.Oh. Harry swallows. He’s never seen him do it, not like this… but now the baby’s hair is shifting from pink to black, his eyes from brown to bright greenMerlin…Ginny giggles and sidles up next to them, oblivious to the war waging in Harry’s chest. “Andromeda said he was getting better at this,” she notes, tracing a finger down Teddy’s cherubic little face. “Transforming.” Then she pauses, biting her lip. “Can I—?”Harry clears his throat and passes Teddy into her open hands. He moves mechanically, as if he’s coming out of a trance — but even seeing a baby who looks exactly like him probably wouldn’t have amounted to much…If only Ginny hadn’t taken things one step further.But fortunately (or unfortunately, Harry really can’t decide), she does.The second Teddy’s in Ginny’s arms, the baby’s whimpers turn to gentle sighs. She makes shhing sounds and brings him to her chest as she cradles his head on her shoulder. A soft smile graces her lips before she sinks onto the sofa, and Harry numbly takes the cue to join them.After that, it all happens very quickly.As soon as Ginny props Teddy up in her lap, Harry feels something bubbling in his stomach, something changing him from the inside out, something akin to Polyjuice Potion… except it’s changing his heart, not his hide.Holy mother of God.Harry’s breath freezes in his throat as black-haired Teddy raises a chubby fist. Ginny swoops in to kiss it, tucking a piece of long red hair out of his reach and adjusting him in her lap. She gives Harry a soft smile from over her shoulder; he summons a weak one in return, even though it feels like he’s been socked in the gut.At nearly 18, Harry Potter’s just realized something that would get him into a great deal of trouble if he were to voice it aloud. It’s something he’s confident most teenagers don’t think about much. It’s something that life has never allowed him to consider — or to plan for. Even once.Because Harry’s now certain — beyond any doubt — that he eventually wants a baby.With her.Fuck.He swallows and runs a shaking hand through his hair as Ginny positions Teddy so he’s seated upright. The baby’s green eyes dance with mirth as Ginny coos some vaguely pleasant nonsense, the tips of her red hair brushing her shoulders as she does.Oh, Harry thinks numbly, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Now they’re playing a game.
Ginny holds Teddy under his arms, leaning in closer and closer to his gummy grin until — at the last second — she makes a chomping sound and kisses him on the nose. Because Teddy’s a baby, he’s surprised every single time; he emits more peals of mirth with every single pass… but after the fifth consecutive time, it’s too much.It’s too, too much.Everything that Harry’s spent seven years denying comes crawling up his throat at the same time. He’s lightheaded and claustrophobic and sick and warm and terrified and thrilled… and he jumps up from the couch and darts to the corridor, muttering something about the toilet as he goes.
Ginny’s confused, “Wha-?” is cut off as he enters the loo and slams the door behind him, all semblance of manners forgotten.Once inside, Harry lurches to the sink, hoping his unsteady legs won’t buckle beneath him on the way. He grips the cool porcelain, slamming his eyes shut, and after several pained seconds, Harry dares to look up at himself in the mirror. He draws deep breaths and wills them to give him some modicum of comfort… and all the while, he tries very hard to pretend that Ginny hadn’t been a vision of femininity and motherhood and perfection and love. That she hadn’t represented every single thing he’s ever wanted.While holding a baby. Who looks exactly like him.Before he can help it, Harry’s imagination explodes — absolutely explodes. Harry’s already known he wants to marry her; that’s a foregone conclusion, albeit one that’s also abstract and terrifying. For some reason, he’s never factored kids into the mix, too… but suddenly, that’s all he can see.Harry sees Ginny, all glowing and beautiful and pregnant, her bright red hair illuminated by a sunset. He sees himself smiling and caressing her growing bump, kissing her laughing mouth, massaging her back, telling her how much he loves her. Then the scene changes; Ginny’s snuggling a black-haired baby (one who can’t shift the color of his hair) as their little family rests atop a worn blanket. Now Harry sees the baby toddling on unsteady legs, his tongue sticking out in determination as Ginny kneels and cheers him into her arms. Oh, and now there’s a green-eyed, red-haired little girl offering him a flower she’s plucked from the garden. Or maybe multiple little girls. Or boys. Harry’s not fussy, not about any of it. He sees hectic trips to Diagon Alley and enormous family dinners and absolute, unadulterated chaos.And he loves every second of it.Harry swallows, looking away, and a shiver races up his spine.Fucking hell… what has he done? _______
Ginny demands answers the second they reach the path to the Burrow. He’d figured she would; he’s just not sure how to explain this, though, without scaring the shit out of her.Right.Harry draws a deep breath and turns on the spot, preparing to give a reasonable explanation — but Ginny greets him with the same warm, curious look he’d seen in one of his bizarre domestic daydreams. Any thought of handling this well evaporates as quickly as it had arrived.Harry blinks at her a few times, opens his mouth — and then blurts everything out with all the elegance of an oiled gazelle stumbling up a set of stairs. His words run together as a single, unpunctuated entity, and by the time he’s done, he’s impressed Ginny hasn’t run for the hills.“You were holding Teddy and he looked like me and I didn’t know what to do with that because I’ve never thought I had a future before but now I think — no, I know — that I want kids one day. In future. Butonlywithyou. Specifically.”Harry groans and turns away, running a hand down his face.Well, that couldn’t have gone worse.For several pained seconds, he stares at his trainers and tries to negotiate the fact that he’s likely left her completely terrified… but just as it seems all hope is lost, Ginny’s words rip him from his mortified reverie.“Okay,” she starts. To Harry’s surprise, he gets the distinct impression she’s caught between amusement and sympathy. “So, to clarify, you saw me with Teddy. And realized that you might want kids. Eventually. One day. And this is… a huge problem?”He glances up to see a smirk twitching the corners of her lips; he slumps over in relief, but she’s made her point. It does seem a bit stupid, when she puts it like that.Harry spreads his palms and attempts to explain. “I just… I never let myself think beyond Tom, yeah? And now that I have thought beyond him, it kind of just… hit me all at once.” He trails off and looks away, huffing out a sigh that sounds as pathetic as he feels. As usual, though, Ginny knows exactly what he needs. Her little palms slips into his; her touch is soothing and perfect, just as it had been with Andromeda.“Well,” she says slowly, staring at their joined hands. Is he just imagining it, or are her cheeks turning pink? “You happen to be in luck, Harry Potter. Because I might eventually — one day, not now — want kids. With you.”Oh.Harry grins and wonders if she can hear the weight lifting off his shoulders. “Yeah?”Ginny swallows through a curt nod — but that’s her last attempt at sincerity before she starts bantering again. Harry doesn’t care, though; how could he care when he’s this happy?