Tumgik
#which is weird since they are not biologically related
rawliverandgoronspice · 8 months
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I drew girls from my zelda stories.....
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eetherealgoddess · 2 months
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So I feel like I wrote my last two stories a little mid so hopefully this is more detailed and well written. Also brought back the language barrier cuz I love it too and haven’t written a story with it in a while. :)
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ꨄRabid Loveꨄ
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Oneshot - Yandere Hybrid Au
❦Your deceased grandmother’s will passed down wealth, a mansion in Japan, and five exotic hyrbids❦
Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader
❣︎A little love between some of the characters as well❣︎
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Not fully proofread!
Japanese language is red
MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!
I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.
Notice:
✩Y/n is 18+. I picture him as a black male but you can see him however.
✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.
✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.
✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.
✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable
✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
Enjoy!
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Rabid Love
The manor sits on top of a hill, distant from the busy streets of the city near. Trees cover the surface, surrounding as if a natural gate. Very few houses of the same build sit near amongst the land that stretches along. It had been a few weeks since your wealthy grandmother passed down the hybrids that you’re going to live with in her enormous house. You weren’t too excited about the news at first, having heard nothing but the word “responsibility” pop into your brain, however you couldn’t help but accept the gift once the will was stated as you sat in the chair of the office.
Once all was set, you moved yourself as well as your belongings into the mansion she once lived in, sort of creeped out by the fact that her ghost may or may not be lingering. Regardless, the situation had been unsettling considering she died inside the home. You mentally shook your anxiety away as you gathered your things from the car, thinking about how you and the hybrids would get along. The note she left had warned you of all concerns as well as facts about them.
So far you only knew that they are all males, adults, and two out of five of them are biologically related. They are broad with strong personalities. They can take care of themselves for the most part and were sort of like her sons. All of the males have the alpha gene which is the only thing you have to worry about, as a female yourself considering their weird dominance obsession. It is common for male hybrids to compete for superiority, especially when it comes to humans. It’s a surprise that these particular beings even got along as well as they do.
They were already situated in the house so you were the outsider coming in, having had an estranged relationship with your deceased grandmother for the majority of your lives. It wasn’t until a few years before she died you reached out, finding out that she had moved to Japan and started a new life away from the family when you were a child. It was sweet, the time you spent together before she went into hospice and gave into the light. You were at peace that she was no longer in physical pain so you were able to mourn in a brighter way, the thought helping you feel better.
Once you made it to the door, you took a deep breath and walked into the manor to begin your new life, set for the rest of your days by the blessing from your grandmother’s will. When you finally walked in, you were met with the smell of vanilla with a pinch of cinnamon, the beautiful decor shining amongst the white walls, reflecting off the marble floor perfectly. You weren’t used to such luxury, your gaze stuck on the maroon furniture placed in the foyer. A long staircase wrapped around a pillar to the left of the entrance facing inside.
You walked further, passing the foyer and walking through the arch. A butler stood, greeting you as he grabbed your luggage, leading you to your new bedroom up the stairs. You eye the doors you pass as you both stroll down the hall. He bows once you make it to the room before leaving you to your lonesome. You eye the large bed that you couldn’t wait to lay in for the first time. It looked far better than anything you’ve ever slept on, including the pillows.
You set your luggage down and gaze at the rest of the room, glancing at your balcony as well as the television and electric fireplace under it. A maroon rug on the cream carpet placed in front of the bed as well as an ottoman, and a walk-in closet near the bathroom’s door that’s connected through the bedroom. You decide to unpack your stuff later, eager to get meeting the hybrids over with as soon as possible. When you walk out of your room, you check the halls both ways as you listen for a presence near, to no avail. You move to the staircase before ascending down all the while gently holding the railing.
You walk through the foyer, surprised to not see any butlers or hybrids as you make your way to the living space. You perk up when you hear rustling in the kitchen, rushing to the area. You see a cabinet open, covering a face as they’re bent over, blonde tail sticking up as they search for something.
“Hey.” You say, attempting to make your presence known though you watch as the person ignores you and continues their hunt. You stood awkwardly as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt.
Damn. Should I walk away?
Finally the male grabs whatever he was looking for and stands up straight, closing the cabinet’s door before looking at you as he tears the bag of a snack. His blonde hair sways as his attention shifts to you, dark eyes boring into yours as he takes a bite. His ears stick out above his head, perking up as he chews.
“Who are you?” He says, accent thick even with his mouth full, swallowing before taking another bite. One of his hands is placed in his pocket as his tail sways to the other side. His face holds an unreadable expression.
“Y/n. I’m G/n’s granddaughter.” He hums before nodding, staring at you for a little longer before walking towards the doorway, turning slightly to the side to eye you.
“Mikey.” He says before disappearing into the hall. You stood frozen in your position.
I guess that wasn’t so bad. That must’ve been the lion. He was shorter than I thought he’d be. Four more and the hardest part will be over.
You walk out of the kitchen and head out of the den down the second hall. You hear music from a familiar videogame you once played, following the sound as you prepare yourself to meet whichever hybrids are playing the game. When you reached the closed door, your hand wrapped around the doorknob. You twist the object and push the door open, entering the large room that seems to be the game room, considering the futuristic look and electronic devices that surround the area. A large flat - screen displays the game as you face the back of the gaming chairs that hold two people.
You notice one of their tails hanging to the side of the chair, indicating one of the leopards your grandmother noted. “They come off mischevious though they do have a sweet side once you surpass that phase, but don’t forget that it isn’t a facade. They find amusement in others’ suffering.”
You’re glad she was honest though it didn’t calm your nerves in the slightest. Hybrids are known to be dangerous by nature considering their societal views of the world surrounding them. It comes from a survival instinct that somehow turned into play. They are intimidating creatures, especially when they are exotic which is why they are so expensive. You move into the room further before clearing your throat quietly.
“Hello.” You state, awaiting a response as the screen continues on. The only one who acknowledges you is the person who turns their head on the left, revealing tiger ears as their golden eyes meet yours. His lips upturn into a wide grin, turning in his seat to where he sits sideways, the tiger tattoo on his neck prominent under his long black and blonde hair, as well as the tail that sticks out on the other side of the chair.
“Hey there.” He greets. “Do you know Japanese?”
You shook your head as your hand reached the back of your neck in embarrassment, smiling sheepishly. “Nah. Sorry about that.”
“You knew you were moving here yet didn’t bother to learn basic Japanese? How smart of you.” Another voice says from the seat next to the tiger who chuckles in response.
You didn’t know what the first part of his speech was, but considering the last part of it you could tell it probably wasn’t the nicest statement. Irritation creeps in but you didn't want to assume the worst so you ignored the remark.
“Kazutora.” He states before nodding over to the man who sits next to him. “That’s Rin.”
“Cool. Y/n.” You respond.
“Well, nice to meet ya, Y/n. I guess I’ll see ya around.” He says before giving you one last smile and turning back in his seat to face the screen. You nod to yourself before leaving the room with a “You too.”
You sigh as you make your way out of the hall and towards the staircase. You walk up the stairs heading to your room before deciding to find the last two cats. Then you can breathe and focus on unpacking. As you walk past the upstairs balcony, you stroll down the hall that holds the doors to the bedrooms. You notice a cracked door as well, whispers and the sound of a man talking low. The closer you get the more your eyebrows furrow as you hear wet smacking sounds. When you look through the crack, your hand covers your mouth as you eye the display.
Long pink hair drapes over the shoulders of the man bent over with his face against the bed, a red hue covering his face as drops of sweat cause his skin to glisten. His eyebrows are furrowed as his nose scrunches, fingers gripping the comforter as his body rocks against the man behind him while his ears are flat. The jaguar’s tail is held behind him by the long haired leopard’s hand, naked body glistening with sweat along with highlighting the large tattoo embedded on his torso, all the while he pounds into the man below him. His other hand grips his hips, claws piercing the skin as their skin smacks together. Both men pant while releasing occasional moans and praises.
Once your eyes make contact with purple you swiftly move away and rush towards your room, slamming the door behind you as you press your back against it. You had not expected any of that but you didn’t plan to act weird about it. It just caught you by surprise as well as making you embarrassed for being caught watching.
You sigh before turning your own tv on and beginning your unpacking process. Once you finished you heard a knock at your door. You yell, “Come in!”
The door opens to reveal the butler from earlier.
“Dinner is ready, madam.”
“Oh, thanks. Also, you don’t have to call me madam.”
“Yes, L/n” You shrug as he leads you to the empty dining room. You sit in one of the chairs and watch as the chef comes out with a covered plate, setting it in front of you before lifting it to reveal your delicious smelling dinner. You didn't hesitate to dig in, causing some to drip out of your mouth. You’ve honestly never tasted something so delectable in your life. You down the plate of food so fast, you take a second to breathe before you ask for more, tempted to get up on your own and grab it from the chef’s station.
“You’re gonna choke if you slurp it down like that again.” A voice says from the entrance of the room, causing you to turn your head in their direction. You immediately felt warmth in your face when you see the leopard from earlier, his long black and blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, swaying as he walks in before sitting at the table.
His ears stick up as his tail moves to rest against his lap, fingers connected as his face leans on the back of his hands. His leg crosses as a sly smile falls along his expression. A strand of hair falls in front of his face as his droopy eyes gaze at you from across.
“I’ll be fine.” You respond just as another plate of food is placed in front of you. “Y/n.” You shake off your anxiety considering it’s really not a big deal. They could’ve at least closed the door.
“Haitani Ran.” He offers a hand, dark claws out causing you to hesitate before accepting with your own.
He takes the opportunity to lift the back of your hand to connect his lips, releasing you as he licks the taste of your skin off his lips. You ignored the residue tingle left on your hand and began to eat your second plate. You glance at the other men who entered the room, noticing all of them except the lion.
They all sit in their seats, Rin beside Ran and the pink haired male next to them. Kazutora takes a seat next to you.
“Wonder what’s on the menu.” Rin states sarcastically.
“Our favorite as always.” Ran responds with a knowing look.
“How do you think she’ll react?” Kazutora asks with amusement.
“She wouldn’t know the difference, you know how dense humans are.” The scarred male says.
You wish you would have at least looked into a translation tool of some sort because you try telling yourself that they’re just having a normal conversation but you feel like you’re being shit - talked. You know that it’s a ‘you’ problem but the tone and energy that comes with their speech has been off.
“Hey, I’m Y/n.” You say to the male you have yet to meet. He gives you a bored look before stating, “Sanzu.” Mikey finally entered the dining room with his arm rubbing against his tired eyes. He heads to the seat on the other side of you and sits after pulling the chair back. He leans over the table with his head lying on his palm.
“Had a nice nap?” Kazutora questions.
“Not long enough.” He says with a soft voice.
“You came earlier than usual.” Rin says before turning to his brother. “You owe me.” To which Ran rolled his eyes.
The same chef as earlier, along with a few others came out with covered plates and set them in front of the hybrids. They also poured their preferred beverage into the wine glasses. Your eyebrows furrowed as to how you forgot to ask for your own drink or why they didn’t have a cup already out like everyone else.
Well, I am new so it’s probably nothing personal.
When they lifted the cover, you eye the chunks of raw meat along with the side dishes surrounding the plate. The smell was enticing though you’ve never been one to enjoy raw food in fear of the repercussions.
I guess they are technically big cats so it’s healthy for them.
You’ve never seen meat that looks quite like what’s on their plates. You watch as Sanzu rubs his meat into the red substance that puddles around it before lifting the chopsticks to his mouth.
“What is that?” You hope to not come off rude or ignorant though you were just so curious you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Some of them gave each other looks all the while snickering or rolling their eyes.
“Fresh human.” Mikey says casually before taking another bite. Your eyes widen, hand holding your own chopsticks pausing as you stare down at your plate.
“Don’t worry, your dinner is animal meat.” The golden eyed tiger reassures you. Unfortunately, you’ve seemed to have lost your appetite.
“So, how do you obtain human meat?” You ask.
“By cooking a human.” Rin snorts. You glare at his smart ass answer and look over to the others.
“Your grandmother has freezers full of cut human slabs by those who signed off on donating their body parts to the Hybrid - Food Society Association.” Ran explains before taking another bite of food.
“They’re cleaned thoroughly before they’re slaughtered considering most donations are only after they’re dead.” He continued, “lucky for us only the healthiest of humans are chosen to be a meal specially made for the exotic hybrids such as us.”
How have you never heard of this before? Then again they only make normal pet food for non - exotic hybrids. You’ve never even been around a regular hybrid let alone the type you have to live with now. You nod your head as you prevent the bile from coming up your throat. You know that humans are technically just chunks of meat with legs, still on the food chain for other species and even on their own at times. You still couldn’t help but feel disturbed. They could decide to eat you at any moment and you’d be done for.
You turn to the chef and give your thanks before standing up and nodding a dismissal to the rest of the men, heading to your room so you could take a moment to relieve yourself of the anxiety forming. When you reached your bedroom, you decided to take a shower, gathering a pair of pajamas before entering your bathroom and turning the faucet on. After your shower you completed your nightly routine and hopped into bed.
After a few hours of scrolling and not being able to sleep, you climbed out of bed and walked through the hall to the staircase. Once you reach the den, one of your eyebrows raise at the tiger who sat on the couch leaned over. As you walked around you noticed the tray on his lap as well as the opened wrap in his hands that he brought to his lips to lick the lining before rolling the leaf, closing around the green flower. His ears perked up as he turned slightly to look at you.
“Want some?” He says with a smile and tilted head, holding the joint up.
Sitting on the balcony connected to his room, you both pass the stick as you converse about whatever comes to mind, slight laughter along with semi - deep conversation that’s lingering between the surface and depth. A moment of silence included with the level of ganja consumed enhanced your need for sleep, you lying on the ground as your legs hang off the edge of the balcony. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel weightless under the moonlight. Your steady breathing caught Kazutora’s attention.
He turns back to look at you before finishing off the roach and ashing it out. He tossed it below, the burnt leaf disappearing into the forested area. He leaned back, connecting with the floor as he turned his head to the side to observe your sleeping face. His own expression is stoic besides the light pink hue that lingers on his face. After lying there for a moment, he sits up to lean over you and sniff near your neck, your distinct scent fuming his nostrils. One of his hands move to your shoulder as he grips the skin, sniffing a little harsher than before to receive every fume that comes from you.
A few weeks pass and you find yourself with a casual routine. Fortunately, you’ve bonded well with Kazutora though that’s not much of a surprise since he was the most welcoming. His extrovertedness did well with helping you out of your comfort zone. Today you went out to run errands. Eyeing the building to your left and noticing that it is a bakery, you decide to run in and buy a case of Mikey’s favorite treat. You knew he was running out so a quick pit stop couldn’t hurt.
When you arrived home you dropped the case on the kitchen counter before quickly taking your own stuff to your room, planning to place it in the right area once you finished setting your bags on the floor. When you made it downstairs, you stopped to see Mikey opening the case you had set on the counter. When he grabs the snack, he opens the package and sets the treat between his lips, fangs glistening before he takes a bite.
“Thanks.” He says before walking out. You shrug before sneaking one of your own and setting the rest in the pantry. You knew that he’d eat all of those within the next two to three days so you thought to snatch one to try before he eats them all.
A few days pass and he asks if you can style his hair so he wouldn’t have to. You didn’t think pulling half your hair up in a ponytail could be that much work but to each their own. You didn’t mind styling his hair, the soft strands entangling your fingers as you pulled it up to wrap the band around the section once you were finished brushing the mane. You thought his ears would make it harder for you but there was no trouble at all. He stared at the tv all the while you completed the ponytail.
From that day on he would automatically show up in your room and position himself on the ottoman at the foot of the bed. You never complained nor rejected him. It was quite the bonding experience even when you two didn’t talk at all. More weeks passed and he gradually showed more comfortability around you, making excuse after excuse just to touch you such as making you carry him, lying his head on your lap, or spooning you whenever he’d ask to sleep in your bed. You found the behavior adorable and the company appreciated.
A couple months passed and you were walking up the stairs to your bedroom after a smoke session with Kazutora. When you opened your door, the putrid smell smacked your face before you eye the red liquid from the freshly slaughtered human arm lying on your comforter. You covered your mouth before bile shot up your throat and caused you to vomit on the floor. Dry heaving and gagging, tears fall down your face at the burning liquid from your throat as well as the stench filling your nostrils.
“What a sight.” A voice says behind you though you’re too distracted to notice, running to your bathroom before slamming the door shut. Laughter filled the room.
After you got yourself together you were met with an ‘apology’ from Rin and Sanzu, though it only consisted of, “It was just a prank.” Ran offered for you to sleep in his room until the mattress and sheets were replaced, to which Mikey and Kazutora tried to argue against in order for you to stay with them instead.
A few months pass and you wake up in the middle of the night. You felt the urge to walk down the hall considering the loud noise that startled you awake. Once you did, you found one of the bedroom doors open. Walking in, you gasped when you see Sanzu on the ground completely out of it with his eyes barely open and head leaning against the wall. You immediately take action and stick your fingers into his throat forcing him to vomit whatever he consumed. Once he came back to consciousness you wrapped your arms around him and cried on his shoulder for his safety, his own eyes staring ahead into the space across from where you sat.
Unknown to you, after a week passed he made himself a routine of observing you while you slept. Sometimes he would even climb in the bed, accidentally waking you up though you weren’t concerned, embracing the jaguar in your arms as you fell back into slumber.
One day, you just couldn’t take your eyes off of Ran’s long hair. You asked if you could play with it, as it reminded you of the mannequin heads you received as a little girl. He didn’t mind. As a matter of fact he fell asleep numerous times on your lap, nuzzling comfortably against your thighs as your fingers traced his scalp. Sometimes, he’d even ask you to downright scratch his head, his body reacting slightly as the tingles go straight down his spine. It was cute.
A month passed and you were walking through the rest of the mansion you had yet to see. You almost passed a room until the leopard patterned ears caught your attention. You watched as Rin worked out in the gym, lifting large weights. You eye the matching tattoo that sits on the opposite side of his brother’s torso. Never really exercising consistently, you walk into the room and grab the smallest weights as a joke before standing next to him and lifting your own, giving him a humorous smile. He side glances at you before you turn away, continuing to lift as you miss the red hue forming on his face.
