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moonbeamwritings · 4 years

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“i’ve never seen you in a sweatshirt before”

Summary: Bruno is the epitome of elegance and grace. Always dressed to the nines, hair always perfectly styled. One night, while you’re thinking about just how bad you have it for him, you see him in a sweatshirt for the very first time.

Author’s Note: This is entirely self-indulgent! I just think it’s cute to think about Bruno and company in comfy clothes for once. Enjoy!

Bruno Bucciarati was a man of elegance, grace, and calculated intelligence. You often envied his capacity for compassion, well, as much as one could offer as a mafioso. He was sweet, criminal activity be damned.

You were drawn to him as soon as you first met him. Kind, understanding, and welcoming all when you needed it the most. You were down on your luck back then, coaxed into a criminal lifestyle with the promise of a famiglia, of something to call your own.

It was strange, really, to reflect on your experiences with your friends. You’d complied with Polpo’s orders, betrayed the boss, and fell into stride with Giorno’s new leadership in an eight day whirlwind of anxiety and enemies. Months later, it seemed that everything had slipped into some semblance of normalcy.

You were resting in bed, your window thrown open to allow the cool, Italian breeze to drift through your curtains. You felt like you hadn’t seen Bruno in weeks, him being so wrapped up in working alongside Giorno that you’d barely been able to even speak to him. The thought made you frown. Against your better judgment, you harbored much more than friendship in your heart for the black-haired mafioso, all the while knowing that he’d never view you in the same way. You shifted your gaze to the ceiling, falling back against your bed as your book laid forgotten in your lap.

He was just so handsome, not to mention calming to be around. Could you really be blamed for missing him? For developing feelings for him? You thought not.

Groaning, you tried to get your mind away from him, to put your brain to use for something other than picturing his laugh or the way he smiled.

“It’s hopeless,” you spoke aloud, “I’m doomed.”

Losing yourself in your thoughts as you traced invisible patterns on your ceiling, you started to drift to sleep.

CRASH!

You shot awake, shifting over to glance at your clock.

For the love of God.

3:00 AM.

With a groan, you opted to at least go down and take a look. If it was one of the guys, then no harm done and you could go back to sleep. If it was someone else… Well, you’d cross that bridge when you got there.

On your way down, another noise sounded from the kitchen followed by frantic shushing, emphasized by the silence that the night brought to the house.

Rounding the corner, you rolled your eyes as they landed on Mista, hunched in front of the fridge like a little rat. To make the situation all the more ridiculous, you caught Narancia scurrying over to fling the pantry door open as well.

“Uhhh, hey guys,” you greeted, leaning against the doorway.

The pair looked over at you as if you’d just caught a couple of raccoons in your garbage can.

“I told you we’d wake someone up, you dipshit,” Narancia hissed at him, reaching over to try and smack at Mista’s shoulder.

Mista reacted almost immediately, scowl highlighted by the soft light of the fridge, “Shut up! You were the one dropping shit.”

“What are you doing up anyway?” You asked, moving to take a seat at the kitchen table.

“Playing video games.”

The reply was brief and in unison as the boys dug around for the food they wanted.

You let out a noise of vague approval, nodding your head despite knowing neither of them were looking at you. The room fell into relative silence, marked by the sounds of bags and containers being moved around. Before long, another set of soft footsteps came from the hallway.

“No,” Narancia whined, “if that’s Fugo, I’m dead.”

“What’s with all the noise?”

The light was flicked on.

It was most certainly not Fugo.

Bruno loomed in the doorway, face slightly rosy and decorated with faint lines. From his pillow, you thought. His usually immaculately styled hair was ruffled, gold clips nowhere to be seen. What struck you, though, was his sweatshirt.

The sweatshirt was light grey, a little too big to the point that the sleeves hung loosely over his hands, and it looked soft to boot. Wow, you thought, that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

In the entire time that you’d known him, you’d never seen Bruno in anything other than his favorite white suit. A combination of him having a habit of working late most nights and you disappearing into your room to unwind before bed. Now, to see him with that sleepy look on his face in one of the comfiest sweatshirts you’d ever laid eyes on? God help you. You fell deeper in love, if that was even possible.

“Mista and I were hungry,” Narancia spoke up first.

“They woke me up.”

You were surprised you could even speak. Your face suddenly felt far too hot and you had to force yourself to peel your eyes away from Bruno’s form.

His eyes shifted away from Mista and Narancia to smile softly at you, “Ah, I see. Well, please keep it down. You two are lucky it was just us.”

He let out a chuckle as he gestured between you and himself, clearly thinking about how much worse the situation would have been had Abbacchio or Fugo stormed down the stairs and started raging in the kitchen.

Mista let out a loud breath, “You’re telling us. Sorry, Bucciarati.”

With a shake of his head, Bruno held up a hand, waving off the situation altogether, “No need, just try to be quiet.”

His eyes moved over to you, “Heading back upstairs?”

You had to blink a few times before you could muster a quiet, “Oh uh yeah,” in response.

He waited for you to push the chair back in and make your way over to him before turning to climb the stairs, bidding the two rats in the kitchen a quiet goodnight. You said the same as you followed behind him.

Your words got caught in your throat as you stopped in front of your own bedroom door, eyes following Bruno as he continued down the hallway.

He looked back at you, shooting you a look of utter displeasure, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To bed?”

“Come sit up with me, if you’re not too tired,” he offered, holding an arm out with a flourish as he opened his bedroom door.

How could you say no to that?

You padded down the hall, entering Bruno’s bedroom and standing to one side as he followed you in.

“You can sit, you know. I don’t bite.”

You reluctantly plopped yourself down, teetering dangerously close to the side of his bed to make sure you kept your distance.

“Come here. What did I just say?”

His voice was all teasing, words marked by a low chuckle as he furiously patted the spot right next to him. You end up sitting shoulder to shoulder against the headboard, so close that all you could focus on was him.

You had it bad.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while. I’m sorry I’ve been busy,” He started, leaning his head back against the wall.

You found yourself smiling before you could stop it, easily slipping into conversation with him despite your nerves, “It’s alright. I get it.”

“Mm, but still.”

There’s something he’s not saying, a dual meaning hanging in the air. For fear of getting your hopes up, you desperately tried to explain it away as you played with your fingers.

“Don’t apologize.”

He began to ask about what you’d been up to in his absence, eager to listen to you regardless of the sleep he’d lose in doing so. You indulged him, as you always did, telling him about the new book you’d been reading and the day out you’d had with Trish a few days earlier.

“I missed you, though.” You offered in conclusion, wrapping up your little report with a small smile.

“Really?” He asked, looking over at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Heh, yeah. I know, it’s kinda dumb.”

“No no,” he was quick to say, “I missed you too.”

You nodded as the room fell into a weird silence. It wasn’t necessarily awkward, but it was nowhere near comfortable either.

“I’ve never seen you in a sweatshirt before.” You decided to say, eager to dispel the strange energy in the room.

“Really?” Came his immediate, incredulous answer.

“Yeah,” you stressed, letting out a playful giggle at his tone of voice, “Never.”

“Huh. I’ve never thought of it before, but I guess you’re right. Do you like it?”

The words came out before you could stop them, “It’s kinda strange honestly… Not in a bad way! It’s cute, don’t get me wrong! I’m just not used to it!”

You snapped your mouth shut as you realized you’d really just called him cute, and to his face no less.

“Cute?” you could practically hear the smile in his voice, “I like the sound of that.”

“I didn’t mean-” You frantically attempted to save face.

Bruno’s laugh interrupted you, effectively shutting you up, “Hey, it’s alright. Thank you.”

You glanced over at him to find him already looking at you, a stupid smile on his face.

“Don’t-” you sighed, embarrassment heating up your face, “Don’t look at me like that.”

His smile only seemed to widen, making your heart thump erratically in your chest, “And you’re calling me cute? You really are something else.”

“What are you-”

He reached up, taking your face in his hands, the softest look you’d ever seen gracing his features, “I think you know what I mean tesoro, you must.”

He sounded desperate, eyes glistening in the moonlight.

You would willingly drown in his eyes from this distance, feeling like a sailor adrift at sea falling prey to an alluring siren song, gripping your very soul to pull you in closer.

He kissed you before your mind could even catch up, completely hypnotizing you with the softness of his lips, the warmth of his hands. You lifted a hand to his chest, fisting at his sweatshirt to drag him even further toward you.

You both pulled away, breathless and warm, refusing to let go of one another. He nuzzled his nose against yours, so close that you could feel his smile, “I love you.”

You’re still breathless, your hand on his sweatshirt and his breath on your face the only things keeping you grounded, “I love you too, Bruno.”

He kissed you again, short and sweet. A simple peck before pulling away to rest his forehead against yours, face still gently held in his hands.

#bruno buccellati x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno buccellati imagine #bruno bucciarati imagine #jjba x reader #jjba imagine

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mortispoxi · 4 years

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BBC America’s The Watch Episode Six Review: The Dark in the Dark

Episode Review list: one, two, three, four, five, seven, eight

Hey everyone! As many of you already know, my name is Mortis, and this is my thoughts and review of BBC America’s The Watch episode six: The Dark in the Dark. If you have stumbled upon this series for the first time and would like to read the previous episode reviews, I have linked them accordingly above. And I must always remind any newcomers that I have chosen different names for the show characters because there was so much change done to their original characters, they no longer represent their book counterparts. No changes for this week, so let’s get started.

Oh! A quick heads up to anyone who wants to watch episode six (for whatever reason), be warned that at several points in the episode strobe effects are used without warning so if you are epileptic or just light sensitive please refrain from watching this episode.

(Spoilers ahead for The Dark in the Dark)

Episode Recap:

I have officially lost the plot of this show. In the last few episodes, The Watch has zig zagged around its half-finished storyline so many times that I know longer understand what direction it is trying to go in. It has become so incomprehensible that I struggled to get through episode six without saying, “What?” every five minutes. I will do my best to recap this episode’s story but know that I was very confused by the end of it and honestly do not know what the writers were trying to convey.

The episode begins with Virgin (Urdo von Pew, Head of the Thieves Guild) being incinerated by the dragon while this shitty Instagram-like filter that makes people’s photos look like works of art or oil paintings is overlaid on top of the scene (It really hurt my eyes to look at, I squinted through most of it). Turns out, this was just the video an iconograph had captured and was now being looked at by members of the watch in order to figure out the whereabouts of Virgin. In the previous episode, Lady Vetinari (Lord Havelock Vetinari) basically told them to start a war by arresting anyone who aided Gang Leader Carcer (Carcer Dun) which led the watch to this large pile of ash that presumably was Virgin nearby the iconograph. Supermodel Sybil (Lady Sybil Ramkin) who was watching the playback feed on the iconograph realizes that the imp inside must have been bribed by someone to paint a different scenario to explain away Virgin’s disappearance. Realizing that this is a major exploitable flaw, the watch agrees to take the imp in for questioning…well not exactly question since all we ever see are members of the watch threatening to do bodily harm to all their captives.

Side Note! At no point in the episode is it explained where Virgin is or if he’s already dead. In episode five, he was beaten half to death by GL Carcer, strapped to a device that would essentially turn his brain to soup, and then left out in the desert. It is unclear whether this man is still wandering around in the desert or if he was picked up by the Assassins’ Guild for reasons I will soon get into.

Supermodel Sybil then turns to Tall Cheery (Cheery Littlebottom) and tells her to explain to Raccoon Vimes (Samuel Vimes) what she knows about the phrase the dark in the dark so that they can find the next artefact.

Speaking of doing bodily harm to people who deserve human decency, it cuts back to the watch house where Paw Patrol Angua (Angua von Uberwald) is enthusiastically assaulting two of the thieves that had helped GL Carcer get the sword. She tells them that they should be afraid of her (which is kind of hard to do when she looks like a small child suffering from rickets) but they continue to refuse to talk. Apparently, the watch is running out of room to put prisoners as they continue to arrest and interrogate the people possibly involved with GL Carcer (which unless they can present circumstantial evidence that the person was there to aid a known criminal, this counts as a false arrest which is illegal). Paw Patrol Angua refuses to give up the cell she occupies when she transforms, reiterating to the audience again that she only sees herself as a monster who will hurt people since she cannot control her powers. On top of insisting the prisoners be treated with basic human decency, Baby Carrot (Carrot Ironfounderson) reminds PP Angua that they also need to keep everyone in separate prison cells to keep them from conspiring with one another. Not liking the fact that her prisoners have human rights, Paw Patrol Angua pulls out a knife and threatens to cut out the prisoner’s tongues if they tried speaking with each other. Realizing that she’s serious about causing them physical harm and disfigurement, the two thieves cave and tell her that GL Carcer got rid of them the moment Wayne the talking sword was in his hands. I’d just like to remind the audience that this goes well beyond police brutality into actual war crime territory because if she went through with it, Paw Patrol Angua would be in violation of Article Three of the Geneva Conventions (taking hostages and threatening torture/mutilation for noncompliance).

Seeing how they got the answers they wanted, they decide to figure out where to move all the prisoners. Baby Carrot uses this moment when Paw Patrol Angua is distracted by the blueprints of the prison to stare at the tattoo on the back of her neck. Weirded out that he is staring at her, she’s like, “dude what the fuck are you staring at?” and Baby Carrot awkwardly mentions that she can replace her old clan tattoo with a new one that symbolizes the watch. They quickly move on from this subject and start rearranging prisoners like they’re playing musical chairs. Before Baby Carrot leaves, the thief known as Brian informs him that their boss will break them out and that it’s only a matter of time before she shows up. What a stupid fucking thing to say to a police officer. He literally tells the people who are guarding him and his colleagues that there is going to be a prison break soon which puts the watch on high alert. Should’ve kept your big mouth shut Brian, you pea brained troglodyte! An asshole full of knuckles is what you’re gonna get if someone finds out it was you who snitched motherfucker!

Cut forward a bit and Wizard Wonse (Lupine Wonse) is using her pet pigeons to spy on the watch’s activities. But in the meantime, Baby Carrot tells Raccoon Vimes and co that the watch house is about to be attacked. Raccoon Vimes hypothesizes that it could be Bobby Worst (Dr. Cruces) who is coming to free the locked-up thieves. Since the disappearance of Virgin, Bobby Worst seems to be adamant about combining and leading both the Assassins and Thieves Guild in order to make her powerful enough to take on Lady Vetinari. Apparently, the guilds, or at least just the Assassins and Thieves Guilds, want to overthrow Lady Vetinari so that they can take full control of Ankh-Morpork. Not exactly sure why since it’s not entirely explained other than because drama. So, realizing they’re about to have a showdown with some top-level assassins, Raccoon Vimes makes the brilliant decision to send the watch’s best fighters out to retrieve the next artefact while he and Supermodel Sybil stay behind to stand guard.