“But I want to emphasize,” Ginny begins again, her tone mock-serious, “that these are to be very specific children. Because I’ll be honest, the concept of kids in general?” She shrugs, making a face. “Never really done it for me. So I reckon I’ll either raise them with you or get loads of cats.”Harry laughs and leans in for a kiss; he has to touch her. Ginny relaxes into him, drawing him against her body — and when she pulls away a few moments later, a sparkle of mischief glints in her eye. “Well,” she sighs, draping her arms around his neck. “I reckon a funeral is in order.”He arches an eyebrow as his palms come to rest on her waist. “A funeral?” he ventures, torn between confusion and delight. It wasn’t too long ago that funerals were something dreadful and never-ending and painful, just another piece of the puzzle in dismantling Tom once and for all.But the smirk twitching the corner of Ginny’s lip tells Harry she’s not thinking about anything dreadful or painful or never-ending. She’s happy… just like he is.Instead, Ginny fixes him with a flat stare. “Here lie Harry’s swimmers,” she says stoically, “stuck in the shallow end for the foreseeable future.” Harry snorts before he catches himself. Usually he’s better at this, at expecting her next line and preparing something in return. This time, though, she’s caught him off guard.It’s not until Ginny clears her throat that he realizes she’s actually expecting an answer.“Erm. How long will they be in purgatory, do you reckon?” she asks, her brown eyes wide and seeking — and Harry recognizes the tone of voice she uses to sound more nonchalant than she feels.He shrugs and turns to walk up the path. Truthfully, he’d be ready whenever… but they’ve got plans. They’ve both got plans. Ginny slips her hand in his again, and when he responds, he tries very hard to pretend that they aren’t hedging around a topic with more gravity than anything they’ve discussed before.“Well,” he says fairly. “We’re each really interested in getting into the other’s trousers. Oh, and as a totally unrelated aside, you’re much better at brewing potions.”Ginny gives a dark chuckle, but he can tell she caught his drift; one look at Teddy solidifies that babies don’t always happen on purpose. “Yeah,” she agrees, “but you’re much better at charms. Let’s just hope our redundancy is idiot-proof.”Harry chortles in understanding as they finally approach the gate to the Burrow, holding it open for her as he does. He’s glad they’re on the same page with that one. The very thought of that conversation with Molly (while Ginny’s still in school) is something that makes his stomach turn… He turns back to face her and gestures for her to head inside — but Ginny’s paused in her tracks, a weird expression on her face.“I guess,” she half-laughs, as if the thought is only just occurring to her, “we… actually have time to talk about this now. Don’t we?”Ginny gives him a hopeful smile as her cheeks turn pink again, and when she bites her lip, Harry feels a near magnetic compulsion to kiss her.
So he does.She responds eagerly, melting against him as her hands clasp around his neck. And in truth, they probably would have been content to deepen the snog with wandering hands and lilting whispers — but then Harry remembers the door not ten meters away. And the fact that it’s broad daylight. He finally sighs and pulls back, although he keeps her body pressed to his. Harry needs to feel her, now more than ever, even if they can’t be nearly as close as they’d like. Matching grins stretch across their faces as his eyes penetrate hers, as his hand comes up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Yeah, he thinks, cupping her jaw. We have time.
280 notes
·
View notes
Text
Oscurità, amore mio - I
I have absolutely no goddamn clue just what the hell I’m doing with this AU but i’m having way too much fun to stop.
inspired by a book series i’m reading and it’s hilarious and i just kept thinking “what if” and then well suddenly this ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ sorrynotsorry
A fair warning: This story is not going to have an actual plot. It’s going to be all over the place. The parts/chapters will be random scenes of whatever my brain decides to concoct, although most of them will most likely be Inukag interactions, rating from K all the way to M. They will probably also be very sporadic. There will be violence, blood (nothing hardcore), sex, and other scandalous/nefarious things. If you’d like me to rate each chapter at the beginning so you know what to expect, lemme know.
Big thanks go out to @sssuperbartola and @sesshsbae for agreeing to be my Italian customs/facts and translator sources lol. A lot of this story will take place in Italy becasue I wanted a change of scenery and they are my Italian queens <3 thanks guys, I appreciate it so much! Irene I know you were looking forward to this, so I hope you enjoy! ^_^
Note: There has been a title change! Previously known as Dalle Ceneri, Oscurità, amore mio means “Darkness, my love” in Italian.
Read on AO3.
The only reason why he’d noticed her at all was because out of all of the humans packed like vile smelling sardines into this sorry excuse of an establishment, grinding, swapping spit and outright fucking on the dance floor, her thoughts were definitely not normal considering the type of place this was. Because while everyone else was thinking about sex and booze and getting their next fix…
Hers was of the more musical variety detailing a certain violet creature from the 1950’s that had a penchant for eating people.
As soon as the infuriatingly annoying lyrics crashed through his frontal lobe and demanded his admittedly reluctant undivided attention – because the feminine voice in his head was very loud and damned near drowned out every other voice – he’d nearly spit out his drink trying to withhold the abrupt and completely untoward laugh that bubbled up in his throat. Which was very fortunate, because he’d paid six euros for a single glass of whiskey. He’d rather not waste his money spitting it all over the place.
He’d recovered quickly, however, and against his better judgment, he’d honed in on that feminine voice still mentally belting out those annoying lyrics, and as he focused solely on that particular thought trail – or in this case, song – everything else faded into the background in a dull roar that was easily ignored. The lyrics became crisp and clear in his head, as if they were being said directly into his ear, and with his concentration locked onto his target, finding the source was only the simple matter of slackening his hold, for lack of a better term, on the thought and allowing it to more or less drag his gaze back from whence it originated. He likened the unique sensation to riding along the invisible current in the thought’s wake, so to speak, although it would be harder to explain to someone who was not privy to mind reading as he was.
...one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater. Sure looks strange to me. Well he came down to earth and he lit in a tree...
And in this case the source just happened to be a black-haired bombshell sitting at the other end of the L shaped bar counter, wearing a skin-tight black leather top and skirt that had certain areas on his body tightening coupled with sexy as hell thigh-high boots. However if he had to choose the most starling thing about her, it wouldn’t be her choice in attire, her questionable taste in music, or even the hint of black lace he could see peeking out just barely from under the waistband that clingy leather skirt.
It would be the fact at how utterly and completely bored she looked. With her legs crossed at the knee and her elbow propped on the counter with her chin resting in her hand, her expression was one of blank indifference as she stared sightlessly at the air in front of her, one of her booted feet swinging idly along to the tune in her head.
It was a one-eyed, one-horned—hm?
There was no glass in front of her, suggesting she hadn’t ordered a drink, or if she had she’d declined a refill and already paid her tab. Curious despite himself, he probed a little deeper, sifting through surface thoughts overlaid with the general impatience of waiting, and that should have alarmed him but as distracted as he was, he failed to notice the annoying lyrics had stopped and a pleased smile had surfaced on full, kissable lips.
Oh, there you are.