A year passed and you decidedl that it’s time for you to meet other humans who reside in Japan. Having been slacking on your social skills, you couldn’t help the nerves that struck when you went out to meet a group of people you’ve never met before you were hit up on social media. You made sure to dress appropriately considering you all would be bar hopping and running around the booming streets of a popular city. The night was spent with pure joy and good energy as you all roamed the area. The hours reach the am and you finally return home, a little tipsy as you stumble into the foyer.
“Where were you?” You almost jolt out of your skin when you try passing the den, turning to see Kazutora sitting on the sofa with a leg crossed.
“Oh, you scared me.” You giggle in relief. His expressionless gaze caused you to quiet down before you responded to his question. “I went out with some people I met.”
“Who?” He asks in a serious tone. You raise one of your eyebrows.
“What is this an interrogation?” He holds his hands up in surrender with a sheepish smile.
“It was just a question.” You sigh before shaking your head.
“I-I’m sorry about that, I shouldn’t have gotten so defensive.” You drop your purse on the floor before sitting next to him.
“It’s alright. Wanna smoke?” He questions before he feels your head leaning against his shoulder. Your quiet breathing indicated your slumber. He sits up and turns his body towards you, shifting you to lean back on the couch before diving into your neck, sniffing the scents from the various humans that had been in your presence. His expression turns into irritation, a drop in his stomach as he feels the need to scrub your body clean of the stench that surrounds you. Instead, he helped you to bed.
A few weeks pass and you go on a date. The meeting was nice and the guy really made your day with his gentlemen - like behavior. You stepped out of the car after he dropped you off. He walked you to your door before you gave him a kiss on the cheek and told him, “Bye.” When you entered the door, you were immediately grabbed by the arm while you were sniffed by Rin.
“Gross.” He hissed before dropping your arm and walking away. Leaving you confused as you stood in your spot. On another occasion you were in the middle of braiding Ran’s hair while he faced you with his legs over yours, both of you sitting on your bed.
“Wouldn’t you rather watch tv than me?” You chuckled. He shook his head with a smile.
“Nope.” He says before pushing you on your back and climbing on top of you, nuzzling his head between your shoulder and positioning himself comfortably enough to nap. You roll your eyes and shift your attention to the flat screen while caressing his back until you fall asleep on your own.
When you went to the bathroom after you both woke up and he left your room, your eyebrows furrowed at the marks left on your neck. Tracing them as you stared deeply into the mirror. You confronted him though he promised to not do it again, he didn’t listen. You begin to hide it with makeup when going out only for the foundation to show up missing each time, causing you to stop buying new products considering they’d disappear anyway.
“Master, my dorayaki is gone!” Mikey whines as he sits on top of your lap, legs circled around your waist as you sit on the sofa in the den. You pull him back by the arms while giving him a look.
“Mikey, I’ve already told you to stop calling me that.”
He continues to whine about his missing dorayaki, ignoring your statement as he calls you the preferred name over and over.
“I can’t get you more if you don’t get up.” To which he replied, “Then take me with you.”
“You’d still have to get down.” He paused above you, sniffing your neck before you felt a long wet muscle leave a trail of moisture.
“Mikey!” You gasp.
“All I can smell is Ran’s stupid scent on you.” He hissed before he continued to lick and mark up your neck with his own scent. You ignore the chills running up your back as you attempt to push him off though his grip is keeping you locked. His tail wraps around one of your arms while his hand grabs your other wrist, preventing you from pushing against him. You huff frustratingly.
You’ve been noticing the absence of a few of your clothing. The only thing you know is that someone has been stealing from your dirty clothes basket. It probably doesn’t worry you as much as it should but you couldn’t really do anything about it without the risk of accusing the wrong person and causing a problem. It wasn’t until one night you walked into Sanzu’s, seeing him naked and asleep as he held one of your favorite shirts. Your eyes widen at the pair of your panties tangled around his limp cock.
You immediately leave the room, shutting the door behind you and walking back to your bedroom. You brush the memory off as something to do with their instincts and comfortability or something, you don’t really know how to react to that. You didn’t bring it up nor did you say anything about it to anyone else. You’ve caught a few of them either having intercourse or masturbating but never once with your clothes. Not until then or until you ended up finding Kazutora sniffing your panties with drowsy eyes all the while Mikey pounding his ass above him, his head leaning on the tiger’s back while he gripped his waist. Now that was a sight you hadn’t expected to see at all.
You just thought that they all had a harmless crush on you and didn’t know what to do with it besides their sexual escapades so you didn’t say a word. You didn’t find a problem with their behavior until you had a visitor. You had no idea why they acted so rudely to your new friend, her being a girl who you were not attracted to in the slightest way sexually or romantically. It was clear the platonic friendship you had going on but for them to just outright go out of their way to aggressively make her uncomfortable is insane to you. You refrained from inviting anyone else over. It seemed to have just gone downhill from there.
One night you woke up and felt cold air hitting your whole body which made no sense considering you fell asleep warm in your pajamas. What you hadn’t expected was the moisture hitting one of your nipples nor the muscle sliding against your clit. Two pairs of purple eyes glower at you all the while continuing their assault. Claws slightly penetrate your thighs as well as the breast that’s being held against a mouth. Your hips buck before you sit up and push the older brother back, as well as the head of the younger.
“Rin! Ran! What in the fuck?!” You exclaim.
You had them all sit down in the den, the males holding expressions of boredom or little care for what you were going on about. You set boundaries about everything that had made you uncomfortable. The only reason you were explaining anything was because they are all hybrids and have different sets of rules and social constructs than regular humans. Although disturbed you decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, hoping things would get better.
You made an unfortunate decision, attempting to invite another friend over, this time a male. Considering there had been some time that passed and the hybrids had listened to your concerns, you thought that you could finally have some company. It was very late by the time you both realized the time, you being nice and offering him to stay in one of the guest bedrooms and sleep over. When you hadn’t heard from him or seen him walk out of the room, you decided to check in. Only for you to let out a scream of terror at what was left of the mauled body lying on the bed. You couldn’t stop trembling as you hyperventilated, Kazutora rubbing your sides as he held you against his chest while the maids cleaned the mess.
A few days pass as you stay locked in your room. You get up from the bed and head to your grandmother’s old bedroom on the other side of the mansion. You searched for anything that could notify you of the violence that occured. Some piece of information on how to stay safe or figure out how to lessen their weird behavior. The only thing you found was your grandmother’s journal. You sat in your bedroom and read the entire passage. Your hands tremble as realization smacks you in the face. When you couldn’t find anyone upstairs, you rushed down to the game room after passing the empty den.
All of them were either sitting on gaming chairs or the couches, focusing on what was displaying on the screen. You walked to the tv, unplugging it and throwing the journal on the ground. You contemplated just making your exit quietly but you were so angry you acted out of emotion.
“What the fuck did you do to my grandma?! Who are you and what was your plan?”
They all stare at you with absent expressions. The only thing that could be heard was your heavy breathing.
“What are you talking about?” Kazutora questions. You shake your head.
“No don’t fucking try to manipulate me you know exactly what I’m talking about!” You say before grabbing one of the unused controllers near the tv and chucking it at him, only for him to dodge it.
“And what do you think you’re gonna do about it, huh? She’s dead and you’re lucky we spared you.” Rin says with irritation. Your eyes widen.
“Lucky you spared me?! Your plan was to kill me after poisoning her to death so you can steal everything from us!” You exclaim. “You lied to her and she was too old to notice that she even wrote it herself! You knew she didn’t have her right mind so you manipulated her into thinking you loved her!” The sound of another controller breaking catches your attention.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. We loved her like our mother.” Sanzu growls.
“Then why did you gradually kill her to steal from her! You don’t do that to people you love!”
“It wasn’t part of the plan to bond with her. She was just some old rich lady before we got to know her.” Ran says with a stoic expression. You scoff.
“Oh please! You’re fucking terrible!” You exclaim before walking to the exit. Before you could leave the room you were snatched by your arm.
“Where are you going?” Mikey questions while gripping your arm with his claws slightly piercing your skin, dark eyes glaring into your own orbs.
“Away from you freaks.” You hissed attempting to pull your arm away from him only to get thrown on the ground. You land with a thud along with a grunt when the back of your head meets the carpet.
Before you can get back up, you’re forced on your back, Mikey climbing on top of you and pinning you to the ground.
“LET ME GO!” You roar, fear mixing with the anger as the grip on your wrists tighten. His tail wraps around your neck in a tight hold, blocking your airway while he stares down at you with a cold look. You stare wide eyed as you struggle in his hold.
“Calm down, Y/n.” Kazutora says as they all gather around, him crouching down to eye you from above.
“Knock her out already.” Rin states before Sanzu pressed harshly against your pressure point, causing you to go limp immediately.
“It’s okay.” A voice cooes in your ear from behind. Heat covers your body as you groan while slowly coming to reality. The only light is the moonlight reflecting into the room, causing a hollow glow. You feel your own body rocking as the feeling of being stretched from below causes you to gasp. Hands grip your shoulders as your stomach is pressed against the bed. You hear panting behind you as kisses are placed on your neck and shoulder.
“I… hah, love you so much. Fuck!” Kazutora breathes out as he rocks his lower body against yours, sliding his thick erection out of your body before shoving it back inside deeply, purposefully aiming himself to hit the spot he knows will drive you crazy. You look up wide eyed at purple eyes that stare down at you from above, cock in hand right in front of your eyesight as he kneels on the bed.
“M’ so close. G-gonna fill this pussy up with my fucking cum.” His hair drapes over your back as his thrusts harden. He pulls his hips back before pressing them against your ass, accelerating his steady pace as he aims his head perfectly against your g - spot. You whimper as you bite your lip, tears streaming down your face as you turn your head the other way to not face the older Haitani. Only to be met with icy blue orbs glowering down at you with a twisted look of lust on his expression, such an intense gaze that forces you to shut your eyes tightly, waiting for the time to pass and this to be over.
Kazutora’s thrusts become harder as you feel a rise of your own stomach, the stimulation getting the best of your body before you release, the male over you holding his hips against your ass before he shoots ropes of cum inside of you. Breathing heavily, you feel his weight lift off of you before forcing you to turn over on your back. You cry out when Mikey crawls in between your legs, holding your legs up as he positions himself to push inside.
“I hate you! I-I hate all of you!” You hysterically cry, using your fists to bang against Mikey’s chest before Rin appears in your vision, grabbing your chin as he leans over, red hue covering his cheeks.
“Shut up.” He says before forcing you into a passionate kiss.
Once they were all done taking their turns with you, you were carried to the bathroom to get cleaned up by Ran. Your limp body is exhausted from being used by the stronger species, worn out and broken from the inside out. You knew that the next day would be spent planning your escape.
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michaeljoncarter · 11 months
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i always thought chris and damian's potential friendship could be a lot more interesting than jon and damian. the fact that the origin of chris did not prevent clark from considering him his son could create amusing dynamic with damian's early life views "blood matters, adoption is not" instead, we've been receiving a narrative "supersons are the only real children of superman and batman" from dc for years 😒
i've been wanting to ramble for an obnoxiously long time about about all the issues i have with jon, especially as he relates to chris, his relationship with damian & just… this whole recent shift toward focusing more and more on biological relationships for a while now, so i'm gonna take this ask as an opportunity to just get it out of my system
this is about to be an absolute BEHEMOTH of a post. like seriously, apologies in advance for how absurdly long it's about to be lol
this was/is my biggest issue with both Supersons & jon as a concept even before i really got into superman comics, and jesus christ. it is SO much worse when you go back and see everything that was scrapped to try and make way for jon, and nowhere is that more true than with chris. the absolutely insane amounts of potential just deleted for seemingly no other reason than wanting to give clark a biological son instead of an adopted one WILL make you want to strangle someone
seriously, i know most people are probably at least vaguely aware chris existed, but i don't feel like enough people know enough about him to realize just how fucking criminal him being replaced with jon really was. i certainly didn't, anyway. all i really knew was that lois & clark already had an adopted son pre-flashpoint, which was already enough to make the optics of deleting him in favor of the biokid not great, but it's sooooo much more annoying than that
not to be dramatic, but having a character of this caliber sitting right the fuck there (with a final appearance pre-flashpoint that was literally just setup to make him as easy as possible for future writers to bring back) but deciding to delete him in favor of a character as painfully generic as jon kent should count as some sort of crime against humanity
(and this is all without even getting into arguably the worst part about him being erased (and then brought back but evil & with a different name), which is that chris was co-created by richard donner & named christopher as a tribute to christopher reeve. dc what the fuck is wrong with you)
but it's ESPECIALLY frustrating since one of jon's main claims to fame is being the super to damian's bat. you could not have created a more perfect counterpart to damian wayne than christopher kent if you'd tried
this character was made for damian, and i really might mean that literally. after spiraling down this rabbit hole, i'm pretty convinced damian & chris were originally created as a set. like... did you know they were introduced at the same time? because, again, i know i certainly didn't
but we'll circle back around to that in a minute because all the weird connections & suspiciously convenient timing aside, intentional or not, they were an absolute goldmine of potential, plotwise and thematically
either dc just made characters that perfectly mirrored each other by complete accident & missed a hell of an opportunity by failing to notice it OR it was intentional and they just decided to throw it all out in favor of replacing chris with creativity void that is jon because... a biological son seemed more appealing? and/or easily marketable/adaptable? i'm honestly not sure which is worse lol
these two were perfect foils. seriously, there are so many little details about chris's character that are just damian-but-backwards. they mirror each other so closely that even their literal births reflect, with damian being a human grown in an artificial womb like a kryptonian and chris being a kryptonian born naturally like a human, and they so easily could've had such an incredibly unique & complex relationship
but, yeah, probably the most important contrast between them was the (initial) fixation on genetics & bloodlines with damian vs chris fully rejecting his biological parents & considering himself 100% a kent. this has been a problem with damian's character for a while now, but jon & Supersons really took it to the next level, and i hate it
in the interest of not letting this spiral into a 20k+ hatepost, i'm gonna try to not get too in the weeds about the specifics, here, but in this post-Supersons world we live in, i've seen quite a few people (including, most recently, tom king) talking like this shift away from focusing on adopted family in favor of blood started with damian's introduction. and... i really couldn't disagree more. if anything, damian was kind of the anti-jon kent
i famously hate a LOT about morrison's batman era, but their handling of damian's integration into the batfam is the one area where i feel like they (and the other writers of this era) absolutely stomped just about every other writer that's come after. it really seems like they were well aware of just how bad a biological kid could end up being for a story where adopted/chosen/non-traditional family is such a core component, and they were very careful about how they went about it
say what you will about morrison era batman (and believe me, i know there is plenty to say), but there was way less of this weird friction between damian's character & the chosen family aspect of the batfam
i'm not about to sit here and pretend i prefer morrison's damian as an individual character over tomasi/gleason's. damian's character arc in Batman & Robin (2011)/Robin: Son of Batman blows what little, incredibly subtle character development he had pre-flashpoint out of the water--not exactly surprising, seeing as tomasi/gleason tend to be more character-focused & morrison really just loves their huge, complex plots, with character work tending to take more of a back seat
he's a much more solid, fully formed, just overall better character now, but specifically in terms of handling him in relation to the capital-T Themes of the batfam, morrison was very focused on pushing back against the idea that being the "blood son" made him more legitimate than the other batkids, which is something that writers since have largely not really cared about and/or seemed to actively disagree with
i'm gonna come back to this weird shift toward bruce-centrism with his character in a minute, but it's just pretty wild to me that "SON OF BATMAN" has basically become the zero-negative-connotations tagline for his character & how he introduces himself 99% of the time when that was originally something that was framed like this
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(Batman #657)
Supersons definitely didn't cause this issue, but it definitely didn't help
damian & jon are both characters whose concepts are pretty heavily based around the same ideas of like... bloodlines & inheritance & all that, but jon's entire character is based around just accepting the inherent value & importance of who your (specifically biological) parents are at face value with ZERO interest in taking any sort of critical look at how important genetics are to just about every aspect of him
a character like damian shouldn't even be allowed in the same zip code as a character like jon, let alone given a teamup book dedicated to making the fact that they're the blood sons of batman & superman the basis of their entire relationship, and equating damian's place in the batfam to jon's place in the "superfam" (which didn't/doesn't even really exist anymore because literally everyone else was deleted in favor of jon), and hurtling right past just failing to push back against the dicey subtext right into just kinda… endorsing it
not to be calling out this random person, but i feel like this comment under one of the issues from the Last Son arc on a website i've obviously never used kinda sums up the problem with the unintentional messaging of Supersons, and it makes me want to actually die every time i see it
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there's nothing inherently wrong with stories that center around biological family, obviously, and there's nothing inherently wrong with the concept of a character popping out a kid of their own that grows up to be like them, but the problem is these stories aren't happening in a void
when you have stories that have historically been as focused on these capital-T Themes of found family & adoption as these, you need to be careful with how you handle something like the addition of a biological child. shifting more and more away from focusing on families of choice to fixate more and more on blood & biological relation ends up saying something whether you intend it to or not
the reason this drives me particularly insane specifically re: chris is that his concept could've made up for the exact thematic issues with damian that sticking him next to a character with a concept like jon's has brought to the forefront & shined a giant, uncritical spotlight on
intentional or not, chris was/is exactly the sort of counterbalance a character like damian needs because... i don't know how else to phrase it other than damian is a character that needs to be challenged. he needs someone in the story that he can thematically butt heads with so he doesn't end up just butting heads with The Theme itself
originally, tim was kinda the like... adoption advocate, for lack of a better term, put up against him, but imo this could a bit problematique. making him conflict with someone from the same family unit just kinda makes it come off as weird favoritism
like... bruce deciding damian should stay with dick after he came back from the "dead" and going to team up with tim was very thematically appropriate, so good job there, team, but the way bruce was just like "wow, thanks for raising my kid while i was gone, dick… and keep up the good work! because i'm moving to japan! bye!" and never looked back lol??
there needs to be something there to balance him out & serve as a sort of counterargument to the whole "blood son = real son" idea, but imo it'd work a lot better if it were someone outside the batfam so we wouldn't have to sacrifice the relationships there & make the dynamics all weird in service of Theme
chris could've done all that and then some because it's not just that he considers his adoptive parents his real parents. it's also that the biological parents he rejected were both villains
chris had nothing but "bad" blood. his mother and father were both genocidal maniacs whose goal in life was to enslave and/or wipe out the human race, and he was born & raised in a kryptonian superprison like some sort of alien bane
by all accounts, he probably should've turned out to be an absolute terror, but he DIDN'T because the idea that people don't have to be defined by their genes or the circumstances of their birth is like... the entire point (of post-crisis superman comics, especially. which is one of the biggest reasons why jon is so goddamn annoying, but that's its own 50k+ word post)
and this is the other big thing i find so annoying about the change in narrative around damian's character post-flashpoint. his decision to leave his old life behind & become a hero tends to be framed more like… choosing one biological parent over the other. like everything about him was just as genetically pre-determined as everyone else in this universe, but lucky for him, not all of his genes were evil, so he had a fighting chance!
