#SOC full form | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

only-lonely-star · 7 months ago

Note

ok so basically. after a particularly rough and unfair rumble with the socs, not only is dallas exhausted and sore but hes acting all soft and clingy. when he showed up at your door all he wanted was for his girl to hold him. but he is a mess and hes covered in dirt, blood and sweat so fem reader suggests that he takes a shower but hes like “im tired…” and she suggests that she gets in to help him (COMPLETELY DOMESTIC NOT IN A FREAKY WAY) and dallas is too tired and touch starved to complain so instead of a cocky remark he agrees and reader basically just helps him clean up and get to bed. is this too much?😭 im sorry if it is!!! u 100% do not have to do it!! but ilysm and thank you!!!❤️❤️❤️

🫧⋆｡˚ Bruised and Bare ˚ ｡⋆ 🫧

Warnings - Slight pain inflicted on Dallas. Mentions of blood and bruises. Showering together. Established relationship between fem!reader and Dallas Winston.

Summary - Dallas comes to you for some comfort after a rough fight with some Soc boys. You offer to join him in a hot shower to relax and unwind :)

Author’s Note - I love you too, Anon, thank you for your request! 😼😼 Let me just say… DAMN IT FEELS GOOD TO BE BACK TO WRITING. The post-meeting-C.-Thomas-Howell depression is so real and hit me so strong. This is a rather short one, I apologize. I fear if I didn’t get to these requests soon enough then I’d procrastinate even more. I have like four WIPs right now, they’ll be out soon y’all. I love you all SO much, enjoy!!!! 🙈🙈

Word Count - 830

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄

The sudden knock on your door hadn’t taken you by surprise as you sauntered towards the tall, wooden frame. It was late. Visitors at this hour usually resulted in your rebellious boyfriend, Dallas, looking for a safe haven to spend the night at. It was no surprise when you pulled the doorknob and saw Dallas with a look of defeat and exhaustion in his eyes.

He was hunched over, his shoulders slouched to a new level of low. The boy’s eyes revealed he had endured a tough night already, but the scattered bruises in shades of red and purple told you the full story. “Come on and let me in, just let me cool off for a minute,” he pleaded, his eyes lifeless.

“Oh, Dallas, you went looking for trouble again, didn’t you?” you spoke with playful sarcasm, pulling him inside by the stretched-out collar of his tee.

As Dallas stumbled inside, his boots left footprints of mud across the welcome mat. “No, actually,” he retorted with equal sarcasm, “I took a few blows from them Soc guys we saw that day in the park. I thought I could take three, but hell- I guess not.” Dallas glanced down at his raggedy shirt, one that couldn’t be saved now that it was ripped and torn in just about every place imaginable.

Frowning, you extended a hand to cup his cheek. He looked absolutely defeated - a rare sighting for such a well-known fighter. He didn’t budge at the gentle touch, instead, he stepped forward and snaked his hands to rest on your hips idly. “I’m sorry, baby, c’mere,” you beckoned, gently stroking your thumb across his cheek.

Dallas obeyed, closing the distance between the two of you. He rested his chin on your shoulder, allowing his hand to press yours firmly against his cheek. His lips formed into a small pout. “It hurts, baby. Everywhere. We can just have an easy night and uh…chill in bed, how ‘bout that?”

You grimaced, pulling away slightly. “You ought to shower first, Dal, you ain’t staining my sheets with all that blood… and dirt…and whatever the hell that is,” you pointed to a smear of bright green across his white tee.

The groan Dallas let out was something else. He slouched further and shook your hips vigorously. “Come onnnn, I’m tired. I can’t- I can’t get a hug from my girl? Is that right? I come crawling to you for a simple hug and I can’t even get that?”

His little sob story wasn’t convincing you for shit. “Dallas, don’t hand me that. I’ll even step in with you, that way all you have to do is stand there.”

He shrugged. This was a win-win. He didn’t have to do a thing and on top of that, he got to spend time with you. “Thank you,” Dallas replied sincerely. You could tell right away he meant it, he needed this gentle form of care.

_________________________________________________

As you twisted the knob to adjust the water’s temperature, Dallas analyzed the markings on his cheekbones and under-eye area. His lip seemed to be busted up pretty well, along with a dark purple rim around his left cheekbone. He grinned, “Looks good, don’t it?”

Scoffing playfully, you ushered him closer, “Just get in.” Dallas slowly but surely trudged his way into the tub, standing under the shower head. With another twist, the hot water splashed down from the nozzle, running down his bruised back. His eyes shut instinctively as he felt around the air in front of him for your body. Following him inside, you grabbed the spare white washcloth which hung from the rack located just across the sink. You enclosed yourself inside as you pulled the shower curtain shut.

“Get my back first?” he requested with a soft smile. The exhaustion written on his face was clear as day, but he maintained a sincere tone when speaking with you.

“Yeah, I got you.” His shoulder blades were tense and stiff. The purple spotting along the more tender parts of his back caused a wince from the both of you. Dallas was tough, he’d never admit he’s truly hurt.

“Careful-,” he hissed with clenched teeth, stiffening as he felt your hand pressing the washcloth onto the sensitive area between his shoulders.

“Does that hurt, baby?” you drew back, hovering the dripping fabric over his body.

Dallas sighed meekly. While most was done to his face, he still had sore spots scattered throughout his entire body. “I’m sore all over darlin’, that’s why I just wanted to lay down.”

Feeling your heart clench out of sympathy, you kissed the tender spots along his spine. The steam emitted from the shower head provided the moist heat needed to soothe his aching body, much like your love for him. He found himself able to relax and wind down in the solace of your presence. Who would have thought that even Dallas Winston needed some tender love and care after all?

THANK YOU FOR READING!! YOU ARE THE BEST! ❤️‍🩹

602 notes · View notes

cozm1xxx · 8 days ago

Text

⟢ ꒰ ⋮「 My little dove, why do you cry? 」 ⸝⸝

“It feels as though her whole world has come down around her. Her brother hates her, she’s lying motionless on cold pavement, and she might not see tomorrow morning. But, even then, in her darkest of moments, there may be light.”

Warnings ~ canon-typical violence, Socs being perverted, cursing, mild implications of SA, mentions of sh, mental health struggles

･ ⟢ ⋮ a/n: guess who’s making this an au!! Calling the reader “soft!reader” (cus it’s all I could think of…) will be basing her off of me😓 also i wont be posting for the next few days since I’ll be on a school trip 💔

w/c ~ 1600+

──── ₊˚⊹ ♰ ⊹˚₊ ────

You run.

You run as fast as you can.

Your lungs burn like a sinner in church by the time you’re across town. You pause to catch your breath, chest heaving as you lean against your throbbing knees.

The tears in your eyes threaten to fall. But you don’t let them. You’ll never let them ever again. You glance up, taking in your surroundings as you catch your breath. Big houses with white picket fences, fancy architecture, all looking the exact same aside from color surround you on every side.

You realize you’re in Soc territory a moment too late.

“Well, look what we have here.” A cocky voice drawls, several sets of footsteps echoing behind you.

Your head whips around, and you’re met with three faces you’ll never forget. Three boys, clearly Socs by their shiny hair and madras shirts, all with shit-eating grins on their faces.

One is blonde, with deep brown eyes and a sharp nose. One is brunette, with a chipped tooth he seems to wear proudly. The final one – the leader – has black hair, with blue eyes that are forever etched into your brain. Your voice fails you.

“Such a pretty little thing, and all alone, too.” The one with black hair murmurs, stepping up to you. Close. Too close. He twirls a piece of your hair in his finger, his smirk cruel.

You can’t speak. You can’t move. Your heart sits in your aching throat, words not wanting to leave your mouth. Your legs fail you when you need them the very most. You want to pull away but you can’t.

“What, cat got your tongue?” It’s the blonde one this time, taking a step too close; so close you can practically feel his beer-tainted breath on your face.

“Bet she’s amazing with her tongue...” The brunette one eyes you up and down, his gaze so full of malice and lust that it sets your head spinning.

“You wanna test that theory?” His buddy adds.

The moment you manage to take a step back, they’re acting.

───〃★

You feel like you’ve been through hell. And in a way, you have.

Bruises kiss every inch of your body, proof of the act that had stolen any innocence you had left, leaving you more broken than any knife ever has.

You can’t move. It hurts too much.

Memories of the vile things they had done to you linger vividly in your mind. Hands grabbing, legs kicking, fingers pinching. It’s all so fresh. Your chest burns with every attempt at taking a breath, ribs probably bruised. Maybe even broken. You wouldn’t be surprised.

You can still feel the phantom sensation of their hands all over you – leaving marks that may not be visible but hurt as much as a blade slitting open your throat.

It isn't long before your head begins to grow fuzzy and clouded, all the injuries scattered about your body finally catching up to you.

But then there’s a voice. Calling your name. So distant, so soft, it sounds as though it’s underwater. But you recognize it. The unique drawl, different from you and your brothers’ accent. Not southern, but New York.

“Where are ya, sweetheart…? Shit, is that you?!”

Then comes a face.

Dark, messy hair. Brown eyes full of an unusual fear. A sharp jawline set tight with tension.

“Damnit… god fuckin’ damnit…..”

Strong arms wrap around your crumpled form, lifting you with ease. The oddly familiar scent of leather and cigarettes fills your nose. You don’t have the energy to question who it is, where they’re taking you or if they’re even a decent person.

All you can do is lean your head against their chest, eyes fluttering shut. You’re exhausted. So, very exhausted.

“No… no, no, no, doll… dont you fuckin’ give up on me.”

That voice is the last thing you hear before you black out.

───〃★

You awaken with a start.

But the moment you try sitting up, a sharp pain shoots through your entire body, sending you right back into a lying position.

How long has it been? Hours? Days? You don’t know. The only thing even hinting at the time is the darkness outside your bedroom window.

Wait, you’re in your bedroom? How did you get there?

Suddenly, it all comes rushing back.

Darry. The argument. The Socs. Their hands. Their faces. The pain. The voice.

You manage to pull yourself into an upright position, not stopping despite pain blooming throughout your body. A scream threatens to rip itself from your aching throat, but you don’t let it.

Somehow – but not without excruciating pain that brings tears to your eyes – you bring yourself to your feet, hobbling over to your mirror.

Bruises cover nearly your entire body. Your arms, parts of your legs and your torso are wrapped in bandages. You can only really vaguely remember what the Socs did to you.

Punches. Kicks. A knife. Hands. So, so many hands.

It brings even more tears to your eyes.

For several minutes, you just stand there, ears ringing as you recall everything that took place. But then you register the voices outside your room.

“Do you know what happened to her?” It’s Soda, a concerned edge to his typically playful voice.

“She was clearly jumped, dumbass! What makes you think I know exactly what happened??” It’s that voice again. The one you heard after you got jumped. And now, you know who it belongs to.

The infamous greaser – known for picking fights with Socs and stealing so much it’s like breathing for him – Dallas Winston.

Dallas Winston is the one who brought you home.

“Well, the good news is that she’s alive and safe.” Another voice pipes up.

Darry.

Oh, god, Darry.

You remember the fight; the very thing that caused this to happen. Looking back, it was over something so trivial. Why couldn’t you just be grateful for what you have?

Slowly, you waddle over to your door, feeling like a newborn fawn who doesn’t know how to use her legs yet. With trembling hands, you open your door, wincing at the creak that echoes throughout the tense atmosphere of the hallway.

Immediately, several heads are turning towards you.

Concern is etched into their features, but none of them make any sort of movement. However, the first person that does act isn’t Soda or Pony or even Darry, but Dally.

He walks right over to you, his face – usually full of mischief and cockiness – now holds nothing but fear.

“Hey, doll… You doin’ alright?” He says, his voice lower than normal. But not soft. More like he wants to be gentle but is too prideful to, which is probably more or less the truth.

Darry stares at him like he’s crazy, but doesn't stop him.

“I-I– I’m f– fine.” You stutter, feeling nothing but small. Weak. Fragile. And maybe that’s what you truly are, but it isn't what you want to be.

Dally stares down at you, gaze unable to fully fix on you for more than a couple seconds at a time. Like he’s terrified of the prospect of looking at you. Finally, he opens his mouth to speak again, but he’s shoved aside before he can.

Darry takes his place, and for a moment, you think he’s going to yell at you. To berate you for getting yourself into this mess by being a brat. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he wraps his arms around your entire torso, hugging you against his chest.

At first, you’re stiff. Scared. Feeling like a scared little cat in a moment where you should feel safe. Until you hear him sob. Then, you’re melting against him – though, collapsing seems like a better word – and letting out your own cries into his warm chest.

“I-I’m so-sorry, D-Da– Darry-” You choke out, trembling hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt. His large hand, calloused from hard work, smooths over your hair. Tenderly, like he would when you were ten, when he used to read to you at night and check under your bed for monsters.

“Don’t. God, please don’t apologize.” He gasps into your hair.

Several long minutes of crying and hugging pass before he draws back, hands coming to rest on your shoulders. He leans down to your level.

“I’m sorry. For everything. For– for makin’ you feel like this. Like you're an outcast in your own home. I’m so, so sorry…”

His apology only makes you cry harder. You sob into his collar, arms struggling to wrap fully around him. He kisses the top of your head, an act full of a tenderness you haven’t experienced in far too long.