Inuyasha balked at the thought and frowned. That was...quite random—
I was wondering when you’d finally show yourself. I’ve been singing that atrocious song for an hour now. I nearly put myself into a coma.
Or perhaps not so random. What?
Well, I had to get your attention somehow, she thought and it belatedly occurred to him that she was speaking to him. Which meant she was aware of his presence in her mind. Shit. I figured singing the most obnoxious song known to man in a place where the norm would usually consist of sex and alcohol would be like homing beacon. Her smile turned sly. Glad to see I was right.
Inuyasha gaped at her. The little wench had played him.
Fuck. Why the hell did that turn him on. What the fuck.
Quickly regathering his wits about him and turning his head so she didn’t catch him gawking at her – this new development required a sense of caution now – Inuyasha schooled his expression and lifted his glass to his lips.
Well, well. This is certainly a surprise, but not an unwelcome one, I must say. Didn’t expect to find another MR all the way out here in this dingy little pub. He tipped his glass back and slanted a glance at the dark-haired woman. She was smiling and looked downright delighted.
Actually, she said and out of his peripheral he watched her swivel around in her stool, dark eyes peering out over the other patrons and he knew she was looking for him. I’m not a mind reader.
He frowned. Then how—
It’s more like…reading an individual’s emotions rather than thoughts, she interrupted and from the look of concentration on her face, she was trying to pinpoint his location using the emotions she could sense from him. Difficult, but not impossible, as evidenced when he saw her look over in his direction, however her eyes passed over where he sat.
Inuyasha kept a neutral face as he pondered her words, and though it was appealing to give a hint as to who she was speaking with, he found himself wanting to draw this out even longer, reluctant to end the exchange so quickly. He lifted his half-empty glass, stared at the amber liquid, and then out of nowhere realization dawned.
If you’re thinking the word ‘empath,’ she said, most likely picking up on the enlightenment that replaced muddled confusion, then you would be correct.
She sounded pleased and Inuyasha tried very hard to mask the surprise that rode on the coattails of that clarification. Empaths were rare, more so than even mind readers, and Inuyasha considered himself fortunate to have run into one here of all places.
Which most likely meant that she was here for a very specific reason because you didn’t just accidentally run into an empath. That was not how it worked. They were rare for a reason; they did not like to be found, and were experts and concealing their presence. So to have this woman openly admit that they were an empath could mean one of two things.
One, she was heavily protected, or two, she was looking for someone.
A minute later after shamelessly rooting around in her thoughts he knew which one it was, and it was a challenge to keep his initial reaction contained, a mix of bewilderment, suspicion, and delight. It was a strange reaction to be sure, and it didn’t exactly bode well for him, but he didn’t care. The situation had just significantly increased in the benefits factor for him, and he wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass him by. And besides…
Inuyasha always liked a challenge.
Intrigued, and not bothering to hide his curious amusement, Inuyasha remained blank faced as her eyes skimmed over him again, no doubt trying to match up the emotions she was sensing to a person’s expressions and movements. So far she wasn’t having any luck and he fought a smirk when he heard an annoyed huff over the dull roar of the pub. What, did she think he was going to make it easy for her?
She suddenly brightened and once again, Inuyasha had to resist the urge to shake his head in amazement. Did she even realize how obvious she was being?
And now you’re wondering why I would out myself like this, she accurately guessed and he had to applaud her. She was very good at what she did which told him she had a lot of experience under her belt. Damn, this just kept getting better.
He wasn’t worried, though. Despite what she was thinking, he wasn’t who she was looking for. He was confident in this because there was one particular reason why he was set apart from other mind readers, a singular advantage he possessed that would become glaringly obvious the second she identified him. It sort of made him disappointed because it would have been a lot more fun if he had been her target.
Well, fun for him, anyway. He couldn’t say the same for her and he lifted the half-empty glass to his lips to hide his grin.
The dark-haired woman laughed and the pleasant sound had his ears involuntarily flicking toward her from beneath his black ballcap. I’d love to tell you, she began and Inuyasha sensed a but. But I think that’s the kind of conversation that should be spoken face to face, don’t you think?
Hah. Nailed it.
So, why don’t you tell me who you are, and we can have a nice long heart to heart outside where we’ll have some…peace and quiet. Whaddaya say? What she did next cemented his idle suspicions that she knew he was watching her despite not knowing where he was; she swung around in her seat and thrust out her chest, fingertips drawing a tantalizing path over her collarbones, across her breasts, then further down her trim figure over a flat, toned stomach.
He couldn’t help it; momentarily forgetting himself he growled but then quickly whipped his head around before she could catch his very appreciative gaze. Damn, he had to hand it to her; she knew exactly what she was doing and if he wasn’t careful he was going to give himself away before he was ready. It was bad enough that she could probably feel his lust for her, and a quick glimpse into her mind revealed she had and was feeling quite proud of herself.
Fuck. He had to do something. He had to give himself an advantage again, up the ante somehow because if he didn’t she’d realize who – and what – he was, ending this little game of theirs, and he didn’t want that, at least not yet. But dammit, she was getting closer to finding—
Inuyasha suddenly stopped, and then wanted to kick himself for being so stupid. Duh, you idiot, he scolded himself, rolling his eyes and then in the next instant, when her eyes were averted for a split second, he vanished.
Kagome scanned the seats at the other end of the L shaped bar again, paused, and then slowly backtracked. Her eyes landed on an empty seat that she could have sworn had been occupied not even five seconds earlier. She tried to remember what he looked like, because the tall, muscular figure that came to mind could only belong to a man, and the more she thought about it, the more she could recall who had sat in the now vacant seat. She hadn’t seen his face, but the thick arm muscles and broad back encased in a black t-shirt had definitely warranted her appreciative attention, and coupled with the short, shaggy silver hair, the attraction had been almost instantaneous and just imaging what all that glorious muscle looked like naked had her body tingling in interesting places.
It was too bad she was on the job, otherwise she probably would have put her seduction skills to good use, but it was just as well he was gone now. Her boss would consider him a distraction, and she could remember quite vividly what had happened the last time she’d allowed herself to become distracted.
She would rather not have a repeat performance of that particular moment in time, thankyouverymuch.
Shaking her head, Kagome huffed and continued her search. Well? she prodded after his emotional grid had been silent for several minutes. She trailed a finger down the slender column of her neck, meant to entice her target as a provocative smile curled her lips. Come to me and we can—
A hand, much larger than her own and tipped with deadly looking claws circled the back of her throat and Kagome’s thoughts came to a screeching halt, her eyes going wide as a gasp whispered past her lips. She tensed, waiting for the inevitable crushing of her windpipe, cursing herself because there was only one person who that hand could possibly belong to.
“Tell me, mia piccola fenice,” a male voice growled in her ear and Kagome shivered as hot breath washed over her neck even as her eyes went wide at his chosen nickname. “How did you know? I find I’m rather curious.” He was so close his chest against her back and she hated herself for wondering how it would feel to have him pressed flush against her. He chuckled and her face flamed.