and this is true not just of him but like... 99% of other "good" characters who have villain bioparents. they almost always have one bioparent who's a villain and the other is good or at least more neutral--damian, kon, (preboot) joey, rose, lian, spoiler, obsidian, jade, jackson hyde, emiko queen, etc, etc, etc
don't get me wrong, i'm not saying i dislike the whole one "good" parent, one "evil" parent trope as a concept. i'm a huge sucker for it when it's done right. that's basically just a list of my faves, and with most of them, this is a nonissue. i'm just saying there are almost no good characters who come from purely "bad" blood
we're getting more and more characters whose entire personality is based around & whose goodness is attributed almost entirely to who their biological parents are, but there's a serious lack of anyone the complete opposite side of the spectrum. we need more characters who reject their families altogether and exist completely in spite of where they came from & who they were born to sort of balance the thematic scales
there might be others that're just slipping my mind, but in current comics, cassandra cain is the only prominent character i can think of who is a "good" person despite coming from from nothing but "bad" blood
(i mean, i guess you could argue all the brainiac descendants still technically exist in current continuity, but like... do they? do they, really?) (EDIT: no, they do not! not in a way that makes them applicable here, anyway. i forgot vril dox ii was brought back in rebirth & retconned to be exactly like his father (thank you, anon who pointed this out). so this is actually just another example of the next point....... l o l)
instead of more characters like this, we've been getting the opposite. kids of villains who were fundamentally good and pointedly nothing like their parents have been rewritten to just be exactly like their shitty parents, actually, because evil is just as genetic as heroism, i guess
this is something that's been annoying me for a while, but i just kinda assumed my super cynical takeaway was just my own personal biases making me read way more into it than was actually there. i'm sure that's definitely a big contributing factor, and this wasn't even something i was really gonna get into, but in the time it took my slow ass to actually get around to answering this, i'll be damned if if tom king didn't go and announce his new, Supersons-inspired character, and just flat out say that the exact same, fucked up message i've felt like i was getting from dc for a while now is exactly what her character is meant to be about
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now, i can't judge a character that hasn't even been introduced too much, and to be honest, a character like this seems like much less of an issue (in this respect, anyway) in wonder woman comics, which have tended to have more of a focus more on biological family (with diana and hippolyta and even kinda some versions of donna (and also… y'know... lyta)) than batman & superman comics
this wouldn't be nearly as much of an issue if it were just happening on its own, but it's that this is yet ANOTHER character on the way whose concept begins and ends at "biological child of hero," where it's just kinda meant to be understood that means they'll be a hero, too. just like the shift in how damian's framed, it just seems reflective of this larger trend where the the underlying theme of dc as a whole is increasingly starting to feel like "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
(eta from the future to account for king's bullshit ww run: somehow, it's even worse than we could've imagined lmfao. but regardless, my point here was more about this tk quote & how it perfectly encapsulates this whole issue, less about the actual character herself, so i feel like it still stands. she's still annoying as all hell, but just for different (and arguably worse?) reasons than we were originally led to believe... lol)
and again, there's nothing inherently wrong with a character popping out a kid that takes after them. the issue with it as an overarching Theme is that while it makes for a cute little story about makin' ma an' pa proud in some places, it makes for some real bleak, depressing shit in others, and unfortunately, chris is a perfect example of that
when he was "brought back" in rebirth, intentional or not, he was changed to better fit the new theme of post-jon superman comics and turned into just... a mirror version of jon, basically. instead of being a character who pointedly was not defined by his shitty parents & horrible upbringing, he is now, of course, COMPLETELY defined by who his biological parents are. he's just lor-zod, son of general zod & commander ursa, who was just kinda doomed from the start
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(Action Comics #997)
(booster being complicit in this arc is one of the worst things that's ever happened to me btw. somebody please revoke jurgens's custody i can't do this anymore)
(and i seriously doubt anyone cares enough to bring this up, but just for posterity, i feel the need to acknowledge that, yes, i'm aware this was an alt future version, but he showed up later in other comics acting pretty much exactly the same as a kid, so... lol)
anyway. i'm not trying to accuse any dc writers of being weird, cartoonesque supervillains sitting around twirling their evil mustaches and like... deliberately including themes of biological determinism or whatever the fuck. i'm sure it's all unintentional, but like i said, when you have a story that's based around one message and you rewrite it in a way that conveys essentially the opposite message, it ends up saying something regardless of intent
this thing where we take characters whose concepts are all about them being fundamentally, pointedly good despite where & who they came from and turn them into supervillains just as bad (or worse) than their shitty parents has always been a problem--the last couple decades of constant character assassination for joey wilson is probably the most obvious example--but it's gotten noticeably worse over the past few years
all this to say i think not just damian but dc as a whole would've really benefited from a character like chris. in superman comics specifically, ignoring everything that's happened post-reboot, he would've been/was a great way to offset some of the issues caused by tt03's lex clone retcon making kon biologically related to clark & turning him into yet another "only half evil" character. execution notwithstanding, i definitely think the new version of kon's origin is more interesting than the original, but it would've been nice if we'd gotten a character to fill the niche westfield clone kon left empty
chris was so fundamentally incompatible with the whole "apple doesn't fall far from the tree" idea, he wouldn't even have really had to do anything. he would've been doing some pretty heavy lifting, thematically speaking, just by existing. fixating on blood & genes to the extent that they have probably would've been a bit more difficult with a character like him standing in the same panel
obviously, just swapping out one character for the other wouldn't fix everything. the issues with jon & all this other mess are just symptomatic of the much larger issues at dc, but it's kinda hard not to wonder when things so easily could've been so different, which is how i'm gonna segue into the WAY less serious part of this post because i'm really not convinced chris being such a perfect fit & counterbalance was just an accident
this is fully some tinfoil hat level nonsense. take everything i'm about to say with a grain of salt, and just know i'm fully aware of how pepe silvia-esque i'm about to sound
so... if we're going by cover dates, Last Son (the arc that introduced chris) started in december 2006, the same month that Batman & Son (the arc that introduced damian) wrapped up. that they were introduced consecutively would already be kinda weird, but the thing that makes it really weird is just how similar the two storylines are
to massively oversimplify, both arcs were about the secret biological son of one of clark/bruce's most dangerous/obsessive villains (and i'm not a fan of morrison's talia, but that is how she was being portrayed at the time) that no one knew existed until one day they were suddenly dropped in clark/bruce's lap as a part of some sort of world domination plot by their villain parent(s), and both end with damian/chris disappearing with said villain parent while trying to help stop their evil plan
and this was right at the beginning of the era of the batman & superman titles running pretty closely parallel. not too long after Last Son ended, the whole World Without/Against Superman during New Krypton also kicked off the same month as Battle for the Cowl
right alongside dick's batman era, superman comics had mon-el (who i always feel obligated to note is nothing like the cw version. please god) serving as replacement superman after clark was forced to leave the planet to deal with the new krypton thing & struggling to adjust and uphold the symbol for clark
there was no real interaction between them or acknowledgement of the similarities there, either, but later on, there was a little crossover comic about the similar states of the batfam & superfam in this era
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(World's Finest (2009))
all this to say seemingly intentionally parallel storylines in the batman & superman titles that went largely unacknowledged weren't at all unheard of around the time chris & damian were introduced. it really doesn't feel like too much of a stretch to me to think that damian & chris could've been part of that trend
and also the artist for Last Son, who designed chris, and the artist for Batman & Son, who designed damian, are brothers. i KNOW that doesn't automatically make everything they do connected!! but you can't just find out something like this while digging for connections for your conspiracy theory post and then NOT mention it. this is the kinda shit red string & pushpin people dream about at night
anyway.
just to be clear, i'm not saying think chris was created specifically for a future teamup with damian. he was pretty clearly meant to be his own, standalone character, but it just kinda seems to me like they were conceptualized with each other in mind
but conspiracy theorizing aside, intentional or not, there was a truly maddening amount of potential here
their basic character concepts were so similar. again, to massively over simplify, they were both the sons of villains raised in secret in some sort of Evil Organization, damian with the league & chris with zod's loyalists, both the son or "heir" of the leader of said organization, and both ended up rejecting the way they were raised in favor of joining their respective heroic fathers instead
characterization-wise, though, they were exact opposites. their overall circumstances were similar on the surface, but their actual experiences could not have been less alike. neither childhood was ideal, obviously, and growing up in the league definitely had its downsides, but overall, damian was treated like a prince & kinda spoiled rotten, where chris was treated like dirt & horrifically neglected/abused, and they came out of their respective origins with personalities & outlooks that were just as opposite
i could ramble on about every single little contrasting detail in their characters for days, but jesus christ look at how ridiculously long this post is already
there's just so much that could've been with them!! so many things about their respective characters that could've played off of each other in such interesting ways. you already had a ton to work with just in chris's concept on its own, but combined with some of his later arcs?? the whole nightwing thing could've so easily been reworked into something amazing
chris was so unique and well thought out, he would've been an absolutely perfect fit & done a lot for damian and superman comics and just dc as a whole. he had more than enough staying power, and everything about his erasure is so frustrating. if you haven't read much/any preboot superman, i really can't stress enough just how easy it would've been for them to bring him back. i'm not exaggerating when i say his very last appearance from right before flashpoint hit was literally just setup to make him as easy as possible to bring back after the reboot
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(Superman: War of the Supermen #4)
he was re-babified and ready to go. the less savory aspects of his later storyline were already being kinda soft retconned away via phantom zone memory weirdness, so they wouldn't have even had to address that--not that that would've been a valid excuse for not using him, anyway, seeing as nobody's actually given a shit about continuity in years, especially where superman comics are concerned
it's just so disappointing that a character as stacked with potential as chris has been essentially erased in the main universe and relegated to extremely occasional elseworlds appearances in favor of jon, whose incredibly generic, one-note concept really would've been a much better fit for a cute but depthless one-off character from a random alternate universe
he was cute enough as a kid, sure, but he was always much more of an accessory to the other characters around him than a unique, standalone character himself. the past few years have just been book after book after book of writers trying and failing to mine a shred of potential from his shallow concept and find a way to make him individual or unique or necessary in any way (and stomping all over the stories he's meant to be adding to in the process), which is annoying enough on its own, but that it really seems to have happened for no other reason than dc preferring the idea of biological kids makes it so much worse
it sucks, man, but... well, i guess at the very least, we'll always have Multiversity: The Just with its weird, spoiled brat au of damian & chris's supersons on earth-nepotism to give us a taste of what could've been 💔
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Buck & Eddie: 5 unresolved items from season 6
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There were several things in season 6 that were left unresolved including some that happened between Buck and Eddie.  These are items they never discussed and IMO, it’s possible they might resurface in season 7 and present the small amount of angst that’s been mentioned by OS and RG during their recent interviews.
Full Disclosure:  When season 6 ended, I like many other viewers, absolutely LOATHED the way Buck’s and Eddie’s endings were handled since they were both shoehorned into relationships with one-dimensional love interests the same way they had been at the end of season 4.  The constant delays of Buddie going CANON was just 🙄 and at the time, I took a step back because it felt like all the metaphors, callbacks, foreshadowing and hindsight that happened during the first 13 episodes were replaced with a forced narrative.  Characters were retconned too so they could fit into some “metaphorical FOX procedural drama box” and it frustrated me.  After 6x18 aired, I took a couple of weeks to formulate my overall thoughts on the season and I completed 15 Constructive Criticisms posts to move past my frustrations. Additionally, I started writing a massive multi-chapter fanfic to unravel the mess that was season 6 and I must admit, doing so helped because I was able to put some of the messy pieces to that unfinished puzzle of a season together.
Now... back to the regularly scheduled programming…
This post highlights the 5 things IMO that are still in play that didn’t get resolved last season and I’ve included details about them below.  Since season 7 is shortened and only has 10 episodes, it’s possible none of the things listed will be revisited but it’s also possible they will. 
Before I get started, here’s a quick reminder, Buck and Eddie didn’t discuss any of the things listed in CANON.
1. The Donation
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Other than 6x7 when Eddie heard about Buck’s sperm donation for the first time at the firehouse, in 6x9 when they were on the four-way call when he responded to Chimney and said, “I don’t know… it kind of feels weird to congratulate him” and in 6x10 when he replied to Buck and said, “Sounds like your family had your back on the whole donation thing. That’s definitely progress” (notice he NEVER said he had Buck’s back on it and also his facial expressions in 6x9 after Buck’s announcement showed he wasn’t too thrilled about it) Buck and Eddie never discussed it.  Therefore, it is possible there could be some angst coming from it when the Buckley family’s other “deep dark family secret” (related post linked here) is revealed during or after Madney’s wedding.
Furthermore, Maddie’s NEVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT BUCK’S SPERM DONATION in CANON and every time it was mentioned in 6x10, it happened right after she left the room to check on Jee-Yun.  It’s obvious she knows about it since Chimney spoke up and said something to rebut Sang’s comment regarding a man raising another man’s child.  Another point to make about the whole “Meet the Parents” saga in 6x10 is the audience never saw Maddie converse with Sang and based on BTS information for season 7, it appears Sang, Albert nor Albert’s mom will be in attendance at the wedding. 👀
[FTR, I still don’t believe Connor and Kameron’s baby is biologically Buck's and I will stand on this hill, even if I have to stand alone, until there’s a blood test proving he is related to the baby (post linked here).]
2. The Onesie
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At the end of 6x9, Buck was asleep and he left the LAFD onesie he purchased sitting on top of his nightstand and it was right after the “Santa Ana Winds” ended.  However, there are two important things that should be remembered.
First, it has an LAFD logo on it which means it’s important to Buck because as he told Maddie in 2x18, "Being a firefighter is MY LIFE!  It’s the only thing I’ve ever done that was important and that mattered, ok?"
Why is this important? 
It’s important because BUCK IDENTIFIES HIMSELF AS A FIREFIGHTER and after all these years he still hasn’t figured out firefighting is what he does. Eddie knows Buck’s more than a firefighter especially since he knows and loves him to his CORE!  Also, if Buck believed the biological relation wasn't important, then he could have just bought a regular onesie from Target or Wal-Mart, right?  Yes!
Second, in 6x17, Kameron stayed with Buck for several days which means if he wanted to, he could have given it to her as a gift but he didn’t.  Therefore, it’s possible it might come back into play after 7x5 when Connor and Kameron are supposed to show up again (OS mentioned Buck being a sperm donor for his friends won’t resurface until after the first five episodes).  Additionally, after 6A, the narrative could have changed since the onesie wasn’t seen again and that could be due to all the audience backlash that happened after it was over.
Viewers didn’t like the jokes about Buck’s "swimmers" or the lack of his "alone time" and all the other ways the storyline was fumbled. By the start of 6B, the show tried to make the audience believe Buck understood he was the "donor not the dad" 👀. 
If the actual onesie doesn’t make a reappearance, then I believe the ramifications associated with the way Buck identifies himself will and it could be a point of contention between him and Eddie since Eddie was the one who told him in 4x14, “You act like you’re expendable... but you’re wrong”.
3. Buck’s Death
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At the end of 6x18, it appeared as if Buck still hadn’t dealt with the fact that he DIED and it’s possible nobody else has either, especially Eddie, Maddie, Bobby and their found family. Reminder, Maddie and Bobby both said, “Buck, you died!” and when they said it, Buck became frustrated.
However, when Eddie said, “You died Buck!”, he stopped and listened but the way Eddie said it was different for A LOT OF REASONS (post linked here).  After Eddie asked if he was allowed to ask how he was, Buck replied, “Honestly Eddie… I don’t know” but they have yet to have a full CANON conversation about the effects of it the same way they haven’t discussed any of their other shared traumas.
Additionally, during that conversation, they briefly discussed the shooting but they didn't fully talk about it other than Buck asking Eddie what he remembered. It’s another important and shared traumatic event that’s happened between them but like the well, the hostage situation and Eddie's breakdown, they still have yet to discuss it. Buck seemed to be a little upset by the fact that Eddie “said” he didn’t remember anything other than the searing pain he felt in his shoulder (I believe he remembers more than he said he does).
Buck's response was, “Is that it?” as if to say, “You don’t remember me crawling underneath a firetruck, pulling you out, picking you up and putting you inside of the truck? You don't remember me holding a gauze to your wound and asking you to stay with me? You don't remember asking me if I was hurt? Because I WAS!”  Also, it was kind of like Buck’s heart broke because Eddie “said” he doesn’t "really" remember it while Buck can’t forget the way his heart fell out of his chest that day when he saw the love of his life bleeding out in the middle of the street.
Also, Eddie’s still waiting for Buck to talk about the fact that he died. Reminder, Eddie's heart fell out of his chest too and he yelled at the hospital staff and told them to "Do More!" Even though they briefly discussed it while they were in the cemetery in 6x15, BUCK STILL HASN’T DEALT WITH IT YET!  If he would have gone to therapy instead of whatever he was doing with the DeAtH dOuLa, then maybe he would have dealt with it by now.
4. Buck’s Couch
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Full Disclosure:  Like so many viewers, I was pissed at the end of the season when Buck asked N to help him pick out a new couch because it didn’t make any sense and the truth is IT STILL DOESN’T but hindsight is 20/20 and I do believe the couch was still there for a reason.  IMO, it has everything to do with what could happen between Buck and Eddie in season 7.
Please note, these are my observations and interpretations about what I believe the destruction of Buck’s couch represented.
After Margaret bought Buck a new couch at the end of 6x11, beginning in 6x12, the show spent a lot of time showing how uncomfortable it was for Buck whenever he tried to rest on it.  Also, they AVOIDED showing it in a lot of other scenes even though Buck’s previous couch (the black leather one), when he still had it, could always be seen in the frame (post linked here).  However, the orange couch wasn’t fully seen until 6x18 before Kameron gave birth on it.
IMO, her giving birth on the couch Buck's mother purchased represented a lot of things including Buck’s idea of the life he always believed he was supposed to have.  Reminder, he gave his sperm (I don’t think the baby is his but let’s roll with this idea for a moment) to Connor (a former roommate) so him and his wife could have a baby even though Connor and Buck hadn’t seen each other in years.