───〃★

After that, it was all about the small things.

In the immediate month after the incident, it was clear the things those Socs did to you had a massive affect on your already deteriorating mental wellbeing. Small movements made you flinch. You had nightmares. If anyone but Darry – or Dally – touched you, you’d jerk away and get a terrified look in your eye.

But progress was made, too.

Nobody questioned why you clung to Dally’s side. Nobody questioned why those Socs randomly disappeared under the notion that “they needed a fresh start.” Nobody questioned why, that same night, Dallas came to the house with bloody fists.

However, as time went on, things got better.

Darry bought you that skirt. He let you go out. He let you go see that Marilyn Monroe movie that didn’t show until ten. He started treating you like a part of his family, showing you the love he should have expressed much, much too long before.

The scars left on you – both mentally and physically – would linger until long after that fateful night. But with the constant support of your family, you learned to accept that.

You learned to belong.

──── ₊˚⊹ ♰ ⊹˚₊ ────

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #soft!curtissister!reader #darry curtis #darry the outsiders #sodapop curtis #sodapop the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #ponyboy the outsiders #dallas winston #dallas winston the outsiders #dallas winston x reader #Dallas Winston x soft!curtissister!reader #johnny cade #johnny cade the outsiders #steve randle #steve randle the outsiders #two bit mathews #two bit the outsiders

120 notes · View notes

she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 11 months ago

Text

Back on my analysis nonsense but not quite awake enough to write a full essay right now so please enjoy this snippet of analysis about Inej, language, and the word “girl”. It’s all stuff I’ve talked about before but I haven’t given it’s own post before and I’ve been rereading some of my old stuff to get back in the mindset so I thought I’d bring this back up because I find it really interesting - I’m also really hoping to write the post about Fruszi that I’ve been planning on doing for basically since season 2 came out tomorrow or at least very soon so hopefully that won’t be too long

Inej Ghafa, Language, and the Word “Girl”

⚠️As always in my analyses, constant spoilers ahead!! 🖤

⚠️I’m going to talk about Inej’s trauma and her ptsd, and this post will also possibly include references to the other characters’ trauma and ptsd as well

Hi okay it’s been a while since we did this and I realise it’s probably the reason most of you follow me so sorry about that but let’s jump right in - I often say it’s after midnight and I’m thinking about Soc so let’s talk but today I actually have to say it’s almost midnight and I’m thinking about Six of Crows, so let’s talk: Inej’s internalised misunderstanding of the Kerch word for “girl”.

In the Bathroom Scene during Crooked Kingdom (which I have a full analysis posted of if anyone would like to read it; I can tag you or you can follow the link in my pinned post), we see Inej at the point she allows herself to be most vulnerable with another character. I think we forget this because we know much more about it than they do, but the other Crows know very little about what Inej went through at the Menagerie - Kaz himself in that very scene describes having “the barest inkling of what she’d endured there” - and previously when we’ve learnt anything about her experiences they have mostly been through flashbacks that Inej experienced during other events of the book. On the boat to Fjerda, in the surgeon’s cabin with Nina, Inej battles with flashbacks and insists Nina sing to her and teach her the chorus of the song to try and distract herself - Nina of course knows that something is going on, but only the reader is actually told what’s happening in Inej’s head - and when she has a flashback at Sweet Reef (the man who smelled of vanilla) she’s alone until Dunyasha arrives. This scene with Kaz is really the only time we see her express herself and, as openly as she can, attempt to speak about some extent of what she went through out loud. I’ve dissected a lot of what she says in this scene in the past and formed theories about it before, but I haven’t talked as much about this quote:

“Tante Heleen wasn’t always cruel”

After this introduction she goes on to explain the emotional abuse and manipulation that Heleen put her through, going so far as to specify that because endearment became something akin to danger she flinched the first time Nina hugged her, and she also mentions in the scene that sometimes when Jesper puts his arm around her she feels like she’s going to vanish. This particular description of Heleen has very strong parallels to descriptions of Van Eck’s abuse of Wylan, and though I don’t want to go into that in too much detail now bc I’ve talked about it before and how their parallels are what create a lot of the Wylan/Inej parallels I do think that it’s a relevant thing to mention as I bridge into the next quote I want to bring up; when Van Eck takes Inej captive and is claiming that he has treated her like this because this is what he know her to expect from her life experiences, she internally comments that he sounds like Heleen and we get a memory of this quote:

“Why do you make me do these things? You bring these punishments on yourself, girl”.

This obviously had very strong links to the way Van Eck abuses Wylan and teaches him to actively blame himself, which I’ve talked about in the last, but I also want to add that it’s so interesting when we see Heleen call Inej “girl” because she very rarely uses terms that don’t actively dehumanise her/any of the other children at the Menagerie. Of course the use of the epithet is still a big part of the way Inej was denied identity at the Menagerie, remember she audibly sobbed when Kaz said her real name out loud the night she left, but it doesn’t necessarily hold the same immediate, discomforting effect that other epithets Heleen uses, such as “little Lynx” (actively diminishing and dehumanising Inej whilst using an oxymoronic phrase to effectively imply that she is a tamed animal and even though she should be able to fight free she never will. As a side note linked to this, the word “little” is often used derogatorily towards Inej, most obviously by Heleen and Van Eck and most notably when she breaks his nose and he shouts “you little wretch! You little whore!” and she replies “go on Van Eck, tell me all the little things I am”). But I would actually argue that when Heleen uses the word “girl”, she intends it with all the same dehumanisation as she does “Lynx”.

Throughout Inej’s experiences in the duology, the word “girl” is used almost exclusively in two ways: 1) as an insult, 2) possessively. Whenever the children at the Menagerie are referred to as “girls” it is always in a possessive context, for example these quotes are the Ice Court Heist when Inej is wearing the Lynx silks:

“… in front of her girls”

“Your girl will be returned to you”

“Where is my girl?”

“That is not my girl”

And this is an ongoing theme throughout the books. However, the idea is most obviously presented in a quote by Inej herself, and this is where it quite truly breaks my heart:

“not really people, not even really girls.”

Okay I'm really tired and this post is already longer than I was planning so from this point forth everything in the quotation marks is directly taken from another post where I talked more briefly about this:

' As if “girls” and “people” are two separate entities. As if “girls” are not human. This is the language and the attitude that she was surrounded by at the Menagerie and is still surrounded by in the city, and what was forced upon her throughout her experiences in the country. But you know what else might be a genuinely horrifying little detail of this????? Inej may have actually taught herself that the words “people” and “girls” are not synonymous. Because when Inej was brought to Kerch she wasn’t fluent in the language, she spoke some of it and quickly learnt the rest through circumstance, so if this was the way she heard Kerch people use the word “girl” this is how she would internalise the definition of it. I hope this makes sense I’m not sure if I’m relating my thoughts very clearly, it’s kind of like how Matthias was forced to learn Kerch because he was in a Kerch prison so he doesn’t know words that would easily come to him in Fjerdan, like the snow goggles, but instead of simply having gaps Inej has actually learnt a false grammar system that defines “girl” as a dehumanising term because it means someone who is less than or someone who is property. '

I feel like I might have had something to add but if I did then I have forgotten it; if it return to me in the morning then I will return to add it but for now I am going to bid you all goodnight. Thank you for reading these mad ramblings and I hope they made some semblance of sense and/or were interesting <33

⚠️This is a theory and this is my personal literary interpretation; I am not saying that this is an intentional choice made by Leigh Bardugo, though it may be I have no idea, and I am not saying that you have to agree with me. Literary analysis is not about presenting one definitive answer, and if you have either differing interpretations or further points you’d like to add then please do as I would love to read them! <3

130 notes · View notes

cactus-cuddler · 11 months ago

Text

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

Series' masterlist | previous chapter

Word count: 958

Warnings: Bucky with children!!!

Tag list: @mcira @robynanthonystark @sofiaavarga13 @fanfictionreaderfan @julvrs

You and Bucky decided to start a new chapter together in a small town, not too far from where you first met. You understood that city life wasn’t ideal for him, so you suggested moving somewhere quieter, where the watchful eyes of others wouldn’t reach him.

“Are you sure you want to leave just for me?” he asks over the phone as you pack up your things.

“Yes, Buck, I want this,” you insist. While he’s hesitant about you leaving your hometown, you’re determined to uproot and begin a new life by his side.

You quit your job at the bar the night before, explaining to your coworkers that you were moving in with Bucky. Though you hadn’t expected it, you realized you’d miss the job, especially the friendships you’d formed, like the one with Megan. It’s true what they say: you often don’t realize how much something means to you until it’s time to leave it behind.

Bucky had already quit his job months earlier, feeling that his presence was no longer needed. The customers had become attached to you, and the bar had transformed into a safe haven, attracting a friendlier crowd. It became a place of comfort, where people came to unwind with friends. Your boss even redecorated, reflecting the warm atmosphere the bar had developed, and changed those awful uniforms. You couldn’t help but feel that Bucky’s presence, despite his troubled past, had turned the bar into his own sanctuary, with you as the center of his attention.

When the last box is loaded onto the moving truck, you grab your purse and head towards Bucky's motorcycle. He had kept it a secret for a while, not wanting to risk shortening your time together by driving you home on it. The first time he took you for a ride, you were terrified, clinging tightly to his waist while he laughed at your fear.

"You know I'll never let you fall," he had shouted over the roar of the engine, laughing as your grip tightened.

"I trust you—it's the bike I don't trust!" you had yelled back, clinging to him during your second date, which ended on a much more satisfying note, literally.

Now, you feel more at ease on the bike, even starting to enjoy the rush of air that brushes against your face as you press close to him. When you arrive at your new home, the moving men are already unloading the boxes. It’s just how you always imagined it—a place where you can decorate and build your life together.

As you carry boxes into the bedroom, Bucky finishes putting away his tools in the garage. He comes up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist.

“It’s wonderful to see you every day,” he whispers in your ear, making you giggle as his touch tickles you.

“We already saw each other every day,” you reply, melting into his embrace.

“Not like this,” he says with a smile. “Come on, let’s check out the town.” He takes your hand, leading you out of the house with boxes still waiting to be unpacked.

You stroll through the neighborhood, hand in hand, as your new neighbors greet you with warm smiles.

“Are you the new residents?” they ask, and you respond with a shy nod. Everyone seems so friendly here. This place feels perfect—a fresh start for Bucky, far from his past, and a new beginning for the two of you together.

As you explore, you notice there are only a few shops, but they’re all charming, with everything you need. A small but well-stocked bookstore catches your eye, and there are enough grocery stores for all your essentials.

During your walk, you come across a park full of children playing happily. A ball rolls toward Bucky, and he kicks it back a little too hard, sending it flying. The kids, amazed, run over to him.

“Where did you learn to kick like that?”

“Did a bad dog eat your arm?”

“Can I be that strong too?”

“Please teach us!”

You laugh and leave Bucky to his new friends, watching as he joins them on the soccer field, playing goalie because none of the kids wanted to. You watch with a smile as some of the neighborhood women approach you.

“Sorry they kidnapped your husband,” one of them says with a grin.

“Husband? Oh, Bucky!” you chuckle and smile at her.

“No problem, it’s nice to see him so carefree,” you reply, enjoying the pleasant company as she shows you photos of her twin children. They’re adorable, and you can’t help but imagine a mini version of Bucky.

Watching Bucky play with the children warms your heart. He’s so gentle with them, making them laugh and feel safe. After an hour, the kids are reluctantly called back by their mothers. You’ve already spotted a few who seem to judge Bucky for being “childish,” but you hold back. Teaching kids about kindness is more important to you than responding to criticism.

“I’m exhausted!” Bucky complains with a grin as he walks back to you.

“I’ve always preferred daughters,” he admits as he rests his head on your shoulder.

“Why?”

“Less soccer, more tea parties and saving them from pillow fort dragons,” he replies, making you both laugh.

“See you tomorrow, Bunny!” a kid calls out, and Bucky waves back.

“Bunny?” you laugh.

“He can’t say Bucky,” he snorts.

Back home, you snuggle up on the couch together, Bucky falling asleep almost instantly while you stay awake, gently stroking his hair. Watching his peaceful face, a faint smile on his lips, you know that your life together will be wonderful. Maybe, one day, this house will be filled with the sounds of happy, noisy children.

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝒹

Series' masterlist | previous chapter

86 notes · View notes

jccatstudios · 1 year ago

Note

hey i just wanted to say i just finished reading thru chapter 2 of your soc adaptation and it's absolutely fantastic?? the characters look almost exactly how i picture them and its so cool to see all of my favourite jokes and lines in comic form. the lighting is fantastic as well, even in just black and white— it really helps to covey the mood of the story, especially when kaz is posturing dramatically (lol). i can't wait to read more and thank you so so much for making this, and sharing it with all of us!!! you clearly really love these books and it absolutely bleeds through into your work— i can't wait to see more! thank you so much <3

Thank you!!! I do absolutely love this book series so much. So many favorite scenes, so many comics yet to make... We're now halfway done with Chapter 3. Isn't that wild? It might even run a little bit shorter than the 56 pages I planned out since I've been doing some thumbnail edits along the way.