Get out, asshole. “Know?” she said aloud, feigning ignorance, though she should have known better.
He tsked. “Don’t play coy,” he rumbled and gave a subtle flex of his fingers around her throat, however he didn’t squeeze. “I’m giving you the rare chance to tell me instead of just finding out the easy way. Don’t make me regret that decision.” Talons dragged across her flesh and Kagome bit her lip to stifle any traitorous sounds from escaping.
Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth since it would be entirely foolish if she refused, Kagome slowly relaxed once she realized he wasn’t going to squeeze her throat and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her racing heart, although his breath on her neck was very distracting—
He chuckled again and Kagome mentally screamed, as much as in frustration as to force him out of her private thoughts. Goddammit!
Clearing her throat, her face red as she glared mulishly ahead of her, Kagome tried very hard to ignore the warmth of his hand as she gathered her thoughts. How did one explain what came naturally to them?
“Normal humans are very easy to read,” she began, her voice soft in case of eavesdroppers. “Their emotional grids are very loud and open, unguarded without fear of manipulation because our existence are just myths to them, stories to tell late at night, or whatever. Why should they feel the need to protect themselves against a mental assault, right? It doesn’t take much for me to get a lock on and, well...” She shrugged and he grunted in understanding. “So when I enter a place like a bar, the typical feelings I expect are lust, joy, and a general sense of carelessness.”
Inuyasha considered that and nodded; that’s basically what his nose told him as well so it made sense. It didn’t answer his question, though, so he gestured for her to go on with a wave of his hand.
Impatient, she inwardly snorted and he smirked, but let it go. She sighed, and she sounded a bit piqued as she continued, “You guys, on the other hand, are similar but have one notable difference. Your grids are more subdued. Um...muted, so to speak. You’re privy to the existence of humans such as myself, or even other creatures seeking to destroy, so therefore it’s an unconscious habit for you to mentally guard yourself against anything that might manage to sneak past your defenses, thus your emotions aren’t as loud or open. It’s like...” She paused, wrinkling her nose as she tried to come up with an accurate description. “It’s like your grid is masked, or concealed behind a mesh wall. I can feel them to an extent as little wisps escape through the holes, but unless I’m focused solely on you, I’m unable to get an accurate read.”
Inuyasha absorbed all of that with a contemplative frown, turning her words over in his head, and he didn’t truly understand what she meant until she finished with, not without an eye roll, “So in other words, your presence is an annoying smudge on my otherwise crystal clear and perfect landscape of emotions and it’s instinct to investigate it until I find the source. Happy now, Dracula?”
Inuyasha snorted and couldn’t help but retort back with, “You know Dracula’s not the original name.”
“You’re all the same to me,” was her snappish reply and, goddamn, he loved her sass. When was the last time he’d enjoyed a woman’s company so much when he wasn’t fucking her against the nearest hard surface?
“Yeah, see,” he drawled and something in his voice had Kagome’s brow puckering in puzzlement. “About that. We actually ain’t all the same.”
“What do you mean?”
“For starters,” he said, his tone blasé, “my diet doesn’t include a weekly dose of O positive.”
Completely confused now, because every vampire required blood at least once a week to survive, Kagome jerked herself out of his hold and he let her, his hand falling away. She took a few steps before whirring around to face him, expecting soulless black eyes, a pale complexion, and mouth spread into a lethal fang-bearing grin.
She hit one out of three and though it should have made her feel marginally better, the look he was giving her suggested she was still very much in danger.
*Mia piccola fenice - my little phoenix
I | II | III
#Oscurità amore mio#part 1#inuyasha#kagome#inukag#keizfanfiction#fanfiction#supernatural au#i am going to regret this but#tool late now#IT'S GONNA BE ONE HELLUVA RIDE KIDDOS#HANG ON AND HERE WE GOOOOOOOO#part 2 is in the works!#buwahahahaah
122 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ur knifey space boy for the ABCs
A: Aptitude1. what are your oc’s natural abilities, things they’ve been doing since young?
Castor’s always been very athletically inclined. He’s a rowdy boy that likes to get dirty and scuffle with people and run around and throw things. It’s why he’s so strong even though he looks like a twig and is a shorty– he’s just always been that kind of kid.
2. what activities have they participated in?
There wasn’t a whole lot in the way of “activities” available to him growing up. His father, Xavier, taught him to sword fight when he was young as an outlet for Castor’s natural fiery temper and energy. His other father, Elliott, was more into mechanics and tinkering with things, so Castor tended to help him in the garage sometimes. Apart from that, he kind of just occupied his time with whatever random pastimes he could come up with.
3. what abilities do they have that they’ve worked for?
His strength and his sword fighting, of course. Natural talent can only get a person so far.
4. what things are they bad at?
He’s never been a very creatively inclined person. Never ask him to draw anything or play an instrument. It will be an assault on your senses you will not recover from.
5. what is their most impressive talent?
His knife throwing accuracy is ridiculously on-point. (Heh. On-point. Because knives.)
B: Basics1. what is their hair color?
Black with a blue fringe.
2. what is their eye color?
Kind of a medium brown.
3. how tall are they?
5′5″
4. how old are they?
He just turned 19.
5. how much do they weigh?
137lbs.
C: Comfort1. how do they sit in a chair?
Slouched, always. Will definitely prop his feet up on something if there’s anything within range. Is also the person that will straddle a chair and fold his arms on the back of it instead of just turning the chair around.
2. in what position do they sleep?
He could sleep pretty much anywhere in any position. He sleeps best sprawled out on his stomach or on his back.
3. what is their ideal comfort day?
It used to be spending the day doing simple things with the people he cared about— working in the garage with Elliott, cooking dinner with Xavier, taking a walk with his best friend. Now the closest he gets to comfort days is training until his bones ache, washing away the pain in the shower, and then drinking himself into a stupor.
4. what is their major comfort food? why?
Honestly, he just probably fucking scarfs bread when he’s upset. It was always easy to get his hands on at home and he could throw random shit on it to make it more interesting without putting in too much effort. Anything more complicated was a special treat, so he just. Got used to eating bread all the time. It makes him feel better.
5. who is the best at comforting them when down?
Either his dads or his best friend.
D: Decoration1. how would they decorate a house if they had one under their name?
His house would probably be pretty minimalistic, just because he’s never really had much nor cared for appearances. There’d be some signs to show it was lived in— clothes scattered in a few places, dishes in the sink, that kind of thing. Maybe he’d have a few posters up on the walls or pictures of people he loved around, but otherwise it’d be pretty bare.
2. how would they decorate their child’s room?
He would have no fucking clue how to decorate a kid’s room but damn if he wouldn’t try his best. His fathers could only give him so much to decorate with as a kid, so he kind of just collected things he thought were neat and put them in random places in his room. For his own kid, he’d try to give them a basic setup of cute/cool things and then let them decide how else they wanted to decorate as they got older.