He met him while they were in Peru and the only reason Buck ended up in L.A. was because Connor suggested he move with him and his friends because they were “kind of like a family”.  Also, he said Buck has a good heart and that was the reason why he wanted him to be their donor but reminder, the reasons why he said he chose him aren’t hereditary.
It appears the way Connor presented himself in 6x4, with a wife and in search of that "missing" piece (a baby) is exactly what Buck’s always wanted and that’s what his couch represented.  Let's be real, Connor manipulated Buck and they aren’t friends because if they were, wouldn’t he have invited Buck to the wedding or kept in contact with him over those three years? It kind of seemed like he wanted to rub his nose in the fact that he finally settled down while Buck was still living the bachelor life (not really because he already has his own family with Eddie and Chris, he just hasn't realized it yet).
The issue with Buck’s couches was he’s wanted his own family for years but the way his life has been presented, it appears he believes no one wants to build a life or a family with him and that's why he gave away a piece of himself. In doing so, he was trying to fix the issues he may have seen in Connor's and Kameron's marriage since it was barely hanging on by a thread.  Reminder, Connor let his pregnant wife leave and he didn’t try to reconcile with her.  Also, Buck never said why he didn’t want to turn them down when he was talking to Hen even though he should have.
I believe the destruction of Buck’s couch with the birth of the baby on it was about more than the couch itself.  It was destroyed and unsalvageable because THE DREAM OR IDEA Buck’s always believed he was supposed to have got destroyed when he gave his sperm away.  Also, the couch was his MOTHER’S idea of the life she wants him to have instead of the life he wants to have for himself, hence the reason why he told her he would get a couch when he was ready but she ignored him and bought him one anyway.
His "destroyed couch" illustrated the image Buck’s had in his mind of the life and the family he thought he was supposed to want for years, (i.e., a wife and a child) is no longer applicable because his family will include a husband, EDDIE and their son, CHRIS.
Reminder, there was a lot of talk about the types of family in 6B and they all related to Buck's idea of a family.  In 6x10, Buck told Bobby and Eddie, “It kind of felt like we were an actual family” but then Eddie replied, “You are an actual family”.  Also, in 6x13 when they went to play poker, Eddie responded to Buck while they were walking through the kitchen and said, “It’s a different kind of family” and later in the same episode, Chimney said to Maddie, Athena and Bobby, “Every family is different” but they were talking about Buck because Maddie said she would be furious with Buck if he did what Rhonda Fitzsimmons did when she used her nephew to gain access to Maddie's and Chimney's home.
5. Eddie’s Couch
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Eddie’s blue couch has always been Buck’s couch too and if it wasn’t going to be Buck's anymore, then something would have happened to it or Eddie would have bought a new one like he did at the end of season 2.  But Eddie didn’t and only Buck’s couch got DESTROYED at the end of season 6👀.
Reminder, in 6x9 Eddie was shown sleeping on it, in 6x12 Buck was shown sleeping on it and Chris was shown sleeping on it in 6x15.
Eddie didn’t get the blue couch until season 3 and the couch he had in season 2 was gray (post linked here).  It’s evident Buck still hasn’t figured out Eddie’s couch is also his even though he does know he’s not a guest there.
Therefore, Eddie’s couch and everything it represents for Buck, i.e., a romantic relationship, family and fatherhood will be in play until Buck realizes it or until Eddie explains it to him.
Will the small amount of angst Buck and Eddie experience in season 7 revolve around these 5 unresolved items or others? Only the showrunner, writers and producers know the answer to that question.
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caligvlasaqvarivm · 2 months
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Just read your eridan essay. I left a lot of words in the tags (sorry about that btw. I'm @kitkat-not-karkat, those were my tags) and I just. Holy fucking shit man.
THANK YOU FOR PUTTING IT INTO WORDS. Like. Genuinely. Thank you.
That said, do you have any ideas on why Eridan might specifically flirt as a sort of default response sometimes? (I really hope I'm not misremembering that, the fandom bastardizes the poor guy to be Cronus 2.0-)
I have my own personal speculation here, but I'd love to see your take on it!
I think it's a few things all working in tandem, and I think you definitely nailed at least most of it! I do agree that a huge part of his fixation on romance is the fact that a romantic partner is "supposed" to stick around, and Eridan is simply desperate for attention and friendship.
There are a lot of people who idealize relationships and believe that they're the "fix" or "solution" to their emotional problems, and Eridan's obsession with blackrom in particular (where the caligulas part of his trolltag comes from) definitely has shades of that. A kismesistude is an outlet for violent urges, as well as a romantic interest who ideally doesn't ghost you or leave you alone (cough Vriska cough), and one of the two concupiscent quadrants that needs to be filled so you don't get culled.
An interesting thing is constantly being implied within the comic, which is that moirallegiance is actually kind of the most important quadrant for trolls, but their culture has de-emphasized it in favor of the two breeding-related quads. After all, since adult trolls don't have to raise their own young, what Karkat calls "mating fondness" is biologically much less imperative to their species compared to the quadrant that keeps volatile trolls from going berserk and killing people.
Moirallegiance is always treated with a sort of mysticism - it's called "magical" by the narration in relation to Kanaya and Vriska's moirallegiance while that's still extant, it's the only quadrant described as "soul mates," and in contrast to "mating fondness," Karkat mentions the "mystical forces governing moirallegiance." Moirails - Equius and Nepeta being confirmed, but I genuinely believe that that's what Feferi and Sollux would have resolved to in that hypothetical golden ending - are also the quad that spends the most time together, rather than the two concupiscents. The initial description of the pale quadrant even outright says that the attraction is "instinctive." There's something magical and destiny-laden in a moirallegiance that just isn't there to the same extent in the other three quads.
But in Alternian society, kindness, guilt, and the other kinds of things you'd share with a moirail are considered weakness, especially for highbloods. When Feferi is breaking up with him, Eridan flips out the hardest at the implication that she felt the need to take care of him, insisting that he was perfectly fine. I think this is the reason, in addition to the painful breakup, that Eridan never pursues pale relationships, even though a moirail is what he desperately needs. Instead, he pursues the much more societally acceptible pitch quadrant, which can serve a similar purpose of discharging some of his pent-up aggression.
Moreover, his flirting isn't nearly as relentless as people think it is, although he IS both really stubborn AND really socially inept, which makes it difficult both to get a "no" through his brain, AND to make it stick. Another part of it is that he's operating at very little self-awareness, which means he'll often be doing something without consciously realizing it. Also, he's desperate as hell, and has basically no ability to differentiate good and bad attention. This leads to a pretty messy cocktail that basically means:
He'll hit on anyone at least once (desperation), with the exception of people it would be really weird to hit on, for example, their dancestors, who are way older than them.
If a rejection is not made excruciatingly clear, he probably won't register it as a rejection (dumbassery).
Nearly any attention he gets might be misinterpreted as flirting, even after a rejection is made (desperation, also, can't differentiate between good and bad attention).
Even after a rejection is made and he logically understands it and outright says he respects it, he might still act in a flirtatious way unconsciously (zero self awareness).
Because he will hit on anyone at least once, and is constantly making things weird and leaping to "romance?" even when there's no flirtatious intent, people kind of assume he's always hitting on them, even when he isn't.
His emotions always running at a fever pitch, and the lack of self-awareness he cultivates in order to help deal with his horrible cognitive dissonance, mean that even HE'S not sure about his real feelings. He's always feeling SOMETHING very, very intensely (it's the trauma and anxiety), which he mistakes for true caliginous hatred, or fevered flushed intent. Unlike Cronus, who's basically just trying to get some action, Eridan genuinely feels something for people, and his extreme lack of emotional intelligence means he has no idea how to parse his own tempestuous emotions. He always leaps to feverish concupiscent attraction because that's just how intense his emotions run at any given moment.
#4 is happening to Feferi and Sollux, IMO, while Rose never properly rejected him, so he still thinks they have a chance, and the same happened with Vriska when she started ghosting him post-kismesistude. #5 can be seen in his last memo with Karkat, where Karkat starts to wonder if past!Eridan was redflirting with him by inviting him to LOWAA, even as Eridan himself has no idea what the fuck Karkat is talking about.
Thing is, he DOES actually accept rejections once he gets them through his thick skull, which sets him apart from Cronus, who gets rejected, knows it, and keeps going. It's just... Eridan's messy. His emotions are all over the place, and too big for his stupid body, so he's always making things weird and intense.
I blame his lusus, personally. In a previous post, I talk about how a huge factor in his inability to identify negative attention is because he's basically being emotionally neglected. This has also led to his desperation for attention in general. When combined with the trauma from all the murdering and the pressure society puts on him to fit into a certain mold, it leads to some pretty explosive emotional ourbursts, of which his intense, insistent, and downright uncomfortable flirting is a major facet, but also, only a facet.
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HI SO HI UHMM I'm gonna try making this as non-weird and as short as I can even though I don't even know how to explain this rn-
Could I request hcs of Eddie and frank (together not separately poh) with a gn! reader that reminds them of a child kinda-?? SO TO PUT IT INTO WORDS UHH the reader is kinda child-ish and curious (like a child ofc😋) and a lot of the neighbors say that they're like a baby put in a /pos way! So technically the reader is frank and eddies non-biological child
Honestly- I imagine they got that one backpack with a leash for children for the reader or smth since the reader strays off a lot😭
Tinkyu 4 reading this and even acknowledging this even if I made some stuff non-understandable!!! This totally isnt that cute person that requested 4 astronomer reader (TOTALLY totally it isn't obvious right??) /j
KEEP SLAYING PO LABYU /PLATONIC
I just realized I made this so long i am sorey😢😔
WAHAHHA!! HELLO AGAIN HOSHI!! Love you too!!! /p
Hehehe.. found family… froths at the mouth, pacing in circles in my enclosure /lhj /pos
I am absolutely happy to write for this, and I don’t find it weird at all! No worries! Although I may use different wording at times :] /g /nm
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Scampering, Scuttling
Frank Frankly/Eddie Dear x GN!Childish!Reader
Headcanons Format, All Relations with the Reader are Platonic (Frank and Eddie, however, are in a romantic relationship!)
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When you first moved into the neighbourhood, your affinity for curiosity and lack of self-preservation quickly landed you onto Frank Frankly’s radar.
From scrapes knees to splintered hands, being stung by a bee, or getting stranded in a tree— your curiosity led you to many troubling situations. All of which Frank would march up to aid you out of with gentle lecturing.
“Neighbour, I am aware I told you of Bumble bees being one of the friendliest types of bees, but that does not mean grab them??”
You leave him in a confused mess of how you even end up in half of the situations you do. He ends up ranting (lovingly) about this to his darling partner, Eddie Dear.
“Oh-! The new neighbour? I didn’t know you two we’re friends.” He’d happily chirp to Frank, who was coddled up by his side.
“We are, yes! But they’re— like- agh-! Like an overexcited puppy!! I found them trying to pick up a centipede today!! A centipede!”
Do not be mistaken, Frank only raves because he cares! His extravagant expression of concern is how he shows he cares, along with picking you up after you fell into a river and drenched yourself. He isn’t truly angry! Just worried BAHA
“Awhah! I’m sure it isn’t too bad, butterfly.” Eddie would laugh cheerily, giving his partner’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe you could introduce me to them? Maybe I can help.”
And this, my dear reader, was how you got properly introduced to Eddie Dear.
To help you explore a bit (in a safer way than running through the surrounding forest), Eddie would take you on his paper runs— introducing you to all the neighbours.
Sometimes, he’d hold your hand on these runs— mainly just to get you to follow! He had quickly discovered you had a tendency to wobble off wherever you pleased, though you didn’t seem to realize half the time— leading to a few stumbles apologies when you eventually found him again. So, his solution was just to gently hold your hand as you two went on the routes!
.. He’d then buy you a treat from Howdy’s afterwards. He enjoys spoiling people!! But, ah, sugar rushes.
“.. Why would you let them eat so much chocolate?” Frank would ask, raising a brow as you ricocheted off the walls nearby.
“..They looked really happy about it.” He’d reply, with a nervous smile— soon laughing a bit at Frank’s soft sigh and playful eye roll.
“If they end up in a hole, it’s your fault, sweetheart.”
“That’s fine-!!”
Overall, it didn’t take the two long to start behaving somewhat parent-like towards you, more than they already had.
Frank would check you over for injures and plaster you in bug-themed bandaids, along with reading you “stories” from his books (and sometimes an actual story book).
He was a lot more reserved than Eddie, leading to most activities done with him being rather tame ones.
.. you could sometimes chase him around, though. Which, albeit he wouldn’t admit it, he does find fun in. Kind of like how people go to haunted houses for fun; he gets hunted in a house. /lhj
Eddie, meanwhile, would play with you a lot! He’d take you on walks of the town, and help you explore the place in a way that doesn’t have Frank screaming in worry at the end of the day.
He’s the classic “wanna play catch?” kind of person, to be honest, leading to a lot of playing ball and running around.
Both of them care about you very much! But still respect the fact you, very much, aren’t a genuine child and respect you like a friend. Because you are! You’re their friend!
But to say they don’t fret over you like parents would be a lie. BAHA!!
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GWAAH this was so fun to write!! I’m sorry if it’s kind of short, though-!! But I still hope it was enjoyable :] I love writing for Eddie and Frank fhehrfnfnw froths at the mouth i love them. squeezes them both like those stress toys that have the eyes pop out /aff
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bloodyshadow1 · 2 months
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weird thought, but does anyone else thing that Porter knows Gorgug's biological parents? It might have been confirmed already, and i missed it, I came in in the second half of Sophomore year so if it is whatever.
like not much to go on, but all throughout freshman year, Porter would call Gorgug, Gorbag instead of his name. This could be just Porter not caring about the new freshman in barbarian class which it could fit Porter's macho manly man personality. It wouldn't be out of character for him to not bother to learn the name of the particularly soft freshman in his class. But Gorgug's biological dad is named Gorbag, Porter calls Gorgug that before we're even introduced to the guy in the finale. Now Porter calls Gorgug, Thistlespring, instead of his first name, when it's not related to his dad. Again it fits since he's known Gorgug for 2 years going on 3 you kind of learn someone's name, but it's also not a story beat anymore.
Just a thought I had a while ago and got refreshed since Gorbag and Roz will be in the next ep.
I don't know, could be nothing, could be anything. Could have just been a way for Brennan to give Zac a way to find out about his bio parents before the end of freshman year
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transmutationisms · 7 months
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possibly too broad but do you have any thoughts on the discourse around self-pathologizing? seems like there’s weird territory there since there are so many barriers to diagnoses and people should be free to self-report, yet some pathologies are essentially capitalist inventions and it may be more harmful than helpful for people to fixate on them without some kind of external guidance (though i don’t mean to imply they need to consult medical practitioners). i also don’t really think faddishness is the big concern it’s made out to be, but what do you think?
yeah to me this is a good example of how genuinely epistemologically radical critique of psychiatry can become assimilated into pretty staid liberal discourses of self-empowerment / -care / -improvement. pathologisation, imo, is basically materially meaningless if it's not backed by the sorts of institutions and power relations that characterise the psychiatric establishment. which is to say, if we're only talking about diagnostic labels in a kind of personal-choice framework (as so much of the medium dot com industrial complex seems to be doing lately) then it robs these conversations of a lot of their urgency and impact. i don't think overreliance on the language of the dsm is particularly helpful, as a general matter of seeking to develop political consciousness as well as self-knowledge, but i also don't think it really matters one way or another if someone self-dxes or un-dxes. what makes a difference is things like: is this person being robbed of their autonomy? are these explanatory frameworks being imposed on them by credentialled experts levelling their professional status to claim epistemological authority over the psyche? what social and economic violence is being committed here? some rando online relating to a diagnostic label and using it for themself is not doing these things, and may very well be helpful to that person (it may also not. but again the harm here is p limited).
i have said before, a lot of what puts me personally off dsm labels is the essentialism they're in bed with. ie, it's not just a shorthand descriptor of behaviours or symptoms—these terms are pretty much always being wielded as claims to have identified a biologically based 'neurotype', eg, or some as-yet-unverifiable misery-engendering genetic complex, or whatever else. and to be clear, i think these types of claims do actually carry widespread social harm, because no matter what rhetorical games you play, you're never just saying these things about yourself. it's a claim to certain forms of bio-essentialism that both shores up professional psychiatric authority and applies to people besides yourself (this is just the nature of such universalising claims about human biology). but this is an issue that goes so far beyond use or disuse of diagnostic labels; plenty of people who have embraced superficial principles of anti-psych critique still make all manner of such essentialist claims when it comes down to it, with or without grabbing onto a specific diagnostic label. so i think the kind of panicking we see in certain left-leaning circles about self-dx is not actually about this issue at all, and is certainly not capable of addressing it productively.
without going insanely long here i would just add that this is kind of a general answer because different labels have different histories and functions (eg, compare the social and political function of pathologising a depressive episode, vs autistic traits / behaviours, vs a so-called personality disorder). and also, whenever talking about self-dx i think it's important to add that one of the most important functions of these labels from a patient perspective is they function as means of gatekeeping access to certain accessibility measures, so any kind of anti-self dx position in current political conditions will harm people who need those accommodations. and i have less than zero interest in questioning anybody who wants accessibility measures for literally any reason or uses any method to obtain them.
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vendetta-if · 5 months
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sorry if this has already been asked before – i'm new here and tumblr's search function is atrocious! so are ash and luka biologically related? i thought in the flashback where ash is sent to the principal's office luka is referred to as his dad, but then in the present day luka calls ash his favorite "nephew," which confused me. guessing ash and mc aren't actually cousins as that'd be weird but...
Nope, Luka and Ash are not biologically related 😆 And don’t worry, you’re not the first one who got a little bit confused about it. I know some readers, on first read, have mistakenly assumed that Luka and Cara were husband and wife as well 😭
But nope, Cara is not biologically related to either Luka or Viktor, but both boys have always considered her to be a big sister figure and the two brothers have always had really close relationship with her ever since they were all young.
That’s why Luka considers and calls Ash his nephew/niece too 🥺 And why he felt responsible for taking care, raising, and protecting Ash as well after Cara’s death.