I don't think I ever shared this one here. Coming very close to getting a Nina face design I like. I like this one too, but I think this new one has more character. Probably will blend them together or something. This hair texture/fullness really suits what I initially imagined for her in Chapter 5. She'll have more specific jewelry later. I wish I made her look more confident in this doodle, but she can be quite melancholic at times.

#thank you all for your kindness every update :)#sketches #soc comic adaptation #asks

98 notes · View notes

averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year ago

Text

The Old Therebefore 🐍🕊️ | A Six of Crows Imagine

Takes place after the events of S&B S2

My masterlists | Part 2

Characters & Pairings: gang leader!reader x Crows (platonic). Kaz Brekker x reader (slight tension)

content warnings: profanity, mentions of violence and death, typical SOC themes. | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 4k

Premise: it’s not often Kaz Brekker needs assistance to a job involving anyone other than his Crows. Yet, there is always a first. When a job comes involving not only a high cash prize but also chances of coming out alive slim, Kaz accepts it is out of his skill level. So, what does he do? Take a risk by recruiting his top rival since Pekka Rollins was run out of town….she’s got the charm of a snake with a voice of a songbird.

Note: so as you can tell by the title of the imagine and song linked, I saw the new hunger games movie (back in November) and literally could not stop thinking about this song/scene. Then of course my hyperfixations like to collide and wallah: here is the end result.

Disclaimer as always: the song and lyrics belong to Suzanne collins and all the SOC characters belong to Leigh Bardugo

---------

“You know, Kaz, I know better than to question you on most things,” Jesper scanned his surroundings, voice low with slight concern. “But I can’t help but wonder why you’ve decided to drag us to the ‘Snake Pit’ tonight.” The sharpshooter sipped his glass of rum after a close inspection, “mind telling us.”

Seated around him, Inej, Nina, and Wylan expressions bore the same unease. All on high alert the moment Kaz led them through the doors and down the spiral staircase into the Barrel’s infamous Snake Pit.

Located deep on the opposite side of the Crow Club, the Snake Pit was an underground bar/club. Home of the legendary crime gang, the Blood Serpents. They’d been around since Kaz was 15, their leader to have been the same age as him. Yet the public knew very little of the notorious boss. Only by their code name.

The Snake Charmer

Of course, this information made Kaz lose his mind at times. Unable to identify his anonymous rival who’s bested him on multiple occasions. If the opportunity arose, Kaz would pay any amount of kruge to find out who the Snake Charmer was. It’d been well over a decade. His patience was running thin.

Finally, the wait would pay off in the form of a messenger boy.

Knowing Inej was too recognizable, Kaz sent a young member of the Dregs--who was under the radar to the other gangs--to infiltrate the Snake Pit the week prior. The boy returned hours later to relay a crucial piece of information. Now, Kaz was to test that theory.

Clutching his cane, the crime boss did not spare a glance to his fellow Crows the second they entered the Pit. Even when they took claim to a rounded booth in a far corner by the bar. His attention was occupied. Analyzing the club and its features. Mentally noting the Blood Serpent members, who were identifiable by their red snake tattoos on their hands.

One of which was the bartender that served them drinks. A young woman about their age, she wore a maroon pin-stripped 5 piece suit although the blazer was forgone. The tattoo was on full display. Kaz assessed her lingering on him when she pushed the tray of drinks toward Jesper. Likely recognizing him and by default the rest of the Crows. The bartender didn’t say anything after, only giving a nod before moving to the next customer.

To the other Crows, they thought Kaz’s intense stare on the bartender was either because he thought she was attractive or making note she was just another member of the Serpents. But, what they did not know was Kaz figuring out if she was the Snake Charmer.

“A woman?” he questioned the boy, narrowing his eyes. “You are telling me the Snake Charmer--leader of the Blood Serpents--is a woman and works under the guise of an employee at the Snake Pit. Are you positive?”

The boy nodded profusely, “Yes, Mr. Brekker. I can assure you it was no man singing that song. She sounded like a siren if I must say. She calmed the snakes like it was nothing-- I see why they call her Snake Charmer.”

So a woman was responsible for a lot of Kaz’s failures. Not to mention winning the territory he’d hoped to gain when Pekka was defeated. They’d come to a settled agreement through a middle man. An action that annoyed Kaz. But he knew better than to wage war with the Snake Charmer.

So far the women in the gang he’s managed to identify besides the bartender were two serving girls, a door bouncer, and two poker dealers. A total of six. Of the men, most of them were standing on the walls and mingling along the floor.

Bet she didn’t expect him to enter her den.

The Snake Pit was exactly like what the boy described. Dark wood floors and walls up to the high ceilings. Dangling chandeliers, poker tables, two bars on either side. Booths aligned the walls. The most notable and unique trait, however, was the glass snake enclosure right smack in the middle of the floor. It was cylinder shaped at the bottom, lining the floor to the ceiling where it branched out on either side to resemble a tree. Plants and dirt filled it.

As did ten serpents. Ranging from tiny garden snakes to a python.

Jesper cringed when his eyes landed on it. Wylan looked deathly afraid. Nina found it amusing. Inej thought it was fitting. Kaz was pleased to see it. To him, that was ammunition.

Kaz answered Jesper with one word that told the whole story, “Business.”

“What business could you possibly have with the Snake Charmer?” Inej questioned, hand on her side close to her knives. “Don’t you think we should be discussing the plan?”

“And we are,” Kaz rebutted, leaning into the booth with his gaze set on the enclosure. “We’re here to flush out the Snake Charmer.”

Jesper choked on his drink, meanwhile Nina and Inej looked at Kaz like he was crazy. “You’re fooling us aren’t you?” “Boss, jokes aren’t really your thing--.” “You’re insane, Kaz, if you believe that’ll happen.”

“You see that enclosure?” He cut off their rambling. All responded with a look of, ‘Of course we see the ginormous Snake habitat in the middle of the club full of our enemies.’ Kaz nodded to it, “we need to destroy it.”

Once again, Jesper choked. This time on his saliva. “You’ve lost it,” he ignored the glare from his boss, “Did going through the fold change you, Kaz? Clearly you’re not actually thinking we let loose a dozen snakes,” he leans forward to whisper, “we don’t even know if they’re venomous. If their bites don’t kill us, surely their owner will.”

Analyzing Kaz, Inej lowered her tone, “what are you not telling us, Kaz?”

Giving one last scan of his surroundings, Kaz addressed his Crows with the truth of why he brought them to the Snake Pit. “I have a lead on who the owner of this establishment is.” Their reactions were immediate, Kaz continued. “A week ago I sent a young messenger boy here to scout out the place--find anything that could help identify the Serpents boss. During closing he snuck into one of their storage closets,” Kaz attempted to locate said closet, somewhere behind one of the bars.

Kaz paid close attention to the bartender and the poker dealers. “At some point in the night, one of the snakes got loose. Or,” he turned to Jesper and Inej, “my theory is they use those snakes as a means to get information on people.”

“Great,” Nina sighs, “you want us to free the Serpent's torture method. Well done, Brekker. Excellent plan if I must say.” The heartrender received a glare, but Kaz did not entertain it further.

“As I was saying,” his tone was stern, making the others hold onto any additional comments. “The boy overheard the panic of one of the Serpents. Turns out, the Snake Charmer doesn’t take kindly to her pets being mishandled.”

“I can see why,” Jesper mutters, glancing at the enclosure.

Kaz gripped his cane, watching the female bouncer approach the bartender and exchange words. “He then heard a woman’s voice. Singing.”

Wylan raised a brow, “Singing?”

“Whatever it was, it calmed the snake. Allowed her to return the animal back to its case. The boy said he heard arguing between a couple members who hoped to clean up their mistake before the boss discovered it.” Kaz shifted in his seat, “didn’t end well for them.”

“Did you get a look at her face?” Kaz peered out his office window, facing the direction of the Snake Pit’s location. Moonlight shining down, almost as though the Saints wanted him to see the building. Behind him, he heard the boy clear his throat.

“No, Sir.” He stuttered, tensing at the sight of Kaz lowering his head. “The door didn’t have any cracks or holes I could see through. I tried looking underneath, but only got a glimpse of their shoes.”

Kaz pinched the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. “What happened after she finished singing? How’d you get out?”

“Once the snake was handled, she ordered them to her office. She sounded….calm, but you know how you just know when someone is masking their anger. That’s how it was when she addressed them.” Kaz hummed, indicating he understood the boy’s implication. Considering he was guilty of such.

“And then?”

“I waited a few minutes until I was sure they were gone. The direction they went sounded like it was the far left of the club--opposite side of the spiral staircase that’s both the entrance and exit. I think there's a secret back entrance where they were because when I came out it was completely empty.”

Kaz found the secret back entrance. Camouflaged as a bookcase. He was able to spot the hinges carefully placed to where the light made it difficult to see them. But Kaz Brekker knew the art of illusion in the back of his hand.

“This is what’s going to happen,” he became serious. The Crows lean in to hear him while maintaining their alert. “We need to expose those snakes from their enclosure. They’ll be our bait. From there we wait. If my theory is correct, those snakes only answer to their master. Or charmer in this case.” Kaz paused to locate the female workers in the club. “Her act as an employee is a ruse.”

Jesper followed his gaze, once again becoming riddled with unease. “You’re implying the Snake Charmer is either the bouncer who let us in, the gal who served our drinks, the serving girls working the floor or one of the poker dealers?”

“That’s exactly what I’m implying, Jesper.”

“Why would she do that?”

Nina snorted, sipping at her whiskey, “Isn’t it obvious?” she didn’t wait for an answer, “no one would pay a second glance to a worker. They are either too drunk or too naive to assume the pretty bartender or serving girl is the boss of one of Ketterdam’s deadly gangs.” She gestured to the serving girl closest to her. “My money’s on her being the Charmer.”

Jesper scoffed, “no way. To be a ghost and retain anonymity all these years you have to have a great poker face.” He states the obvious, “it’s one of the dealers.”

Inej rolled her eyes, “are you seriously making this a competition?”

“You don’t think it could be the bouncer?” Wylan asked, scratching the back of his neck to relax the tension he felt.

“No,” Jesper replied with a wave of a hand, “that would be obvious, don’t you think? Although….,” he rubs his chin, “considering they let us in -- and we know how much you and the Snake Charmer have been rivals so to speak all these years, boss -- you don’t think by letting us through that we walked into some sort of trap?”

Inej immediately straightened, “Jes has a point.” Nina stopped munching on her calamari, waiting for Kaz. She too realized the potential threat.

Kaz, however, remained relaxed. “It’s not the bouncer, but I know the Charmer has already been notified of our presence.” Wylan’s worry intensified.

“What makes you think that?”

“As we’ve been talking I noticed all the women working the club have interacted at some point. Some making it obvious to point us out,” He was referring to the bouncer nodding her head to the one serving girl. “Others are more discreet.” That was to the poker dealer and bartender.

“And yet,” Jesper groans. “You still want us to make a scene. We are literally in a place crawling with snakes--pun not really intended.” the table rolled his eyes at him, save for Wylan who found the joke amusing. “Point is….you want to unleash the Snake Charmer’s serpents into a club full of innocent people--.”

“Innocent,” Nina scoffed under her breath.

“What if one of us gets bitten?” Jesper kept his gaze on Kaz with mild concern. “I don’t believe for a second the Snake Charmer will kindly hand over the antidote to save our lives. She’ll take pleasure in watching us suffer a horrible death.” Picturing the scene, the sharpshooter downs the rest of his drink, cringing in the process. “Saints, this is not how I pictured I’d die.”

Kaz rolled his eyes, “No one’s dying today. No mourners.” Everyone glanced at each other.

“No funerals.”

“Right then,” It was time to work. “Here’s what we’ll do….”

A prayer slipped past his lips before Jesper inhaled deeply and let the bullet fly. The sound caused gasps from around him, though he was quick to hide the weapon in its holster before one noticed.

“Who did that?!” came a shout from the bouncer. Patrons were already making their way toward the exit. Not wanting to get caught in a crossfire.

Jesper occupied himself with his rum, glancing over his shoulder to Inej, who signaled to him the bullet did not penetrate the glass completely. Sighing, he downed the contents, waited until it was clear, and shot again.

The second bullet hit the glass with a loud clunk. Once again alerting the occupants of the Snake Pit. Many searched themselves for any sign of blood for fear they were shot by an unknown assailant.

“C’mon,” Jesper whispered, peering at the enclosure. He saw the evidence of his bullet, a chip in the glass near the bottom. If he could time it right, without someone getting in the way, he’d hit the mark.

Meanwhile employees of the club were trying to calm the crowd, “everyone please remain--.” Another shot rang out, more shouts echoing. Kaz’s patience was running thin. Their door to escape started to close as he noticed the security begin to close in on the Crows. No doubt suspecting they were to blame for the chaos.

Kaz Brekker coming to the Snake Pit with his most trusted advisors for only a drink? Yeah right.

Then, almost in slow motion, the sound best described as ice cracking filled his ears. All eyes turned to the enclosure. Fear surfacing as they witnessed spiderwebs painting the glass. Then all hell broke loose when the glass gave way, allowing the beasts freedom from their isolation.