Tall Cheery takes Baby Carrot and Paw Patrol Angua down to her workshop where she nervously explains that the next artefact is a crown located in her home mine called Tak where she escaped from five years ago. The child goblin called Spike the watch stole-I MEAN-took in is still hanging around doing chores and I only mention them because they become important later in the episode (for the dumbest reason possible, trust me). Tall Cheery tells them that she promised to never go back because the Summoning Dark took her mother from her after she refused to wear a false beard. I’m just going to go ahead and explain that Tall Cheery and the other dwarves of Tak Mine believe that things like gender expression is what lures in the darkness. Being different, more accurately those who refuse to present themselves as male/have facial hair, is the thing that everyone thinks the Summoning Dark takes people away for. Tall Cheery essentially confirms that in the show a gender binary already exists within dwarf society:

“That’s how we keep the dark away. You can’t be yourself down there. You have to be the same. Man, or woman, everyone has to be the same.”

This entire concept is lost on me since it blatantly disregards the struggles Cheery went through in the books to establish a gender binary in dwarf culture only for the show writers to say all dwarves appear male (i.e. having facial hair) because appearing feminine is dangerous since it attracts a supernatural entity that haunts the mines. Anyway, since she knows her way around the Tak Mine, she tags along with them in order to get to the next relic. She puts on her old false beard she keeps in a tin box (call back to episode five) and informs them that they too have to wear facial hair so they can blend in with the other dwarves. Seeing that neither Baby Carrot nor PP Angua have facial hair nor the ability to grow some in two seconds, they turn the jail into a Build-a-Beard workshop by slicing off hair from the prisoner’s to fashion into wearable facial hair.

Meanwhile, back at GL Carcer’s hide away, Wizard Wonse’s spy pigeons she had sent to the watch house return and inform her where the next relic is. Seeing that they don’t have much time to lose, Wizard Wonse smears some magic shit on her and GL Carcer’s face that gives the illusion that they are high ranking dwarves who can be entrusted with the crown. They get to the mines first and steal the crown but continue to hang around the place waiting for the watch to show up so they can attempt stealing the third and final component they need to control the dragon.

They aren’t even two steps over the property line when they are outnumbered and apprehended by the dwarves who popped out of nowhere to grab them (so much for their plan to blend in). Out of the mine comes Tall Cheery’s ex-Spike whom Tall Cheery left behind when escaping the mine. Tall Cheery asks to speak to her father, since she is the only child of the senior mining engineer making it her birthright to become the leader, but ex-Spike calls her a slur in dwarfish and confirms that he is the new chief. Tall Cheery begs for his help which he of course laughs at, but after informing him that they need to be let in by order of Lady Vetinari, ex-Spike gladly allows them down into the mines to retrieve the crown. On their journey downwards, Tall Cheery talks briefly with her ex about how she should’ve gone back for him and wonders why he doesn’t hate her for abandoning him. Well, apparently Tall Cheery isn’t completely over her ex because her clouded judgment missed the obvious warning signs that ex-Spike was leading them directly into a trap. When they get to the temple chamber where the crown is being kept, they find that it’s gone from its pedestal causing some confusion amongst the watch members. Confusion turns to shock when GL Carcer and Wizard Wonse jump out yelling, “Surprise! We got to the crown first!” and all three watchmen are quickly captured.

Meanwhile, back at the watch house, Raccoon Vimes is shoving furniture in front of the entryway to block anyone from coming in or out. Supermodel Sybil wanders up with her tiny pet dragon Goodboy who, she explains, is going to help them burn any intruder that comes in there alive. He is of course terrified of the prospect, so she reassures him by giving him a special dragon whistle that he can blow on if things go south. This triggers another flashback memory (LIKE WE ALREADY HAVEN’T HAD ENOUGH OF THOSE) where he sees his future self wearing the exact same whistle around his neck while together with Supermodel Sybil.

Side Note! You would think that Supermodel Sybil should keep it on her person since she’s going to be the one wielding her tiny dragon like a flamethrower, not Raccoon Vimes. Does she want him to have it so that if Goodboy backfires into her, he can blow the whistle and have the little dragon do the exact same thing to him? Who knows, and at this point, who cares…

Supermodel Sybil and Raccoon Vimes then stand around like a couple of dipshits expectantly waiting for the assassins, who are currently behind them propelling downwards from the ceiling, to just waltz in through the front entrance that they completely blocked up for some UNGODLY REASON. Honestly, I expected nothing less from a captain with extensive brain damage and his companion who is borderline psychotic. Only the finest joins the watch! Anyway, Bobby Worst and her motley crew of psychopaths make themselves known by demanding the keys to the cells. As mentioned before, once she releases the imprisoned thieves, she plans to lead a newly formed super-guild with her newfound allies in order to overpower and overthrow Lady Vetinari.

Raccoon Vimes tries to one-up her by explaining that he has evidence in the form of the imp who Bobby Worst bribed to edit in Virgin’s death. He really needs to learn to keep his big mouth shut because the little girl Alice from episode three goes over to the iconograph and crushes the head of the imp like a grape. Now they have no evidence of Bobby Worst’s wrongdoing and are being stared down by four highly trained assassins with their only means of escape cut off (good job on that one Raccoon Vimes!). Supermodel Sybil tries to be a hero by raising Goodboy up and telling the dragon to incinerate them. However, Goodboy is like “Hell fucking nah,” and refuses to use its fiery breath. With no more options left, they speed off towards the prison to lock themselves in Tall Cheery’s storage room, where they also happened to have moved Accountant Skimmer (Inigo Skimmer), subsequently trapping themselves once more.

Let’s get back to what’s going on in Tak Mine real quick. Since GL Carcer and Wizard Wonse used cloaking magic on themselves, they managed to convince the dwarves that if they have the crown then the world above will burn but things will be fine below ground. So now, with the second to last relic underarm, they do that thing villains do where they explain just enough of their plan to further the plot but not all of it to give everything away. Wizard Wonse, as it turns out, figured out that Carrot is the third and final component they need so they take him with them. As they waltz off, Paw Patrol Angua and Tall Cheery are chained to pedestals in the ground and have their beards ripped off by ex-Spike who is still salty over Tall Cheery leaving him. Tall Cheery tries to appeal to ex-Spike’s better nature by telling him about how she named a goblin who saved her and her friends after him. Ex-Spike just gives her this look like, “Why the fuck does that even matter?” and skedaddles away.

Here’s the part where things get really weird, not as weird as what happens near the end of the episode but still pretty weird. With their beards gone, the Summoning Dark is alerted to their presence and starts to close in while Tall Cheery freaks out. She tells Paw Patrol Angua about her mother who was also taken by the darkness after she shaved her beard and started to question things. Eventually, the Summoning Dark does show up and absorbs Tall Cheery into itself. As it turns out, this supernatural force isn’t malevolent at all and is instead this like…how to even describe it…this force that’s powered by multiverse theory and gender dysphoria? I’m really unsure about what exactly it is, but it’s definitely NOT the Summoning Dark we see in the books. When Tall Cheery wakes up inside of it, she sees herself in different outfits that are quickly confirmed to be her alternative selves in different timelines across the multiverse. She stumbles across her mother, who is just casually hanging out in there, and they have a heart to heart about how the Summoning Dark is a benevolent ally. This whole time Tall Cheery’s mother has been zooming around the multiverse watching all the branching timelines and alternative universes that APPARENTLY the darkness is privy to access because it’s magic or something. She rejects the notion of returning to Tall Cheery’s timeline by saying something along the lines of, “why would I go back when I have all these worlds to explore?” Tall Cheery’s mother chooses to stay because the Summoning Dark helped her, and now her daughter, become her genuine self.

Side Note! I find it wonderfully fucked up that out of all the people the Summoning Dark has taken, Tall Cheery is the only one to return and tell everyone that it’s not actually evil. By this logic, this means Tall Cheery’s mom saw her child and husband openly grieve her loss and she went “I don’t fucking care, I’m out bitches!” and NEVER MADE CONTACT AGAIN! Her mother DELIBERATELY chose this weird ass supernatural force over her own family because it gave her magic powers to see through time and space! Literally anyone who got taken could’ve gone back at any time, but I guess they all collectively went “NOPE!” and let their community live in fear of an entity that they were now fucking around with.

Point is, the Summoning Dark is now Cheery’s ally (she’s got the mark on her arm and everything) and as a result she has superpowers that can help break them out of Tak Mine.

Side Note! Technically, I guess Tall Cheery’s mom is with her all the time now because she exists within the Summoning Dark that now resides in Tall Cheery. She’s inside her mother if you will.

Further down the mineshaft, Wizard Wonse is talking about how back in the day the artefacts were created to unify the ruling class by creating the ability to control a Noble Dragon. This included the grimoire for the wizards, sword for the assassins, helmet/crown for the dwarves, and a king with octarine in their veins. GL Carcer knows that Baby Carrot is a king’s descendant because he’s seen him be crowned in the future (Swear to god if this series ends by making Ankh-Morpork a monarchy…). Baby Carrot is flabbergasted by the notion that he could be king and attempts to rally with Wayne the talking sword to go against the whole idea. Wayne is in the background going off about how Baby Carrot should fuck Angua before GL Carcer shushes it. No, I will not include further context. Anyway, GL Carcer informs Baby Carrot that even if he’s crowned king, GL Carcer is still going to theoretically be the one in power if he has Baby Carrot’s blood. According to the inscription written on the crown, those who possess blood containing high levels of octarine, the Discworld’s eighth color, are the ones who can take control of the Noble Dragon. So essentially, GL Carcer is planning to use Baby Carrot as his own private blood bank in order to burn Ankh-Morpork to the ground.

Incoming rant- Since GL Carcer has gone back in time to enact his dastardly plan to destroy the world, wouldn’t he have known what all the artefacts were? I mean, he did say he saw Baby Carrot as king controlling the dragon in the future so I would assume that he happened to also see the sword and crown. So why in the hell is he going off about not knowing about all the relics and needing help from Wizard Wonse? This just seems like a major plot hole the writers glossed over.

With Tall Cheery’s newfound superpowers, she quickly catches up to GL Carcer by teleporting herself and Paw Patrol Angua around to knock out the guards. However, before she can formally arrest GL Carcer, the Observers (the Auditors of Reality) step in by teleporting both GL Carcer and Wizard Wonse away to prevent their capture. I’ll catch up on what happens to them in a bit, but for right now let’s get back into the scene. Tall Cheery wanders up to her ex who is cowering in the dark and tells him that he has no need to fear the Summoning Dark because it helps them be anything they want to be if they allow themselves to embrace it. I don’t know why she thinks it’s so funny that he’s scared because not even a minute ago she was terrified of the Summoning Dark. Now she’s acting all surprised the dwarves who live in this mine all their lives and were taught that this thing is evil are scared? Ugh, anyway, Tall Cheery requests that ex-Spike start a revolution by going back into the mines to spread the word to everyone that it’s ok to be different. Tall Cheery then proves to us yet again that she’s only partly over her ex because she makes out with him for a bit before she remembers that he literally tried to kill her and her friends twice.

Back at the watch house, the assassins are closing in on Raccoon Vimes and Supermodel Sybil. They found keys to unlock the prisoners but for some reason that same key ring can’t open Tall Cheery’s storage room, so they have to find another way in. Inside the storage room, things are already tense because Accountant Skimmer is locked in a room with Supermodel Sybil who still holds a massive grudge against him for murdering her parents twenty years ago. Raccoon Vimes does his best to keep the peace by keeping Supermodel Sybil engaged and distracted. She asks Raccoon Vimes what else he saw in the future which makes him blush so hard both Accountant Skimmer and Supermodel Sybil think something is wrong with him (there is but it’s not related to his skin condition). Supermodel Sybil proceeds to pull out a tin of moisturizer and slather it all over his face because that will help somehow. Anyway, Bobby Worst and her gang are hanging around outside the locked door threatening the watchmen to release Accountant Skimmer into their custody because she wants them alive for some stupid reason. To make the already volatile situation in the storage room go nuclear, Bobby Worst starts talking directly to Supermodel Sybil about how Accountant Skimmer would brag about how easy it was for him to inhume her parents. Agitated, Supermodel Sybil demands the keys from Raccoon Vimes so that she can personally throw Accountant Skimmer to the wolves on the other side of the door. Raccoon Vimes is dead set against this plan, even though she’s damn near ready to murder both of them, stating that they need to keep him safe under their custody since they “hold the line.” This whole thing is just a distraction to give Alice enough time to dig out Accountant Skimmers escape tunnel so she can wiggle into the storage room that is connected to the opposite side of the cell wall. Bobby Worst played Supermodel Sybil’s emotions like a fiddle because as they’re arguing about throwing Accountant Skimmer out, Alice appears out from behind a row of mannequins making everyone piss their pants and unlock the door to get out…into Bobby Worst’s awaiting entourage.

Bobby Worst gives them one chance to tell her where and what the artefacts are so that she too can control the dragon and make her takeover of the government all the more easier. They of course refuse to tell her anything, but before Bobby Worst can strike, Tall Cheery walks in wearing a flashy red dress and does another MOTHERFUCKING DANCE NUMBER! I absolutely hated this part but all you need to know is that Tall Cheery’s little song and dance sucked off (hehe) Bobby Worst and her gang into another dimension or something by using the Summoning Dark. So, Bobby Worst is just straight up gone now, and I guess since both the Assassin’s and Thieves Guild leaders have disappeared, either the main guilds might completely fall apart, or Lady Vetinari will have new leadership installed.

Cutting ahead a bit, we see Paw Patrol Angua, Tall Cheery, and Baby Carrot sitting around the workshop as Tall Cheery extracts blood from Baby Carrots arm. She is testing to see if what GL Carcer said is true and that his blood does have octarine in it making him the true heir to the throne. Baby Carrot is going on and on about how he believed he was the weakest link of the group and that being confirmed as a king was going to prove his worth somehow. Well as it turns out, he has no octarine in his blood after the test comes back negative. He huffs and puffs about not being special like he thought he was and stomps off to go sulk somewhere. The show then blatantly goes *points at Raccoon Vimes* Who is it that the third artefact alludes to?! *points at Raccoon Vimes* Who could it possibly beeeeeeeee~!? *points at Raccoon Vimes*

Skipping to the end, GL Carcer and Wizard Wonse are once again condemned by the Observers for failing them yet again. They touch on how in every timeline, Raccoon Vimes rises up, stops the dragon, and falls in love with Supermodel Sybil. Apparently, there is no timeline where he doesn’t get together with her which is weird and not how multiverse theory works. Wizard Wonse then makes it abundantly clear that she’s the one who wears the pants in this relationship because she manages to convince the Observers to give the worst version of Raccoon Vimes that exists in all the alternative universes to her so that she can brainwash him into murdering this timeline’s Supermodel Sybil. Which I’m sure is going to be barrels of fun next episode.