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wonderlandoffanfics · 1 month
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Emotions suck, let’s drink instead
CW: alcohol and drug use (THC), Kid and reader suck at feels, Killer being the bestest (trying these characters for the first time!), mentions of not feeling comfortable as self or with own biological gender (fem) - kinda hints at being non-binary but no pronouns used at all.
WC: 5415
Nearly ten drinks in; it’s been a handful of hours at the bar and no one wants to go back yet. You are celebrating your first year with the crew and Heat insisted that you all go out to party since you docked yesterday to reset the log pose. Well, most everyone except Kid and Killer were there. You weren’t sure of their exact reasons but they said they were going to meet up with everyone later and just haven’t showed up yet. Probably enjoying the peace on the ship so Killer can organize the kitchen or sharpen his blades and Kid can work on his newest project in his workroom. You know there are times that they prefer to be alone and they most likely took advantage of the crew being gone.
Though, Kid has been acting weird lately, for at least a few months now. You asked Heat about it but he just shrugged and said he hadn’t noticed much of anything. Maybe you were just reading into things but it seemed like he was avoiding you most days. Unless you went into towns, visiting brothels with the guys and drinking too much, then when you got back in his gaze you would feel like he was burning holes through you. Still, he never said anything to you, just stared with his alluring albeit piercing eyes.
When you first joined the crew he seemed to treat you like everyone else, like one of the guys, which is how you liked it. You’ve never really felt like much of a stereotypical woman, regardless of what you had under your clothes. Being with the men just felt right, and being with women outside of physical relations just got difficult, as if you weren’t speaking the same language more than half the time, it made you recognize you hate being one of them. You felt mentally alien with your own gender. It hurt to spend more than a few hours with anyone not on the crew any more, since they all seemed to understand this about you and treat you the way you appreciated being treated.
You thought you had gotten closer to everyone, including the Captain and first mate, but clearly they didn’t care as much as you wanted them to. They should be here too, you wanted them here. It’s hard to not want to be around them, but especially when you feel the most like yourself. However, drink after drink you started feeling more like you shouldn’t be celebrating. You laughed with the crew but felt hollow inside. You shouldn’t desire the validation of those two this much but something was clawing at you on the inside of your skull, driving you to wish for their presence every moment that passed.
Hitting the 15th drink and barely being able to stand (seeing as you mixed hard liquor and beer all night) Heat sidles next to you at the bar and quietly asks if you’d like to go back and go to bed. You nod and he helps you stand, trying to appear as stable as possible while saying goodnight to everyone left over. Some decided to go back to the brothels about town since you were departing, and others went to stay at inns after the bar closed.
Walking back with Heat got you slurring your words about Kid to him, but he’s used to this from you. You had a tendency to focus on the captain, and ask Heat if he had any new info about what was going on. He always shrugs it off, no news to tell, but states you should just talk to him and ask yourself. Like you’d be able to do that after he makes you feel like you’re made of glass and he can see everything inside you and beyond. Even this intoxicated you wonder if you’d just make a complete ass of yourself trying to talk to him, though it would make it easier, you’d prefer to just slur your words at him and hope he doesn’t understand. At least you would get it out of your system and say you tried.
By the time you reach the Victoria Punk you feel a bit better on your own two feet. You thank Heat as he walks you up the gang plank but urge him to go enjoy the rest of the night; he does, after triple checking with you, leaving you to the cool night air on deck.
The stars are shining, no moon to speak of, and it’s cloudless with the slightest of breezes coming off the sea. You can taste the salt in the air; it’s quiet and tranquil, only insects and waves to be heard as the noises of the town are far from the docks. Before you realize it, you’re lying on your back, staring up at the night sky, just breathing in the harmonious evening.
Now that you’re home, and just slightly more sober than you were a bit ago, you pull a flask from your pocket and drink more. Time to encourage sleep to come; you’re certain no one will be back tonight anyway, so sleeping outside on the deck shouldn’t be a problem. Plus without the booze, your mind would just continue to race about everything and nothing. It never shuts off without help, it’s been like this since you can remember and thank the gods for drugs and booze because without them, you may not sleep until your body forces it.
With your eyes closed you take another swig of liquor from the flask and sigh.
“Hey.” Startled, you tilt your head up against the wood of the deck to see Killer standing near you, mask turned towards the rolling waves over the rails. You can only hum in response now, a bit too drunk for proper words. “Need help getting to your cabin?” You close your eyes and tried to speak, “ ‘mmkay ‘ere fo mow” Killer sighs, “clearly.”
“wewerer y’two?” you hiccup to him, “miss’dcha” He sits next to you, “Sorry.” You hum again and go back to listening to the nature around you. Without warning you feel your head being lifted up and gently put back down on something firm but soft. Looking up, you see Killer much closer now, torso right next to your face, “drink this, please.” He holds water in front of you, now lying against his lap, giving you better angle to drink from. You do as he says then lean back on him, cuddling up to his warmth instinctively after chugging a good portion of water from the canister.
“You should really go to bed, sleeping out here will get you sick in this state. Kid would be upset…” You jump in your skin when you hear Kid’s name and stare at Killer, stopping him mid-sentence with your reaction. “Regardless, we can’t have you getting ill from your own celebration.” He finishes.
“He rare’y s’eaks ta me…” you mutter and look away, towards Killer’s feet and across the deck. You lift your flask to take another shot but Killer stops you, “He will. In the meantime, let’s give up the flask and get you to bed, okay?” you just nod and attempt to sit up a bit, arms bent under you only able to lift you slightly from Killer until the deck is spinning, you close your eyes again and breathe deep. Killer picks you up and rubs your back as you curl comfortably into his chest, holding tight around his neck for stability; he walks you slowly to your cabin, leaving a bucket near your bed just in case you need it. Making sure you are on your side and comfortable, he tucks the blanket around you and pats your head gently. You fall fast asleep.
---
Forever the insomniac, you wake a few hours later, still kind of drunk, to the sounds of birds chirping and metal clanking. The world looks blurry but you manage to get up and go to the kitchen for coffee, maybe a little hair of the dog will help your morning. You find a pot already made, and Killer working on a small pile of breakfast. Clearly not enough for the crew, you bet most are still out in town sleeping off their evening escapades.
A cup in hand, you sit at the counter and take out your flask to empty the end of its contents into the dark liquid. “Really?” you hear Killer ask. You lightly shush him and bring the mixture to your lips, breathing in the aroma of your medicine and taking a long drink. “I need this for reasons.” You finally breathe out. “Sure. Do you want any food in your stomach or just alcohol and caffeine?” you look at him and shake your head with a sour face, “food doesn’t sound like a plan right now, but thank you.”
Slamming back the rest of your drink, you stand to clean your cup and leave when Kid walks in. You can feel his eyes on you but you dare not look at him, still unsure of how to be around him, or why he’s been acting the way he has. Maybe you did something to warrant the silence. Maybe you should just go drink in the shower and hide away until the crew comes back and you can mix in with the group. You clutch your flask in one hand and begin to fast walk to the door but it’s pulled from your grasp.
“Confiscated until further notice. Go take a shower and sober up.” Your captain says sternly, the flask flying into his hand as he sits down to eat. You turn abruptly and briefly look at him with a pout you couldn’t control. He had been looking at you until your eyes met, but he quickly turned his attention to his food and slid the container into his pocket. You let out a childish huff and made your way to do as your captain said.
 You’d be lying if you didn’t think about taking your stashed bottle of rum with you into the shower. Just because he had your flask doesn’t mean he has all the liquor locked up too, but you thought better of going against his word. The last thing you want is to make him any more upset than he probably already is. Without the alcohol though, your head is throbbing with anxious energy, you can’t stop thinking of your captain and what you may have done to make him basically ignore you all these months.
The last real interaction you recall was at a brothel; you had just finished with one of the courtesans and another patron who had flirted with you earlier in the evening at a bar down the road. You and the random guy were coming down the stairs, laughing about something stupid, and your captain was in the bar area when he spotted you coming towards him. You waved at the guy as he was leaving and hopped on a seat next to Kid.
“Did he pay to watch?” he snickered while taking a chug of his glass. “Nope, but I got him to pay for her services to the group, so free three-way!” you laughed and waved the bartender down for a mug. Kid coughed like he breathed in some of his drink, “I didn’t realize you…were into guys too.” He looked down at the bar. “Oh yeah, I’m pretty fluid for whoever. So long as I like the person, I don’t care what they’re packing.” A drink was sat in front of you and you promptly began chugging it like it was water.
Kid slams the rest of his drink back and proceeds to pay for you both before walking away. “Thanks! I’ll see you back on the ship in a bit!” you shout after him and he waves behind himself as his long strides take him out the door.
Now you were thinking back on it, maybe you shouldn’t have told him about the three-way? But what was wrong with that? You knew the crew was filled with raunchy stories like that all the time, it’s not like you were the first. You try to shake the thoughts from your head as you feel the water running cold. “Fuck.” You didn’t comprehend how long you were standing there, just lost in yourself.
---
By the evening the crew had come and gone again, knowing the ship was set to leave tomorrow; they had one more night in town to do whatever they wanted. Heat asked if you wanted to come to the brothel tonight and you said you would meet him there, just have to try to get your comfort flask back from the captain before you head out. He wished you a sincere good luck before catching up to Wire on the docks.
Kid had just finished delegating some instructions to a few final crew members who were tasked with watching the ship tonight when you eyed him across the deck. As they dispersed you meandered your way towards him, attempting to hide your awkwardness. You had hopes you wouldn’t even have to say anything and he would just toss it to you and let you go about your evening, but why would he make anything easy on you?
He watched as you neared him, “Need something?” he asked, patting his pocket where he had the flask. “I do…. A great need, actually, if you don’t mind.” Smiling back at him with a hand out, anticipating the ease you dreamed of. “Too damn bad for you. I’ll be joining tonight: this, and you, will remain with me.” Your mouth went agape at his words and it forced a taken-aback chuckle to emerge from your throat. “If you don’t like that, you can stay here and remain sober, with Killer.” Killer passes behind you and hears this, whispering, “Why am I being punished too?” Kid must have heard that because he flipped Killer off quickly before beginning to walk off the ship.
Clearly you wanted this to go another way and he knew that but your desire to be intoxicated was stronger than your fear of whatever has been going on with your captain lately so you tag along behind him, Killer also in tow. You both stay behind Kid as he walks toward the nearest brothel, “I told you he would say something to you.” Killer quietly says to you. “Yeah, but this was not on my list of conversation ideas…” you push out of the side of your mouth at him.
Once inside the brothel, the three of you sat at the bar, Killer on your right, and Kid on your left; sandwiched between the ones you desperately wanted around you last night. You had the bartender make you two drinks; slammed one and began lifting the other when Kid looked at you with side eye, “what you’ve never watched me at a bar before? Oh wait, I’m certain you have.” You torment as you turn on your stool to check out tonight’s line up of ladies.
Kid used his power on the metal rim of your stool to turn you back around, “If you want your flask back, at all, you’ll stay right by me tonight.” His eyes lock onto yours and you squirm in your seat.
“I’m not the only one who drinks a lot, you know, I don’t see why I’m being punished.” You frown and cross your arms in another childish display of irritation.
“I’m not punishing you for drinking, but I should for your attitude today, brat.” You both take a drink to settle the wave of tension. “I just thought we should celebrate with you tonight… since we didn’t join yesterday, and I took your flask to keep you from running off. And also so you wouldn’t drink in the shower again.”
You looked at him as he stared at his mug, “how do you know I do that sometimes?”
His face was turning pink, “I can sense the metal in the pile of clothes you take in there, it’s not like I’m watching you.”
“No, not watching, just taking notes.” You giggle then think to yourself about other things he could be using his power for. You are now very aware of your nipple piercings basically being on display under your clothes to him as your own face turns pink and you cover yourself with your left arm.
Killer nudges your right arm and just places his hands on the bar, holding his mug, indicating you should do the same; as if he could read your mind and shouldn’t make it more obvious what you were thinking.
 “Anyways!” you start, “Thanks for taking care of me last night, Killer.” He stiffens, “ I can only imagine how much worse off I would have been this morning if I had slept on deck, though those stars were sorely missed, and we could have cuddled a bit more; next time though” you wink at him and see his neck turn a bit red.
“Ah so you weren’t too drunk to remember.” He says. “And it wasn’t really cuddling.” Unsure why he was trying to clarify you lean on his shoulder for a moment, “than neither is this, I guess you’re just my shoulder to lean on.” A prompt pull from your left had you off Killer’s shoulder before you could make a cute face at him to tease him even more; however you were now leaning on the man that pulled you. Adjusting immediately back to sitting straight, you turn your attention back to your mug and chug your second drink, calling the bartender for more already.
“What, are you afraid of me or something?” Kid asks angrily, hand gripping his drink, reshaping the metal mug. Killer excuses himself quietly, brushing your shoulder with his hand; only a mild comfort seeing as your support is running away.
“No… but also… I don’t know.” You can’t look him in the eyes as you finally succumb to your fear of sharing these thoughts. “Maybe we could drink a bit more…” you trail off, proceeding with your feelings makes your mouth dry, every instinct is telling you to get belligerently intoxicated. You just want to turn everything off; your face is betraying you, grimacing at each lost syllable dying to spill from your guts.
Kid slams your flask onto the bar, finishes his drink in one gulp and gets up as well. “You come find me when you do know then; I’ll be in my workshop.” Your head drops to the bar, agony seeping from your pores. You turn your face to the door only to see his broad shoulders turning the corner and walking outside.
“I literally walked away for less than a minute, what happened?” Killer comes back and blocks your view of the empty doorway. “I just…. Can’t bring myself to talk about things, at least not unless I’m super fucked up.” You tilt your head back so your forehead is flat on the bar top, unable to look Killer in his mask right now. He pats your back, “you talk to Heat just fine, drunk and sober.” Hearing this makes you sit up right, “what did he tell you?” you glare, half looking around to see where that idiot was, as if you could see through the walls and locate his position.
“Nothing specific, but I’m also not as oblivious as you and Kid are.” Killer admits and lets out a big sigh. “If you need to drink more to get this over with, than do it; I’ll help you back to the ship.” You just stare at him for a second, taking that in. “If this is truly what we’re doing tonight, then it would be cheaper if we drank on deck… and I also know something extra that gets me to talk, but you can’t get pissy about it.” You hold your finger to his chest, praying he won’t confiscate the only other thing you hold dear. “I wasn’t the one who took your stuff to begin with.” If he ever laughed out loud now would be the moment you suspect he would.
----
Back on the deck of the Victoria Punk, you had your flask full and a little metal case in hand with it. “You wanna share with the group what you have?” Killer motions to your stashed items. A smirk grows on your face as you open the case and show him a couple rows of pre-rolled joints. “Ah, of course.” As you light one up and take a couple hits, you offer to Killer and he surprisingly accepts; being able to smoke through his mask was a fun thing to see as you began your crossfade.
“So, tell me about what you’ve noticed, as a third party observer. Since you aren’t as oblivious as some of us.” You send Killer a glance and a giggle as you continue to pass the joint back and forth.
“I won’t say everything, seeing as you both need to talk about things, but since you’re also both really bad at emotions…. I’ll hint you this; eye contact and honesty would be best from both of you if you can just buck up and bear it for like 5 minutes. I see you being able to get him to crack, if you just let go first.” He passes the joint and motions for you to finish it.
“If I can actually get the words out without vomiting with them, will it be worth it? Or will I find out something I don’t want to know?” you stare into the sea, hoping for the peace you felt the night before to overtake you again.
“It’s in everyone’s best interest if you at least try.” He rubs your back again and just like last night you feel more at ease, “Just know, he doesn’t invite anyone to disturb him in his workroom, but he angrily told you that is where to find him.”
Finishing your toke, you put out the embers and hide the roach back in the case, taking a big swig of rum from your flask and shaking out your nerves you prep yourself for what may come. “Okay. Okay, you’re right. I gotta just grow a pair and get in there and… UGH. FINE! Emotions suck.”
----
Standing outside the workshop door has your stomach in knots. There’s a heavy feeling in the air, consuming your movements, keeping you from knocking, barely allowing you to breathe. Killer clears his throat down the hall, watching you stiff as a board and staring at the intimidating door, the noise jostles you from your trance slightly and you sigh deeply. One last shot from your flask for courage, keeping your crossfade mildly intact.
Knock, knock, knock…. You gently rap against the wood and metal. A stern and loud “What!?” pierces your ears and you see a crack appear, allowing you to come in with a simple nudge. You knew he must have sensed you, must have known who it was the whole time you traced the details of the door with your eyes, waiting for the muscles in your body to allow you to proceed and alert him you were ready to talk.
“Hi” you exhaled out as you slipped through the door and it closed behind you, now trapped in a room with the one person who made your whole body feel like jelly. Anticipation making your heart thud in your chest. Your mind is in overdrive as you watch him turn around and stand to face you completely. How do you start this, how will it end, what of this feeling in your gut, in your chest? How long has this tightness been growing in response to his presence? 
You are much more in tune with your emotions when drunk and/or high and right now, you were feeling something that was buried deep, deep, down before. A desire for your captain; his intimidating aura, the way his muscles dance when he moves even so slightly, the smell of metal that lingers in the air around him, and the sound of his heavy steps as he makes his way towards you. Everything he did was enticing. You may have lost grip of these feelings while he had avoided you, lacking his presence like this was like being in a sensory deprivation tank, floating in silence and nothingness, or maybe they are just now surfacing because you’ve never been in his personal space like this before. This room was meant for privacy; an intimate space that you were allowed to enter for a conversation just as sacred as the walls around you. You were being rapidly pulled from the sense deprived stupor you had yourself in for months and flung into an overwhelming situation.
He was inches from you now, you crane your neck to look into his eyes, trying hard to recall that Killer made it clear to speak honestly and keep eye contact. His beautiful, fierce, and captivating eyes; how could you look away now that he has you here, in his special hideaway, far from anything else that could interfere with what may occur. As if this room was the entire world.
“What?” He repeats himself in a quieter and softer tone, speaking directly to you but still demanding you release the words so anxiously cradled in your throat. You swallow what little saliva was being created in your mouth; you go to drink from your flask again when his hand covers the top of it, holding your motion still in front of your heaving chest.
“You need the booze just to talk to me? Just spit it out dammit!” a relentless tremble came over you, Kid’s words filling you with apprehension that would either shut you down or let the flood gates open. The latter became true when his muscles twitched, almost turning away from you until you finally began to speak.