Screams ensued. People climbing from the floors onto tables and chairs. Hissing from the snakes intensified the hysteria. Kaz even found himself moving when the python pivoted in his direction. Jesper of course found himself on top of a chair the moment the glass shattered. Inej was high up on a balcony on the opposite side of the club. How did she get up there? No one knew. Wyalan was close to Jesper. He too found safety on a stool. Nina meanwhile was listening to the heartbeats around here. The number decreased each time a patron made it up the staircase and out the door.

Seconds passed and no sight of the Snake Charmer. Kaz was getting worried. Fearing the plan was a failure. His worry increased when he found himself scurrying on top of a poker table. Distracted with trying to find the workers he suspected of being the Snake Charmer to realize the cobra had got close to him. Had he not acted fast, the man’s leg would’ve fallen victim to its fangs. Catching Jesper’s eye, they shared the concern evident in their expressions. Wondering just how the fuck they were going to escape the situation.

Suddenly his prayers were answered in the form of an angelic voice. Causing the screams to disappear…..

“You’re heading for heaven,

The sweet old hereafter,

And I’ve got one foot in the door.

But before I can fly up,

I’ve loose ends to tie up,

Right here in The Old Therebefore.”

Heads turned, facing the direction of the sound. Their expressions turned into pure shock. Kaz may have had his suspicions, but it still came as a shock to discover he was right all along.

Ketterdam’s notorious crime boss, leader of the Blood Serpents….was the Snake Pit’s bartender.

Walking around the bar, crunching against the glass of broken bottles on the floor from the hysteria of customers fleeing to get away from the snakes, the woman kept her gaze on slithering animals. The hissing continued as she inched closer, however she did not seem fazed at all. Her singing continued.

“I’ll be along,

When I’ve finished my song,

When I’ve shut down the band,

When I’ve played out my hand,

When I’ve paid all my debts,

When I have no regrets,

Right here in The Old Therebefore.

When nothing is left anymore.”

The hissing got quieter. The animals turning so they were in line with the woman. Slithering slowly but surely toward her. Confirming to everyone she was their master. Their charmer.

Off to the side, a few of the Blood Serpents rushed in with crates. Pushing people aside. Meanwhile the woman got to her knees, leveling down to the snakes who were now moving toward her. Eyes locked, face serious. The Snake Charmer was obviously trying to keep herself together. But Kaz felt the rage seep off of her.

“I’ll catch you up,

When I’ve emptied my cup,

When I’ve worn out my friends,

When I’ve burned out both ends,

When I’ve cried all my tears,

When I’ve conquered my fears,

Right here in The Old Therebefore.

When nothing is left anymore.”

The snakes smaller in size slithered up her outstretched arms. Covering both limbs in a tangle of scales. One slithering up to encase her neck, almost like a necklace. The Cobra took claim to her waist. The python circled her, almost like it contemplated joining its fellow serpents.

Around Kaz, he made out the faint gasps of customers who had yet to depart. Glancing around, he witnessed them all in states of shock and awe. Even his Crows were at a loss of words.

As was he.

The Snake Charmer’s voice turned strong. Echoing through the entire club as she belted out the next verse. Bringing chills to everyone’s arms.

“I’ll bring the news,

When I’ve danced off my shoes,

When my body’s closed down,

When my boat’s run around,

When I’ve tallied the score,

And I’m flat on the floor,

Right here in The Old Therebefore.

When nothing is left anymore.”

Rising from the ground, she was covered by the creatures. Her python has wrapped itself around her leg. Its tail was on the floor while its head perched by where the cobra had secured itself on her belt. From the neck down the Snake Charmer was a sight to behold. Revealing why the nickname was not only because she was the leader of a gang filled with snakes.

It was because she was gifted with the talent of charming their namesake.

Moving toward her subordinates holding crates, no doubt to keep the animals contained, the woman passionately sang the final verse. Giving it all she had.

“When I’m pure like a dove,

When I’ve learned how to love.”

Tone dropping, she leaned to lower the snakes into the crates. Gently as though they were newborn babies. Kaz caught her stoke the pythons head, her singing so low it was good the place was dead quiet.

Right here in The Old Therebefore.

When nothing is left anymore.”

Finally, after what felt like forever, the snakes were safely stored in the crates. Lids dropping shut with the gang members hurrying from the floor to transport them to another room. No one moved. Any and all eyes focused on the woman in the pinstripe suit. Back turned to the Crows and other patrons, but from the fearful look of her door bouncers, everyone silently prayed they’d make it to the morning.

Moving her neck in a circle, a low crack from the joints that had been stiff, she slowly turned to face the audience. A clenched jaw and fury in her eyes made it clear what was going through her mind. Especially to Kaz, who was fighting to not look away when she instantly met his gaze.

Oh, she knew alright.

“Well…” the Charmer’s tone sent chills along the Crows' bodies. “You’ve certainly got my attention, Mr. Brekker.” Her spite was evident. Complete rage. Likely planning every means of torture she wished to bestow on her rival and his comrades.

It was so quiet. So thrilling. Nobody dared to move a muscle. Patrons watching the stare down between the King, and now the unmasked Queen, of the Barrel. It was captivating yet terrifying. Wondering who would make the first move, and if it will end in a blood bath.

Then she snapped, “Everyone out!!” The floor cleared in seconds. Leaving only Serpents and Crows. They knew better than to attempt an escape. Plus the moment their boss addressed Kaz, the Serpents had circled them to prevent any sudden attack.

Kaz remained composed. Watching closely as the Snake Charmer moved to the bar to pour herself a drink. “Before I kill you, Kaz Brekker, and your little birds too,” she did not look at him, paying attention to the liquid filling the glass. He tightened his jaw. “I want to hear you explain to me why you brought yourselves to my club,” bringing the glass to her lips, she downed half the alcohol in one gulp. Drawing her eyes up to make contact with him, “And destroyed my babies' home.”

Her footsteps echoed, walking toward the center of the floor where Kaz stood. “You’re a smart man.” She took another sip, this time slower. “Not only did you manage to draw me into the light, but you knew exactly how to do so.” A smirk plastered on Kaz’s face. A bold move considering the threat lingering at displaying his smugness to the Serpent Queen. Her lips were in a thin line, “What brings you to my den?”

Straightening his posture, Kaz stepped closer. Their distance is only a mere foot from one another. Making everyone--Crows and Serpents alike--suffocating from the tension between the two.

“You won’t be killing us tonight, Charmer.” If only he knew her real name. Only having her title felt like she had some reign on him. Superior in a sense. The whole Barrel knew him as Dirtyhands, but Kaz Brekker had his own reputation. For her, people can now put a face to the name Snake Charmer. A beautiful woman with the voice of an angel. So powerful it made snakes bend to her will.

Also, people would be shaken by the fact the deadly gang leader served them drinks during their visits to the Snake Pit. Hidden in plain sight. Listening to them spill their drunken secrets.

Kaz leaned closer, the scent of her perfume hitting his nostrils. Jasmine. A flower known to attract snakes. He understood why she wore it. The smell was alluring. As was her presence, but Kaz dismissed the thought as quick as it came. “Doing so will result in you losing an important job I’m willing to negotiate your assistance on. Believe me, the reward is more than generous--enough for the both of us to share.” Now he got her attention, confirmed by the way her head slightly tilted, brow raised.

“Humor me, Brekker.”

“Have you ever heard of jurda parem?”

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x y/n #six of crows #six of crows imagine #six of crows fanfic #kaz brekker fanfic #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #Spotify

215 notes · View notes

d8nielaa · 3 months ago

Note

can u write anything with like. a grungy tuff greaser reader n darry . i don’t have a specific plot idea im sorry 😭😭 but like someone who matches his determination and grit esp with fighting. maybe them backing each other up during n after a rumble? idk if that’s anything lmao

Author's Note: yess ofc! also I hate my bio class

Big N' Tough

Darrel Curtis x reader

The rumble’s already in full swing by the time you throw your first punch.

Fists are flying, bodies colliding, the air thick with the sound of grunts and the dull, sick crack of knuckles meeting bone. It’s chaos, the kind that lights a fire in your gut instead of fear.

Darry’s somewhere in the thick of it, and so are you—shoulder to shoulder, moving like two parts of the same machine.

A Soc swings at him, but you’re faster. Your fist connects with the guy’s jaw before he even sees you coming, sending him stumbling back, dazed.

Darry glances at you, breath heavy, blood dripping from a split in his brow.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he mutters, wiping at the cut with the back of his hand.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah? And what, let you have all the fun?”

A smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth, but there’s no time for more. Another Soc rushes you, and before you can react, Darry’s got him by the collar, slamming him into the dirt with enough force to make the ground shake.

Your eyes flick to his, something unspoken passing between you.

Got your back. Yeah? I got yours too.

The fight stretches on, long enough that your knuckles are raw and your ribs ache from a few well-placed hits. But you don’t go down, and neither does Darry.

By the time it’s over, you’re both standing in the aftermath, the Socs scattering, retreating. Victory tastes like sweat and blood in your mouth.

Darry turns to you, brows drawn. “You alright?”

You scoff, wiping your busted lip with the back of your wrist. “Please. I should be askin’ you that.”

His lips press into a line, like he’s trying to figure out how to say something he’s not used to saying. Instead, he just reaches out, his fingers brushing over a forming bruise on your cheek, so gentle it almost doesn’t make sense.

“Darry,” you say, quieter now.

He exhales, the fight leaving his shoulders. “You’re too damn stubborn, you know that?”

You grin, bruised but unbroken. “Yeah. And?”

He shakes his head, but there’s something fond in his eyes. “And I think you’re the only one who’s got half a chance of keeping up with me.”

You smirk, nudging his side—where you know he’s already sore. He winces, but you see the ghost of a smile before he pulls you in, his arm sliding around your shoulders, anchoring you close.

Neither of you say it outright, but it’s there, humming between you.

I got you. I got you too.

And that’s all that matters.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: hey cuties

#the outsiders musical #x reader #brent comer #darry curtis #darrel curtis x reader

20 notes · View notes

maevawrites · 5 months ago

Text

'𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬' . . . ponyboy curtis

✦ disclaimers/warnings? ~ black!reader x ponyboy curtis, drabble, fluff, possible grammar and spelling mistakes, constantly making edits and changes so if this seems a bit different from the first time you read it thats why!

✦ word count: 702

𝐲𝐨𝐮 and pony had met in your english class, freshman year. when pony first saw you, he thought you were very pretty. no scratch that; beautiful. the way you came to school every day with a different hairstyle, whether it was puffs, braids, twists, he loved it all. he ultimately thought you were a soc but that was far from the truth. you were new in town and in fact had no idea there were such terms like 'greasers' and 'socs'. you two officially introduced yourselves to each other when getting paired up to work on a project. you couldn't help but form a small crush on him. from then on your friendship grew- along with something deeper, from both of you.

pony was a blushing mess whenever you were around him. he'd always find a way to trip up on his words and make a fool of himself but you thought it was cute—the way the tip of his nose and ears would turn a faint shade of red, his eyes darting all across your face, avoiding eye contact. every time he walks you back to your house, you'll kiss him on the cheek as a goodbye, and without fail, he'll turn red as a tomato, a cheeky smile spreading across his face.

but he left you flustered just as often. whenever you're talking about something, no matter how random or silly your thoughts were, he listened—nodding, offering small comments here and there, letting you know he was right there with you. and it wasn’t just that he listened, it was how he did it. the way his eyes never strayed from yours, warm and full of quiet understanding, made your words catch in your throat sometimes. how he’d tilt his head slightly, brows furrowed in focus, like every little thing you said mattered. and when he’d softly chuckle at your jokes or respond with a thoughtful hum, your heart would stutter, heat creeping up your neck. it was ridiculous, really—how a simple glance or an absentminded brush of his hand against yours could leave you feeling so lightheaded.

after pony found out you had a love for reading just like him, you guys made a little book club (just the two of you), reading books y'all decided on and held little meetings either at the library or at pony's house if he knew the rest of the gang wouldn't be there. (he wanted the space to be as quiet and comfortable as possible for the two of you :,))

one night, just the two of you were at ponyboy's kitchen table, giggling about something one of the characters had done in the book when suddenly darry came in. you guys must've been in your own world that you hadn't heard the front door open and weren't expecting anyone else to come home. "hey pone, didn't know you were having a friend over." he greeted pony and offered you a small nod. you smiled in return, letting your dimples show. "uh yeah, forgot to tell you, i guess." pony responded scratching his neck, clearly embarrassed. darry smirked. “no funny business, you two.” he teasingly pointed between the two of you. “darryyy”, pony groaned, dragging out his name in a flustered tone. you giggled at the playful exchange, shaking your head. darry chuckled before disappearing into his room, leaving you two alone again. now that the giggling from earlier had faded, the only sound was the soft rustling pages as you both continued the book shared between you.

the silence between you felt easy, the kind of quiet that comes with being completely comfortable with someone. the only thing you could hear now was the soft turning of pages and the loud thumping of your heart, racing for reasons you weren’t quite ready to name yet.

pony didn't have the words either- not yet. he didn't know what this all meant, the way your knee brushed against his or the constant fluttering in his chest whenever you smiled. he didn't know what these new feelings were, but he didn't mind not knowing yet. for now, this quiet moment with you felt enough, and maybe that was all the both of you needed.