Episode Review:

I’m always hesitant when I get to this part of the post because I realized over the last several weeks that I’ve been repeating myself about how shoddy the writing is in each episode. But here’s the thing, the reason I say the same things over and over again is because nothing has changed. Each week’s episode neither improves nor declines in quality (ok it definitely had moments of sharp decline I’m not going to deny that, but I’m referring to the actual writing) as the writers continue to experience the exact same short comings every single time. I cannot tell what this show wants to be because it never fully commits to being one thing. It constantly ping pongs between being gritty, to comedic, to melodrama, to romantic, then back again. Sometimes they mix it up a bit and make it an edgy romantic comedy! This show can barely sustain itself on its own writing merits. If you drained away all the Discworld related content to see what the underlying plot is, you’d find a half-finished script with a plotline blander than flour. Being called a Discworld adaption is the life support that is keeping this parasitic show alive. Without Discworld being unfairly attached to it, it would be just another lackluster cop show drowning in the sea of law enforcement related programs currently on television.

I want to now get into the specifics that concerned me when watching The Dark in the Dark. Primarily, I want to talk about how this Cheery centric episode managed to untactfully tackle issues like gender identity. As many already know, Cheery Littlebottom helped many dwarves dealing with gender dysphoria come into themselves when she herself broke dwarf social norms by proudly identifying as female. Overtime, the idea that dwarves can be more than one gender began to spread and eventually Ankh-Morpork became a sort of safe haven where dwarves could exist as whatever gender they identified as without fear of retaliation like they might’ve experienced in their home mountains. The Watch, however, goes in the exact opposite direction by having what seems to be cisgender male and female dwarves all posing as male because they have been led to believe the Summoning Dark targets those who deviate from the norm. Expressing femininity is associated with fear and danger because those who question get swallowed up by the darkness. If the Summoning Dark wasn’t a thing in the mines then I highly doubt problems relating to gender expression, more specifically female gender expression since we don’t see the inverse occur, would not be a problem since the show makes it abundantly clear that there is a gender spectrum in dwarves society. We also don’t know if this is an isolated case or if the Summoning Dark lives in every dwarf mine making people fearful of shaving their beards. Either way, the episode seemingly tries to downplay Cheery’s identity and accomplishments in the books by having this convoluted plot about how a magic darkness that’s powered by gender dysphoria only went after female identifying dwarves for so long that the dwarves of Tak Mine developed societal transphobia out of fear of being consumed. Why the Summoning Dark started doing this in the first place is something only god knows but boy is it stupid. Anyway, at the end of the episode, Tall Cheery starts wearing her beard again. This could either be interpreted as her now identifying as nonbinary or that she considers herself a true dwarf again by embracing her old beard. Depending on whatever it was the writers intended, it still seems very tacky seeing how Cheery in the books is canonically a transgender woman while the show completely avoids labels and just calls her “different.”

Finally, I want to quickly touch on how this show continues to gloss over and even glorify police brutality. In the last several episodes, Paw Patrol Angua has been the one primarily perpetuating the violence against those the watch has arrested and it’s absolutely sickening. PP Angua even has this dialogue with Baby Carrot about how she still needs her designated cell because she’s still herself/a monster. The writers of The Watch are desperately trying to remind us that she doesn’t want to be seen as a monster but immediately turn around and make her character do monstrous things on her own volition to people who cannot defend themselves in that moment. In the books, the reason Angua left her family was because she did not want to become like her brother who harmed/killed indiscriminately because he saw himself as superior. To me at least, it seems the writers have conjoined both Angua and Wolfgang’s personalities and behaviors into the monstrosity that is Paw Patrol Angua in order to justify having her beat down prisoners. Even Baby Carrot isn’t innocent in all of this. Although he tries to say that prisoners should not be treated this way and wants Paw Patrol Angua to stop, partway through the episode PP Angua gets the thieves to talk which prompts Baby Carrot to acknowledge that violence works. The first six minutes of The Dark in the Dark is literally the writers conditioning its audience that police brutality is ok as long as they get the clues they need and stop the bad guy at the end of the day. In no context should police brutality against defenseless people should ever be justified! How do these people still not get this concept in this day and age!?

Now for the fun part of the review called...

Things that happened in The Dark in the Dark that made me scream like a goddamn banshee:

First rule of Thieves Guild school is no snitching motherfucker!

Can we stop with the fucking dance sequences!?

Angua can’t go two seconds without violating the Geneva Conventions and it shows

Did Cheery seriously name her slave pet goblin after her ex??

The Summoning Dark wants to trans your gender

Honorable Mentions:

Cheery might’ve inadvertently destroyed an entire mining industry and several trade deals by encouraging a revolution

I’m surprisingly ok with next episode’s subplot to murder Sybil because she’s honestly been a major bitch...

The bar is so low for this show that I actually thought things were starting to improve because the last three episodes put me in physical agony

#the watch reviews #not my watch #discworld #bbc the watch #bbc america the watch #bbc #review #no editing we die like men #mp

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hankwritten · 3 years

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Everyone Was Harmed in the Making of This Video

Demoman/Soldier, 1k

Request for RayenStormzDragon, Best Dads

It is very important to close your HVAC systems when not in use.

Soldier learned that the hard way, belly down in a vent that could barely fit him, making cooing noises at the mother raccoon who had only unkind things to say in response. Granted, since these were Soldier’s version of ‘cooing noises’, maybe that was to be expected. The animal was wedged dangerously close to heater, and if Soldier turned it on (as it was his responsibility since he technically owned the building he was squatting in) it’d fry her and her cubs to a crisp. Soldier was no stranger to the building’s many dangers (the occasional methane leak, the sparking boiler, the giant piles of rocket launcher ammo he just left lying around) but usually he tried to keep himself as the only victim of the apartment’s quirks, and not innocent procyonidaes.

“I am trying to help you!” he told her for the fifth time.

She hissed, and swatted his hand. Thankfully, after the eleventh time she’d bit him, he’d thought to put on oven mitts, and thus he only received a light thumping across his impromptu grabbers.

“Ma’am! I strongly suggest you watch your language!”

He’d have to try a different approach. He’d been attempting to remove the mother (as she seemed to be the biggest obstacle in his mission of vent de-obstruction) but maybe if he could nab the kids first she’d follow out after.

“…A wonderful day, isn’t it?” he said, very, very casually as he tried to scoot closer to the baby raccoons. “Very warm…very desert-y…Look a distraction!”

The raccoon did not look. Soldier lunged anyway, swooping underneath her and seizing a cub in each mitt, a cry of victory on his lips. She was, unsurprisingly, not pleased with this development.

“AAAAAaaargggllggrll!” Soldier’s victory screech turned to terror as thirty pounds of enraged fur threw itself at his face.

He went sliding backwards, feet desperately trying to find the ladder he had used to reach the vent in the first place. Find it they did, and his momentum sent the straight ladder teetering backward like a reverse pole-vault. As the ground rushed up to meet him, he did his darndest to keep the cubs tucked safe to his chest and shield them from the worst of the impact.

Unfortunately, the mother was not so lucky. The falling ladder acted like a pendulum and—untethered as she was—sent her flying across the room, screaming in pure fury. Even more unfortunately, she landed in one of the various rocket stockpiles.

The resulting FWOOM took out a good portion of the basement’s foundation.

When Soldier sat himself up, a raccoon cub in each hand, a smoking crater where the poor creature used to be, all he could say was:

“Dammit.”

“MEN!” Soldier shouted as he kicked in the base’s door. The door did not need to be kicked. It was not locked, nor even closed entirely, but kick it he did and found small delights in the way it slammed against the adjacent wall. “I am calling a TACTICAL TEAM MEETING. Everyone REPORT TO THE KITCHEN on the DOUBLE.”

“Soldier,” said Spy, who was the only one present in the kitchen and had to clench his coffee mug to keep it from rattling, “no.”

That was about everyone else’s summation too. “Soldier you can’t just bring wild animals on base,” Engie said once the team had gathered and he’d caught sight of the infant cradled in Soldier’s arms.

“They are orphaned! I cannot abandon them to the wilds!” Soldier said in what was definitely not a pout.

“They’re wild animals,” Spy replied, having moved almost entirely into the rec room and retreated into the folds of an armchair. “It is where they belong.”

“Where’d you even get these?” Engie examined them with a crease above his goggles. “Where’s their mother?”

“She exploded,” Soldier replied with no inflection.

“You know, that’s funny!” Medic said, “That just happened to-”

“Does not matter,” Heavy cut in. “Match is in fifteen minutes. We do not have time to babysit. None of us can help, Soldier.”

“Bit too late on that, mate,” Sniper said, and jerked a thumb in Demo’s direction.

In the corner, somehow having acquired one of the babies while no one was looking, the Demoman was bawling his eye out. Every few seconds the cub would mewl, Demo would sniffle, and then he would gently rub it to his cheek while spitting out unintelligible gibberish.

“Good gravy,” Engineer grumbled. It had been hard enough keeping Pyro away from those things, but somehow Soldier had slipped surveillance and gotten to the second weakest link. “Did you give him one of those just because you knew he’s in a crying mood?”

“Engineer! Are you implying I took advantage of our teammate’s tenuous sobriety in order to curry favor with an over-emotional and easily swayed state of being? Because I resent that!”

“Demoman,” Heavy warned. “Leave wild creature. We go kill men, not deal with baby.”

“Wah?? Buhuwcanweedjistleavetherthing…” Demo bemoaned, his first scrumpy of the morning and the proximity to cuteness slurring into a dreadful mixture of betrayed horror.

“I think he’s a goner,” Sniper observed. He patted Heavy on the arm, and headed to Resupply. “Might as well get out there, ‘m sure they’ll sort themselves out sooner or later.”

“Gosh darn it,” Engie grumbled, but even he could tell it was a lost cause.

One by one the mercenaries filed out, none of them save for the stalwart and loyal Demoman staying to help Soldier tend to what was clearly a dire situation. Fine then! They were obviously too weak willed to be of any use anyways; he and Demo could this just fine on their own.

“Demoman!”

Demo lifted his head, bottom lip trembling. He was going to dehydrate himself at this rate.

“Here,” Soldier placed the remaining raccoon in Demo’s, if not capable, then dedicated hands. Demo hiccuped in reply. “Find something to keep them warm while I run to the store. But not too warm! They are extremely easy to cook.”

“Oahgay,” Demo promised with a final sniffle. Doubling the amount of babies was threatening to make him break down entirely, but if Soldier had put his faith in him, then by God he would hold together. “Keep ‘em roasty toasty…”

“Goodspeed, citizen,” Soldier saluted. He gave two, much smaller salutes to the raccoons, and then was on his way.

“Demoman!” Soldier kicked the door open again. Ah, life’s little pleasures. “I have returned from the pet store!”

The mercenaries began preparing the kitten formula, their two children squeaking out displeasure for their empty bellies. Demo had taken off the top of an ammo crate and placed one of Pyro’s blankies in the bottom; for heat, he’d ‘borrowed’ a prototype dispensers and attached it to the bottom of the crate. Sure Engie had given him that key to his lab for emergencies only, but surely this had to count, right?

“Alright, water first, then formula.” Soldier brought his hands down on the counter. “We will need one pint of water, one teaspoon of sugar, and a quarter teaspoon of salt. That’s pronto, private!”

“How d’ye knoo all’er this stuff?” Demo asked as he clambered for the kitchen’s singular measuring cup. “Yeer so smart…”

Soldier blinked. Smart? He really must be drunk.

“Careful,” Soldier said, helping Demo lay the first raccoon flat on a towel. “Keep it on its belly. There, that’s good. Now when it’s done with the water can try to feed it.”

Soldier handled the second raccoon, and soon they were both ready to start taking the bottle. It was important not to overfeed, as that would cause the cubs to start sneezing milk out their nose, and if you didn’t clean that off their faces in time it would lead to fur loss. They were good eaters—though to his disappointment, neither of them would take any sour cream. Not even a spoonful! Kits these days…

“Good job recruits!” he told them. “Now it’s time for burping!”

“Burping?” Demo asked.

Soldier placed a towel over Demo’s shoulder and helped him navigate a raccoon across it. After some quick instructions, Demo lightly tapped the baby’s back, drumming its upper neck until it gave the tiniest, cutest burp right next to the Demoman’s ear. He immediately burst into tears again.

“There there,” Soldier said, this time patting Demo’s back. “Just let it all out.”

“Ach, not until you’re older, girlie,” Demo said, swiping the bottle from where he had carelessly let dear little Eilidh begin to crawl around. “Come here.”

He scooped her back into her ammo crate, where she’d cause less trouble.

“Girlie?” Soldier narrowed his eyes in suspicion. The helmet lessened the effect. “How do you know that?”

“I just have knowing for these things, you ken.” Demo puffed up proudly. “Eilidh’s a lassie, and her brother Eoghann over there’s a laddie.”

Soldier defensively cuddled the cub Demo was pointing at. “That is a terrible name! And you already named the other one, I get to name this one.”

“Oh yeah? You think you can do better in the christening department?”

“Yes!” Soldier held out the raccoon in both hands. “This is George-Spangled Fireworks. The third!”

Demo smirked and folded his arms. “George-Spangled?”

“We can call him Jangled for short.”

Soldier walked forward, at set Mr. Fireworks III next to his sister. They were drifting off already, the dispenser’s low thrum a steady rhythm to find oneself falling into, vibrating the air and extending tendrils from its base. No doubt whatever mistakes Demo and Soldier made in their amateurishness, the dispenser would pick up the slack.

“Here,” Soldier said, forcing one of the water bottles he’d picked up from the store into Demo’s hands.

“What’s all this?”

“Raccoons aren’t the only ones that need to stay hydrated. You have been crying nonstop still they got here and also have been drinking alcohol. Drink up.”

Demo looked at the bottle, then wiped his still-leaking eye with his sleeve.

“Aye,” he smiled at Soldier. “Thanks.”

The team had come and gone, berating them for missing the day’s battle or merely scoffing in their direction, and eventually Demo and Soldier were the only two left on base. Even Pyro, who’d swung by to coo at the babies, eventually realized they were too tired to play and headed home as well. So it was just the two of them, standing guard over the tuckered out raccoons.