3. how do they decorate their own room?
Literally it’s a disaster all the time he doesn’t bother decorating he just throws shit on the furniture and the floor. There, it’s his now.
4. what type of clothes and accessories do they wear?
He wears things that’re comfortable and easy to move in. Lots of blue and black, loose shirts and flexible pants, boots, gloves (fingerless, of course), those kinds of things. He also has a necklace that he keeps hidden under his shirt— a simple pendant with a piece of tree bark held inside.
5. do they like makeup/nail/beauty trends?
He doesn’t usually do makeup or anything because it just takes too long and he really doesn’t care about his appearance. He can be convinced to put on eyeliner or paint his nails on occasion, though.
E: External Personality1. does the way they do things portray their internal personality?
Yes and no. He is a rather fiery boy by nature, and that certainly comes out in the way he acts. But he’s also much softer and more fragile than he lets on— his short temper only gets worse when he’s trying to keep his guard up and prevent people from realizing just how lonely and easily breakable he is.
2. do they do things that conform to the norm?
I mean, he’s part of a rebellion and basically hates everything the “norm” stands for, so not really.
3. do they follow trends or do their own thing?
Honestly Castor doesn’t even know what trends are so he definitely does his own thing.
4. are they up-to-date on the internet fads?
What’s an Internet.
5. do they portray their personality intentionally or let people figure it out on their own?
He’s basically an open book, so even if he doesn’t try to let people in and see how his personality really is, it happens anyway.
F: Fun1. what do they do for fun?
Hits things, tinkers with things, broods, stuffs his face with food, hangs out with the people whose company he actually enjoys, all that good stuff.
2. what is their ideal party?
No party at all. Alcohol alone in his room is party enough.
3. who would they have the most fun with?
His dads, his best friend, his new boyfriend Percy, his new sons Ravi and Crumb, and his new buddy Val.
4. can they have fun while conforming to rules?
Yes and no. He has a fun time breaking rules but he doesn’t need to break them to have fun.
5. do they go out a lot?
Mostly just for jobs, or missions now that he’s part of the Freedom Vessel. Sometimes he does go out just for fun, but not nearly as much as he used to on Earth.
G: Gorgeous1. what is their most attractive external feature?
If you asked him, he’d probably give you a blank look and then stammer out something about maybe his hair. Objectively, his eyes are also contenders, mostly for how expressive they are.
2. what is the most attractive part of their personality?
Again, if you asked him, he wouldn’t really know how to answer and might mumble something about how he’s pretty brave, he guesses. If you asked someone else, it’d be his unwavering loyalty for the people he cares about, and the softness he hides underneath all the prickles.
3. what benefits come with being their friend?
He would literally die for you. If you need something done or help with anything, he’s there for you. He’ll soften up around you and let himself be vulnerable and honest for once in his life. If he trusts you, he’ll make sure you never doubt that you can trust him.
4. what parts of them do they like and dislike?
He likes how strong he is and how unafraid he is to fight for what he wants. He thinks he’s a fairly smart guy (even if a very oblivious one). On the other hand, he hates that he has a hard time connecting with people and that his temper tends to get the better of him all the time.
5. what parts of others do they envy?
He envies people that are able to just open up about their lives and themselves like it’s nothing. He envies people that are still innocent, that haven’t had to see hardship in their lives yet, or can somehow move past that hardship and still be optimistic about the world.
H: Heat1. do they rather a hot or cold room?
He’s not a fan of the cold, but he’d rather have a cold room because he likes bundling up in his blankets when he sleeps.
2. do they prefer summer or winter?
Generally summer.
3. do they like the snow?
It never really snowed where he lived, so he’s not all that familiar with it. He wouldn’t like the cold all that much, but he’d have fun with all the different things you can do in the snow.
4. do they have a favorite summer activity?
He really likes swimming. It was something he could easily do back home on Earth when it was hot out, and he has a lot of fond memories of swimming with his family.
5. do they have a favorite winter activity?
He’s never really done all that much that would be considered a “winter” activity. If he got the chance to try it, though, he’d enjoy snowboarding.
I: In-the-closet1. what is their sexuality?
He’s a very, very gay boy.
2. have they ever questioned their sexuality?
Not really. He grew up with two gay dads, so they always emphasized that whatever kind of people he ended up preferring would be totally natural and nothing to worry about. It was fairly easy for him to accept his own sexuality once he realized what it was.
3. have they ever questioned their gender?
Nope, he’s happy the way he is.
4. would/was their family be okay with them being LGBT?
Oh, his dads were in full support of it when he told them. They would’ve never disapproved of anything like that.
5. how long would/did it take for them to come out?
He realized he was gay fairly young— around when he was thirteen or so, and he came out to his dads fairly soon after that. If there was anyone he could trust with that, he knew it’d be them.
J: Joy1. what makes them happy?
Punching people in the face who deserve it, fiddling with mechanical things, getting affection from the people he loves (he craves it much more than he’d ever admit), sitting outside where he can just relax and listen to the world around him, dogs, roughhousing with people, hearing his loved ones’ voices, curling up in a blanket burrito.
2. who makes them happy?
His dads, his best friend, Ravi and Crumb, Percy, and Val. The list will likely expand as time goes on. At least we hope.
3. are there any songs that bring them joy?
His best friend used to sing all the time, so there’s a few favorite songs Castor picked up from her that he catches himself humming every now and again. He loves them as much as they make him homesick.
4. are they happy often?
Not nearly as often as he used to be, and even then he was always a bit of a grump.
5. what brings them the most joy in the world?
Being with his family, knowing that the people he cares about are safe.
K: Kill1. have they ever thought about suicide?
There was a brief period of his life where he was in a darker place than he ever wants to be in again. At that point, he considered it a few times.
2. have they ever thought about homicide?
If you count wanting to murder as many Genesis assholes as possible, then yes, quite often.
3. if they could kill anyone without punishment, would they? who?
The people who took his family from him, and Queen Genesis.
4. who would miss them if they died?
His dads (who he can only hope are still alive) and his best friend (who already misses him). Apart from that, he doesn’t think anyone cares about him enough to miss him if he’s gone.
5. who would be happy they died, anyone?
Likely the people of Genesis and anyone who had a hand in squashing the Earth rebellion.
L: Lemons1. what is their favorite fruit?
Pears are pretty tasty.
2. what is their least favorite fruit?
He doesn’t like anything super tart, though raspberries in particular don’t agree with him.
3. are there any foods they hate?
He absolutely despises mushrooms. Do not bring them anywhere near him.
4. do they have any food intolerances?
None that he’s aware of.
5. what is their favorite food?
Chocolate cake holds a very special place in his heart. He rarely got sweets at home just because the means of making them weren’t super accessible, but he always got homemade chocolate cake on his birthday.