✦ maeva's thoughts ~ ekkkkk my first piece of writing on here!! hope you guys enjoyed!!

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #the outsiders ponyboy #black reader #x reader #ponyboy x reader #fluff #drabble #maevawrites #Spotify

27 notes · View notes

sunflower567 · 2 months ago

Text

Callsign: Umbra Chapter 16: Football, not Soccer

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,679

Edited: ✅

Published: May 9th, 2025

Last update/change: June 28th, 2025

Previous Chapter

Marine Raider Training Center, Camp Lejeune, North Carolina: One Week Later

After General Barnes' surprise visit to Camp Lejeune, Imani and Simon’s days have been relatively uneventful. The two continued their current routine. Tonight, however, was a bit different and a bit more chaotic. All of that was a result of Imani getting injured by a recruit who was a bit reckless in the live training exercises that they were recently put in charge of.

Now they sat, Simon on the coffee table, Imani on the couch, and Alpha right next to them, watching the exchange.

“I can’t believe you threw yourself over that idiot,” Simon mumbled as he helped clean her wounds on her hand and put new bandages on.

“Yeah he’s an idiot for fucking around with a decoy grenade but that doesn’t mean let the kid get burned.”

“And now look at you with cuts on both hands because you braced yourself against broken gravel,” Simon added.

“Yeah, not my finest moment,” Imani smiled, “Guess no cooking tonight. Unless you're also a five-star chef, and I didn’t know.”

“Mani, I burn popcorn. It’ll be best to keep me away from stoves.”

With a knowing smirk, Imani asked the obvious question, “Take out then?”

Simon shrugged as he began to gather everything and clean up, with Alpha following right behind him. “What do you want?”

“Pizza?”

“Sure.”

“With honey barbecue wings?”

“Why not?”

“With a soda?”

“That toxic shit you drink?”

“At least our fanta isn’t piss yellow!”

“Yeah, but at least ours isn't radioactive orange.”

“It’s suppose to be orange you fucking anarchist,” Imani exclaimed, “It’s supposed to be orange soda! Why is your orange soda piss yellow? It makes no sense at all! Shit looks like orange juice!”

After some back and forth, Imani and Simon eventually got their two large pepperoni and plain cheese pizzas with 5 mild and BBQ wings with a 2-liter Pepsi to settle their Fanta debate. And of course, Alpha sat nearby on his eating mat with three large pieces of meat in front of him. Even with Imani warning him to slow down, the young wolf didn’t seem to listen or care. With a sigh and a shake of her head, Imani joined Simon again with pizza and a drink.

Since it was Simon’s turn to choose their entertainment for dinner. As a Manchester native, he decided to put on the Manchester United (Simon’s favorite team) vs. Fulham soccer game. Or as he kept correcting her football.

“It’s soccer!”

“Football Imani, football,” Simon replied, “I don’t know why you call it soccer.”

“Alright then, let me school ya British boy,” Imani smirked as she put her plate down and turned her body to face the man, “The term soccer was developed in England. Y’all made it. In 1863, the Football Association was created, so Brits would say Let’s play by the association rules. But the word association is a bit long, so it’s shortened to assoc. But in the 1890s, British schoolboys tended to take a word's first syllables and add er to it. Kind of like how Rugby is called rugger.”

Simon wasn’t expecting a full-on history lesson, much less from someone not from there. But Imani has done nothing but surprise him since they first met. “Ok and?”

“And, the problem is with the word association. If it were used, then football would have become Asser. I guess boys did have some form of decorum back then. So they skipped the first two letters and went with soc. And that was the creation of the word and name for soccer.”

“How do you know this off the top of your head,” Simon asked in disbelief.

“I love learning fun facts, ok. Let me know if you want to know,” Imani laughed, turning back to look at the soccer game, “Now, please explain the rules to me. Because I still don’t get it.”

“I thought you said you knew all the rules?”

“With American football, yes. Not this. All I know is yellow card means your pushing it and red card means get the fuck off the feild.”

“Bloody fucking hell,” Simon sighed. For an hour of the game, Simon explained and answered Imani's questions. After the 90-minute game, Manchester United won 3-0. Something Simon was happy to see as he cheered for each score.

“Are you from Manchester, Si?”

“Born and raised Mani,” Simon answered as he put on another game.

“I learn more everyday,” Imani smiled as she turned back to the TV.

Like before, Imani and Simon returned to a quiet but comfortable silence. Eating their food and watching the soccer game. But as they watched and sat, only saying a few words concerning the game, the two would be afraid to admit that they enjoyed this moment of silence and saddened by how it might end soon.

“Price, Gaz, and Soap should be back soon right,” Imani asked, realizing how much time has passed since the three men left.

“Yeah, they’ll be back any day now,” Simon replied, “Why?”

“I’m gonna miss our little routine. Making dinner, watching movies, or watching soccer, and then cleaning up. It was nice.”

“Who says it has to end,” Simon asked, looking down at Imani.

At first, Imani thought he was just saying it to say it like most men do. But when she looked up in his eyes, she saw he was serious. In the short month she’s known this man, He’s never lied to her once. Be a dick? Sure, of course, but never lied. Imani didn’t want whatever this was between them to end. As much as she knew this could be her downfall, she would have gladly fallen into the pits of Tartarus and wished to drop even more if she ever reached the bottom for this man.

The same can be said for Simon. Since his mother and brother died, he had closed his entire world off. But this spitfire, arrogant, wild, kind, and adventurous woman managed to do what he thought was impossible, and that scared him.

The two didn’t realize they were inching closer until they were damn near on top of each other. Imani noticed Simon’s eyes looking from her lips to her eyes and back. Reaching up slowly so as not to startle him like a scared animal, Imani put her hand on his exposed jaw since he still had his mask over his nose. She caressed it softly as she felt the slight stubble on it. She watched her hand move across his lower face intently, like it was the 11 o’clock news.

Reaching his hand up and cupping her cheek, Simon returned her attention to him. The two were getting closer and closer. The world outside their little bubble fades to nothingness like the space between them.

But if only that were true.

As the two began to close their eyes, they both heard an urping sound. Imani’s eyes widened as her head whipped towards Alpha, and she saw him in his throw-up position.

“OH FOR FUCKS SAKES ALPHA,” Imani exclaimed as she jumped off the couch and grabbed one of the plastic bags for their food and held it by Alpha’s mouth.

But as Imani comforted Alpha and scolded him for eating his food too fast, Simon sat on the couch in disbelief.

Did he just? Almost? Him? Simon was in disbelief. ‘I shouldn't have done that. I should've pulled away. I should’ve.’ Moving his mask back down to try and mask the feeling of her fingers, Simon watched as Imani walked out of the room to dispose of the throw-up bag and get the wolf some water. ‘Stupid. Bloody fuckin stupid.’ Simon looked down at his hands, the same hands that almost took him over a line he never wanted to cross. But all that trouble would have been worth it for those few seconds. But that scared him more than anything. That desire to hold her, kiss her, to have her, to lo-

Simon shook his head before his mind could race any further. Something like that can’t happen again. No matter how tempting she was, he was her superior and a team member.

Walking back in the room with a bowl, Imani placed it on the floor and watched as her wolf chugged that water like he hadn’t drunk anything in his short but long life.

Leaning down to get a whiff of him, Imani hoped she wouldn’t smell it. But as she got closer, she closed her eyes and sighed in defeat. She smelled it. That dreadful smell. That sour smell.

“Hey Si,” Imani called out.

“Yeah?”

Looking over her shoulder with a sorry smile, Imani pointed to the giant wolf, “Mind giving me a hand?”

For the next grueling two and a half hours, Imani and Simon washed Alpha. Even though Alpha was the toughest, most dangerous creature on this base, the big old fluff ball hated water. You would have thought he was a damn cat. Worst of all, Alpha also yelled, howled, and barked like he was a damn husky every bath time. Most of the time, it was hilarious, but after a grueling training session that had her injured, Imani and Simon were anything but amused. But as a team, they got the poor beast washed and dried off, even cleaning his massive teeth.

But due to Alpha, the two needed another shower. As he stepped out of his shower and put on a new, clean pair of clothes, Simon noticed the spare skeleton gloves he kept on his dresser, just in case he lost or damaged his pair now.

Grabbing them, Simon looked down and rubbed his hand on the skeleton pattern. Then a thought came. After finishing getting dressed, Simon grabbed the gloves and walked back to the team room.

As he walked in, he saw a now fully dried and puffy-looking Alpha sleeping right in front of the couch. Right above him was his owner, who was in her PJs, which consisted of a tank top, shorts, and, he had come to learn, a bonnet.

Simon felt a slight shiver come over him as he remembered the look he got when he asked her why she was wearing a shower cap.

Retaking his seat by the arm of the couch, Simon looked down at Imani’s rebanged hand.

Noticing his gaze, Imani twisted her body slightly and put her hands out for inspection, “It’s all good now, Si, no need to worry.”

Grabbing them, Simon examined her handiwork himself. Not that he didn’t trust her, but he just wanted to make sure for his own state of mind.

After seeing no missteps, Simon lets go of her hands with a satisfied huff. But before he could zone in on their now third game, Imani noticed the piece of fabric he brought.

“What’s that for,” she asked, pointing to them.

In his mind, Simon was glad she brought them up because he didn’t know how to without coming off as strange or out of character.

With an almost inaudible voice, Simon put the skeleton-print gloves in her lap and said, “I got these for you.”

Looking down at them in surprise, Imani picked one of them up and looked between him and his little gift, “Ain’t this your spare Si?”

“Yeah, but I want you to have it,” Simon explained, “Don’t get the wrong idea. I just don’t want to keep patching you every time you wanna save another idiot.”

Knowing his harsh and blunt tone wasn’t supposed to come off the way it did, Imani looked down at the gloves with a small smile. And again, if she weren’t black, she knows her face would be flushed.

Picking the gloves up, Imani put them on and used the little straps around her wrist and the little bead things tucked to adjust the finger size.

Lifting them up, Imani smiled softly at the gloves and that familiar skeleton pattern she had come to admire.

“Thanks Simon,” Imani smiled.

“No problem,” Simon replied, a small smile hidden behind his mask.

After that, the two were left in a comfortable silence again. As time and the night dragged on, Imani felt the day finally catching up to her. From the incident at training to wrangling in Alpha’s crazy ass, Imani didn’t even feel like she had the strength to move.

Simon didn't notice her dilemma until he felt something land on his shoulder. Looking down, Simon saw Imani fast asleep on his shoulder. He knew he should have either woken her up or told her to go to bed. Two, move her to the other side of the couch. Or three, pick her up and put her in her room. But instead of probably something he’ll regret, he chose option four.

Bringing her closer, Simon grabbed one of the couch pillows and put it behind his neck. Sitting on the couch with her head on his chest, Simon covered the two with the small blanket that barely covered him. But as long as it covered her, he was content.

Looking down at the woman who slept on his chest, Simon felt like his heart and mind were at war. His mind was begging him to let her go. To protect her from the despair and suffering of being with him. He’s been through and seen too much to be in a relationship. And that type of innocence she has shouldn’t be stripped from her by a man who couldn’t even face his worst fears in his dreams or when he looks in a mirror.

But in his heart, he can’t let her go. It was selfish, he knows, but for almost two weeks, he had the pleasure of seeing, learning, and understanding what type of person Imani was. She was understanding, goofy, kind, strong, and everything he could think of. No matter how hard he may try, he doesn’t believe he can ever let her go. And with this looming threat over her, he couldn’t help but bring her in even closer.

Lying completely still as Imani began to move at the tightest, Imani stretched a bit, brought one of her hands up near his shoulders, and even hiked a leg up so it was across his lap.

‘Fucking hell,’ Simon sighed as he looked down at Imani, chuckling in disbelief. Wrapping a sturdy arm around her to keep her steady, Simon looked down at the wolf and saw that he was constantly watching them.

“Oi,” Simon said softly, “Don’t worry, I got your mum boy.”

Scratching his hand with his free hand to show his sincerity, Alpha believed Simon and lay back down in front of the couch, releasing a sigh as he got comfortable.

Reaching down to give him one last scratch, Simon moved that arm behind his head as he watched the new game that came on.

Before he realized it, the sound of Imani and Alpha breathing slowly lulled him to sleep. His arm around Imani never faltered as her hand held onto his shirt.

Later: 12:55 AM

“Fuckin hell, I’m beat sir,” Gaz groaned as he rubbed his sore neck, walking down the planes ramp.

“Who you telling Kyle,” Price agreed, looking back at the younger soldier.

After a grueling few hours, Price and Gaz finally returned to North Carolina after almost two weeks of what they would call a goose chase, but what General Shepherd would call getting ahead of the game.

“You think Shepherd sent us out there for a reason or just busywork sir?”

“Either honestly. Gave us breadcrumbs at best. Suspected Nationalist who wants to cause trouble.”