“You heading out then?” Demo asked. He was on his side, one arm mushed against his face and the other trailing absently inside the box, eye never leaving the small chests as they rose and fell.

“…No, I think I will stay.”

“Aye, me too. For the first night at least.”

They lapsed into silence, and Soldier left the kitchen chair he’d dragged over in favor of the floor next to the Demoman. Demo rose as well, and flopped against Soldier’s side.

“We’re good Dads,” Demo hummed sleepily.

Soldier wondered if Demo would fall asleep sitting up. He wondered if they both would. “…Affirmative.”

“We should be Dads for other things too. Like…” The seconds stretched on, Demo staring blankly into space like he honestly couldn’t remember what other sorts of babies there were.

“Like?”

“…Otters,” he said finally.

“Otters are good,” Soldier agreed. A yawn hit him just then, and he felt like his jaw might fall off with how far he stretched it. “I will…keep that in mind…for next time…”

“Mm.” Demo let his head fall in the crook of Soldier’s neck.

They stayed like that, the four of them breathing in time.

#demosolly #boots n bombs #tf2 fanfiction

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agentnico · 3 years

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Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City (2021) Review

No raccoons were harmed in the making of this film. Though if you’ve played the games, you already know that.

Plot: Welcome to Raccoon City, once the booming home of pharmaceutical giant Umbrella Corp. The company's exodus left the city a wasteland, a dying town with great evil brewing below the surface. When that evil is unleashed, a group of survivors must work together to uncover the truth behind Umbrella and make it through the night.

Resident Evil has always been a giant of success when it comes to the video games, as the developer Capcom seems to have found the perfect blend of camp and horror and as such create a video game franchise that has held up to this day. Anyone played Resident Evil: Village that came out earlier this year? Ethan gets his hand chopped off and then re-attaches it just like that with his other hand! That’s some Jason Statham Spy level of badassery right there! And that giant lady roaming around the castle with her big hat and her other... big assets. Look, Village was a lot of fun and I implore you to play it if you haven’t, as you’ll have a great time! However where Capcom managed to succeed in making stellar games, on the movie front they’ve been at the top of least successful video-game-to-movie adaptations. To be fair, financially those Mila Jovovich films actually did really well, but critically and from a quality perspective they were absolute disappointments. Also, those Jovovich films had hardly any connection to the games. So when Sony announced they were rebooting the Resident Evil movies and actually trying to focus on adapting the stories of the original games, my hopeful ears perked up and I was like “BRING IT YA WEASELS!!” And now they’ve brought it, for better or worse.

Let’s start with what I liked. Look, I am a Resident Evil fan, and I absolutely love the games, so naturally all the fan service offered in this film really worked for me. It was really nostalgic seeing all the video game locations recreated in live action, from the mansion to the Raccoon Police Department, and certain shots are taken straight out of the game, like for example the trademark moment of the stranger turning his head to reveal his zombified face. Great stuff all that and I enjoyed seeing it. Also the references and nods like the mentioning of the ‘Jill sandwich’ or the use of a rocket launcher are very much familiar to diehard fans of the games. I would like to mention too that the zombies and the monsters in this film were actually done really well. They were creepy and scary, and I especially liked seeing how the zombies acted. You can tell that they were only just being affected by the virus, so there’s slight humanity to them even though they still are happy to eat your brains when the opportunity arises. So yes, visually all that gory stuff was displayed true and well.

However, that really is all the positives I have to say about the movie. Otherwise I have to say that this doesn’t change anything about Resident Evil’s thus far unsuccessful transition from video game to film. The movie is just not that good. Look, I don’t obviously expect a filmmaking masterpiece that’s trying to be an awards contender. It’s Resident Evil after all, so it should be silly and nonsensical. But at least make it fun, you know? It’s really strange, for the narrative plot points and what actually happens in the movie is in itself ridiculous, however it feels like the movie tries to take itself too seriously at times, as such holding itself back from the campy nature that the plot offers in the first place. There are moments where the movie is evidently having fun, with a moment that really had me and my fiancée in stitches when a zombie was walking around whilst on fire, and it was the simplicity of him calmly walking though the door, for some reason the shot composition and the pace just made that moment hysterical. That was when the movie felt like actually Resident Evil. But no, otherwise it didn’t feel right. Also, the movie brings back characters from the original game, and I have to say that most of them left a very ‘meh’ impression. Robbie Amell and Hannah John-Kamen as Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine were okay at best, but not worthy of being memorable. Kaya Scodelario as Claire Redfield literally held the exact same expression of intense sternness and that facial expression did not change at all throughout the movie. It’s as if she could only feel one emotion or she had a serious plastic surgery accident and physically couldn’t move her face. And I have to mention Avan Jogia as Leon S. Kennedy. In the games, Leon is a fan favourite, appearing in arguably the series’ best game entry in Resident Evil 4, and what made the character so appealing was that he was the typical American hero, and he would be thrown into this mad world of zombies and for one amusingly he would never be shocked by any of it, and second is he would constantly throw cheesy quips and one liners. But he was also always cool and a badass. Well this movie turns his character into the biggest loser ever, where he constantly makes stupid mistakes and is utterly useless. There’s even a scene where he tells Claire he has no idea how he was hired into the police force in the first place, and me and my fiancée were like “you’re asking everyone here, mate”. Only in the final moments of the movie does he get an actual Leon moment, but it’s not enough to save the fact that the producers have basically shown the middle finger to the game’s fan base, by ruining one of video games’ best characters ever. Shame on you Mr Producer, shame on you! That being said, the only actor in the film that seemed to be actually having some fun and actually felt like a Resident Evil world character was the sheriff of the police department played by Donal Logue. From the way he acted to the type of one liners he’d have, he actually felt like someone who’d come straight out of the games.

Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City is a step in the right direction for adapting the titular video games, however there are still a lot of problems and many questionable choices. However if you just want to enjoy some scares and visually well done zombies and monsters, this movie is very easily digestible (pardon the pun) entertainment.

Overall score: 5/10

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endobiologist · 3 years

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Furry Species Stereotypes #1 - By Me

Note;

These are only my personal views of the furry fandom's species I know from my personal experiences with them,

and if not that, then general common assumptions or stereotypes.

Thus, this is not gospel truth for everyone!

If you disagree, please tell me why!

I'd love you guys' take.

I also tried to name as many species I could think about off the top of my head without looking them up, which took FOREEEEVER.

You can reply to this or anon ask me, or DM me with ones I've missed, even your personal own created species (even if no one knows them yet), I'll do them too in a reply to this!

Real existing species stereotypes down below, here!;

WOLVES ; Due to this being the most common persona, you are most likely someone who follows the crowd and likes things that are popular. You however are still a pretty solitary being, preferring a dark corner over a party's dance floor. You love honesty and loyalty and have those traits to a fault, never ever abandoning a friend or ally, in need or not. You may also like things like squishy toys and squeaky toys, fidget spinners, and any manner of play item. Also, basically, to sum it up; YA' BASIC. Sorry. 😆

FOXES ; Somewhat similar to ferrets, raccoons, & sometimes rats, you both scurry around quickly simultaneously physically, and in conversation, and you may "borrow" items from places seemingly like a kleptomaniac, but for sentimental items. Basically if you are friends with a fox fursona, your jacket and/or gloves, pins, pizza (LOL) and many other miscellaneous items may go missing "mysteriously" due to them collecting it as a habit. They almost never mean true harm, they just like keeping your stuff because it reminds them of you, which can be seen as creepy by some people. But it is also very endearing, if done with pure intentions. But you may want to tell the fox to stop taking your things and ask you first! LOL. You always seem to have a ridiculous amount of energy and for some reason, an insane amount of optimistic viewpoints, and positive happy personality. You also like your books, preferring to spend a night reading then playing video games. (Although you do enjoy those too.) You are pretty academic, but yet you can also do well in physical sports, if you're into that sort of thing. There are a few points in the wolf & dog category I would assign here too, most likely due to all three being canines, like liking the squeaky and squishy toys and other stem items, and being verrrry loyal if a bit solitary in nature.

CATS (BIG) ; ...Y'all are usually assholes! There! I said it! I'm sorry to say, but nine times out of 10, you guys seem to be huge dicks, and I'm... not sure why, exactly?? What attracts the enormous dickwad to the big cat's umbrella of wild cat species? Maybe, perhaps, it is the superior, regal, and majestic appearance of big cats,--perhaps relating to their usual narcissism in normal life? Okay, so, I'm exaggerating a little, I have met some big cats that are great and very good friends. But a lot of them I've seen have been downright rude, callous, cold, and distant, at best! And downright asswads at worse!! However it seems like as bad as they go when they're bad, they go really good when they're actually good. When they are cool people, they're actually surprisingly chill, especially when comparing to the other type of big cat. They tend to usually be D.J.s, dancers, comedians, performers or some sort of person in the entertainment field, in some way. Those type're usually hella nice to get along with, however their super friendly exterior disguises a very weird, eccentric and esoteric mind beneath. They also seem to ooze confidence outwardly, even if they aren't confident feeling on the inside. They are royal and regal, and usually relatively unfazed by anything that would hurt normal people pretty badly. These are usually the type of people who don't get into emotions very often, or if they do, they always still have a wall up between them and the other person. They're strong, but that's because they force themselves to be strong, and it makes for a very bad night if the big cat snaps and takes out their very strong, tiger-like roar of anger on others! Thus if you are a big cat, I suggest finding ways to manage your anger, and finding ways to relieve your stress, as I noticed people who are big cats in their fursona tend to be very stressed in real life for some reason. Again, I'm not sure why people who are, are attracted to that species specifically.

CATS (SMALL) ; You kitties are solitary like the big cats and wolves, however much more docile. There's two main types of cats that are house cats in fursona; There's the serious brooding figure that seems to be always alone yet peaking curiosity in everyone's eyes--the type that is stealthy, sneaky, and very cat-like--as in, realistic cat-like. You may sit strangely or have odd habits in voice or body, something that makes you stand out as different. There's also the second type of cat, which is basically an UWU XOXO anime girl that is ridiculously feminine, high pitched, and almost always is a neko type furry character instead of a full furry anthropomorphic character. Not that there's anything wrong with nekos, they're awesome too, it just seems to be a trend that any neko is usually a cat. You may like to actually smoke catnip! (Okay that was a joke LOL, but yes, it is possible, and yes it does get humans somewhat high, but most would not recommend it due to it being short & tasting bad! LMAO 😆) You also really like batting things around, or batting things off tables or counters--when you have a cup of tea beside you, the urge to knock your mug off the table is irresistible, even though your rational mind denies the notion from actually happening. You tend to like yarn snd thread, whether that means just playing with it or knitting or sewing etc. and making creations with it! You usually like fish a lot, mostly sushi is your favorite, and usually, you tend to be more based in Japanese culture.

DOGS ; See wolves, but add loyalty hella and way more people-oriented. you're somehow more basic than wolves 🤣

RABBITS ; As someone who has a rabbit as one of my main 3 fursonas, I have to admit I love rabbits. We are usually very social, unlike the animal we're based on, preferring to conversate and meet people. Although, like the rabbit, we may be shy to actually begin the conversation, or initiate plans on our own. We also scare easily, and most of us for some reason tend to have anxiety or panic disorders, not always, but quite often, and that can usually be why we relate to the characters of rabbits which go still & shake or attack fiercely with their hind legs if scared. There are some people with rabbit fursonas that are definitely fully shy, but a lot of them are actually quite more outgoing than you would think they are. And no, rabbits usually don't love carrots. (Including real rabbits, they eat mostly hay and carrots should only be a treat!) But for some reason one thing I noticed is that almost everybody's fursona in existence is. Just. Super sexual and flirty and just out there in every way. They can come across as perverted and strange to a lot of people due to this, once they reveal their true colours rather than their cutesy entrance, to those they know well.

DEER ; You guys are the innocent bunch, the kids that seemed to never know what was going on when it came to violence or sexual content in any media or situation. This innocence continues throughout your life. You're usually a 'deer in the headlights' and can get very confused easily and a lot, and also you can become quite shy and reclusive if you don't have friends to pull you out of it to shove you into social situations by force. You may not be 'the brightest bulb in the bunch', but you are definitely the friendliest, kindest, and most understanding one in it. Most people love being your friend because your support gives strength that can't be found elsewhere, due to the power and stability of your connection to people. You also may really like salad.

BEARS ; You guys are a bunch of big gentle giants. For some reason, most every person who plays a bear fursona seem to be gigantic in real life, either super tall, or super fat, or super muscular, or a combination or all of the above! Whatever it is, they're always big intimidating figures. Yet, despite this, they seem to be very sweet, mild-mannered and very loyal. They also seem to have a lazy streak, preferring to lay down and eat honey rather than do anything productive on time. Don't get me wrong, they'll do the task, but it'll just take until they feel like doing it. However when they have ambition, they have it and have it well, being able to rise to Big manager positions very easily. They tend to be very shy both in romantic situations and just in general. Despite their large presence, they're just a bunch of softies.

OPOSSUMS ; An opossum is one of my main fursonas, based on me. Plus I can tell you from experience that opossums are little shits. They will pester the shit out of you, text you non-stop, and talk your ears off if you let them. They're not trying to be annoying or clingy, but they're just that type of person that really clings to people and likes talking to people as long as possible when they like them. Like raccoons, rats, and other things on this list, they like hoarding treasure and they tend to be sneaky mischievous little beings, loving to pull pranks or make a joke to make someone laugh hard. The opossums are kind of the clowns of the furry species, always being the comedian of the group. We love soft blankets and we tend to sleep with our head under the covers completely like we were in our mother's pouch. Also a lot of us do what I call the 'human sofa', where we curl around someone's back as they sit, and become their backrest, to snuggle them.

WEASELS & FERRETS ; Same as opossum, but make them scary and super suspicious all the time. I mean seriously, these guys are "sus". Who knows what they're up to? But they tend to be great comedians, and can always crack a joke that's sly and sarcastic to make someone burst out laughing, even if it's just one person who does due to their obscure references to their many fandoms.

RACCOONS ; Same as opossums, weasels, and ferrets--except add that you love trash. Whether this means collecting empty boxes, like shoe boxes and electronic boxes, or collecting old newspapers, or straws, or broken glass, (who knows?!) or making new pretty things out of old withered things, all of it you adore! You enjoy the feeling of making the most out of nothing, and pulling something out of your ass to survive no matter what the situation. This tendency can lead to intense resourcefulness in every area of life.