M: Maternal1. would they want a daughter or a son?
At the moment, kids are the last thing on his mind, but someday he’d like them. He wouldn’t really care if he had a son or a daughter— he’d love them the same either way.
2. how many children do they want?
If he really thought about it, probably just one or two.
3. would they be a good parent?
As much as he’d be constantly terrified that he was a bad father, he’d be a pretty good one, all things considered. He’d certainly love his kids just as much as his fathers loved him.
4. what would they name a son? what would they name a daughter?
If he had a son, he’d definitely name him Xavier or Elliott, or perhaps both, for his dads. If he had a daughter, his first instinct would be to name her after his best friend.
5. would they adopt?
Absolutely. He was adopted, after all, why wouldn’t he want to extend the same kind of love to a kid who needs it?
N: Never Have I Ever1. what would they never do?
Intentionally hurt someone he loves, willingly stay outside during a thunderstorm, give up looking for his fathers.
2. what have they never done that they want to do?
Visit the snow, eat an entire batch of cookies in one sitting, be taller than 5’5”, meet his birth parents, kiss a cute boy.
3. is there anything they absolutely can’t believe people do?
Well he can’t believe any of the shit Genesis pulls, but that’s a given. He also can’t believe people that put mayo on their sandwiches.
4. what is the most embarrassing thing they’ve done?
Apart from losing a push-up contest to his crush, he once took a dare from his best friend to streak through their hometown in broad daylight because he’s an idiot and will never back down from a challenge. He ran right into Xavier in the process and got marched back home on a massive walk of shame, with Xavier greeting every single person they saw with, “Hey, have you met my idiot son, Castor?”
5. have they done anything they thought they’d never do?
He left his best friend behind.
O: Optimism1. are they optimistic or pessimistic?
He’s definitely a pessimist.
2. are they openly optimistic, throwing it on others?
Not at all. He’s more likely to throw his pessimism on people.
3. are they good at giving advice?
He can’t even get his own shit together let alone help other people get their shit together.
4. is there anyone in their life that throws optimism on them?
His best friend used to be his main source of optimism, but since he doesn’t have that anymore, it’ll be up to all the new people he’s met to do the same. Mostly Ravi and Crumb.
5. were they always optimistic?
Even as a little kid he was never really the optimistic type, so you could say he’s always been pessimistic.
P: Personality1. what is their best personality trait?
His unwavering loyalty.
2. what is their worst personality trait?
His fiery temper.
3. what of their personality do others love?
Speaking from the perspective of a certain bird boy, it’s the softness that lies underneath Castor’s prickly exterior and stupid, brash decisions.
4. what of their personality do others envy?
While he probably wouldn’t agree, others might envy him for his ability to act without overthinking things too much (though that tends to get him in trouble), or his tendency to be overly honest (which also gets him in trouble).
5. do they hate anything about their personality/about other’s personalities?
Obviously he hates people that are perfectly fine with or willing to oppress others. He also tends to not get along with people who also have bad tempers, because then he just clashes with them all the time. As for his own personality, sometimes he wishes he stopped to think about things before he did them, but in the moment he gets too emotional to bother.
Q: Questions1. do they ask for help?
If he can avoid it, then he’ll never be the one to ask for help.
2. do they ask questions in class?
He never really asked questions in school because he didn’t give two shits about anything he was being taught, especially when his schools tended to just preach about how wonderful Genesis was all the time.
3. do they answer questions that make them a little uncomfortable?
If poked and prodded enough, he will, though not without major reluctance and a lot of blushing.
4. do they ask weird questions?
He tends to not have much of a filter, so he might ask weird questions sometimes without really thinking about it. In general, though, he tries not to pry too much into people’s lives.
5. are they curious?
Mildly so, yeah, but he’s also incredibly oblivious to everything around him.
R: Rules1. do they follow rules?
Name any rule, and Castor has likely broken it at least once.
2. would they be a strict or laid-back parent?
A mix of both. He’d be strict in the sense of trying to protect his children and make sure nothing bad happened to his family, because he knows exactly what it’s like to lose the people he loves, and he would never want his children to know that pain, or to go through it himself again. But if it was something like, “Hey dad, can we go teepee Aunt Flor’s house,” he’d be like, “Fuck yeah, we can.”
3. have they ever been consequenced for breaking a rule?
Oh definitely. The last time he broke the rules, one of his new friends almost died, so y’know. Boy’s gotta deal with the consequences of his stupid actions.
4. have they broken any rules they now regret breaking?
He regrets breaking the rules they set on their last mission, since poor Val paid the price. Otherwise, not really. He doesn’t give much of a shit about rules.
5. do they find any rules they/others follow absolutely ridiculous?
He’s never understood parents that don’t allow their children to curse. His household never cared, so he’s been cursing like a sailor since he was about eight.
S: Streets1. are they street-smart?
Definitely. He spent a lot of time just out in the streets when he was growing up, and even in his recent line of work he’s been constantly navigating the streets.
2. would they give money to someone on the streets?
While he never really has much money to go around, he has given money to homeless people before.
3. have they ever gotten in a fight on the streets?
More than he could ever count.
4. has anything happened to them on the streets?
Honestly, a better question would be what hasn’t happened to him on the streets.
5. are they cautious when out?
Typically, yes, because nowadays he’s either on a job or trying to lay low so people don’t recognize him.
T: Truth1. are they honest?
Sometimes brutally so, yes. Though he has been yelled at for lying to children before, but in his defense, he was trying to protect his identity. And he’s proven to be an absolutely terrible liar.
2. can they tell if someone is lying?
Considering how unobservant he is, he’s probably pretty bad at telling if someone’s lying.
3. is it obvious when they’re lying?
Definitely. He’s bad at coming up with lies on the spot, so he tends to stammer and fumble if he’s put under pressure. If he can tell his lie is falling flat, he starts fidgeting and giving himself away even more.
4. have they lied about anything they regret lying about?
He regrets lying to Ravi and Crumb when he first met them because they’re sweet baby boys.
5. have they told truths that have been spread against their will?
Well, he didn’t want anyone to know what his real name was when he first met everyone on the Freedom Vessel, but that went south real fast. He’s also not a big fan of being known as “the kid whose parents started the Earth rebellion.”
U: Underdog1. have they been bullied?
He was bullied a little bit in school because he’s always tended to be a small kid, but once people realized how feisty he was, they tended to leave him alone. He’s been bullied a lot more in recent years by adults who don’t take a scrawny, angry kid seriously.
2. have they bullied anyone?
While he’s more than willing to fight people, Castor’s no bully.
3. have they been physically attacked by a bully?
If we’re counting the grown adults that pick on him every now and again, then definitely.
4. have they ever been doubted?
Oh, absolutely. Most of all by himself.
5. have they surprised people with being good at something?