“You think he knows more than what he told us, sir?”

“Maybe. Or maybe he only knows enough to be worried.”

“Yeah, and with us only finding a burnt warehouse and destroyed data we can’t trace, it must make him feel even worse.”

“That’s what worries me the most,” Price sighed as the armory finally came into sight, “Someone wanted to be seen just enough to get noticed, and then just up and leave.”

“Just gotta wait huh,” Kyle asked as he opened up the door.

“Only choice we have.”

As the two walked into the armory, they were greeted with the sight of their Scottish teammate, who seemed to have returned from his mission not too long before them.

“Hey Soap,” Kyle greeted, with Price giving him a nod as he dropped his bookbag on a nearby bench.

“Gaz. Price,” Soap groaned as he sat himself down.

“How was your mission Soap,” Price asked.

“Eh, nothin too grand. It was cauld as hell though.”

“I warned ya,” Price chuckled.

Not wanting to waste time and wanting to sleep in their own beds, the three men hurried to get into more comfortable clothes and logged their gear back into the armory’s inventory.

As they walked to their private quarters, Soap thought aloud, “I wonder how those two got along while we were gone?”

Both Kyle and Price looked at him in confusion.

“They should have been fine. They don’t seem to hate each other,” Kyle answered.

“Aye, but they don’t like each other either,” Soap replied, “Those two were going at it in the gym before we left. And they didn’t seem happy to have been left behind. With each other no less.”

“Was the spar they had really that tense,” Kyle asked, getting an excited nod from Soap.

“As long as they didn’t fuck up our quarters,” Price mumbled.

As the three finally arrived at their destination, the place looked almost exactly as they remembered it—a lot cleaner, but nothing broken in sight.

Walking to the fridge, Soap expected to see the few beers and random pieces of food. Instead, he saw a fully stocked fridge and even what seemed to be leftovers.

“Hey Price,” Soap called out, “Ghost can’t cook right?”

“Not that I know of. Why?”

“Well, someone did,” Soap mumbled as Gaz opened the oven.

“And someone got pizza and wings,” Gaz cheered as he pulled the box out.

“Oh hell yeah!”

But as the two sergeants began taking out slices of pizza to heat up in the microwave, Price noticed the dim light of the TV in the Team room.

Walking towards it, he expected to see Umbra or Ghost sitting down, watching whatever they watched. Properly eating some pizza or drinking.

But he saw none of that.

As he opened the door to the dark team room, the only light from the TV that now played some old football game, Price's gaze landed on Alpha first. The beast was sleeping on his back, paws in the air, snoring like a grown man. But as Price’s gaze traveled to the couch next to the grey wolf and closet to the wall, Price’s eyes damn near jumped out of his skull.

His lieutenant and newest sergeant were right before him, sleeping on the couch in an embrace.

Imani was sleeping completely on top of Simon, her one gloved hand resting on his chest next to her face. The other was hidden under the blanket draped over her, but it did not hide the outline of her leg that was hiked up on him.

And Simon had one arm behind his head and the other firmly securing Imani around her waist, a soft snore escaping his lips ever so slightly as he and Alpha all but took turns snoring as Imani lay unmoving as if this was just any other day.

Based on what Soap said about the nature of these two relationships, Price never would have guessed they got this close in the last two weeks they’ve been gone. The way they all looked right now was very domestic, very intimate. You would have thought they were a loving couple with their dog, then two soldiers and a bio-weapon.

But here Price was, looking down in shock as the man he’s known for years as a light sleeper, not moving a single inch at Price’s presence. As if the woman on top of him had him in a deep trance.

“Oi, Price,” Soap’s voice came from behind him. Closing the door softly behind him, Price turned to look to Soap.

“Yeah?”

“You want some pizza or some wings sir?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I’ll take a slice.”

Noticing Price’s expression, Soap looked a bit concerned, “You ok? You seem…out of it sir.”

“No, I’m fine,” Price said as he softly punched Soap’s chest, “Don’t go in there though. Ghost, Alpha, and Umbra are in there asleep. Best not to disturb them.”

“Ah gotcha,” Soap said at first. Then he finally realized Price’s words, “WAIT TOGETHER?”

“No, and keep your voice down,” Price shushed, “Simon fell asleep on the chair and Umbra fell asleep on the couch with Alpha.”

“Ah,” Soap understood as he began to chuckle at the thought, “I don’t know why I thought that. Must be tired because that would never happen in a million years.”

Agreeing, the three soldiers sat down and ate their reheated pizza and wings. But Price’s gaze kept going towards that door and what lay behind it on the other side.

He knows he should have probably woken them up and had them separate. But he couldn’t. He’s known Simon for years, and never had he seen him get close to anyone. The closet being Soap but that was because Soap damn near kidnap him and said you’re my mate now.

But this was different and possibly more dangerous. For now, Price will just sit back and observe, see where this leads. Most likely, this was a one-off event, and they’ll get over it. But if it doesn’t and it starts to affect the team's efficiency, that’s where he’ll step it up.

But as he and the rest finished and walked back to their room, he took one last look back and thought he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Next: Chapter 17

Arthur's Note

Thank you all so much for your patience and understanding! I'm sorry it took longer than expected, but hey, it was my sister's big day, and I had to show all out for my big sis!

Another fun fact: That whole bit about soccer and the Fanta bit was based on a real interaction I had with one of my British friends I met on PlayStation. We were littlery going back and forth and his response to what I said about that soccer was like 'How the fuck do you know that?" I crack up every time I think about that.

Imani and Simon's relationship is now heading into new and dangerous territory. How will Price address the relationship that could make or break the team if it continues and is allowed to bloom? Next, we'll see how Price handles it as new faces arrive for the last-minute prep for the cross-military training event.

Now, as a quick note, I am leaving for my study abroad next Friday (Yay!), so I'll be on the other side of the world exploring Southeast Asia for about two weeks. I'll most likely only post one chapter every Friday due to that and possibly being unable to get internet, but I'll let y'all know. And that will only be until I get back to my home state.

Thanks again for giving me and my story a chance, and I hope to see you all next week for chapter 17!

13 notes · View notes

networkingpm · 2 months ago

Text

IPv4 vs IPv6: Key Differences for CCNA Candidates | Full Form of CCNA Explained

When preparing for the CCNA (Cisco Certified Network Associate) certification, understanding key networking concepts is critical. Two of the most important protocols in networking are IPv4 and IPv6. Both play a crucial role in the operation of the internet and are fundamental topics for CCNA candidates. Additionally, it’s essential to know the full form of CCNA and other key terms like SOC (System on Chip) for a complete understanding of the networking landscape.

What is CCNA?

Before diving into the details of IPv4 vs. IPv6, it's important to first understand the CCNA full form. CCNA stands for Cisco Certified Network Associate, and it’s one of the most recognized networking certifications in the IT industry. For those pursuing a career in network administration and support, the CCNA exam covers various topics, including IP addressing, routing and switching, network security, and, notably, the differences between IPv4 and IPv6. Understanding these protocols is critical for success on the exam.

Understanding IPv4

IPv4, or Internet Protocol version 4, is the fourth iteration of the Internet Protocol. It uses a 32-bit address space, providing about 4.3 billion unique IP addresses. IPv4 is widely used across networks, but as the number of connected devices increases, the limitations of IPv4's address space have become apparent. This is where IPv6 comes in.

Key Features of IPv4:

32-bit Addressing: IPv4 addresses are written in dotted-decimal format, such as 192.168.1.1.

Limited Address Space: With only around 4.3 billion unique addresses, IPv4 cannot meet the growing demand for IP addresses.

Subnetting: IPv4 allows network administrators to divide networks into smaller subnetworks, improving network organization.

What is IPv6?

IPv6 (Internet Protocol version 6) was introduced to solve the IPv4 address shortage. With a 128-bit address scheme, IPv6 allows for an almost limitless number of unique addresses—an essential feature for the ever-expanding internet.

Key Features of IPv6:

128-bit Addressing: IPv6 addresses are written in hexadecimal format, such as 2001:0db8:85a3:0000:0000:8a2e:0370:7334.

Vast Address Space: IPv6 provides an enormous number of unique IP addresses, solving the limitations of IPv4.

Built-in Security: IPv6 was designed with security in mind, including mandatory support for IPSec, enhancing overall network security.

Key Differences Between IPv4 and IPv6

For CCNA candidates, understanding the key differences between IPv4 and IPv6 is crucial. Here’s a quick comparison:

Feature

IPv4

IPv6

Address Length

32-bit

128-bit

Address Format

Dotted Decimal (e.g., 192.168.1.1)

Hexadecimal Colon (e.g., 2001:0db8::8a2e)

Address Space

4.3 billion addresses

340 undecillion addresses

Security

Optional (IPSec)

Built-in (mandatory IPSec)

Broadcasting

Supports broadcasting

Does not support broadcasting, uses multicast

For anyone pursuing the CCNA, being familiar with the practical applications and limitations of both IPv4 and IPv6 is essential, especially as the industry gradually transitions toward IPv6.

Why Is IPv6 Important for CCNA Candidates?

As a CCNA candidate, understanding IPv6 is increasingly important. The IPv4 address pool has been exhausted, and IPv6 is the future of global IP addressing. While many networks continue to use IPv4, the transition to IPv6 is inevitable. CCNA candidates must understand how to configure and manage both IPv4 vs. IPv6 addresses, especially in a dual-stack environment where both protocols coexist.

The move to IPv6 offers several advantages, including greater address space, better security features, and more efficient routing. The CCNA exam will test your knowledge of IPv6 addressing and its implementation in modern networks.

What is SOC?

In the world of networking, terms like SOC Full From (System on Chip) are also essential. An SOC is an integrated circuit that combines all components of a computer or other electronic system into a single chip. Many modern network devices, such as routers and switches, use SOC technology to integrate processing power, memory, and networking interfaces on one chip.

For CCNA candidates, understanding terms like SOC can provide a broader perspective on networking devices and how they function.

Conclusion

In conclusion, as a CCNA candidate, mastering the IPv4 vs IPv6 debate is essential for your success on the certification exam. Understanding the full form of CCNA, the differences between IPv4 and IPv6, and how both protocols operate in modern networks will help you navigate real-world networking challenges. The transition to IPv6 is an ongoing process, and having a strong grasp of both protocols will make you a valuable asset in the networking field.

By knowing the ins and outs of IPv4 and IPv6, along with the technical understanding of other terms like SOC, you’ll be well-prepared for both your CCNA exam and your future career in networking.

#ipv4 vs ipv6 #ccna full form #soc full form #difference between ipv4 and ipv6a

0 notes

reversemoon255 · 7 months ago

Text

Soul of Chogokin GX-113 Gundam Tryon 3

Considering Gundam Build Fighters Try isn't to most popular season of its subline, it's very easy to argue that Tryon 3 is the most popular aspect of that season... except maybe Fumina. Anyway, the Mobile Suits of GBFT were very Super Robot in performance and combat, but Tryon 3 took that to the next step by also referencing them with its aesthetics. Tryon 3 was also easily recognizable as being based off the ZZ Gundam, while most other Gunpla had more original designs which was a common complaint among fans at the time. But despite its popularity, it has only had ever gotten that original kit and a few hard-to-get color and plastic variants, so to have its second iteration be the full-on high-end Super Robot treatment is a welcome surprise.

The Good: While I've heard a ton of good things about the line, this is my first foray into SoC. As the name suggests, there are a lot of metal parts throughout, primarily in the legs but quite a bit is used to reinforce joints. As such, it is very heavy and very solid. It also has a good range of posability, though gentle pressure should be applied when moving the tougher metal joints.

As with the original, Tryon 3 is capable of splitting into Riku Tryon, Sora Tryon, and Umi Tryon. They all carry over the posability they grant to Tryon 3, with Riku Tryon having decently posable legs in addition. The transformation is also very fun, with no parts forming like with the original. Riku Tryon's head is on a dual armature that swings over the chest, Umi Tryon's head fits snugly into the chest cavity, and Sora Tryon's legs completely invert on a set of sliding rails to become the standard Gundam legs. It's all very impressive, and not at all complicated, which speaks wonders to its engineering. It even has added places to store the Sora head and Umi tail which become its sword, and the wings which are usually discarded.

I'll also say, when combined, it feels like the size they portray it as in the show, closer to 1/100 scale than 1/144. Despite a lot of HG kits declaring they're 1/144 scale, that doesn't always match up in practice, with kits like those from Wing or units like Mobile Doll Sarah or May being bigger than they should be, or in this case HG Tryon 3 feeling small, though its size did sometimes feel like it was on a slider.

Apart from a bevy of alternate hands, Tryon 3 does comes with a number of bonus parts, most of which are beam effects. It comes with an enlarged head crest to wield for its iconic Boomerang Stagger, beam effects for both its Hyper Beam Sabers and an over-foot-long one for Hyper Minovsky Chohoken, and propulsion effects with stand capability for Armed Booster. It also comes with a set of two parts so you can depict it pulling Chohoken from the Liger's mouth, with the beam piece alone doubling as a Choho Pressure effect piece.