“I do. I really fucking do need the booze. For so many reasons, but honestly right now, just to get these words out without throwing up from fear, not of you, but of myself. Of the emotions I feel. Of the fear I have that you aren’t even interested in being around me anymore. It’s been months since we have had this much interaction and I don’t know what I did to encourage this…. this…. abandonment I’ve felt from you. I see you constantly but I notice you turn away like you can’t even look at me. I started doing the same because I figured you hated me for something I did or said or…” every word came rushing from you, some slurring together and sounding like they were one, combined into strung sentences of panic that you may not be able to complete the thoughts swirling in your mind, you were just hoping to sound a bit coherent and convey how you need him. You need him to be what he was, at the very least; months ago when you felt he was more than your captain, like he was a friend.
As you tried to continue your quick rant, tears threatening to fall from your grimaced face, you were stopped by a force against your body. Your captain had you wrapped in his arms, pressed against his chest, muscles tight enough around you to feel comfort and safety rather than a need to struggle free and hide. You heard his breath caught in his throat like he was going to speak, just as nervous as you were moments ago, now in a gentle but firm embrace you decide to wrap your arms around him as well, allowing the same comfort to wash over his body, feeling your reciprocation.
“I don’t hate you. I’m sorry you’ve felt abandoned. I just… well I guess we’re much alike in the way we don’t handle emotions well, or at all. I told myself if I stopped trying to get close to you that I could move past what was dwelling in me, something I haven’t felt in a long time and never knew I would be able to feel again…” He stops and you feel his head rest against yours, arms dropping from around your shoulders to your waist. His flesh hand begins to slowly stroke up and down your spine, leaving you tingling at the light touch over your shirt.
“Every time we would dock and I would see you at the brothels, having a good time drinking and…. Doing whatever else… I had this pit open inside me. It was hard to not watch you, but when you would catch me I felt a burning that caused to me turn from your gaze. I didn’t want you see what I’m sure was written all over my face.” You stood stunned in his embrace and pulled back slightly to look at him again. Eye contact; now you needed it.
“Were you… jealous? I’ve been told I was oblivious but am I really that blind?” he dropped his forehead to yours, “I was. And I’m glad that you were.” He let out, eyes just far enough that you could see the need in them; a need for you, a need that you wanted to return. 
Bringing your arms to his chest, you caress his pecs, gliding one up further to his neck pressing and inviting him to come closer as you ready yourself to give in to desire. His body responds and you sense his metal arm lower to your thighs, easing you into a hold, lifted from the ground ever so gently. A more level playing field envelopes you both as your lips finally meet.
Gentle and hesitant for only a moment, the amount of time it took for your eyes to flutter shut. A mutual hunger overtook you both as an impatient tongue pushed its way to your own, you rolled yours against his and openly accepted the unyielding invasion. The hand you had on his neck slid into his hair, grabbing and twirling your fingers in the soft red locks, tormenting a groan from deep within him. The aggressive passion kept you locked to each other until your lungs forced you to inhale. His heartbeat was running wild under your touch, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
You were pressed against the door at this point; his hand moved to cup your face after parting for air, thumb brushing your cheek while strong fingers wrapped your jaw and graced your ear with a feather light tickle. His metal arm under you is barely holding you up now that your legs are wrapped around his hips, squeezing him between your thighs.
Leaning into his hand, you release a content sigh and smile. Your breathing has calmed and you only focus on the heat being exchanged between skin and clothes, and heart beats that are louder than any storm you’ve ever heard; as if at any second the thunderous roar will lull you to a sweet dream.
Your adrenaline from the moment begins to dissipate and the crossfade creeps back in, causing you to lower your feet to the floor for more stability. “You okay?” Still resting your face in his hand, eyes closed with a grin, you bring your own hand to his and nuzzle the warmth he emanated. “The okayest I’ve been in a long time.” You feel him kiss your forehead, “Yeah? You feeling tired?” you nod in response, “I don’t wanna but I think I should go to bed soon… best to sleep when I can since it often eludes me…”
Already drifting off, you hear him hum and soon you are being lifted through the hallway, cuddled against the broad chest of your captain. You hear a door open and close before being gently placed onto a bed. Something feels off as you finally open your eyes and realize you are not in your own bedroom. Kid takes off his boots and coat before taking off yours as well, covering you up under the blankets and crawling in next to you.
You’ve never felt safer or more comfortable as you curl up against Kid in his bed. This would be the best night of sleep, and first of many to come, that you’ve ever had.
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fever-project · 2 months
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All the LU Warriors headcanons I’m seeing in the tags makes me want to share my own so uh, have them.
He rarely talked for most of his life. He never really wanted to after puberty hit, he didn’t like how his voice sounded. So he barely interacted with anyone that wasn’t his immediate family. After the war started, however, he wanted to talk more. Even though Proxi could talk for him-which he was very grateful for-he wanted to be able to voice his own opinions by himself.
Speaking of immediate family, he currently has none. He and Linkle are not biologically related, but after the war they now consider themselves to siblings. Linkle’s older by two days.
Wars has a thing for his Zelda(I’m not calling her Artemis I do not like that name for her)but he hasn’t made any moves yet. He gets nauseous whenever he thinks about dating in any kind(mainly Cia’s fault). Zelda respects this, and doesn’t show that she has any romantic feelings about him whatsoever because she doesn’t want to scare him. Wars just thinks his love is one sided, making him wanting to ask her out even less. Linkle’s trying her best to help them out, but she hasn’t been successful yet.
Enough about love, because Wars is a-spec. He’s somewhere on there, I know it. Definitely not me projecting.
Wars loves clothing and the occasional dressing up. He never tells anyone this, but everyone during the war knew it. He got the others to participate too.
Legend once sarcastically criticized Wars’ fashion choice and he changed into his Koholint Hero’s Clothes for a week. Wars did not tell him why he did or what the clothes were called, but Wars felt so proud of himself. Legend just thought he was just making fun of him for his pink hair or something.
Wants to tell Legend so bad about Marin, but Marin probably told him that if he ever meets her Link, to not tell him he met her. She didn’t want to give him any hope that they’ll meet again, because they won’t.
Wars loves fairies. He loves them so much. He loves feeding them, dressing them up, taking care of them, all of that. Fairies love him too, because he tries to feed them whenever the chain isn’t looking. He tries to make sure that no one else knows, since he thinks it’s a bit embarrassing.
Wars wants to use everyone’s items one day. He had so much fun using the Spinner during the war, not to mention the Fire Rod. But he never really asks, since he doesn’t wants to come off as weird.
The ends of his scarf/cape thing used to be red, like in the game, but the dye faded after a few years. He tried to redye it, but it didn’t really work.
He was the captain of his own, specific group consisting of the wayward warriors from across time. They all did interact with regular soldiers, but they mostly worked with just each other and looked to Wars to guide them. Since he usually only command with these guys so I guess he was more of a lieutenant? Idk how ranks work tbh. Nevertheless, he was always called captain by the others, since most of them didn’t really know how ranks worked either. Captain just seemed to fit him. The others who did know about ranks just went along with calling him captain.
Impa helped him so much you have no idea. He was a pretty good leader by himself, but he always appreciated the help.
Both dislikes Tingle and is eternally confused by him. And disturbed. Can’t bring himself to hate him though.
Wars knows things. He’ll nod his head along whenever Time or Wind tell the group their stories, he’s heard them all before anyhow. He does the same with Legend, Sky, and Twilight when they share as well, since he’s heard a lot from their friends. He usually pretends that he doesn’t know anything, however. He’s just nodding along to nod along.
Wars hasn’t told Sky that he met Fi before yet. He doesn’t want to give him any false hope that she’ll wake up again.
he hopes that she’ll wake up too.
Wars doesn’t really understand Four’s negative view of dark magic, or anyone’s negative view of dark magic. A few of his items has a dark attribute, he’s worked with people who had dark magic(like midna), and he’s taken care of dark fairies. Dark magic is just like fire or water magic to him, it’s another type of magic that just so happens to be used by bad guys a lot.
Wars gets along pretty well with Twilight. I’d like to think he’s close with everybody, and besides Time and Wind(and the more teasing relationship with Legend) Twilight’s up there. Probably tied with Sky.
Probably interacts with Hyrule, Wild, and Four the least, compared to others. They all get along, but he almost never actively searches for them to hang out.
Very vague whenever he talks about his adventure. Usually just says something about the war and refuses to elaborate. Everyone’s usually fine with this since most of them do the same thing, but he’s dramatic about it.
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daenystheedreamer · 7 months
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Wondering how you are connecting the valar thing to patriarchy? I don't disagree I just feel like I missed some steps in your post lmao
yeah my bad i forget this isnt my personal secret diary that no one reads and also that you need more than the alpha and the omega this isnt jesus. you also need beta gamma delta etcetc like posts need linking threads so my b brother
so my personal valyrian incest theory is material and economic: that the dragonlords wanted to hoard wealth within families (much like a dragon!) and especially hoard the supposed 'dragonrider blood', which necessitated the marrying of brothers to sisters. its european monarchical consanguinity taken to its absurd extreme. the incest is mentioned as being among dragonrider families specifically.
but i think it goes a step further i think having weapons of mass destruction that are linked basically biologically and equally (as in, both men and women can be dragonriders) gives women especially feudal women an INSANE amount of personal mobility and agency. letting women start their own families and well deseminate the bloodline means both the wealth is spread and this caste system crumbles. there were only about 40 dragonrider families in valyrian aristocracy.
there's theories that the incest is for the purposes of blood magic, that it makes them for real actually ethnically superior (bleugh kys), that there is a magical spiritual etc reason for it but i prefer materialism sorry i think it makes it more interesting i like human conflict in the story about humanity :(
and my linchpin for all this like threadbare nonsense is how aegon wed visenya to shore up his inheritance. it is a fundementally sexist act it places aegon's inheritance above visenya's. there is the implication that visenya could have, in the future, been a threat to his inheritance.
we predominantly see valyrian incest only in the targs which is unfortunate (FOR ANALYSIS FOR ANALYSIS!!!) since the targs and their relation to valyria is so fucking emotional and freudian and weird so they're not like a neutral test case. but the incestuous dynamics are so so so often deeply misogynistic. its men wielding power over women because their lusts are more important, because they are entitled to women. again it all goes back to the FIRST DANY CHAPTER. viserys forcefully marrying 13yo daenerys, dressed in golden collars just like the slaves etched in valyrian runes, to an adult man with the near gleeful knowledge she will be raped and abused.
SO THE FUCKING VALAR THING. honestly mostly a joke for me. all my posts are just things i think are funny in the ten seconds i post them. morghul- means death and dohae- means serve and the -is suffix is i think genitive?? leaving the 'valar' to serve (heh) as the 'all men' section of the quote. there's an elio+linda quote saying valar is probably in reference to valyria (as opposed to a reference to the valar of tolkien). it reminds me of how patria (fatherland, country, etc) is from pater (father). valyria - valar. its just very masculine and my nerd etymologist brain thought it was funny. i hope this rambling 7 paragraph fucking unabomber manifesto sounding answer makes sense 💀
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ugh-yoongi · 1 year
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ho ho horrible | jhs
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(or, the one where your neighbor is a relentless christmas caroler and refuses to take a hint, but at least he's really hot.)
❆ pairing: hoseok x f. reader ❆ genre(s): neighbor au, holiday au, one-sided e2l | humor, fluff, smut ❆ rating: explicit. minors dni. ❆ warnings: vague non-korean setting. christmas. reader has a one-sided beef with hoseok's caroling and is extremely awkward. taehyung is here and he's weird, idk. there is smut in this but it is not super explicit and mostly flowery, so if ur only reading for that part i wouldn't bother. however, smut warnings: kissing, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), hobi touches himself. this was mostly an excuse to write both a hobi & a holiday fic. ❆ word count: 5.2k ❆ thank you: bee / @hot-soop, for beta'ing this for me and saying "oh shit this got real fast" and making me wheeze. thank u love u. ❆ a/n: idk. like i said, this was just an excuse to write a christmas fic before christmas. riding fakie kicked my ass and took me 500 years and i banged this out in, like, two sittings. the universe can be so cruel. that said, i probably won't be around much between now & new years day, so if you celebrate christmas i hope you all have a wonderful one. happy holidays, happy new year, cheers to 2023. ♡
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Christmas has threatened to break you before.
That one Christmas where your parents had sworn up and down was just going to be the three of you, only to tell you at the last minute your entire extended family was coming for dinner and gifts, and then your horrible little gremlin of a cousin flung mashed potatoes into your hair and pushed you down the stairs and broke your arm? Your parents never invited them again, but yeah, you’d come dangerously close to an aneurysm that year.
Not to mention the first Christmas in your first apartment. You’d been running late, scotch tape and ribbon stuck in places they had no business being stuck in, and your phone was vibrating relentlessly in your purse as you waddled to the elevator, gift pile threatening to tumble over, and it was fine. You were going to make it to your car in one piece. Make it to your parents’ on time. Eat enough food to have you popping the button on your pants, and then compound the issue with dessert, and your cousins were going to be celebrating in their corner of hell rather than with you. Everything was going to be merry and festive and bright.
And then the elevator broke down and you were stuck in there for over two hours.
All that to say—you and Christmas have a sordid history, so you’re no stranger to yuletide stress. You’re stronger than this, forged in the flames of failed holidays past, and you’ve put that biological adaptability to use and soldiered on. This Christmas will not break you, but it’s certainly trying its fucking best.
“You look tired.”
Your gaze snaps up and to the left, where noted office menace Kim Taehyung is staring down at you over the ledge of your cubicle wall. He’s dyed his hair an offensive shade of red in an effort to win the department-wide holiday cheer contest. For the third year in a row. No one else even bothers to participate anymore. “I’m fine,” you answer, jaw clenched. You like Taehyung, but you haven’t had a proper night’s rest in almost a week. Not since—
“Why not?” he asks, genuinely curious and concerned and unaware of social norms. “Were you up late watching Home Alone? That’s relatable, honestly. I’ve seen it a hundred times and still can’t help but watch it every time it’s on. The sequel, too. I can’t decide which one I like better. The original’s a classic, but I love Tim Curry, so it’s hard to choose…”
You suck in a breath. Exhale and count to five, because you like Taehyung and don’t want to hurt his feelings, but—“No, I wasn’t watching Home Alone.”
“Oh. Why, then?”
A quick glance at your computer tells you it’s almost one o’clock. “Tell you over lunch?”
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Sometimes you can’t believe your luck.
Because the universe is fair and just, the torture of Christmas is cancelled out by the ease of homeownership. As soon as you’d announced your intent to buy a house, everyone came crawling out of the woodwork with tips and this one weird trick! and horror stories about realtors, mortgage and insurance companies, god-awful sellers. You’d been spooked. Almost called the whole thing off to spend another year renting until you felt confident enough to go up against those stressors, but it… hadn’t gone like that.
It’d really been as simple as: get approved for mortgage, see house online, tour house, put in offer, sign a ton of paperwork, move in. Easy peasy; you couldn’t figure out why everyone had been complaining. You’d gotten your dream house in your dream location, quiet side street in a desirable part of the city, for under your max budget. The neighbor on your right baked you cookies to welcome you to the neighborhood. The house on the left had been home to a nice couple with a young kid until they decided to relocate to the suburbs, and it’d been empty for a while until—
“Your neighbor is a caroler?”
You nod, shoulders sagging as you spear your salad far too violently, and all Taehyung can do is grimace. No shit, you think, taking in his pained expression, try living next door to him. “A caroler,” you confirm.
Taehyung whistles low as he sinks into the booth, vinyl creaking under his weight. “Does he wear the little hat and everything?”
You pause, fork halfway to your mouth. “No, just normal clothes, I think.”
“Bummer.” He pouts. “I like the little hats. Wait, what do you mean I think?”
“I mean I think,” you reiterate. “As in I don’t actually know, because I shut off all the lights and pretend I’m not home every time they knock on my door.”
Taehyung gasps, really selling that you’ve mortally wounded him with this piece of information, and you think it might be a little overdramatic. So what if you don’t answer the door? You’re a young, single woman who lives alone and has listened to true crime podcasts—of course you don’t answer the door. You don’t answer it for anyone!
“How could you?” Taehyung accuses, which prompts an eye roll from you.
“I’m a young, single woman who lives alone and has listened to true crime podcasts—”
“Which are exploitative and capitalize on suffering and paranoia, not to mention are usually nothing more than free PR for cops—”
“Well, I don’t listen to them anymore!” Taehyung seems appeased by this, so you continue. “My point is: I don’t answer the door for anyone. Not delivery people, not the Mormons, definitely not the Jehovah’s Witnesses, and not Christmas carolers. It’s nothing personal.”
Your coworker quirks an eyebrow. “Except it is.”
“Yeah, exactly.”
Taehyung hums. He’d ordered a sandwich the size of his head and has barely put a dent in it, so you’re going to be here awhile. “Have you tried asking them to not carol in front of your house?”
“I don’t think it matters,” you concede, frown deep and unattractive. Are you being dramatic? It feels like you’re being dramatic, but you’ve already committed to the bit. “They stay on the sidewalk and that’s public property. Didn’t stop those shitty campaign people from sticking the signs in that little strip of grass last month.”
“Ugh, I forgot about that guy. At least he lost.”
“Amen, brother.”
Taehyung scrunches his nose. “Yeah, maybe don’t say that ever again.” Fair. You nod. “Hm. You think one of those ‘no solicitation’ signs would work?”
“Is Christmas caroling considered solicitation?”
Half of the turkey slides off Taehyung’s sandwich when he picks it up, bread gone soggy under the weight of mayonnaise and time, and you reckon now’s as good a time as any to find out.
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What you lack in competent cousins and considerate neighbors you make up for in friends.
Friends in high places, specifically. Friends you can call in emergencies, which is why you’re locked in your bathroom, phone trembling against your ear, as the muted sounds of caroling trickle in from the street. You’re nearly in its grasp, which is why you’ve had to act quick: lights off, military crawl along the floor, pick a room with no street-side exterior windows.
Seokjin sighs. “Taehyung said you were being overdramatic about this. I should’ve listened.”
“Listened to what?” You roll your eyes. “I’m not asking you to break me out of my house. I simply called to ask you, an actual lawyer, a person who knows the law, if Christmas caroling is illegal.”
“You do need a permit in some places, yes—”
“A-ha!”
“—but this is not one of them. Your annoying neighbor is free to Christmas carol to his heart’s content.”