SKUNKS ; They all tend to be really chill, mostly... because all of you are fucking weed smokers! I guess it comes with the territory since skunks have a skunky smell, but damn does your skunky smell smell skunkier than a skunk! 😆🤣 Okay, okay, now besides the usual stoner stereotypes, you skunks are pretty chill beings, usually preferring a night on the couch. Although when they do catch you adventuring, they'd catch you frolicking in nature, and catching tadpoles, or doing something odd in a river. You love forests, and also love the sounds of city, traffic, and cars passing by. Rain is one of your favourite times.

BADGERS ; Y'all are some bad motherfuckers, the type of person who could kick anyone's ass, any amount of people, and come out without a scratch. People like you are nearly indestructible, and also tend to be somewhat snappy and harsh to others, although usually unintentionally. You tend to love honey, and/or any kinds of sweet things, which tends to contrast with your spicy personality. You have a pain tolerance out of this world, and you also have mental pain tolerance as well, seeming to never get hurt or let down by others' actions. This is due to you never fully trusting, and always preparing somewhat for a let down.

TANUKIS (JAPANESE RACCOON DOGS) ; This is my main fursona, and like opossums, Japanese Raccoon Dogs / Tanukis are ridiculously loyal and strange, almost clown-like beings, and also like raccoons, they love finding old things and transforming them into new. They also tend to be very artistic and really like colours, usually having some form of synesthesia if not multiple, usually having to do with colour association. Also you usually have a very strong connection to Japan and it's culture, either being Japanese or just loving the culture itself, and tend to base a lot of your life around Japanese things. You may even be planning to move to Tokyo someday! Tanukis are notoriously mischievous, but in a friendly, jokey way, and they tend to never want to make people mad. Due to this, they are always very friendly and positive, as much as they can, even if they feel the opposite inside. These are also the types of people to be very esoteric, weird, and downright uncanny, which fits their Japanese theme as Japan does some weird shit too LOL. Also usually stoners. Also pretty flirty, but not overly.

COYOTES & OTHER MISC. CANINES ; As a less common version of dogs, you have some manner of uniqueness about you! You tend to be active, especially physically, and in sports, usually very likely to do hiking as well. You tend to be pretty chipper, although you can come across as sarcastic or biting when you're in a bad mood. When you're in a good mood, everyone can feel it, and your smile brightens up the space around you! People tend to be attracted to your demeanor, even if you don't mean to attract them, they still come, and this quality can lead you to some of your lifelong friends (and perhaps, enemies.).

SHARKS & OTHER AQUATICS ; You aquatic creatures tend to be the jocks of the group, however despite your jockiness, you actually have quite a brain on you; being able to figure out complex things like math problems that are way ahead of where you are, or learning to read very soon in your life, and maybe even being in spelling bees or talent shows later on! You tend to have a scientific mind, and definitely have at least one or two fish tanks, if not a whole room full. You can be a bit perverted, and even a little bit dominating in conversation, but for people who can get past that--you make a loyal, fun, and active friend.

SNAKES & OTHER REPTILES ; You all tend to seem shady no matter how stand-up you are, and the fact that you never go in the spotlight, always preferring to stay by the sidelines and observe and watch others closely. Occasionally, you may leave a small remark, and due to you barely talking, those things you do say echo only louder for those who hear. You tend to be reclusive and secluded, loving the silence of rainy days with no one bugging you, and your beautiful reptiles. You tend to be quite confident, and even heroic at your best, being kind and also empathetic and caring, and intelligent. At your worst, you can come off as cold, manipulative or even cruel at times. Snakes and reptiles are usually seen with dislike and/or fear by others, which can lead to a hardened heart in you that makes you trust less easily, fearing judgement in who you are.

AXOLOTLS & OTHER AMPHIBIANS ; You guys kiiinda tend to be the 'uwu i'm special!!1!' bunch, but rather than in an insensitive annoying way, in the way that you're genuinely childish and innocent and naive, which can be both a blessing and a curse. Like the aquatic axolotl, you stay young forever, (kind of like Peter Pan!) and you seemingly never lose your sense of humour, your playfulness, or your absolute randomness at times. You are someone who would fight to the death for a friend you just met, even though you are usually pacifistic. You have great traits when it comes to caring for others, and fully taking care of others--skills that would bode well for you becoming a nurse, doctor, psychiatrist or therapist. You tend to love water, and will go swimming the whole summer while it's warm enough! You also don't mind, even if it's cold, you'll jump in anyway.

MICE & OTHER RODENTS ; You guys tend to be even more cutesy and little than rabbits! A lot of you guys seem to be age aggressors due to mental illness, and thus choose a very small, innocent animal as their fursona. These people can also just be generally childlike, innocent and playful, albeit very shy. The other type of rodents are the creepy ass ones who give off a high & mighty vibe, being very confident, swaggering, and even mysterious at times. They're the cool kids you see in school, pretending to be some mysterious goth kid, but really they just learned the goth look a week ago.

GENERAL INSECTS/BUGS ; You tend to be very odd, weirding out the general public more than you do connect with them. You've always felt a strange disconnect between yourself and the world, feeling like you're not really there or like you could be more. You might have transformed from being a totally different person in your past, to being a radically different person now. You tend to rule change and dreams and mystic things, perhaps even being some sort of psychic. You tend to have an extremely open mind and a very welcoming, understanding personality, due to you even seeing the beauty in bugs, which so many find repulsive. This quality will follow you into life, which you must be careful of--don't start trusting everyone you meet. Due to you always seeing the best in everyone, you can get taken advantage of easily.

And now fictional/mythical/extinct/hybrids down here;

DUTCH ANGEL DRAGONS ; Y'all give off a very confident vibe to me, although it's hidden under an exterior of pretend anxiety or hesitancy, which you really don't feel. You're one of those preppy kids who tends to dress girly regardless of gender, can't handle coffee but loves their jasmine tea, likes their succulents planted in their house in cute little DIY decorated plant vases, and wears pastels of colour. You tend to be a bright, vibrant person who sees the best in things, and you can be a little naive due to your extreme and blind happiness that radiates purely from you.

GENERAL DRAGONS ; You tend to intimidate others easily, but this is not something you mean to do whatsoever. In fact, you usually try your best to make friends although you usually scare them off, whether due to being unintentionally too clingy, or just being too awkward in conversation. You tend to have anxiety or different worries about things, but you try and overtake these things with a massive upbeat attitude. Although sometimes, this attitude does falter, and you can become somewhat pessimistic without reminder. Also, like raccoons, ferrets and other similar animals, you love to hoard treasure and things you love, everything from gemstones, to rocks, to bottle caps, to pieces of broken glass--it doesn't matter what it is, if it's collectible, you will collect it.

PROTOGENS/PRIMAGENS ; You guys tend to lean heavily into the Japanese aesthetic, or at least into the vapourwave aesthetic. Perhaps even steampunk! Whatever it is, you follow it heavily. You also tend to be a tech nerd. You can help anyone with any computer problem almost effortlessly, and you even have knowledge of technologies in the recent past such as devices like record players, VHS tapes, etc. that most younger people wouldn't know about (if you are young, or if you're old, you know from experience.). You could even be a hacker of some sort if you wanted to, considering your huge skill with computers. Personality-wise you tend to be very cutesy, excitable and both very very innocent, and yet somehow perverted, at the same time. You most likely speak more than one language. I'm not sure why, but it seems like every protogen or primagen I've met speaks multiple languages, two at least, if not more.

SERGALS ; Very similar to sharks, with some qualities of reptiles. You guys also have the Leo zodiac-like personality type of loving to be loved; being in the spotlight is your favourite thing, no matter what it's for! Due to this, some Sergals will tire of reaching for difficult positive attention, and will start to even accept negative attention as attention they want, then will try and act like a troll on purpose to fuck with people, only to get a reaction. Other times they're just chill and generally relaxed people, although if you threaten their family they become very hostile and very unstable emotionally, quickly.

CRUX ; Due to the history of the species being about being experimented on, and abused, and combined, etc. etc., people who play cruxes tend to be pretty edgy "look at how dark I am!!" people. However not always--sometimes, weirdly, very girly, upbeat & happy people will roleplay cruxes. So it's kind of unsure what you'll get when you interact with one. It's pretty much a 50/50 chance on whether they're upbeat & happy, or dark & brooding. Whatever the case, they tend to be usually neurodivergent, since cruxes are mentally ill if you think about it basically, a lot of people have latched on to them as their comfort species for being mentally ill. Like dogs, you love squeaky toys and also you love piercings, and tattoos, and any body modification you can achieve!

PHOENIXES ; Similar 'emo' type to cruxes--people generally choose phoenixes due to their history of being unbreakable when it comes to physical harm. Due to this, a lot of emo people latched on to them. However there are also regular people who play phoenixes, and they tend to be very regal--if a bit intimidating, and are very ambitious & strong-minded people. They have a fieryness that blazes through to show their phoenix-y nature bubbling underneath the surface.

GRYPHONS ; For some reason, you tend to be very aggressive and domineering individuals--think Bakugo Katsuki from My Hero Academia, the anime. Sometimes you can come off as a huge asshole, but you're really well meaning on the inside, and you try to do your best by everyone--you just seem intimidating and aggressive due to resting bitch face and voice, LOL.

DINOSAURS ; You are an excitable individual, whether that means being angry easily, or hyper easily. You tend to be younger in age, or at least younger in mind, having an innocent heart and somewhat ferocious ambitions. You are strong and untamable when it comes to authority figures bossing you around. Most of the time there's no changing your mind if it's set, and you can be very stubborn, pushy, and audacious at your worst, and at your best; proud, confident, encouraging and passionate!

SKULLDOGS & OTHER SKULLIES ; Similar to phoenixes and cruxes, they tend to attract emo, goth, punk, or scene people, however rarely a bubbly girly person will roleplay one, and usually do it with pastel colours instead of dark. They tend to be somewhat reclusive, but yet enjoy people's company when forced to interact. They are people who don't really give a shit much in most circumstances, but when something gets them stirred up, it gets them up and going quickly. They can be somewhat cold and harsh to those who don't know them well, who know that it's all a façade of intimidation, to drive you away from getting closer to them.

FOLVES & OTHER HYBRIDS ; Similar to foxes, you're an excitable hyper furball that will jump around the room, and meet as many friends, and talk to as many people as you can! You guys seem to have none of the reclusive types of personality traits that foxes usually have, and instead seem to be very pack-bonded people! You love finding lucky things, like a clock or license plate that has triple numbers, or picking up a lucky penny off the street. The little things in life make you very happy.

So what do you think?

Did I get your species correct?

If so, or if not, tell me why in the replies! I will read 'em all.

#furry #furries #furry fandom #the furry fandom #furry species stereotypes #furry stereotypes #furry species #fursona #fursonas #furry oc #furry ocs #furry original character #furry original characters #furry character #furry characters #stereotypes

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98prilla · 4 years

Text

Wings of Change

AO3

I was in a Remus mood and this happened.

...

He was sore. God, he was sore. Not that it was unusual for him to be sore. He got into all kinds of mischief and life-threatening scenarios every day. His imagination wasn’t nearly as tame as Roman’s usually was, blood and guts and death, oh my!

It wasn’t an uncommon sight, him bloodied and staggering down the hall to Janus’s room, or the living room, grin wide through red stained teeth, needing help patching himself up. Janus always grumbled and made a fuss about it, but with his extra arms he was fast, and always tenderly gentle, scolding him good naturedly the whole time.

Once Virgil would have helped as well. He was almost better at it than Janus, his fight or flight making him eerily good at assessing injuries, which ones were serious, which ones needed cleaning, which ones needed tending to first. But more than that, he often stopped Remus before he went that far to begin with, appearing in the shadows of the imagination and dragging him home, or teaming up with him to defeat the day’s monster, making sure they both stayed relatively safe.

Once he might have had Roman, watching his back, moving together as one, not needing to speak to understand the other’s movements. It was a well-rehearsed dance, one that was more familiar than breathing, one that brought to the surface a strange sort of quiet, in his mind, a soft silence reigning for a few precious hours, afterwards.

But they had left. And he was used to pain. Pain of dislocated limbs, the sting of disinfecting wipes, the bubble of iodine, the wheeze of cracked ribs. Once Roman would have healed him with a snap of his fingers. Once Virgil would have stopped him from getting hurt in the first place. But now there was only Janus, to piece him back together after.

And then the wedding happened.

And Thomas, more importantly, Patton, admitted that Janus was right. That their thinking was too black and white, that deception wasn’t everything Janus was, that his advice and opinions mattered. He would have loved to lurk behind the television and watch, but he had other business to attend to.

That business being Virgil.

He’d slowly creaked open the door, knocking softly on the door frame to alert Virgil to his presence. Now was not the time to scare the storm cloud. Virgil was already scared enough as it was.

“go away.” Came the muffled response, tempest tongue tinging it dark and growling, the shadows of the room darker than ever, and if he were anyone else, standing in there for more than a minute would have him corrupted beyond repair.

But he was Remus, intrusive thoughts, dark creativity, and anything the room could show him he’d already imagined himself, and though it was unpleasant, he knew they didn’t matter. Because Virgil was curled up under a pile of blankets, his shaking visible even from the doorway, the fear strong and visceral.

“Easy, storm cloud. It’s just me.” He murmured, stepping inside and letting the door close shut behind him.

“Oh goodie. All my worries are soothed.” Virgil snarked, voice trembling, and Remus let out a small huff, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He couldn’t tell exactly what was going on, out there with Thomas, but he could feel the negativity roiling out from the living room, and knew Virgil was overwhelmed, trying to process it all, absorb it all, disperse it all. They were overwhelming him, and no one had even deigned to check on him, choosing to ignore him.

Thomas had chosen to ignore him. Remus knew that was hurting Virgil the most. That he hadn’t been called. That they hadn’t wanted him up there. That he had told the truth, bared his soul, and now Thomas wouldn’t even look towards his spot on the stairs. Carefully, Remus laid a hand atop the lump under the blankets, stroking his thumb in small, grounding circles, nothing more than a light touch. Virgil shuddered, but didn’t shift away.

“why are you here? Shouldn’t you be using this time to wreak havoc, or something?” He laughed again, a soft, warm sound, not his usual cackle. The kind of laugh only Janus and, once, Virgil, were privy to.

“I could. But even I know that would only make everything worse, and you’re already dealing with enough bullshit right now. I don’t need to add to the pancake pile of misery.” He stilled as the blankets shifted slightly, Virgil’s dark eyes peeking up at him, eyeshadow streaking down his face, more raccoon like than ever. “Let me help, kit?” He asked softly, Virgil’s eyes searching his for a long moment, before he nodded minutely, shifting to make room for Remus.