The included stand is also nice. While it doesn't have undercarriage storage, like with a lot of The Gattai toys, it does try to remain very pristine in appearance. You can separate it into three parts to display the three individual units separately, remove the name plate, and all the armatures you can attach hook onto the existing Riku and Umi plugs, or a cleverly hidden hole in the center of the stand.

The Bad: There's some general tightness and fragility to worry about, though it points out most instances in the instructions. The sword is also quite heavy to the point that it recommends you use one of the armatures to prop it up, though you have to do so with the unreliable clamp arms. I do wish there was some way to plug the stand into the sword if they knew this was going to be a thing. The first time I attached the V-Fin I was worried something was going to snap, though nothing thankfully did.

The biggest issue I had was the hands. They're slightly rubberized, and very tight, so they took quite a bit of force to put on the wrists for the first time. I ended up taking the arms off by the elbow to get the leverage I needed to put them on. They get slightly easier the more you do it, but they always require a bit more force than I'd like.

Look, this is a very high-end, high-spec piece. While I have heard of a few fumbles in SoC's past, this seems like a release where they did their homework. It probably helps that it's not trying to do anything too crazy, apart from the leg inversion? Treat it like what it's worth and you will see no trouble; time, patience, and a gentle hand.

Overall, it's great, but expensive. You're definitely getting your money's worth, but the question is if you want to spend that money in the first place. But now I'm kinda sad that this is a solo piece; unlike a lot of Super Robots, Tryon 3 is standalone and doesn't have combo buddies. Except... SD Tryon 3 does have Luna Tryon.

#Gundam #Soul of Chogokin #SOC #Gundam Build Fighters Try #Gundam Build Fighters #Tryon 3 #Gundam Tryon 3 #Z Gundam #ZZ Gundam #review

16 notes · View notes

ironmakerperfection · 7 months ago

Text

Ponyboy x Soc!reader

ps: this is located kinda in 2024 when all new things have came outtttt 😭😭

Its been a long cold rainy day AGAIN so your just catching up on some homework that you needed to finish up. But the reason why it took so long was because of your boyfriend. Ponyboy. “Babyyy” ponyboy repeated for who knows how many times all you knew was that each time he got needier and whinier. “Pony in busy m’ sorry maybe later but not now”. You felt bad brushing him off but you really needed to finish this homework. He slowly started to walk up to you and started to place sloppy kisses all over your face and neck hoping to get you to stop doing your homework and help him with the tent that was forming in his pants. You of course dident notice his dirty little secret that was in his pants but all you did was return him with one big kiss on the lips then shoo’d him away again for the 5th time. “Babyyy please im begging you just give me some attention just get off your computerr” “pony I NEED to finish this if I don’t im gonna be so disappointed in myself please baby just a few more mins or even an hour” “b-“ he wasent even able to finish before you shot him your doe like Bambi eyes with a “pleaseee?” He couldent resist those eyes and you knew it. He layer his head back in defeat and just went to looking all around your pink girly infested room. His eyes landed on your vanity that was full of lipglosses, chapsticks, lip Stains, lipsticks you name it. He slowly got off your bed and made his way over to your vanity pulling out your chair and sitting on it carefully. You dident even care what he was doing as long as he wasent bothering you. “Baby please what’s all this?” He asks you “oh nothing just lip stuff you know” you said not looking up once but just knowing he was talking about your lip products. He scanned through your so called “lip peptide treatments” that had the same brand name and shape but all different colors and flavors. He grabbed a white tube with the flavor “strawberry glaze” and smelled it, it actually smelled really good so he quickly smirked and knew what to do to grab your attention walked on over to you and told you to put it on. Your lips were starting to dry out so you accepted he watched your every move just like a hawk as he watched you apply it on your top and bottom of lip. Your lips quickly got glossed up as you gave them a little pop. Ponyboy admired your every move and asked “what does it taste like?” What an odd thing he asked you thought in your head but you dident really care so your told him it tasted like sweet juicy strawberries. “Can I try?” He asked. “Sure..” you asked hesitantly wondering what he was gonna do. He quickly smashed his lips into yours and gave you a slopping big kiss. This caught you by surprise which made ponyboy proud of himself. He took his lips off of yours slowly not wanting to break the kiss and licked his lips “hmm I rate it a 9/10” he quickly replied running over to your vanity and grabbing the next flavor. You knew you weren’t gonna finish your homework as long as Ponyboy was around.

#the outsiders x reader #the outsiders #the outsiders ponyboy #ponyboy x reader

8 notes · View notes

alaskan-wallflower · 9 months ago

Text

OOOH okay i hit johnny figured out for my au

Johnny is a siren. Specifically a blood bound siren. He lived his life being preyed upon and with abuse from his parents—he DOES have a land form though! It’s hard to explain but I’ll try?

He like Dally has patches of scales along his face and arms and legs. He has webbed feet and a long tail, and he has ruffs on the sides of his face—kinda like the sea monsters in Luca but not really? I’ll have to draw it, smh

BUT! In his normal form he’s pretty gigantic, just like Darry and Daly are, however on land he’s normal sized. He can go on land but not for long periods of time. He needs water on hand because he will literally die without it-sometimes he wears a fishbowl on his head and other times he just sticks full of water so he doesn’t die. His baby sister Josie is a mermaid-he only gets really big if he’s scared or feeling threatened…which is pretty much all the time. Kinda like a pufferfish in a way. But the thing he’s sought after for most is his voice

Johnny can use his voice to heal wounds or even get rid of blood clots (he can’t on himself though, not completely)-but he was often the one fixing up the gang, though it’s very tiring for him to do so. And he needs his voice to do it because he’s a siren of course. However when he gets jumped he was probably going on land to try and find some food or just for fun and the Socs got to him and what did they do?

They took his voice. Miraculously he lived-he managed to heal himself enough to the point where he isn’t gonna die but he’s still very very hurt and now his voice is gone and who knows what those Socs are gonna do with it? What kinds of potions they’re gonna make with it? God forbid they wore it as jewelry…but from that moment on he’s not able to talk. His voice is regenerated but that takes years at least. He can only whisper and even then it’s impossible to hear him.

I dunno. I thought this was fun.

#extreme angst #tw violence #the outsiders #johnny cade #The Wretched AU

6 notes · View notes

tavyliasin · 10 months ago

Text

Scent of Cinnamon 7 - The Dress, The Duck, And The Cambion's Patience

Still unwilling to sleep with Haarlep directly so soon after their deal, Raphael needs to find another way to sate their appetite - and perhaps more importantly to prevent the incubus from the far more dangerous condition of boredom. Fortunately, he has just the client in mind - a poor mortal wretch named Eida - and a contract she's more than willing to sign.

4,025 Words

AO3 Link Click Here or Tumblr Masterlist for SoC Here

Summary: Raphael has a deal to make and the contract requires a little help from Haarlep to satisfy the client's wishes... Pairing: Raphael/Haarlep and Haarlep/Original Female Character SPICE Rating: 3/5 Content Warnings: Aphrodisiacs (mild), Cambion-typical manipulation, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Anal Fingering,Light Angst

Spoilers: Vague House of Hope and Act 3, but most of this series is focused on what came before. Canon Compliance: No canon beyond Haarlep's deals. Other Notes: Hells, it has been a while since I last worked on this series, but it has never been far from my mind or my heart~ I adore the pairing and we have so much further to go with it, yet life - and a few deadlines - kept me from progressing for a while. I also want to give my heartfelt thanks once again to my beta reader https://archiveofourown.org/users/Make_me_thy_lyre for helping polish it up, catch a few errors, and being so willing to chat through things in the comments with me as we polished up a few bits of dust from the draft. Please consider checking out some of her wonderful pieces~

Song Pairing Pure Morning by Placebo "A friend in need's a friend indeed, A friend with weed is better, A friend with breasts and all the rest, A friend who's dressed in leather. A friend in need's a friend indeed, A friend who'll tease is better, Our thoughts compress which makes us blessed And makes for stormy weather." - - Full chapter below the cut! - -

The Dress, The Duck, and The Cambion's Patience

Several tendays passed by in a blur. Time held different meaning to those who lived for millennia, yet there was still little in the form of entertainment for the incubus who lounged upon silken sheets in their new outfit. The leather harness covered little of their body, fitted so precisely to every curve and muscle that it felt almost like a part of their own skin. Chains and spikes added a harsher edge to the look, cool metal the perfect accent to stiff leather and crimson skin. The tailor had clearly earned her position and the renown that came with it. Despite the request being for undergarments, she had clearly designed the outfit with no intention for anything to be worn over it.

Haarlep had checked it over in the mirror a dozen times, finding the overall effect to be quite acceptable for now. Perhaps something could be added or changed later, or in further iterations of the clothing given that leather was not as long-lived as a fiend, particularly in the heat of the hells.

They turned the page of the book that they had barely been reading, the author droning on about mundane interactions for far too long in a tome that promised more enticing content. Were all mortals so dull as to require this much build up? Haarlep sighed and continued on with all the enthusiasm of someone folding laundry.

—

Raphael knew it wouldn’t be enough for long, that keeping his distance would be entirely impossible when the hunger of the incubus reached its peak. Boredom, too, seemed to be just as dangerous as appetite when Haarlep was involved. No, he could not sate them forever with the same games they had played that night. It wasn’t enough for them to watch each other whilst they teased the pleasure from his mirrored nerves, and he wasn’t ready to lay with them directly…not yet…

Rubbing the wrinkles forming on his brow, Raphael stepped into the portal, appearing in the run down home of his latest potential acquisition, contract already in hand. The work of a mere hour should be enough on this one, and he saw the way she looked at him…

“You’ll find the terms to be quite satisfactory,” he laid out the page on the table that was just as worn out as the clothes the half elf had clearly been repairing for a decade already, “within a tenday you’ll have all you wish for, and more.”

“Really? Everything? Even…” The woman’s blush deepened on her cheeks as she lost her words, already looking at the parchment glowing with infernal runes. She couldn’t read it, of course, but it didn’t matter. All she needed to do was sign.

“Everything,” Raphael leaned in closer, allowing the new perfume to fill her senses, delighted at how her breath visibly quickened, “and more.”

The shiver that passed through her was almost palpable, the seductive growl in the edge of the fiends voice hitting its mark with ease. It was almost disappointing how little of a challenge there was in this… “How can I ever thank you?”

“Your signature is all the thanks I need,” Raphael smiled as she took the quill between shaking fingers, “and, of course, you would not think to stray from the terms of our deal now, would you, Little Duck?”

“N…no, of course not! I would never!” The ink dried on the page with the last flourish sealing their agreement.

Raphael rolled up the parchment the moment it was complete, a swift motion sending it directly to safe storage back in the House. Another spell brought forth a paper package tied with a deep crimson ribbon – a gesture that was perhaps unnecessary, but given her current attire… “I suggest you wear something more appropriate for the evening, I believe this will fit you quite well.”

—

The boudoir was warm as always, yet the woman standing in a perfectly fitted – and quite stunningly revealing – dark blue gown was shivering. The dark coils of her hair fell past her shoulders, a single gold comb ornament holding it back from one side of her face, leaving slender fingers to nervously push more of the curls behind her pointed ear on the other side. Despite the flawless tailoring of the garment, it didn’t seem to fit her yet. Not that it would matter soon.

“Well, Little Duck, are you to stand there all night? Or did you wish to claim the prize you earned?” Haarlep kept to the nickname that Raphael had chosen for the woman. It was an ill fit for the half elf, but keeping diminutive pet terms was a simple way to be clear about who held the power.

“I…you’re not what I expected, Raphael…” She faltered, hesitated. The taste of her curiosity was barely an appetiser, but she was a dish that could be seasoned if they were careful. “I thought your invitation was to dine, at least—”

“Then feast your eyes upon everything you wished for!” Haarlep rose from the bed where they had been reclining, stretching out their wings in a display of power, relishing how her eyes drifted across their exposed form. “You see, there is more than one way to devour, more than one taste that could pass your lips~”

The visitor took a half step back, tripping on the train of her dress – clearly unused to the trappings of finery. She gasped, but before she could hit the floor, Haarlep was there. They caught her in their arms easily, holding her low in a dancer’s dip rather than helping her to stand upright.

“Be careful, Little Duck, you have not yet grown used to your new plumage~” Haarlep gently stroked a few stray hairs away from her eyes, bringing their lips within reach of hers, savouring how her breath caught in her throat. “Would you like me to help you with that? It would be such a shame to ruin your new dress so soon, after all.”

—

Raphael remained in the room that would become his archives, brow furrowed as he went over the plans. Security for his most prized possessions would be a key factor, but he should also ensure that contracts, spells, and all manner of tomes that might be of use would be kept perfectly organised. A desk against that wall, yes. A cabinet here, some shelves over there, a few more tables for when the need would arise to bring more debtors in to work for h—

A whisper of feeling crossed his lips. A shadow of a caress across his cheek. His hair felt slender fingers running through it until the echo of touch reached the nape of his neck.