A groan escapes you, and you pull your phone away from your face to check the date. December 11th. Just two more weeks, and then you’re free for an entire year. Surely you can make it two weeks, right? A fortnight. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty-six hours. Once you’re past the holiday and things cool off, maybe you’ll borrow a play from your normal neighbor’s book and drop off please stop harassing me with your Christmas carols cookies.
You’re halfway to deciding which flavor (M&M, because they can kind of look like miniature carolers if you squint, or oatmeal raisin because they’re disgusting and you want him to suffer a little) when the troupe starts on a new song. A louder one. Enough of a volume change that even Seokjin can hear it, and he starts doing that honking windshield wiper laugh at your expense.
Fuck cookies. You should really burn his house down instead.
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Big cities aren’t actually all that big.
Your mother says she’s finally sick of cooking, so you’ve been tasked with bringing side dishes to Christmas dinner this year. Which is fine. Learning how to cook for yourself had been relatively easy, to the point you’d run a Learn to Cook 101 weekly lesson at your on-campus apartment for all your hopeless friends. And hopeless friends of friends. In return, they taught you how to roll joints and do keg stands, so it’d been a worthy trade-off.
Still.
Your parents are woefully behind on current food trends, so your comment about bringing a sushi bake as an appetizer had been met with incredulous silence. Sushi isn’t high on your parents’ takeout list, and after you’d taken them to the nice hibachi restaurant in town and your father ate his California roll with a fork, you’d been too embarrassed to try again.
Anyway—the point is: big cities aren’t that big, because you’re standing in the seafood section of the largest supermarket within fifteen square miles, and everything promptly goes to shit.
“Hey, do you know if they ha—oh, shit, hey! You’re my neighbor!”
You squeeze your eyes shut. Do a really good impression of that meme gif of the guy blinking. Because this can’t be happening. You specifically go to this supermarket because it’s not the one around the corner from your house and also isn’t the one closest to your office. No one was supposed to be able to find you here, yet here’s your caroling neighbor, bundled up tight with a beanie shoved over his head, tips of his ears folded over so he looks like a little elf. It’s sick.
But you’re a professional, if nothing else (you’d argue mature, but can concede that hiding in your own home with the lights turned off to avoid the man grinning at you is not very girl-boss of you), so you offer him a tight-lipped smile. “Hi. I am your neighbor, yes. Hello.”
“Wow, what a coincidence, huh?” He laughs, and it sounds like Christmas bells. Who in the fuck is this guy? No, really, who is he? You can’t remember his name for the life of you. “You… have no idea who I am, do you?”
It’s the way his face falls further with each word. Makes you feel guilty and awful, and it’s a terrible feeling. Has you wanting to say things like no, of course I know who you are and drop his name, his parents’ names, ask him about that work thing, that person he’d mentioned he was seeing in passing. But you know none of these things, so you just suck in a breath and say the first thing that comes to mind, which is: “Of course I know who you are.” You feel your eyes narrow. “You’re my annoying caroler neighbor.”
That was… not what you were going for. You should apologize, try to find some way to salvage this, because you’re only here for salmon and imitation crab and now you’ve dug yourself a hole that’ll ensure your great-great-grandchildren are still feuding.
But he just laughs. Snaps his fingers and points at you in a way that’s jokingly serious as he says, “I knew it! I knew you’ve been home this whole time!”
Suddenly you aren’t feeling so apologetic anymore. “And you’ve persisted? Did you ever stop to think I didn’t want to be bothered?”
The answer to your question is no, judging by the look on his face. All-knowing you are not, so you’re not going to waste time decoding it when all you came here for was salmon and imitation crab. You really should’ve gone to the Asian supermarket instead, because a place like this is highly unlikely to have furikake, anyway, and you could’ve avoided this entire mess. Now you’re engaged in an awkward stare-off with your neighbor, and the two of you are going to part ways and still have to live next to one another.
“Oh, I—”
The butcher calls your number. You should’ve bought the prepackaged stuff in the freezer, but no, you had to be bougie and difficult. “It’s fine,” you say, holding your hand up. Just the imitation crab left now, you can do this. “Happy holidays. Please leave me alone.”
You are never making sushi bake again.
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On a normal evening, the caroling would start just after seven.
This explains why you’re currently lying in bed, the only light from the television (Taehyung be damned, you are watching Home Alone), full of nervous jitters as the clock on your phone tells you it’s just turned 6:59.
Is your neighbor the vengeful type? Will you finally be granted reprieve now that you’ve had an embarrassing supermarket encounter, or will he tell his caroling troupe to sing as loud as possible to provoke you further? You shake your head. Sure, you’d only talked to him for three minutes, but his ears were folded over, for fuck’s sake—maybe you’re naive, but someone with folded-over ears doesn’t strike you as particularly malicious.
No, no, it’s going to be fine; you’re certain of it. You’ll deal with the embarrassment later.
Except ten minutes pass with… nothing. No muted singing, no perfectly-pitched renditions of Oh Holy Night (which you’ll admit was actually enjoyable), no hushed giggles when someone inevitably sang the wrong word. There’s just silence, and it’s exactly what you’d asked for, but it still feels off-putting after suffering through the opposite for so long. Instead, your doorbell rings at half-past, and this is it, you think, my neighbor’s going to be out there with a bomb.
Unsurprisingly, it’s not a bomb. There’s nothing on your front steps except a little gift basket—homemade, judging from the wrap job. A peek through the clear cellophane tells you there’s a bottle of wine and some cookies in there, and there’s a note card stapled to the front that tells you it’s from your neighbor.
Sorry about the noise. Didn’t mean to bother you. Hope this makes up for it. — Hoseok
You grumble all the way back to your bedroom, only a brief pit stop in the kitchen for a wine glass. Homemade or not, Hoseok had spared no expense on the cookies: double chocolate chip, salted caramel, snickerdoodle, little spritz trees topped with nonpareils. You grumble again as you pluck out a gingerbread man. To your dismay, it’s delicious.
You overpour the wine—red, which’ll give you a headache, but you’re past the point of caring. There’d been a little bow tied around the stem. It’s horribly endearing and gives you a stomach cramp. On the screen, Marv takes an iron to the face. This feels a little like that.
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“You should return the favor,” Taehyung suggests. The two of you are back at the same deli. He’s working on some kind of vegetable sandwich this time, having abandoned turkey after his last one had been such a mess. “It’s the polite thing to do. Squash the beef.”
You wait a second. One, two, thr—“Ha, squash!” He picks something yellow off his bread. “Get it?”
“Yep.”
He sighs, underwhelmed by your reaction. “You catch Home Alone last night?”
“I did, actually.”
“Cool.” He heaves another sigh, slumps further back in the booth. “God, this time of year is so boring. Work is dead, your neighbor ended your one-sided caroling turf war, and Tim Allen is a shitty conservative, so I can’t even enjoy The Santa Clause anymore.”
You can’t help yourself: “Didn’t you just say the other day that you loved that guy?”
“Tim Allen?” Taehyung looks confused. Also looks a little concerned, like there’d be something severely wrong with him if he had said that, but then he comes to. Glares. “I said Tim Curry! Tim Curry. You know, Dr. Frank-N-Furter? The guy from Clue? Ew, don’t you dare confuse them ever again!”
It should be a crime, how easy it is to provoke him. He’s off on a tirade before you have a chance to tell him you were fucking around, and by the time you’re back at your desk you’re absolutely certain you could write a biography on the guy.
Taehyung had been right about one thing, though: there’s absolutely nothing going on. Everyone has collectively abandoned the illusion of working and aren’t likely to pick it back up until after the new year, so you’ve got nothing to do but scroll endlessly on the internet and spin in your chair until you feel sick.
Maybe you’ll resume the turf war just for something to do.
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“Your father says not to bother with the sushi bake,” your mother says. “He thinks it’s too weird.”
Your jaw drops, eyes glancing at the pile of ingredients on your counter. What are you gonna do with all this stuff? How long does imitation crab stay good for? “Are you serious?” A distracted hum comes through the phone. “What am I supposed to do with all these ingredients, then? Can’t he just suck it up?”
She tuts. Years of putting up with and accommodating your father’s pathetic palate tells you she’s probably on your side, but she’s not going to admit it. “I don’t know, honey. It’s the holidays. Can’t you bring it into work?”
“Mom.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Do you know what happens to people who bring fish into the office?”
“Well, I don’t know! Give some to your friends! Have leftovers!”
None of your friends want a sushi bake. You don’t even have to ask. They’d accept it out of politeness only, but you can almost guarantee it’ll either get tossed or brought along to their own holiday parties. Oh, no, I didn’t make this, they’ll say. It’s from a friend, but I wasn’t going to finish it all on my own, so here it is! That’s mortifying and you won’t allow it.
“Didn’t you say your neighbor brought you some cookies? Maybe you can return the favor.”
You’re lucky your mother can’t see you roll your eyes, because what a traitor. Taehyung suggesting the same thing had made sense. He’s never had a sense of loyalty. Wouldn’t know it if it came up and bit him in the ass, but your mother? The same mother that heard your complaints about this same neighbor and commiserated with you? She has one thing, and it’s the audacity.
But you aren’t going to argue with her. “Ah, yeah,” you say, voice laced with faux impression, “great idea. Thanks.”
“Of course, sweetheart. What are moms for?”
Not loyalty, clearly.
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Everything has truly come full circle.
Here you are, standing on Hoseok’s front step, fist raised to knock and embarrass yourself by dropping off a fucking sushi bake. Not cookies or chocolates or anything else that could pass as Christmas fare—sushi bake. May God please strike you down.
You wonder if Hoseok will turn all his lights off and pretend to not be home. It’d be justified, and if it weren’t for the shadows of movement through the curtains, you’d just drop it off and go back home. Surely it’s cold enough outside to keep it fresh until he returned from caroling. But no, here you are, waiting for him to answer the door because sushi bake requires an explanation.
“Oh! Hello, neighbor!”
(God is fair, because you were not struck down to spare potential embarrassment, but you have been spared from the little elf ears again. A blessing. There’s no way you’d survive those again.)
“Hi,” you respond, thrusting the casserole dish in his direction, perfectly playing the role of a person who has never once met another human. “It’s sushi bake.”
Hoseok computes for a moment. “Sushi bake,” he repeats, like he’s learning an entirely new concept. What is it with men and sushi bakes? “Wow, cool, thank you.” He takes it from you with a smile, radiating pure sunshine. “That’s dinner sorted, then! Is this what you were at the grocery store for?”
“Uh, yeah.” You fidget, feeling awkward without anything to hold. What are you supposed to do with your hands now? You shove them in your coat pockets. “I was gonna make it to bring to my parents’ for Christmas dinner, and then my mom called today to tell me not to because my dad thinks it’s too weird, so, well. Here I am. Paying you back for the cookies with the worst food gift of all time.”
“I think it’s pretty great,” he answers, another dazzling smile lighting up his face. “You didn’t have to repay me for the cookies, though. I still feel really bad about the noise.”
“I—it’s fine,” you say. “Um, well. Enjoy… that.” You turn to leave, nearly slipping on a patch of ice and braining yourself on the brick step. “Have a great night.”
You think Hoseok asks if you’re alright, maybe mumbles something about needing to re-salt the steps and he’s sorry about that, too, but you’re down the sidewalk and back in your house before he can finish. Embarrassment warms your cheeks, and you wonder when you became incapable of talking to men. You roast Taehyung on a near-daily basis. Something must be terribly wrong.
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(“Ooh, this is getting spicy,” Taehyung says, foregoing your cubicle wall to park his ass on your desk entirely. “Picture this: Two star-crossed lovers, unable to be together because of the Holy Caroling War. There’s a feud, they become enemies, and then—”
“Don’t you have work to do?”
“No, and don’t interrupt me. Now, where was I?”
“Don’t remember,” you lie, and you resume your task of writing down things Taehyung’s hair reminds you of on sticky notes and adhering them to his body.
Elmo. The uniform jackets of those British guards with the silly hats. The Chicago Bulls mascot. Clifford the Big Red Dog. Cartoon cows. Cinnabar. A crayfish. General Thaddeus Ross aka Red Hulk—
“You’re jealous, I get it,” Taehyung quips, exasperated, as he peels a neon yellow note from his thigh. “Anyway, as I was saying. Are you gonna tell your neighbor you’ve got a big, fat crush on him?”
You don’t bother with a response. Instead, you jot down a giant gaping asshole on another note and stick it to his forehead.)
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It becomes a… thing, after the sushi bake.
Hoseok feels guilty accepting your kindness, so he drops off a container of homemade radish kimchi. You feel guilty he’d done that, so you drop off some soup. This is unacceptable, but on and on it goes until you catch him leaving a vibrant poinsettia on your steps.
“What are you doing?” you ask, and you startle him so badly he topples backwards off your stoop, taking the poinsettia with him. Dirt shoots into the air like a cartoon, and it’s a struggle but you contain your laughter just enough to dart over to where he’s lying in a sad little heap on the concrete. “Jesus, are you alright?”
You extend your hand and he’s a little dazed, but he takes it after a second. “Ow. Yeah, I think I’m okay.”
“Are you sure? It sounded like you hit your head kind of hard.”
He groans. “Think I hit the trashcan on my way down.”
Gross. “Oh. Okay, I’m going to help you up now.” Once he’s upright, you give him a once-over and deem him physically unharmed. You can’t speak for his ego, but you can imagine it’s bruised. “Do you want some hot chocolate or coffee or anything?”
Hoseok shakes his head, which prompts another pained groan. “No, no, I think I’ve been enough of a bother.”
“I insist,” you insist, because you’ve truly lost all common sense. “It’s the least I can do.”
He looks skeptical. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Besides, we can call it even after, right? Your drink of choice for the poinsettia.”
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You learn a lot about Hoseok in the span of an hour.
You learn he’s got a contagious laugh and a smile to match. You learn he’s genuinely kind, which makes you feel like pond scum. You learn that he loved your sushi bake and had even taken a picture of it to send to his mom, who said it looked “very cute,” whatever that means. You learn he’s relatively new to the city and that he works from home, so he’d joined the caroling troupe because he was lonely and wanted to make friends, which makes you feel like whatever’s lower than pond scum.
“Earth scum,” you mutter to yourself, and you say it so quietly Hoseok cocks his head to the side like a confused puppy. “Oh my god.”
You learn his friends call him Hobi and that his family lives in Gwangju, which is why he hasn’t traveled home for the holidays. Couldn’t get the time off, he explains, and says it’s okay because he’s going for his birthday in February. Your girlfriends (of which Taehyung is one) would warn you off an Aquarius man, but you take one look at Hoseok’s golden retriever personality and figure he can’t possibly fit the stereotypes.
Whatever. Who are the stars to tell you who is and isn’t the love of your life?
You learn that he knows all the words to Frozen, that he sings all the songs loudly and without shame and that you don’t mind this kind of singing. Not when it’s in your house. Not really when it’s him. And that kind of unabashed joy—Hoseok so unapologetic about who he is—it… does something to you.
Hoseok is kind and endearing and really fucking hot.
So you also learn what it tastes like when you kiss hot chocolate from the corners of his mouth. How it feels to thread your hands in his hair, the noises he makes when you tug. You learn what it feels like when he digs his fingertips into your hips, hauling you into his lap. How serious he becomes, a flipped switch, how that heart-shaped mouth straightens out and his eyes lose that glimmer, all business.
You learn the husk his voice takes on when he urges you closer. How he’s enthusiastic about consent but doesn’t ask for anything, just directs you how he wants you, says, you like it like this, don’t you, baby. You do.
Some horrible Christmas song plays on the television in the background. There’s no condom, not within arm’s reach, so Hoseok gets you off with his mouth. Throws your leg over his shoulder, tells you how good you taste, and you learn how quickly you can come undone in the hands of someone who knows what they’re doing. Then you look down and learn Hoseok’s touching himself, couldn’t wait, he says, and you surprise even yourself when you swat him away and tell him to come in your mouth.
“Oh shit—fuck,” he says, but he’s upright fast, hand still gliding along his slick cock. Salt blooms on your tongue from the precum, but you learn how perfectly he fits in your mouth. You learn he sounds fucking divine when he spills over the edge.
You learn he’s a cuddler, and that you already like him way too much.
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It’s Christmas Eve, and everything’s going to go right this time.
You can smell the success in the air, so winter-crisp it stings the inside of your nose. All of your gifts are wrapped to perfection. The roads are clear. No elevators to get stuck in this year, and last you’d seen your cousin was spending the holidays on the opposite side of the country, far away from you, so you’re feeling good. Got a pep in your step.
And then you lock the door behind you and there’s Hoseok, taking out his trash in a plush robe and reindeer slippers. He’s got light-up antlers on his head, and the butterflies in your stomach turn into more of a swarm. The two of you have kept in touch, sure. Made plans to go on a real date after the holiday chaos died down, but it’d been easy to tamper down those feelings when you didn’t have to see him.
“Hello, neighbor,” he says, and it’s Christmas Eve and he’s clearly got nowhere to be, can’t make it to see his family, and he’s still smiling. It makes your chest ache.
“Hi. What are you doing?”
The smile doesn’t falter at all. “Taking out the trash?”
“But it’s Christmas Eve.”
He laughs. The Christmas bells are back. God, you are so fucked. “Ah, yeah, I suppose it is, huh?”
“You don’t have plans?”
He shrugs. “Nope. Well, nothing besides some spiked eggnog and the Christmas Story marathon.”
That sounds nice, you think. “Oh, that sounds nice,” you say, and then the next words out of your mouth come unbidden: “Do you want to come with me? I’m going to my parents’ for dinner, which probably sounds… uh, rushed. And super weird. But it’s really low-key and they’re really nice, and I feel bad leaving you here by yourself and not inviting you. Don’t feel obligated, though! I just thought—”
“Do I have time to change?”
Dumbstruck, you just nod. Hoseok presses a kiss to your cheek and disappears inside his house, reemerging five minutes later dressed impeccably. Your mother’s going to swoon, and even though she’s not going to see it because she never checks her phone, you send her and your father a warning text. Bringing my neighbor, don’t ask, set up another spot at the table.
Just like you’d thought, your mother is overjoyed. You’ve only ever brought one person home for Christmas and that was back in college. A fling, called off before Valentine’s Day, so she’s been deprived of oohing and ahhing and talking a stranger’s ear off.