He didn’t hesitate. He slipped under the covers, Virgil squeaking as he slid in behind him, pulling Virgil onto him, his head resting on Remus’s chest, their legs tangled around each other, Remus’s head resting atop Virgil’s as he gently ran his hands up and down Virgil’s arms to ground him, humming softly, slowly absorbing and siphoning some of the anxiety and fear and negativity from Virgil, into himself. Virgil let out a soft sound, halfway between a whimper and a sigh, and he shushed him, pressing a kiss to his head.

“Y’know you don’t hav ‘t Rem.” Virgil slurred, eyelids drooping closed as the stress leaked out of him, his anxiety returning to normal levels as Remus took the extra.

“It’s ok, kit. I can handle it. You’ve already done enough, for today. Later I’ll go up there and give them a piece of my mind, for making you so miserable.” He smiled at Virgil’s small laugh, the emo pressing closer to him, and Remus wrapped his arms around Virgil, holding him carefully close. “Get some sleep, Vee. I’ve got you.”

“m’kay. Ree? ‘M sorry. I… missed you.”

…

That was when it had started. It was small, at first, and he attributed it to his usual bumps and bruises, a sore back was rather tame compared to what he usually dealt with, of course. Still, he took it slow that day, choosing to rabbit hole down youtube, instead of wreak his usual havoc. He was still coming down from the effects of all the anxiety he’d absorbed in Virgil’s room, after all, and he didn’t want his creations getting away from him and doing actual harm elsewhere.

But the pain only grew.

Soon, his whole back was sensitive and tender to the touch. It hurt to bend, to stand, to move, to stretch. Even resting against the couch was a no go, any kind of pressure on it hurt like hell, made him bite his lip to contain the hiss trying to escape his lips.

But he suffered through it in silence. Sometimes, he thought Janus knew something was wrong, his gaze lingered on Remus for a moment too long, he watched a little too closely as he shifted so his back wasn’t against the back of his chair, a small wince when he laughed, a forced smile here and there, Janus could see through them all, but he didn’t ask.

Virgil was almost as bad. He’d lived with them, after all, and he was almost as sharp as Janus. After the wedding, he’d been visiting more often, which meant at all, really, but once a week turned into near daily, as Remus made sure to make him feel welcome, and Janus started warming back up to Virgil, started to close the icy abyss between them.

It was Virgil who apologized first, to Janus. It was stuttering and slow, and a bit rambling and incoherent, but that didn’t matter. Janus knew what he was trying to say, could feel the sincerity of it, and before Virgil had even finished, he’d swept him up into a hug, using all of his arms, Virgil melting against him with a quiet sob, repeating the same soft words he’d said to Remus after the wedding for Janus.

“I missed you.”

…

Objectively, Remus knew the others had wings. The light sides, that is. They didn’t appear in the videos, of course, only actually manifesting in the mindscape itself. He knew Roman’s were delicate monarch butterfly wings that he usually kept folded carefully against his back like a cape, and that he loved their look but hated how fragile they were, always having to be careful not to rip the paper-thin membranes. A hint towards the fact that Roman wasn’t as strong as he said he was, that he was, in fact, easily broken. He’d been allowed to feel them, once, it was like touching a cloud, soft dust coming away on his fingers in oranges and blacks, and no matter how much they had fought and scuffled in the imagination he had never once even dreamed of going after Roman’s wings, though they were his obvious weak spot. One clean shot of an arrow, one stab of a spear, one slash of a sword, would be all it took, but despite what they all thought, he did have some morals, and he would rather kill himself than steal flight from Roman. So, wings? Off. Limits.

Patton’s wings were the incredibly soft looking, the fluffy wings of a mourning dove. Soft tan and black speckled, with a smooth cream underside, he roosted the most of all of them, fluffing up and resettling his feathers frequently, a self-soothing habit that made the moral side even more adorable than he already looked.

Logan’s were the smooth, almost blue black and white speckled sharp wings of a peregrine falcon. He usually kept his primly tucked against his back, though if you sat near him, sooner or later they would stretch out, resting against whoever was near. He’d never admit it, but he loved it when the others stroked his feathers, preened them, while he read or studied or planned out a schedule. It helped focus him, and he found that touch easier to reach out and ask for than hugs or other kinds of touch.

And Virgil. Virgil, whom had switched sides, had grown so much, had started letting them back into his life, had earned his wings through his hard work, his steady determination, through his acceptance. And they were beautiful.

He complained about them, of course, more often than not, but Remus could see through the grumbling protests, to the pride underneath. Because he’d gained the magnificent wings of a Scarlet Macaw. They were a brilliant red, green, yellow, blue rainbow, and spread the widest of any of the side’s wings, the most powerful in flight, though Logan’s were, of course, the fastest.

He’d been so self-conscious of them, at first. They’d grown in after the accepting anxiety videos, making Logan theorize that they were earned when a side was truly accepted. He’d avoided their calls for three days, after they came in, terrified out of his mind, before he couldn’t resist the pull of the summons anymore. But they’d all fawned over them, asking if he knew how to care for them, patiently teaching him how to groom them, broaching the topic of letting someone else help. It took a lot of time before he let that happen, before he trusted any of them enough to even come near his wings, to stop flinching whenever anyone reached towards him, pressing them tighter than was healthy against his back more often than not, cramping them painfully. But he got there.

He wasn’t all that surprised, even, when Janus came out of his room, not long after the whole wedding debacle part two, electric boogaloo, swearing up a storm, furious as all hell, dark black wings in disarray, just a splash of vibrant yellow marking the top of his coverts.

“Yellow headed blackbird. Nice.” He commented idly, Janus simply giving him a withering stare, before pulling on his gloves and heading upstairs, no doubt to rip into the light sides, not that they could change it back. It was the mindscape’s decision, and there was no going back. At least Virgil would commiserate. “At least they go with your theme!” He called, laughing as he heard the door slam.

…

In retrospect, he was an idiot.

To be fair, he was always an idiot. He was sure the others would argue against that statement, which made a soft, fuzzy feeling grow in his chest, that nearly numbed some of the excruciating agony wracking his body.

He’d been laying on his stomach, chin propped up on his hands, idly playing with some new software on his laptop. It used the camera on the computer to register where your eyes were looking at the screen, and used his eyes as the pen to draw. It was a good way to keep himself distracted, it took a lot of focus, but he’d gotten sucked in pretty quickly, excited at the prospect of trying out new styles and techniques.

So, he didn’t notice, at first, the now normal ache that had been going on for the better part of two months, starting to consolidate into lines of pain on his back. He gasped at a sudden shock of fiery heat, momentarily breathless. He moved to sit up, to try and grab a heating pack, or the heated blanket he’d snatched from Janus, which had seemed to help, but the movement sent another shock of heart rending agony through his chest, and he fell back to his stomach on the bed, hands fisting the blankets as wave after wave of piercing, soul shattering, mind numbing torment wrenched through his marrow.

It was fine, it was fine, it was manageable, he could handle this, he’d had worse, he could deal with this, figure out the rest later.

It felt like his back was aflame. He could feel sticky wetness soaking his shirt. He could feel his muscles pulsing and pounding, could taste copper in his throat, could hear his pulse in his ears, and he realized distantly he was screaming, unable to stop, tears leaking down his face, all he was aware of, all he could feel, was the lightning tracing itself down his back, burning brands into his shoulders, like he’d been mauled by a dragon, like burning, breaking, pulsing, pounding, rushing, breaking, desperate agony.

With one final pulse of flaming excruciation, he felt his back split open, the pain recedes slightly, gasping in air as his scream died on his lips, shaking from the force of his desperate, gasping sobs.

He heard footsteps pounding down the hall. Heard his door slam open, but he couldn’t look up, his knuckles white against the blanket, his teeth grinding so hard he was surprised they hadn’t already turned to nubs, and he let out a sharp, short yowling gasp as someone touched his back, trying to flinch away, the movement sending black spots across his vision. He felt a soft touch against his forehead, cupping his cheek, and he managed to blink his vision clear, surprised to see Patton’s pale face, eyes huge behind his glasses.

“hey… da…d” He managed weakly, closing his eyes against a sudden muscle contraction, barely stifling his scream to a whimper, unable to even joke as he normally would.

“Remus. We are going to help. What happened?” Logan asked, and he gasped in another breath to try and steady himself.

“Dunno know, f-or once. W-was just… dr-awing. Been s-ore, two m-onths.” He answered, unable to stifle a cry as Logan attempted to move his shirt. “Pl-ease. Hurts, please…” He didn’t know what he was asking, exactly, just that he needed it to stop, he couldn’t think, it just had to stop!

“Hey. It’s gonna be ok, ok? Just… Logan’s gonna take care of you. It’s gonna hurt, but he’s helping, ok?” Virgil, kneeling on the bed before him, covering his clenched fists with his hands, gently rubbing circles on them, pressing their foreheads together. “it’ll be ok.” Then Logan pulled up his shirt, and he screamed, blacking out.

…

“Oh. Oh Remus.” Roman gasped, face paling as he took in the red that covered his back, the two deep, pulsing slits on either side of his back, running from his shoulder blades to the base of his back.

“what… what is this?” Janus asked quietly, eyes wide, Remus’s scream still ringing in his ears. He’d never, never heard Remus sound like that, scream like that, a true, piercing, pained scream.

“two months… that was… that was the wedding. When… when Thomas accepted the dark parts of the mind.” Virgil said softly, not moving from his place close to Remus, not willing to let go.

“it’s his wings. Lo, it’s his wings! They didn’t… they must not have formed right. They’re stuck.” Patton, voice shaking and horrified. “they’re trying to get out.” Logan inhaled sharply. He could see it now, the new muscles moving and shifting underneath the skin, the wing joints struggling to free the new appendages, pulling at the rest of his skin, making the slits wider.

“I need to manually free them, or there may be permanent damage to both his wings and his spine. It’s not going to be pleasant. Patton, can you go heat up some water and bring me some soft towels? Roman, go get the first aid kit from under the sink. We’ll need the bandages.” They both complied with a lingering look back at Remus, who was trembling, moaning softly in his uneasy unconsciousness.

“What do you need from me, Logan?” Janus asked, eyes meeting Logan’s, who adjusted his glasses.

“Help hold him down? I don’t know if he has the strength for it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to thrash or lash out. I certainly wouldn’t underestimate it from him.”

“I’ve got his arms.” Virgil said, startling them both. They hadn’t realized he was paying attention. Logan nodded sharply, and Janus climbed onto the bed, pinning down Remus’s legs. Logan pulled on latex gloves, taking a large breath, before carefully reaching into the leftmost slit.

Remus did thrash weakly, falling still after only a moment, though soft whimpers escaped his lips, breath gasping and stuttering, Virgil ceaselessly murmuring to him, trying to convey safety. Slowly, Logan navigated the crumpled wing out into the open, feathers matted and sticky with blood. The other was a bit trickier, it seemed to be caught on something, and he winced as he had to painfully wrench it to get it out, concern growing as Remus didn’t react to the movement, even his whimpers ceasing.

“Good. That went well.” Logan mumbled, looking up as Roman and Patton reappeared in the doorway, faces paling at the bloodied wings. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I hope.” Only Janus and Virgil caught those two mumbled words, as Logan ushered the two over.

“Each of you take a wing. We need to stretch them out to their full length to try and get circulation going. Cleaning them thoroughly with the warm washcloths and water should also help in that department. Once we get all the viscera off, we can work on grooming. I’m going to attempt to clean his back and asses the total damage to it, I expect he’ll need stiches up and down his back, once we get the bleeding staunched.” Logan explained, already dabbing at Remus’s back with the cloth, relieved to find most of the bleeding had already stopped, it was mostly dried blood coating his back.

“Virgil. You don’t have to keep going.” Janus said softly, catching Roman’s attention, who was working on Remus’s right wing.

“I do. I… all the times, he’s helped me, I have to at least do this.” Virgil answered, eyes closed, a thin sheen of sweat across his forehead.

“what do you mean? What are you doing?” Patton asked, not looking up from his work.

“He’s absorbing Remus’s pain. Taking it on himself so Remus doesn’t feel it. Remus can do the same, and often did, helping when Virgil’s anxiety was at unsustainable levels.” Janus explained, pushing back his hair before replacing his hat.

“Virgil-“

“I’m fine, ok? He’s the one who needs help right now.” He snapped, the room falling into a tense, focused silence as they all worked, carefully dabbing, sewing, straightening, trying to get his wings into any semblance of normalcy.

Virgil just prayed that they’d still be usable. Two months. Two months, it must have hurt like a son of a bitch, and Remus hadn’t said anything! He was supposed to be the observant one, the worry wart, he was supposed to expect things to go wrong and keep an eye out for when they did. He should have known, should have realized, after Janus got his, that of course Remus wouldn’t be far behind. Especially after he’d helped him, when no one else had and he knew, knew, in his soul, that Remus helping him that day was what shifted everything. It was his fault, Remus was like this because of him.

“It isn’t your fault, Vee.” Janus murmured, sitting down beside him, setting his gloves aside. “I knew something was wrong, I just didn’t think it was this severe. He hid it well.”

“He always does. He’s an actor, remember?” Virgil mumbled back, letting himself lean back into Janus’s embrace, letting the silent tears slip down his face.

“We’re finished.” Logan said, wiping sweat away from his brow, cleaning up the washcloths and repacking the first aid kit, leaving it tucked under Remus’s bed. “I’ve sutured and bandaged his back, and it should heal up nicely, given time. His wings will need daily stretching, it may be hard for him to flex them to their full length on his own, given their extensive cramping, so we may need to help him hold them there. But the overall condition of the wings themselves is encouraging. Given time, he should be able to fly and they should have no lasting permanent damage.” Patton let out a deep sigh, sinking to the floor in relief, arms wrapped around his knees. Roman sunk down beside him, pulling him into a hug, Patton wrapping his wings around the both of them.

“Thank you, Logan.” Janus said softly, teasing his fingers through Virgil’s rainbowed feathers, feeling him melt against him with a shudder.

“Of course. I would suggest we all go get some rest. I would expect him to stay sleeping for quite a while, given the amount his body needs to heal. I’ll check on him this evening, to change his bandages, but he should be alright. Virgil, you can stop, now. He should be in a relatively minimal amount of pain, now.” Logan added, shooting a quick look at Virgil that held an entire lecture, and Virgil sighed, letting go, slumping further against Janus at the exhaustion washing over him.