Most people don’t expect him to be nearly as strong as he is, considering his size. It makes for a fun surprise when he gets into fights with people.
V: Vomit1. do they vomit often?
Hardly at all. He doesn’t usually get sick.
2. do they get lots of stomach aches?
Nah, not really.
3. are they good at comforting someone ill?
Yes and no. He tries his best, he really does, and he gets genuinely concerned when someone he cares about is sick. He’s just not very good at comfort in general, so he tends to be a little awkward about it.
4. what do they like as far as comfort goes?
He’s gotten used to taking care of himself when he’s sick or generally feeling like garbage, so pretty much any kind of comfort or care would be a welcome surprise. His fathers used to get him soup or frozen treats or whatever he needed to feel better when he was a kid, and they’d always keep him company when he wasn’t feeling well. He misses that.
5. do they burp, cough, or hiccup most when nauseous? when vomiting?
Burp, I guess? And coughing when vomiting?
W: Water1. do they drink enough water?
Not nearly as much as he should. He’s not the best at taking care of himself.
2. have they learned to swim?
Indeed.
3. do they like to swim?
He doesn’t do it very often, but he’s always liked it.
4. can they dive?
Definitely. One of the first things he demanded to learn was diving when his fathers were teaching him.
5. can they swim without holding their nose?
For sure.
X: Xylophone1. what is their favorite genre of music?
Anything that fits in the vaguely alternative/rock category, or sounds remotely angsty.
2. do they have a favorite song?
Not at the moment. He tends to just shuffle through random things that appeal to him without really getting attached to one in particular.
3. do they have a favorite band/artist/singer?
Pretty much the same deal with artists and bands as with songs.
4. can they sing well?
He’s not particularly stellar at singing, but he’s not bad. He doesn’t do it very often, and usually if he does, it’s not intentional. It’s something he does absentmindedly from time to time.
5. can they rap?
Definitely not.
Y: You1. how old were you when you created them?
The ripe old age of 21, since I came up with the boy a few months ago.
2. what inspired you to create them?
I needed a good kid for a good space campaign, so I came up with his design first, and then the rest fell into place.
3. were they different when they were first created?
Not really. He hasn’t had much of a chance to grow yet.
4. do you enjoy writing them more than other characters?
I don’t really write for him so much as play him, but he’s currently my favorite of my kids to play.
5. what’s your favorite thing about them?
I think Castor embodies one of my favorite character tropes— angry, feisty kid who’s actually just scared and soft and lonely once you get to know them. He carries a lot of weight on his shoulders and it’s a lot of fun to play around with him. He’s one of those kids that’s grown up way too fast, but is still a kid at heart, and both of those sides get to come out in their own time.
Z: Zebra1. what’s their favorite animal?
He hates to admit it because he’s afraid he’ll get made fun of, considering his personality is so opposite his favorite animal, but he really loves otters.
2. do they like animals?
In general, yeah.
3. cats or dogs?
Generally dogs, but cats are cool, too. He certainly acts more like a cat than a dog.
4. what’s their dream pet?
A big ol’ fluffy dog he can just collapse on at the end of a long day and cuddle with.
5. do they have any pets at the moment?
Not at the moment, no.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Walter x Daniels - Headcanons (Part 1)
@walter-daniels
Alright, I have been wanting to do this for a while, if only to sort out the thoughts in my head for a Walter/Daniels fanfic ;) They're a work-in-progress right now, but I hope you guys like them anyway!
Okay, so ignoring that bullshit ending (what ending? It ended with Walter promising to help Daniels build a log-cabin, duh)…
They get to Origae-6 and it’s everything they could have hoped for, really; Walter awakens Daniels first because she’s the captain and then Tennessee. They go to check the planet out first before waking any colonists (after the last time they set down on a new planet, they’re not taking any chances) and it’s just like they had planned it to be. No threats in sight, no weird alien eggs, no deserted spaceships, no rogue blonde androids.
So they set about getting the colonists out and soon they start constructing the houses and village for the colony. Walter, even with one hand, proves to be a great help. There are a few wary glances because surely the captain knows she has to decommission him, he was just there for the journey but no one says a word. On Daniels’ request, a spare hand is found and attached to Walter (“Well, you’re more efficient this way,” She shrugs when he thanks her)
The question of what happened to the rest of the crew arises, of course, and Daniels has to decide whether to tell the truth or to spare them with a white lie. She doesn’t think that David will be able to find them, not unless he somehow finds another spaceship – and even so, it would be a seven year journey. However, surely the deceased crew deserve to be remembered and respected with honour, for their bravery? To her surprise, it’s Tennessee who suggests tweaking the truth – there would be no point in worrying the colonists, after all.
“There was a neutrino burst, and unfortunately we lost most of the crew because of it” – it’s not a lie, not really, but it’s not exactly the whole truth either.
After the final buildings have been constructed and the colony is celebrating, Walter approaches Daniels with the decommission pack and presents it to her silently. Tennessee pretends not to notice and puts some distance between himself and the two of them, suddenly interested in his beer.
Daniels just smiles weakly, “You still have to help me with my cabin – you’re not getting off that easy” – and for now that’s enough to make Walter nod in agreement because he did promise. She knows, however, that she won’t have that excuse forever.
They find a spot a short distance away from the colony, surrounded by beautiful foliage and by a lake; it’s perfect, just what her husband would have wanted. She hasn’t got a clue what the fuck to do, how to start, but Walter is more than adept; now with two hands, he helps to measure everything so that it’s correctly proportioned, memorises the blueprints and starts to help her replicate them.
Tennessee offers to help at first, but he steps down because he knows that this is something that Daniels and Walter have to do, just the two of them – he’d only be over-stepping a boundary, he feels.
It takes just over a month for the cabin to be built and finished, furnishings and all. Daniels feels unwell when she notices the bed that should have been for two and not one, when she looks around and wishes Jake were with her to celebrate – because this was what he dreamed of, why he had wanted to do this mission.
She spends that first night in the cabin alone, looking at photos of her husband and drinking beer that Tennessee has slipped to her. Walter leaves her, knowing that she needs some time alone. In the early hours after midnight, Daniels finds herself wishing that she’d asked Walter to stay with her – if only for some company.
The next afternoon, when Daniels rejoins the main colony area, Walter again presents her with the decommission pack – and she doesn’t have an excuse now really. At least, not a viable one. It’s her duty, she knows, as the captain to decommission Walter so that his parts can be used as building materials and the like, it’s what she has to do. She finds herself at a loss for words.
Tennessee steps in and jokes that they need his help taking apart the ship and storing things still – the colony is not completely settled just yet. Walter frowns, not quite understanding, but doesn’t argue.
Another week passes, and again Walter approaches Daniels with the decommission pack – she hesitates before making her decision right there and then: she can’t. She absolutely refuses to decommission him because she doesn’t know what she’d do without him.
“No, I’m not doing it.”