Hoseok is polite, a near-perfect guest, and your mother fusses over him while your dad talks about stocks and sports and whatever else. Something about mothers, they’ve always got a pile of emergency gifts stashed somewhere, and while you do the dishes, she dashes off to wrap some just so Hoseok has something to open. A cashmere sweater, a bag of gourmet coffee, some wool socks. This is too much, he insists, but it just makes your mother fuss over him more.
“Wait,” your father says, nearly melted into the couch after eating far too much, “weren’t you gonna bring some sushi thing?” Your jaw drops. Hoseok laughs so hard he’s in tears on the floor. Your mother looks away quickly, guilt clear on her face. A traitor. You’ve always known it.
Christmas has threatened to break you before, but this might be the year it makes you whole.
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as always, thank you for reading! my inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. i’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤
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minecraftbookshelf · 1 year
Text
Wither Rose Alliance In The AU In Which All the Marriages are Arranged
Fwhip and Mythical Sausage are cousins who grew up together and are functionally siblings
Fwhip and GeminiTay are not biologically related but decided they were twins when they were very small and have been family ever since.
Pearl is related to no one and, in fact, is possibly not human at all. Xornoth and Gem are Suspicious. (Sometimes you spend a lot of time wondering if you’re friends with a human queen or a goddess it just be like that)
Xornoth is technically a member in the way that sometimes that one weird quiet kid gets along with one of the friend group of weird loud kids like a house on fire and so they hang out with them even if they don’t really socialize with them.
Xornoth and Pearl are best friends and Xornoth has no idea how this happened and had very little input on the situation.
Joey has become an adjacent member since he and Xornoth started dating.
The core three of the WRA, the Roseblings squad, are the only ones actively in conflict with the Ocean Alliance, which is the primary reason it has never broken out into all out war despite Sausage’s harassment of the Swamp borders. Because while Pearl enjoys a good fight Xornoth doesn’t particularly want to go to war directly after bringing their country out of isolation. And both Xornoth and Gem suspect that Lizzie Vs Pearl would be some kind of natural disaster and so they are very invested in preventing that fight.
(This is where Scott ends up coming into the equation. RIP)
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AU Masterpost
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weirdmarioenemies · 1 year
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Name: SNOW POKEY
Debut: Super Mario 3D World
Usually we do not write the name of the character in all capitals in the beginning of the post. But I am just so excited about Snow Pokey! A few days ago, the little creature in my brain knocked on the door and said, “Hey! Snow Pokey?” And yeah! I have never agreed with something so much!
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Snow Pokey is a perfect design! Literally nothing could make this better. Maybe black dot buttons on the body segments would be cute, but the mouth is already a black dot, so it would make things a little weird! So, Snokey is a snowman Pokey, of course, a concept that lends itself to the body plan BETTER than the original. Big snowballs are made to be stacked! Its body segments have ice spikes, which is perfect, so perfect that it baffles me when those spikes are depicted as just snow. That would not be painful! I have not personally been stabbed by snow, but I do not believe it would be painful or possible. I sincerely apologize if it has ever happened to you.
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Enough rambling about that though! It is time for the best part, Snow Pokey’s darling head and face! It has the cool white-pupiled eyes of regular Pokeys, but instead of their smile, a cute surprised expression, and of course, a carrot nose! The cherry on top of the cutie pie a la mode is the bucket it wears as an off-center hat! The go-to hat for Japanese snowmen, rather than a top hat. It is not only more casual, but more implies it is not exactly a natural creature, but one intentionally created! Who created it? I don’t know, but I will kiss them on the mouth.
Since it is alive, I can only assume there is some Magic involved here. Maybe the bucket granted it life, maybe a wizard did, maybe a Christmas miracle did! Maybe it was a wish made by the carrot, its one organic component. Being made of snow, these can’t be BIOLOGICALLY related to standard Pokeys, but maybe this is snow being inhabited by the soul of a Pokey! A Pokey who always wanted a nose, and is constantly in awe at all the scents the world has to offer!
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Snocchi replaces Pokeys in the snow themes of Super Mario Maker 2, and that means we get to see it in three new styles, for which they made entirely new designs! What a treat! In Super Mario Bros., they wear yellow hard hats, perhaps for protection during a snowball fight, and have a big, cheeky smile! In Super Mario Bros. 3, they now have a red knit cap, which seems counterintuitive for a snow creature, like a sun wearing sunglasses, but it is really all about style. This one has a simple little smile, it’s just happy! Finally, in Super Mario World, Snow Pokey is VERY happy, no doubt because of its new hat! This one has a pompom! I like to think this is the same one from SMB3, but someone very kindly enhanced it. Snow Pokey wanted a pompom hat, but it did love its plain knit hat dearly, and now it gets to have both!
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Snow Pokey appears in the art for December 2017′s LINE calendar, and what a cozy scene this is! Oh, to be so cozy in a warm snow house with some funny friends both inside and outside! Even if it wants to stay cold and you want to stay warm, you are never too far from each other! Also, this one is so small. Baby!
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Finally, good news! There is a toy of Snow Pokey! It is real in our world! It is physically among us! I love Snow Pokey so dearly!
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bullet-clubs-bitch · 8 months
Note
Anyway I can request a part 2 to The Secrets Out? Maybe Y/N ends up pregnant at some point and she has to relinquish her championship and during the duration of her pregnancy LuFisto continues to cause problems for the reader and her little family (consisting of Isla, Christian, and their Unborn child) and it starts causing her problems and Christian helps her in every way that he can?
The Secret's out Pt 2
An: This is already long and I didn't want to make it longer so there will be another part with the LuFisto drama and how Christian helps the reader
Summary: Y/n returns to the ring after her broken nose like she never missed a beat. But everything changes when Y/n unexpectedly becomes pregnant. How will this affect not only her relationship with Christian Cage but her career in AEW?
Word count: 3115
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injury and vomit (I think that’s everything)
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Six weeks had gone by faster than I expected and before I knew it I would make my return just in time for forbidden door. Within those six weeks I was gone many things happened, the drama with LuFisto had pretty much been settled and I was able to bond more with Isla. Christian was home when he could and when he was home the three of us would do ‘family things’. Whether that was going to the zoo, the park or just going out for ice cream. The end of June was soon approaching which meant Isla would soon be on Summer Break. Which also meant ‘Mr. Father of the year’ would bring his spawn to work if he wanted to.
Since I had been spending the majority of 5 weeks with just Isla I wanted to make the last week of our bonding time special before I had to go back to work. She had just finished school so I thought now would be a perfect time for us to go on a little trip just the two of us to celebrate a successful school year. Isla picked on Florida and since I have a home in Ft. Lauderdale I thought it would be a perfect fit. 
Although the trip would only be 3 days since I had to arrive in Chicago on Tuesday to make my return we made the best of it. The first day we arrived we spent at the beach building sand castles, walking on the boardwalk, going shopping in the cute stores by the beach and getting ice cream. By the end of the day we were exhausted, Isla even fell asleep in the car ride home. As much as I wanted to let her sleep she needed to wash off all of the sand. As I carried her from the car to the house I couldn't help the warm feeling I had. I know she is not my biological child but within these past weeks I couldn't help but feel like she was. Earlier today when we were on the beach an old lady came up to me and said how I was a good mother for taking her daughter for a fun beach day. I didn’t even correct her, I just thanked the lady and wished her a good day. From a far glance I guess we could be related. We both had blond hair, Isla had blue eyes while mine were green but you could tell that she was Christian Cage’s daughter. 
The second and third day of the trip also went well. We did lots of shopping, spent time at the pool, went to the park, and the fair just so happened to be in town so of course we had to go. Soon enough I was on a flight to Chicago to make my appearance on Dynamite the week before forbidden door. 
****
Wednesday
Since I had gone straight from Florida to Chicago I had Isla with me. Christian was also at Dynamite so he was excited to show his daughter all around the arena. It felt a bit weird to be back mostly because of the terms I felt on. Leaving with a broken nose and drama only to be welcomed back with smiling faces that were glad to have me back. 
“Good to see ya back friend” said a familiar voice who gave me a hug from behind. When I turned around I noticed that the familiar voice was Willow Nightingale. “Oh Hi Willow!” I told her with a sigh of relief. “You gave me a heart attack” “Sorry” she apologized “Are you still on edge about what happened?” Of course she had to ask that question. The truth was although the ‘gosip’ died down it still had me feeling on edge. The photo of Isla Christian and I walking on the boardwalk of the beach by our house haunting me. I still felt like I was being watched but unsure by who. “I guess you could say that” Willow looked at me with a sympathetic look. “Ya know what It’s fine, I’m fine” that was a lie “ This is the kind of stuff you sign up for” I told her, trying my best to sound un bothered by the situation even though I knew she knew I was lying. 
“Okay, then. You know the plan for tonight?” Willow asked. “Yep, see you soon!” 
I was a bit upset since this storyline would be a bit rushed but the plan for forbidden door was for me to put my ROH women's championship on the line against Willow who currently held the NJPW Strong Women's Championship. Regardless we would put on a great performance, in the meantime I had to get ready for the show. 
***
The time had come, everything was finalized and 10 minutes from now I would make my return. 
“You ready?” Christian asked me “Hopefully, I’m a bit nervous” I told him truthfully “I’m sure you will be fine!” I gave him a smile before mouthing him a thank you for his support during my six weeks off. Just then I felt a tug on my shirt. When I looked I saw Isla holding something behind her back. “Yes” I told her “I made you something” Isla then revealed what she was hiding behind her back, it was a beaded bracelet. “You made this for me! That's so sweet! I am definitely going to wear this tonight!!” As she handed me the bracelet I couldn't help but stop in my tracks as I realized what it said. “Do you like it?” Isla asked me “Yeah…I love it” The bracelet had purple, pink and white heart beads. In the center it had three letter beads that read ‘Mom”. Christian noticed the bracelet and asked Isla what it said. “It says Mom. You are my new Mom right Y/n?” Mom, that was the first time she had ever called me something even close to that before. Unsure what to say I looked at Christian who offered a big smile. “I guess so, you can call me whatever you want okay?” “Okay!” She then gave me a big hug!
*** 
All out 2023
I have been officially back for a few months now and since then I have had 4 successful title defenses. Forbidden Door, Blood and Guts, ROH Death Before Dishonor and All In. All of the matches had gone quite well for the most part. At Death Before Dishonor I took a hard fall on my shoulder and needed to be on some medication. It was nothing a little KT Tape and Phiso couldn't fix. Tonight is All Out in Chicago and I’m currently waiting to see if I am medically cleared. Physically I felt fine but I guess one of the backstage doctors didn’t like the sight of my still bruised shoulder from All In. My opponent at All In was Athena, she was aware of the former injury to my right shoulder so like any good wrestler she used it to her advantage, targeting the shoulder in an attempt to secure the victory. Unfortunately for her it didn’t work and I retained my title. I wasn’t booked for the show tonight, which was fine but I would be accompanying Kris to the ring for her match against Ruby Soho. The outcasts are known for trouble and no way I was going to let them cheat and win. 
“I’m sure everything is going to be fine Y/n” Kris was kind enough to wait with me for the doctor even tho she had a big match tonight “I really hope so Kris, I don’t need another injury”   A few minutes went by and the doctor came out “Ms. Y/l/n” Shit, moment of truth. Kris held my hand as we awaited whatever news lied ahead.
“Your Pregnant” I felt my stomach drop. “What? That has to be some kind of mistake, there is no way I’m pregnant” I yelled at the doctor. “Well Ms. we ran a bunch of tests and your shoulder is fine but according to your blood you are pregnant. It is mandatory we run pregnancy tests through blood with every patient” I looked at Kris who was in shock just like me. “Would you like to know your options?” The doctor asked me. “What am I going to do?” I let out almost in a whisper. How irresponsible is this, the champ getting knocked up during one of the most historical reigns. I didn’t even want to think about what Christians reaction was going to be. “Well Ms. I can tell that this is a shock. I can go through methods of termination if you are interested” The doctor offered handing me a pamphlet. “Y/n, I really think you should talk to Christian before you make any decisions. This is his baby too and he deserves a right to know even if you decide not to keep it” Kris told me. She was right, Christian needed to know and I will tell him at some point. 
The PPV went well, Luchasaurus would retain the TNT championship against Darby Allin and Kris would defeat Ruby Soho to keep her TBS championship. I sat backstage with my friends watching the event trying to have a good time but I couldn't stop thinking about what that doctor told me. I didn’t want to tell Christian never mind my boss but I should have known he would find out about it sooner rather than later. “Y/n, Tony would like to see you in his office” Shit
I walked into the office terrified, how was I going to explain to my boss that his golden goose got knocked up. “Take a seat” I sat nervously 
“So, I spoke with the doctor” I said nothing. Partially because I had no idea what to say and the other part being embarrassed. “Is it true that you are pregnant?” He asked 
“Look Tony, I am really sorry. There must be some kind of mistake, I promise you I am a responsible adult. I feel fine, promise, but they told me that they ran a mandatory pregnancy test with my blood and it came back positive. I really don’t know what to do or say. Only Kris and now you know. I haven’t even told Christian yet.” 
He said nothing, he just wrote something down on a piece of paper. 
“Look, I know this is not an ideal situation for anyone. I’m not going to say anything ok. I’m sure you and I both know that the media is going to have a field day with this one. I think we should continue with the press conference as normal and if anyone asks about your ring status say you are waiting to get cleared. After that you should talk to Christian, see a doctor and we can go from there. We can always say you had to relinquish due to injury” The relationship between Tony and I had always been a bit different than others. I had been in AEW since day one and due to my extremely close relationship with the Elite I even became a producer for AEW along with doing my part to elevate the women's division in any way I can. Tony and I were actually friends so even though I knew him and he knew me he was still my boss and this conversation was uncomfortable on both ends. 
***** *Kris: You have to tell him at some point *Y/n: I know but it’s not the time *Kris: Y/n, If you don’t tell him soon I will just tell him *Y/n: Okay I will geez, not too sure how he will react to being a Father again at 50
The past few days had looked the same, Kris and I texting back and forth. Her trying to encourage me to tell Christian and me being too scared. I had been close on more than one occasion but the words wouldn't come out. I’m pretty sure Christian is starting to catch on too. 
After All Out the two of us went for dinner and when I didn’t have a drink with my meal Christian’s suspension started to grow. “So, what are we drinking tonight? I don’t feel like champagne, we could do a nice red or just grab a bunch of drinks? Vodka soda, that’s your favorite?” How was I about to explain that I would not be drinking, I mean I may or may not have a drinking problem. “Um, I think I’m not going to have a drink tonight” Christian looked at me with a shocked expression “Are you feeling alright? What happened to Y/n?” He said jokingly. I, however, was not laughing. “I’m fine, I just don’t feel like having a drink tonight.” I said a slight edge in my voice that I didn't mean to happen. “Alright then, I’m still getting a bottle of red if you change your mind” 
I knew I had to tell Christian, tomorrow was Dynamite and Tony needed answers. I went to the store and grabbed a few pregnancy tests. I knew I was pregnant but I needed to see it in order to really believe it, it’s one thing for someone to say you are pregnant but another to see a positive test in the flesh. Christian went out to grab a few things so I knew now would be a good time to get it over with. It wasn’t like I had never taken a pregnancy test before, I knew how they worked but I found myself sitting on the bathroom floor reading the instructions carefully to make sure I had done everything correctly. I peed in a cup then let the test soak in the cup for about 30 seconds before leaving it to sit for another 5 minutes to show the result. Those 5 minutes were the longest 5 minutes of my life. I looked at the test and of course it had two lines meaning I was pregnant. Of course I was in denial, so I took three more. I had bought four different kinds, the generic ones with two lines and the fancy digital ones. So far it wasn’t looking so good. Three tests had came back positive. Now I waited for the digital, *3-6 weeks pregnant*. 
This didn’t make sense? If I was at least 3 weeks pregnant that would mean that I wrestled All In pregnant? That match against Athena had been brutal, I got put through a dam table. How could a fetus survive that? I could feel my throat tighten as tears started to fall from my eyes. Just then I threw up. 
Christian’s pov
 I knew something was up the moment Y/n returned from her appointment with the doctor. Kris went with her since I wasn’t able to but I regret not going. Something must have happened because ever since the both of them had been acting weird. In an attempt to lighten whatever happened I offered dinner after the show with Y/n to cheer her up. She was hesitant with how late it would be but gave in. Everyone needs a good drink after a hard day at work so when Y/n declined a drink I was even more suspicious. “You know I have a drinking problem right? I think I should start being more careful on what I put in my body” Yeah something was definitely up. I wouldn't say Y/n had a drinking problem but in the years I’ve known her she has never once declined an offer to get a drink. The next few days had been no different. Isla had been with her Mom so it had just been Y/n and I. Everytime I tried to ask her what happened she would push me away, something that she doesn’t normally do. 
I went out to pick up a few groceries and once I returned I found Y/n sitting on the floor of the master bathroom with tear stained cheeks. I sat next to her and asked “What’s wrong?” nothing “If something happened the other day at work you can tell me you know” I waited, I knew she wanted to say something but was having trouble getting the words out. “You’re going to be mad at me” her words were so quiet it was barely a whisper. “Why would I be mad at you honey?” What would I be mad at? “Don’t yell, I’m sorry. I don’t know how this happened” Y/n had tears in her eyes as she spoke. “I won’t yell, I promise but I need to know what happened so I can help you” I told her carefully 
Just then she got up and handed me four items from the sink before returning to her spot on the floor. She was now fully crying and turned her back to me. It took me a minute to realize what I was holding in my hands. Four pregnancy tests, all different kinds but all were positive. “Are these real?” She turned to face me, mascara now ruined. “Are you mad at me?” I wasn’t mad but I was shocked, but I was also happy. “No sweetheart, I would never be mad at you. Especially over something like this” I gave her a hug to which she returned, burying her head in my chest as she continued to cry. 
I knew what this would mean, Y/n being pregnant would change everything. Although this was a shock I was so happy. We had never talked about having kids, Y/n was still in her prime and I was nearly 50. “What are we going to do?” I wanted Y/n to know that I would support her for whatever she decided. I mean she is making history with her current title reign and at the end of the day this is her body we are talking about. “This is your decision Y/n. I want you to know that I am happy about this but I understand if you don’t want to go through with this.” She looked at me with a sad smile. “Would I be crazy if I said I want to keep it? I still don’t understand how it happened in the first place but the more I think about it, I want to go on this journey with you Christian” I placed a kiss to her temple before saying “Don’t worry, I am going to be here with you for every second of it. We will do this together” 
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