So, it begins… He tapped his fingers on the desk at the realisation. The debtor playing the role of a butler – or something akin to that, at least – had led the newest client to the boudoir. He summoned her contract to his hand, unfurling it upon the desk. Eida, a name akin to a breed of waterfowl. “Little Duck” might not have been particularly imaginative, but it seemed as good a name as any to keep her in line, to remind her how he was taking her from a stagnant pond to a manor’s perfectly kept lake. Her ambitions were simple: leave her life of being poor and destitute, marry rich, live a quiet and pampered life. But she had desired more than that—

His skin prickled again. There was contact with a tail that wasn’t even present as he sat in his human guise, a shudder along the edge of intangible wings.

Raphael reminded himself of the other contract that remained in the Boudoir’s safe, the one place it could not be touched by the incubus. This was their agreement, a mutually beneficial decision to—

He shifted in his seat. It might be some time before he could sit comfortably.

—

“Bold, Little Duck~” Haarlep laughed as the now mostly naked half elf let her fingers drift lower down their body, “do you wish to prove your loyalty to me? Do you swear to serve me?”

“Yes, Raphael,” she whispered, dropping to her knees the moment they pointed at the ground, “I swear it, I swear by every letter in our contract.”

Haarlep grinned, winding their fingers into the curls of her hair to guide her lips to the leather at the lower point of their harness. “Go ahead, show me.”

Eida’s tongue ran along the shape of their length, barely tangible through the thick material, but her eagerness – those sweet and nimble hands finding a grip on the straps of the harness to hold herself closer, soft moans already betraying her lust – that was enough to arouse them. No doubt Raphael himself was already feeling this, a thought that was far more interesting than a simple waterfowl.

Distance was a factor in the incubus’ power, yet Raphael chose to remain within the House. That in itself was a fascinating decision – did he want to feel this? To experience this client servicing his needs without having to look upon her directly? Such a waste, they thought, gazing down at soft eyes that looked up for approval, she looks good on her knees.

—

Raphael shifted in his seat again. A quick cantrip had already made short work of the first loss of control that stained his underclothes, and he was glad of the brief reprieve – Haarlep was apparently returning the favour, if the feeling of pressure on his tongue was anything to go by. At least this allowed time to sort through a few more plans, take some measurements, pen some letters to ensure his pawns would move as they needed them. Eida was just one more piece on the board, but she would be an important one. Securing her marriage to a minor noble, using her cunning and charm to raise that noble’s status and influence, then should it be needed Haarlep could pose as the now high ranking lady of the city. They had to take her form first, of course, but judging by the change in sensation that was not going to be a problem.

Frustrated, Raphael stood from the desk, leaving the chair on its back where it fell as his body transformed in a swirl of flames. Large crimson wings stretched and shuddered behind him as his tail swished and slapped at the floor with his impatience. Staying here was a mistake. Haarlep warned him – the closer he was, the more he would feel it, but hubris had kept him in the House in an effort to grow accustomed to the sensations more swiftly. His pace carried him quickly towards the secondary bedroom that had become his own after trading away the Boudoir to Haarlep, tail still lashing at the stone as he stumbled several times along the way, clothes chafing at the building heat within his body.

—

It was challenging to hold back. Haarlep dug their claws into their own thigh to remind themselves – do not take all of her, do not let the Little Duck sink entirely into pleasure’s depths. She had a use yet.

“Pledge your body to me, swear it, and I will give you every pleasure your body yearns for~” They granted her one more kiss, the aphrodisiac enough to entice her, raise her desire to become the perfect cocktail, one to be sipped carefully. “I…I swear…please—”

Haarlep grinned, wings spreading out behind them, tail flicking back and forth as they finally stopped teasing and thrust fully inside with one swift and merciless motion.

Eida screamed, pleasure overwhelming her in a single moment, lust echoing from the walls as she called out the wrong name. “Raphael!”

Haarlep bristled at the name, but bit their lip, held their tongue. They were playing their part well enough, the master of the House would pay for the insult one way or another…and eventually they would need to grow accustomed to this part of the game, the act of wearing his face and body. They would’ve been concerned about the half elf noticing their change in expression, but her eyes had long since rolled back and closed as waves of bliss took over.

She was…not the most exciting lover, but a different flavour was at least adding some variety at last. They continued to ride the tides of her pleasure, memorising every inch of her body inside and out, relishing how she responded to the slightest change in motion with sweet gasps and tensing muscles. Her form might even be fun to toy with, though whether Raphael would grant that was another matter entirely.

—

The cambion gripped the sheets in his claws, tail wrapped around his aching length in a vain attempt to stem the sensations from the other room. He heard the pleasured cries echoing down the hall, just as much as he felt the woman’s other response in a ghosted grip, squeezing and tensing. He found his other hand reaching for the oil, drifting lower – if he had to endure this, he might as well feel satisfied.

Sharp teeth worried at his lower lip as his inexperienced touch fumbled to find the ways he wanted to be touched, the ways he needed to be filled. Sweat clung to his forehead, eyes squeezed shut as he writhed upon the silks desperate to find relief from the slowly building pressure.

Raphael’s jaw clenched tightly, air sucked in through a hissed breath, cursing Haarlep’s name for making this so infuriatingly difficult.

The contract might have changed the incubus more drastically, but its formation had clearly done something to him as well. Unthinkable, that such a creature would make him so desperately needy that his own clumsy fingers were already trying to find the centre of his desire. They made it seem far too easy…

—

The encounter would have to end soon – it was becoming more challenging not to devour the woman’s entire desires like a glutton – but there was another taste in the air. A lust that did not belong to the gasping and moaning woman whose eyes could not stay open as pleasure itself consumed her.

Haarlep’s gaze drifted to the door, wondering if the cambion would be so foolish as to walk right in during the middle of the act. Now that might make this interesting…yet no footsteps graced the halls, and it was time to end the game with their toy.

Careful hands traced along Eida’s heated body, laying her down on the sheets where her chest still heaved with the effort of breathing. “Shhh Little Duck, you have proven yourself to be most wonderful~” Haarlep’s lies were sweeter than honey trickling into her ear as they brushed the errant curls clinging to the sweat on her face.

“Did I—” she began, trying to find what was left of her mind to form a single question, “did I do—”

“You played your part perfectly – rest now, you have earned it,” they laid a cool sheet over her body, bringing with it the permission to sleep. Haarlep should be more careful, this was almost too far…but they had what they wanted, what they needed – a new body to toy with. Yet it was another body that was drawing their attention, the scent of Raphael’s arousal drifting in the air like steam from a freshly cooked meal, beckoning them to discover the source.

—

Raphael’s eyes were closed tightly, brows knit together in concentration, focus on a singular goal. It had slipped his notice that the ghosted double sensation had disappeared, so when he felt a claw against his cheek he was more than a little startled.

“Poor thing,” Haarlep crooned, soothing him quickly despite the strength with which their hand pressed his shoulder down to the bed to prevent him from rising, “and it was such a simple affair with that one too, to have you so riled up—”

“Silence, Harlot, you forget yourself,” he hissed through gritted teeth, anger flaring despite several of his fingers that had yet to leave their lustful work below, “this is not the Boudoir, you have no power here.”

“And here I was thinking to help my poor Master find a little relief~” Haarlep made a dramatic show of looking utterly offended as they stood up and began to turn away. “Well, I shall return to my abode then, and leave you to—”

“Wait.” A weak voice for what should have been a strong command, Raphael could almost see their smirk spreading across the mirror of his lips despite the incubus still facing away from him. “I demand that you…you…”

“That I what, Archduke?” The title added to the insult as so often it did, yet the cambion’s frayed nerves prevented him from further rebuking the incubus. “That I lay with you? That I show you far greater pleasures than the mortal that yet sleeps in your bed – quite thoroughly convinced that you took her yourself, I might add – and give you everything you keep denying yourself?”

“No,” he shook his head, though almost regretted the decision as a flash of the deal’s formation crossed his mind, “not…entirely. Just your hands will suffice.”

—

Haarlep licked their lips and considered the offer – they didn’t need to feed on him, this would be a mere dessert, a small mint after a meal in mortal terms. Perhaps it might warm him to the idea of more in the days that followed… Either way, doing the devil a favour would mean a debt owed for a later date. That was priceless.

“Very well,” they made another dramatic show of sighing as they finally turned around, tail swishing lazily through the air behind them, “that should be more than enough to bring you a little relief to your problem.”

Raphael was frowning again, small wrinkles forming where his brow met the bridge of his nose. “The problem, as well you know, is you and your deal—”

“Our deal, lest you forget that part.” Haarlep climbed onto the bed again, picking up the oil and slicking both hands thoroughly. “The details of which you were well aware of when we both signed. If you’d rather, I could use my own form, or that of another, for your clients—” “No.” Raphael snapped, even as he withdrew his fingers from his quivering hole. “I will simply have to grow accustomed to the particulars…”

“Then I suggest you make more arrangements to that effect. That,” they began to slide a single claw inside him, breathing in the taste of his lust as he arched into the simple touch, “will make this much easier for you.”

The cambion bit his lip a moment, taking a grip of the silk sheets in balled fists as Haarlep began to ease him open to their ministrations. He seemed almost lost in his thoughts for a minute, before voicing them aloud. “Have you had an arrangement like this before?”

Haarlep might have been offended at the casual conversation whilst teasing the cambion’s body, but the question was at least one that entertained them. “One where I take the form of my Master and plunge my fingers deep within his body?”

A snarl began to form on Raphael’s face at the blunt terms, yet the expression was driven quickly back by a curl of fingers finding their target. Almost too easy…

“No, I can’t say that I have,” they continued, as their other hand took hold of his length, grip sliding from base to tip as they talked as casually as one might over drinks with an acquaintance. “I have, naturally, taken the forms of others and allowed them to share the pleasures of the connection between us, but never to pose as them entirely.”

—

Raphael struggled to keep his focus as he listened to Haarlep’s reply, and the lines carefully unspoken between their words. He had never given much thought to the particulars of incubi and their kind, yet that had also never been necessary. Even as they brought him carefully to a climax that frayed the edges of his consciousness, their tail winding around his wrist almost supportively as he sought something to ground him, the thoughts persisted.

The incubus gave little away, working quietly now to clean them both with a hot scented cloth – a pool might need to be added to this room, too, if this were to become a common occurrence. Their tail remained on his arm, a soft pressure, a welcome warmth as he allowed himself room for more quiet contemplation through pleasure’s sweet afterglow.

Sex was clearly different for Haarlep, more akin to food and necessity than simple pleasure for pleasure’s sake alone, nor was it a piece on the Lanceboard table or chip to trade for a contract. To satisfy them – in any sense of the word – would be no easy task. Their presence as they lay next to him on the bed, sated, it seemed, for now, he found himself appreciating their weight beside him. A notion he swiftly dismissed as one brought about by the aftermath of the climax and nothing more, yet he did nothing to ask them to leave.

—

The silence was comfortable for a while, though the questions had been an unexpected needle to Haarlep’s memories. Mephistopheles may have stripped them of name and identity, but their recollections were entirely intact.

“Why did you agree to it?” They finally broke the stillness of the air with a question of their own, turning their head to observe the cambion’s reaction as he remained seemingly transfixed by some particularly interesting point on the ceiling. “This part of the deal hardly seems to be your preference.”

Raphael’s free hand pushed the loose strands of hair back from his forehead as he replied. “Only a fool ignores a potential advantage when it strolls into his home.”

“An advantage?” Haarlep laughed, taking mock offence at the suggestion. “And here I thought we were partners in a favourable deal~”

“An advantageous alliance then,” Raphael was clearly carefully avoiding acknowledging a partnership, “for as long as you prove yourself to be useful.”

Another needle from his words, but this time to their pride. The prick stung, and they released his wrist, withdrawing their tail from his grasp. “I should say the same of you,” they turned away, wings curling around their body as if to shield themselves from any further spikes from his lips, “lest you forget my other contract and all it promised.”

—

Raphael sighed. They were right, he should be more careful how he treated them - careless words could sign a warrant for his head from his own infernal father. He glanced down at his now empty hand, no crimson tail within his fingers, nothing but a chasm of space in the mere few inches between the two.

“Haarlep,” he began, noting how their wings twitched at the use of the name he had given instead of the insulting rhyme he most often used now, “you have my word, you will find my contract far more rewarding than anything that arrogant bastard could ever offer. Selling you so cheaply was his mistake, and one I will not be repeating.”

Silence followed, but it mattered little. There was no need to reply, all that was required was patience – something that was common amongst devils like himself with millennia of lifespan to allow plans to come to fruition. This was just one more brick in the foundation.

Rather than trying to shuffle beneath the covers, a swift spell brought a fresh sheet to cover them both as Raphael decided that there was little point fighting the fatigue spreading through every fibre of his being. The debtor would attend to the guest asleep in the boudoir later, shuffling her back where she belonged so she could play her part in time. Just another brick.

It wasn’t until morning, however, that Raphael noticed the tail wrapped around his leg – though in truth it was a little less obvious than the horns resting against his head as the incubus had curled up against him, wings around them like a cloak.

- - ENDING NOTES - - The next chapter is coming soon! Already halfway written as we dive into what lays behind a certain incubus' closed eyelids in the time that passes for "night" in Avernus~ and of course Raphael can only avoid sleeping with them fully for so long...

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 raphael #haarlep #the scent of cinnamon #fanfic #bg3 #Spotify

6 notes · View notes