Walter frowns. “But you are the captain. It is your duty-”
“Fuck duty,” She interrupts. “I’m not decommissioning you, Walter. You’re a friend, and you deserve to be a part of this colony just as much as anyone else.”
Tennessee just shrugs and grins. “You heard the lady – captain’s orders.”
Daniels starts to spend more and more time with Walter in the cabin they built; she doesn’t want to face the colonists, doesn’t want to have to force herself to smile for him – with Walter, he doesn’t care if she has to feel grief, she doesn’t have to pretend. Sometimes just knowing that he’s there, ready to listen and not make any judgements, is enough.
She has nightmares nearly every night, of course; about Jacob in the pod, about the aliens, about David. One night, she wakes sweating and crying – and she realizes that she doesn’t want to be alone, she doesn’t feel safe alone, so she throws one of Jacob’s old coats on and sets out for the colony area.
Walter doesn’t need to sleep, of course – he’s instead in a small tent reading to pass the time. He hears her footsteps and her breathing and exits the tent to find what’s wrong. To his surprise, Daniels is close to tears when she sees him and she wraps her arms around him; she doesn’t want to be alone, she’s terrified, so could he please just for tonight stay in the cabin with her? Not necessarily in the same room, she amends hurriedly, just in the cabin so that she knows she’s safe for the night.
It’s his duty to look after the crew and colonists, so he agrees immediately.
When Daniels awakes the next morning, hair sticking up and rings around her eyes, Walter is attempting to make her breakfast – he doesn’t eat it himself, but he thinks he knows how to make human food well enough.
(He really doesn’t – she nearly gags but she forces it down with a smile because it’s the thought that counts. She can teach him later how to scramble eggs, he’s a good learner)
That evening, as she retreats to the cabin after a day of dealing with the colonists, she looks back at Walter and hesitantly asks if perhaps he’ll stay the night again, just in the small area between the bedroom and the kitchen, so that she can feel safe. He sees no problems or errors with this, so he agrees and follows her there.
She has a nightmare that night about a dark creature ramming against glass, teeth bared, and she wakes screaming; Walter is there, checking her pulse and offering well-chosen words of comfort. Despite being a synthetic, his touch his surprisingly gentle and warm, and Daniels finds herself calming down. It’s not long until he soothes her back into sleep, albeit a short and groggy one that leaves her feeling tired – but not scared.
Within a few weeks, this has become the norm – and everyone has noticed it too. There are roughly two-thousand colonists, and it doesn’t take long for tongues to wag at the very idea that the captain is “shacking up” with an android of all things. Tennessee, the only one besides Walter and Daniels themselves, is the only one who knows the truth and he shuts down anyone who he hears bad-mouthing; the colonists like him because he is usually so easy-going, but on this topic he’s deadly serious.
As expected, it doesn’t take long at all before the colony begins to expand; pregnancies are being announced left and right, and it’s difficult to keep track of which couples are however far along. There are doctors in the colony, of course, but it’s surprisingly Walter who knows some of the best tactics to ease morning sickness or ease cramps. He knows how to work and fix equipment, he knows how far along each and every pregnant woman is, no confusion to be found, and the colony eases a tad with him – he is rather helpful.
And then, the following spring, someone goes into labour; it’s the first birth in the colony, and so everyone is rather on-edge – only Walter is unaffected, merely calculating the dilation of the cervix and estimating how long it will be until the baby arrives. His voice is smooth and comforting to the birthing mother, and he does not wince when she grips his hand so tight it would draw blood – if he had blood, that is. It takes a mere half an hour before the first ever baby – a girl – is squalling and kicking in the open.
Word spreads that Walter is a truly marvellous birthing partner; he doesn’t once lose his cool, remaining perfectly composed even as others are panicking. The colonists warm up to him even more, and everyone is suddenly glad that he wasn’t decommissioned. They overlook the fact that he spends every night in Daniels’ cabin for now – he’s only an android, after all, and the captain is mourning her husband still: nothing too untoward could be occurring, surely.
A couple of years after their arrival on Origae-6, Daniels realizes that she has feelings for Walter; she hadn’t thought she’d ever have feelings for another man, not after her husband, but she does – and it’s Walter, her friend, her confidante. Part of her argues that she should ignore it because he’s a synthetic and so it would be silly to assume – but then a wild, once-active part of her is stirring and it’s saying “who gives a fuck?” and “it’s now or never” because who knows what the future will bring?
Because this is Walter, and he is polite and sweet, it is Daniels who has to make “the first move”, and Walter hesitates for a number of reasons: for one, she is probably still grieving and saddened over the loss of her husband, so much so that she feels lonely. Secondly, he’s a synthetic and so he’s not sure that he can technically love like a human can – and that is not fair on Daniels, he feels. Finally, he’s sure that this would be crossing a line; Daniels has respect as the captain, and Walter is appreciated somewhat for his work, but the two of them together would be crossing a boundary that shouldn’t be crossed, surely.
Daniels, frankly, couldn’t give a fuck. “I don’t give a fuck,” She tells him with a shrug.
The truth is, however, that he’s somewhat hesitant because he does feel something for her – and he’s worried that this means he is becoming like David, that he is malfunctioning. A part of him is almost-afraid that he’s becoming dangerous, that he’ll be a threat to the colony – a threat to Daniels.
Suddenly two soft hands are on his face, a voice quiet and low; “you’re not anything like him,” She whispers firmly. “He was evil and deluded – but you, Walter, you’re good and kind.”
(A quick self-evaluation on himself reveals no malfunctions or short-circuits whatsoever, and a part of him is actually a bit relieved)
Daniels’ cabin becomes their cabin – it always has been, really, but now it’s slightly more official.
Nothing greatly changes, really; he does not sleep in the bed with her, though sometimes he will sit on the side until she falls asleep – and he is always close by in case he’s needed. He still makes awful breakfasts and tells awful jokes that make her laugh and wrinkle her nose. Now they hold hands in the privacy of the cabin; awkward kisses on the top of her head become more natural and fluid as they grow into their relationship.
It takes a few weeks before she notes that they haven’t actually kissed yet; Walter cocks his head and asks if that is something she would like. Daniels grins and clarifies that it’s only if he wants to because he’s not going to be forced into anything just because he’s a synthetic. He considers for a moment before giving a nod and deciding that yes, he does want to kiss her. It’s not exactly a perfect first kiss, it takes him a moment to learn and memorise the technique, but she’s smiling brightly afterwards and that makes him happier than he thought he would be.
More to come – stay tuned! :)
#headcanon#walter x daniels#daniels x walter#alien#alien: covenant#daniels#walter#daniels branson#fanfic ideas#origae-6#Tennessee
98 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
asano-nee
Sasano
onions-illustrations
Onions Illustrations
jdyf333
jdyf333
zinfer
Look at the time I'm wasting!
mekatrio
Untitled