“alright. Let’s go, Pat. I’ll keep you company.” Roman helped Patton to his feet, hesitating a moment, stroking Remus’s new wings gently. “Get well soon, Rem. I can’t wait to fly with you.” He murmured, smiling once at the others as he departed with Patton in tow.

“I’ll be going as well. I know there’s no use in trying to convince either of you to leave, though I would encourage you both to try and get some sleep as well, especially you, Virgil.” Logan said, nodding sharply once in farewell, closing the door behind him.

“They are stunning. I expect he’ll be pleasantly surprised, at how they turned out.” Janus mumbled against Virgil’s back.

“We match, kinda. He’ll never let me hear the end of it.” Virgil replied, smiling as he felt Janus’s laugh against his back.

They were beautiful. They shimmered like gemstones, sparkling and shifting iridescence. They started off a sparkling amber, before fading into a soft yellow, then glimmering green, which shifted into vibrant reds, bright oranges, deep blues, at the slightest shift of the light. They were relatively small, compared to the other’s wings, but that was natural. They were easily recognizable as hummingbird wings, rather fitting for the ever-energetic chaotic side. Logan had carefully shifted them so they were tucked against Remus’s back, in the position that would cause as little discomfort as possible, though no matter what he did, they were going to ache a bit.

“He’s going to be ok, Vee.” Janus murmured, wrapping his wings around Virgil, cocooning him in dark softness and warmth, something that never failed to put Virgil at ease, and soon enough, he was drifting off. Janus yawned himself, leaning back against the headboard of the bed, knowing he’d regret falling asleep like this in the morning, but he couldn’t help it as his eyes drifted shut.

…

He was sore. But less sore than he’d been in weeks. He shifted, wincing at the dull ache that came with it, before realizing he felt something soft and light against his back, against his skin. He knew, before even opening his eyes, he knew.

He should have figured it out sooner. Should have realized, and maybe he had, but he’d hoped he was wrong, been in denial, because why would he have gained wings? He hadn’t done a thing to earn them, he didn’t deserve them, maybe he should just cut them off himself, before the others saw them and started asking questions.

“Remus.” Well shit. There went that plan. He managed to crack his eyes open, looking up at the slightly blurry face of Janus. “You do deserve them. You have earned them. Everyone was worried about you.” He winced, Janus always could tell just what he was thinking. “only when you’re lying, to yourself or to others. Which you are doing now.”

“I’m not. I don’t deserve them, they’re probably horrible anyway, ugly and twisted and unusable and good for nothing, just like me.” He mumbled, looking away as he felt Virgil take his hand.

“They’re beautiful, Ree. I promise, they’re none of those things. Logan said you’ll need to stretch them and build up strength, but you’ll be flying in no time. Take a look, yeah?” He agreed grumblingly, letting them help him to sit up, legs dangling off the side of the bed. Carefully, Virgil grabbed hold of one of the wings and stretched it out to its full length, Remus’s breath catching as he stared, incredulous. Slowly, he reached out, running a hand through them, marveling at their softness.

“I’m gonna let go. Try and hold it here, okay?” Virgil asked, and he nodded. Virgil let go, and for a moment, it stayed extended, before it slowly curled against his back. With a small shake, Remus ruffled and resettled them, wincing at the tug moving them caused.

“That’s good, Ree. That’s really good.”

“I… I’m really gonna be able to fly?” Remus asked, voice small and almost afraid, and instantly, Virgil wrapped him in a hug, letting Remus tuck his head against his shoulder.

“Yes. We’re all going to help teach you, help take care of them, help take care of you, and we’re all going to be there for your first flight. I promise.” Janus joined in, hugging Remus from behind, careful of his wings, a steady weight against his back.

“You’re going to be a magnificent terror of the skies, Remus.” He let out a small laugh at that, hiccupping on a sob that escaped his lips instead, as he pressed tight into his best friends’ arms, both of them murmuring reassurances and encouragements and compliments, and he wouldn’t want to be anywhere, anywhere else.

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jubilantwriter · 4 years

Text

CampChamo96 Logs In

[Context: Takes place before Jasper starts to realize that the Pale Man is more than just a presumed “wild raccoon that got mistaken for a monster during a bad trip so now he’s feeding this wild raccoon his leftovers he guesses and now his camcorder won’t stop acting up and why is there always a weird smudge in some of his frames”.

David discovers the joys of owning a YouTube account, thanks to his new fri- er, roommate’s gracious help. It’s then that he discovers his new favorite “channel”, as Gwen describes it, and he starts to realize that he’s not alone as he thinks.

And that is not a thought he particularly enjoys.]

////

There's something in the woods. That's the only thing David can think about every time he clicks on a new video, curled up under the heated blanket that Gwen provides.

It wasn't there in the beginning. Those were Jasper's early days, when the camera angles were weird and his voice more monotone. He found Jasper by accident while browsing YouTube. Gwen had suggested he browse around, maybe learn a thing or two about human behavior if he wanted to "blend in" so bad.

He got the looks down. That part was easy.

It was the acting part that was difficult for him. Normal humans blink both their eyes regularly. Normal humans don't grip onto things with their tail. And normal humans don't change their skin when scared or excited.

Normal humans also don't have scales over their skin. But Gwen says that as long as no one touches him, they won't know. Oh, and if their eyesight is average to below average. Apparently the ridges of his scales are pretty visible if she looks hard enough.

...Okay so maybe he hasn't gotten the looks down quite yet. But that'll fix itself soon enough with Gwen's help! Behaviors on the other hand…

All he knows about human behavior are from his past experiences. They’d chase after him and his parents, and after a while, just him. They were a local legend with stories made to scare teenagers away from the swamps that became their home. But that didn’t stop the humans from hunting them down. For the sport, for the excitement, for the one picture they can snag to prove his irregular existence- all the reasons were so very different yet so very much the same. His parents always told him to avoid humans just to keep safe and quiet, but that only led to an endless lifestyle of hiding and hiding and hiding and hiding. That’s why he was raised in a swamp. Humans don’t enjoy trekking in the swamps.

(Most of them, at least. He still remembers stumbling home alone. Eventually, the stories dwindled from three creatures to one. No one could explain the reason. Locals just said that maybe it was never three, but one. They couldn’t find the bodies to prove it, after all.

Creature or human. David had to make sure of it. It was their final wish. Their only wish.)

But he’s tired of hiding. He wants to live. He wants to explore. He wants to see trees that climb up towards the sky, where the branches are strong enough to hang from, and all he can feel is the strong breeze and cool air. He wants to run in the rain and feel the kind of humidity his parents only spoke about in stories, wants to live in a world where he can stand in the sun and feel free. He wants to stand out in the open and not be gawk at, not fear that someone will see him and scream, not worry about being seen and marked as a “monster” for slaughter.

He wants to live. And to live, he needs to blend in and pretend to be human. It’s better than living in constant hiding, in the shadows where the light doesn’t reach them, and they’re always in a cold, dank place that’s nothing like the warm humidity of their ancestor’s homes.

He wants to live. So he needs to learn how to disguise himself as a human. To be accepted. To not be seen as a “monster” they claim he is. So he needs to learn to act the part, or else.

That's how he ends up on YouTube, browsing videos of humans since going out in public to observe humans in their natural habitat is still too dangerous for him. Gwen's pretty nice for a human, and even she still manages to scare David at times.

Jasper was the first human that didn't make David nervous. True, he was pretty monotone at first, lifeless even, during those first handful of videos, and he didn't actually get to see the human's face during those times, but something about him made David want to... keep watching.

Maybe it was how genuine Jasper was, with how his voice would quake when he made a mistake, or that subtle, soft beat of genuine delight when he made something surprisingly good. It was those moments where he broke his monotone that kept David hooked.

And then there was always that... sad little tinge he seemed to carry in his tone. How his voice didn't seem to carry, how there was a bit of brokenness to a few of his words, how he'd pause in his actions with his hands trembling in the frame.

Jasper was lonely. Just like David. Granted, he has Gwen now, but she's not around for most of the day. So when it was just David and Jasper, he couldn't help but feel... a connection to Jasper.

(Maybe that’s why he always left a little comment on Jasper’s videos.)

Those were peaceful days. Days where he could watch Jasper cook haphazardly, leave a cheerful comment that Jasper would sometimes respond to, and know that there was nothing lingering in the woods.

But now that's changed.

Even now, as he's curled under his heated blanket, his eyes carefully watching every frame of the video, every moment where Jasper's camcorder starts to fuzz out a bit, there’s always a moment where Jasper doesn't cut the footage quite right and-

There.

He pauses the video, skin reacting in kind as he catches sight of the beast.

Pale skin almost stretched over a frame too lanky for it. A face of shadows with two bright spots for eyes. Rags hanging off its form. Yellow, stringy hair. And this time, he can see the sharp, pointed teeth bared like a threat, and a bony hand pressed up against the glass of Jasper's window with long nails, cracked and uneven.

An inhuman creature, like David.

But a monster, unlike David.

This... thing has been appearing more and more as of late. Jasper calls it the Pale Man, but judging by the tone of his voice, he doesn't quite take the threat of it seriously. He even leaves his food out for it on his back porch! Calls it his "offering for the local Pale Man", but David can tell he finds it all in dry jest.

He truly believes he's out there, alone, with nothing watching him in the woods. But David knows better. Knows that there are creatures like and unlike him that wander at night, creeping through the woods and mountains and swamps trying to keep out of sight.

It's the ones that don't fear being seen that should warrant alarm. It's this one, this... Pale Man that haunts Jasper's videos that nearly has David bolt from his temporary shelter and into the open, just to find Jasper.

Just to keep him safe.

This one human who he doesn't know, and doesn't know him. All he knows is that Jasper's videos make him feel a little less lonely, and a little more happy, and he wishes he could make Jasper happy too.

The only thing preventing him from hunting down Jasper's location is the fact that... Jasper sounds a little happier nowadays. Ever since the Pale Man showed up, he lost his monotone delivery. Sure, that tinge of sadness still lingers, but his hands don't tremble, and his voice carries as though he's speaking to someone.

David stares at the image of the Pale Man a little longer.

Whatever this... thing's intentions are, as long as it doesn't harm Jasper, he can leave it be.

He hesitates over the play button.

It... should be fine.

Jasper seems to find it harmless.

So David will trust in his decisions.

Even if.

Even if David thinks it's a mistake to do so.

#camp camp #cc david #cryptid au #mentions of jasper daniel and gwen #if jasper's part of the story is a cooking simulator gone wrong #then david's part of the story is hinged pepe silvia #who is this pale man #why is he stalking jasper #whats the local urban legend #in which david neglects learning how to be human and enters a rabbit hole that leads no where #it's okay david #we all have those moments

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spacesuitsforemergency · 4 years

Text

The Rise Of Iron Maiden

Chapter 5: The Return of Iron Maiden

Word Count: 2.9k

Originally Requested by: @amateurwriterbigdreamer

Previous Chapter: Failure to Launch

Next Chapter: Whatever it Takes

A/N: hope y’all don’t mind it from Tye’s POV, it just adds to the story and develops his character. Y/N gets her character arc going too towards the end.

5 YEARS LATER

•

Tye sighed in boredom as he wandered around the halls of the Avengers Compound, his home for 8 years now. He was 21 now, legally an adult. He could’ve gotten his own place 3 years ago, but he felt he would truly be alone if he did that. You lived with your parents and younger sister in the countryside, your dad wanting to isolate you from the hero life. This meant Tye hadn’t seen you for almost two years now, his only friend left was taken from him. He knew Tony didn’t mean any harm, he just wanted his daughter safe, but it still confused him.

Tye was always confused these days. He lived with Natasha Romanoff at the Compound, the only one left that was willing to stay with him. Clint had disappeared off the face of the planet, despite not being taken in the Snap. Tye was lost without his own best friend, Jaime Reyes. Jaime and him stuck together no matter what, and Tye never knew what to do without him. He was confused, on why the world seemed to take everything away from him. His mother, his father, his grandpa, his best friends, his team, his mentors...

“...Will you find out where he's going next?” Natasha asks holographic Rhodey. Tye realized he walked into the meeting room, where Natasha was having her weekly check in with the other teams.

“Nat...” Rhodey trailed off.

“Please.” She took a shaky breath.

“...okay...” Rhodey nodded, saw Tye, then cut off his side of the connection.

Nat started to cry miserably, and Tye didn’t know whether to make his presence known or just leave. He decided on the latter, turning to walk out silently.

“Tye?”

Tye winced, feeling like he was intruding. He turned slowly, a pang of sadness stinging through him when he saw the sorrow in Natasha’s eyes.

“Nat, Uh...Sorry, I didn’t mean to just barge in-“

“It’s okay.” She chuckled, wiping her eyes. “You want some dinner?”

“Uh...no, I’m good.” Tye shook his head, seeing the half eaten PB&J on her desk. “See you’re eating healthy.”

“Oh, what’s the point of keeping up a proper diet anyways?” She laughed, despite the few tears rolling down her face.

“Good point.” He cracked a grin, which she rarely saw the young man do. “So...anything bad happening anywhere?”

“No. Everything seems under control.” Nat shook her head. “Why? You worried about something?”

“It’s nothing, mom.” Tye shook his head. When he didn’t get any response, he looked up from staring at the floor, seeing Natasha staring in surprise at him. “What?”

“You called me mom.” She said, the shock evident in her voice.

“I did? Oh...uh...sorry, I didn’t mean to it just kinda-“ he started to awkwardly walk away.

“No no no!” She stood up, clearing her throat and a smile spreading across her face. “It Uh...you think of me as a mom?”

“I mean...yeah.” Tye mumbled, embarrassed. He wasn’t used to letting his emotions or thoughts be exposed like this. “You practically raised me ever since I got...stuck here. I’ve always looked up to you.”

“That...really?” She smiled wider, tears running down her face again.

“Oh don’t cry! This is sappy enough as it is!” Tye grumbled as Natasha laughed at his reaction. She rounded the desk and pulled him into a hug, Tye stiffening at first. He eventually grew comfortable enough to hug her back, feeling safe in her arms. It reminded him of his mother’s hugs, but somehow Natasha’s were more...genuine. Loving. It was nice. Something Tye wasn’t used to.

“I’ll tell you a secret, kid.” She ruffled his hair as she pulled back. “I’ve always wanted a son, and I am so happy you’re the one.”

“Okay, that’s enough love and affection for one night, Nat.” Tye shuddered, making her laugh again.

“Don’t you mean mom?” She teased.

The mother and son (sort of) whipped around when a hologram popped up, seeing footage of what looked to be a security camera.

“Oh! Hi. Hi! Is anyone home? This is Scott Lang. We met a few years ago, at the airport? In Germany? I got really big, and I had my mask on. You wouldn't recognize me.” Scott Lang, AKA Ant Man waved at the camera.

“Is this an old message?” Tye asked.

“It’s the front gate.” Nat stared in disbelief.

“Ant Man? Ant Man, I know you know that. I need to talk to you guys.” Scott shouted.

Nat typed a few things into a control panel, and the door opened. Scott looked between the camera and the door for a moment before finally letting himself in. Scott found his way to where they were standing, in complete shock. Scott Lang was supposed to be dust right now, along with half the universe.

“Scott? Are you okay?” Tye asked the man, now nervously pacing.

“Yeah. Fine. So you do know me? Or are you just going with the name I gave you?” Scott asked.

“No uh, my friends broke into your house a few years ago. Before the Snap, remember a guy in a spider suit and another in a beetle suit?”

“Right! The Bug Squad!” Scott smiled excitedly. “That was so cool.”

“Scott, focus.”

“Right. Have you guys studied Quantum Physics?”

“Only to make conversation.” Nat said, though neither guy could tell if she was joking.

“Sorry, no.” Tye pursed his lips.

“Alright. So... five years ago, right before Thanos, I was in a place called the Quantum Realm. The Quantum Realm is like its own microscopic universe. To get in there, you have to be incredibly small. Hope, she's my...She was my...She was supposed to pull me out. And then Thanos happened, and I got stuck in there.” Scott explained.

“I’m sorry, that must’ve been a long five years.” Nat said.

“Yeah, but that's just it. It wasn't. For me, it was five hours.” Scott shook his head rapidly. Tye looked at his mom, bewildered.

“See, the rules of the Quantum Realm aren't like they are up here. Everything is unpredictable. Is that anybody's sandwich? I'm starving.” Scott asked, already shoving half of it into his mouth.

“Scott, what are you talking about?” Tye asked, crossing his arms.

“What I'm saying is, time works differently in the Quantum Realm. The only problem is right now, we don't have a way to navigate it. But what if we did? I can't stop thinking about it. What if, we could somehow control the chaos, and we could navigate it? What if there was a way to enter the Quantum Realm at a certain point in time but then exit at another point in time? Like... Like before Thanos.” Scott slowly explained, motioning wildly with his hands.

“Wait, are you talking about a time machine? Like from Back to the Future?” Tye raised his eyebrows.

“No. No, of course not. No, not a time machine. It's more like a... Yeah, a time machine. I know it's crazy. But I can't stop thinking about it. There's gotta be some way...There's gotta be...some w... it's crazy.” Scott rambled.

“Scott, I get e-mails from a raccoon, so nothing sounds crazy anymore.” Natasha scoffed.

“So who do we need to talk to about this?” Scott asked them. Nat and Tye exchanged glances again, both knowing the answer.

•

You tapped your fingers impatiently on your windowsill, looking out the window of your bedroom.

You had received a text from Tye Longshadow for the first time in months, and they were coming to your house. You were sworn to secrecy, so that your dad couldn’t prepare for the attack. You were anxious, wanting to see them so bad.

Your dad had isolated you from anything that had to do with being Iron Maiden. That included a lot of people in your life. You were mad at your dad, for taking you away from what little you had left. You missed Tye, you missed Natasha and Steve, and Rhodey and Dr. Banner. Thor and Clint, even though they weren’t really around anymore. Even Nebula and the rude raccoon. You were forbidden from putting on the Iron Maiden suit, and you didn’t know why you listened to him. You were an adult, you could make your own decisions. Plus, you’d never listened to him before. Maybe you listened this time because the guilt of not listening before the Snap dragged you down. But it also dragged you down as a person. You weren’t as happy or sarcastic anymore, you’d lost the classic Stark Charm™️.

You looked at the photos on your window sill, smiling sadly as you reminisced about what felt like your past life. One photo was you and your team after your first official Avengers permitted mission, all beat up and tired, sitting at a pizza booth. The other was of you and Peter in middle school, holding the first prize ribbon of the science fair. The last was of you and Eduardo, the love of your life. Peter had snuck a picture of you two sitting across from each other at a diner, smiling and looking into each other’s eyes. Your fingers were intertwined in the picture, and all you wanted to do was feel his hand in yours again. To hear his voice in person, not just from old videos. To smell the scent of his fancy cologne. To look into his beautiful, big brown eyes. To feel his lips on yours...

You look up when you see a black Audi pull into your driveway, and you bolt downstairs. Your mother was thankfully working in her office, so you didn’t get scolded for running in the house. You ran down the gravel pathway, passed your dad and little sister, running to your last friend standing. He let you hug him, and to your surprise he hugged you back.

“Good to see you.” You say as you pull away from Tye.

“Yeah, you too.” He nodded.

“You still wear a headband, I see.” You grin teasingly.

“You still haven’t gotten taller, I see.” He retorted.

•

“Now, we know what it sounds like...” Scott trailed off after the heroes explained their (currently) hypothetical plan to you and Tony.

“Tony, Y/N, after everything you've seen, is anything really impossible?” Steve asked. He knew you had taken up your time studying everything, following your father’s footsteps.

“Quantum fluctuation messes with the Planck Scale, which then triggers the Deutsch Proposition.” You mumble, lost in thought.

“Can we agree on that?” Tony asked his fellow Avengers. They all look at each other, clueless. “In Layman's terms, it means you're not coming home.”

“I did.” Scott shrugged as Tony handed them drinks.

“No, you accidentally survived. It's a billion to one cosmic fluke. And now you wanna pull off a...What do you call it?”

“A time heist?” Scott suggested, a goofy grin on his face.

“Yeah, a time heist. Of course, why didn't we think of this before? Oh, because it's laughable? Because it's a pipedream?” Your dad scoffed.

“The Stones are in the past. We can go back and get them.” Tye explained.

“We can snap our own fingers. We can bring everyone back.” Natasha added.

“Or screw it up worse than he already has, right?” Tony raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t believe we would.” Steve said confidentially.

“Gotta say, sometimes I miss that giddy optimism. However, high hopes won't help if there's no logical, tangible way for me to safely execute said time heist. I believe the most likely outcome would be our collective demise.” Tony ranted.

“Not if we strictly follow the rules of time travel. That means no talking to our past selves, no betting on sporting events-“ Tye listed.

“I'm gonna stop you right there, Tye. Are you seriously telling me that your plan to save the universe is based on Back To The Future?” Tony asked his ex-mentee. “God, I’m gone for a couple years and you start saying stupid shit like this?”

“...no.” Him and Scott mumbled in unison.

“Good. You had me worried there. 'Cause that'd be horse shit. That's not how quantum physics works.”

“Tony...We have to take a stand.” Natasha tried to persuade him.

“We did stand. And yet, here we are.”

“I know you got a lot on the line. You got a wife, daughters. But I lost someone very important to me. A lot of people did.” Scott said desperately. “And now, now we have a chance to bring her back. To bring everyone back. And you're telling me that won't even...”

“That's right, Scott, I won't even. I have kids.”

As if on cue, Morgan runs out onto the porch, your dad picking her up.

“Mommy told me to come and save you.” She said shyly, weary of the new faces.

“Good job. I'm saved.” Tony kisses her on the head as he picked her up, before turning back to the heroes. “I wish you'd come here to ask me something else. Anything else. Honestly, I...I missed you guys, it was...Oh, and table's set for seven.”

“Tony, I get it. And I'm happy for you, I really am. But this is a second chance.” Steve tried to reason with him.

“I got my second chance right here, Cap. I can't roll the dice again. If you don't talk shop, you can stay for lunch.” Tony said, and it stung when he didn’t point to you too. You watch him leave, ignoring his orders to come inside.

“I’m in.” You tell them.

“Won’t your dad...?” Natasha trailed off.

“He’s not in control of me.” You shook your head. “If there’s even the slightest chance this will work, I’m in.”

“It’ll definitely work if we have a Stark with us.” Scott grinned.

“Glad to have you back, Iron Maiden.” Steve pat your shoulder.

You smile, not hearing yourself be referred to by that name in such a long time. It made your heart fill with pride, and fueled your determination.

“Y/N Stark.” Tony said from the doorway.

“Don’t leave without me.” You tell them, glaring at your father as you push past him.

“Y/N, where are you going?” Your dad demanded.

“With them.” You spat as he follows you upstairs. “I’m going to try. Unlike you, I have hope.”

“It’s not that I don’t have hope. I just can’t risk any of this.” Tony insisted.

“Any of what? What kind of life is this, dad? Sure it’s great for you, but did you ever stop to look at it from my perspective?” You ask as you grab a bag from under your bed, tossing your photos from the windowsill into it.

“All I’ve ever done is protect you.” Your dad says through his teeth. “Why are you doing this? To get back at me?”

“No dad! I’m doing this because I want everyone back! This is my chance to save everyone! It’s my fault Thanos did this in the first place! If I was stronger, Eduardo would still be here! Peter! Jaime! Bucky! Wanda! The Guardians! Doctor Strange! Sam! Don’t you care about any of them?”

“Of course I care about them! But I care about my family more!”

“They’re my family!” You yell at him, the frustration that you’ve been bottling up for years finally pouring out.

“So that’s it?” Your dad scoffs and shakes his head in disappointment. “What if you screw this up? Huh? What if you make things worse. You’re willing to risk your mother’s life? Your little sisters, for your boyfriend?”

“You know what? Yes.” You snap, zipping your bag up and tossing it over your shoulder. “Not just for him. For everyone. For my life. I want my life back, and apparently that’s something you can’t give me.”

You storm out of your room and down the stairs, seeing Morgan sitting at the table, eating lunch. She grins when she sees you, looking at your bag.

“Where are you going?” She asked as you walked over and kneeled next to her seat.

“I’m gonna go see some old friends for a little bit. Think you can hold down the fort around here?” You ask her.

“Yeah.” She smiled.

“Are you sure? It’s gonna be tough without me.” You tease her. “You’re gonna have to make sure daddy does the laundry right, you know how he always mixes up the soaps. And you have to make sure to save daddy from mommy’s scolding. Think you can take it, soldier?”

“I can take it.” She nodded happily.

“Alright.” You hug her. “Love you, kiddo. See ya later.”

“Bye.” She waved at you until you shut the door, and walked down to the car with the others.

“Iron Maiden and Apache Chief, back again.” Tye fist bumped you.

“Iron Maidens back in the game!” You cheer happily.

“He’s scared.” Natasha said to Steve and Scott.

“He’s not wrong.” Steve shrugged.

“Yeah, but I mean, what are we gonna do? We need him. I mean, we managed one Stark, but we need both. No offense, Ms. Tony Starks Daughter. What, are we gonna stop?” Scott rambled nervously.

“No, I wanna do it right. We're gonna need a really big brain.” Steve shook his head.

“Bigger than his?”

#the rise of iron maiden #eduardo dorado jr x stark! reader #tye longshadow #natasha romanoff #scott lang #steve rogers #tony stark #morgan stark #pepper potts #avengers endgame #marvel #request #young justice #peter parker #spiderman #jaime reyes #blue beetle

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thereallifecath · 4 years

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Every time someone tries to justify wearing fur, my heart breaks a little. I just don’t understand the disconnect. Ever since I was a little kid I looked in eyes of animals and wanted to hug every single one of them (except snakes, they can stay at a distance).

Sharks were supposed to be scary, vicious animals that only feasted on human flesh for the hell of it... they scared me when I was three. Then I grew up, and learnt that on average around 3-4 people die of shark attacks a year, whilst humanity kills roughly 100 million of them each year. They’re living breathing animals that sometimes mistake humans for seals - food.

The various amounts of animals that die a gruesome death for fur, to name a few; beavers, chinchillas, cats and dogs, foxes, minks, rabbits, raccoons, seals, bears, wolves. Look, I understand if you are living in a climate or culture that need fur for survival. But I’ve seen a ton of people on here justify because indigenous tribes use fur, they - generally white people, living in well populated, tempered climates - can use fur and leather too. Just like the meat industry, the rise in need for more fur - due to the fashion industry - means more small, fuzzy, cute mammals, are being captured, kept in fucking terrible conditions, and dying a gruesome death just to be skinned and sold for your latest winter coat. Most are raised in captivity. Most don’t even get to see outside a shoebox sized cage their entire life and somehow you’re able to be ignorant enough to turn a blind eye and just say ‘well it feels warm’.

I don’t think I’m ever going to understand that concept. Up until the age of 13, I had no idea that leather, was just a fancy word for cows skin. When I was 14 I watched a video that told the harsh truth that male chicks get thrown in grinders, alive, in factory farms, because they don’t need male chicks. When I was 16, I discovered that to keep up with the mass consumption of meat, almost the entire Amazon rainforest would have to be cut down for agriculture.

“So you want animals to have no purpose?” If humans can exist on earth without a purpose, then so can every other living creature.

I’m not saying I’m a perfect person who’s “woke af”. I’m saying it fucking makes me weep whenever I look into an animals eyes and know the world just wants them dead for consumption of their chicken nuggets. I actively try to better my actions and my effect on this earth and it’s animals. It’s absolutely unjust to kill any human, so why is it so ridiculous for someone to say the same about animals. Why are we better than every other living thing? We’re just not. If humanity continues on its path, we are going to absolutely destroy all the harmony and all the systems in place in the animal kingdoms that make the world go round.

Idk why I felt the need to share this. Maybe because I just saw something about this chinchilla living in terrible conditions and I just... I don’t want any harm to come to any animal - by humans. There is a cycle, a working one, amongst animals. We disrupted it by asking for too much, wanting too much.

#animals #vegans #veganism #plant based #fur #fur industry #fashion industry #meat industry #it hurts my heart too much

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ironbiohazard03 · 4 years

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The Power of Veronica

So I have been anonymously asked to write smut, as comfortable as I felt, with a dominating Alexia and sub Claire from Resident Evil Code Veronica. The plot of my choice, which I kinda chuckle at because I have NOT played Code Veronica (CV). I’ve watched a lot of videos about CV and played Darkside Chronicles, but this was a fun challenge presented to me.

This story is PG-13, 16+. Pretty much a lime!

To anyone who’s a fan of the RE series, like how much I TRULY love it, I hope you find this piece interesting!!

The Ashford Mansion was more than just a symbolic relic left behind by Umbrella; it held more than just that. Behind its dirty and dingy walls laid something far more sinister and evil. The residents in this household were more than hellbent to bring something to the world it would never see before. The name Veronica would be etched.

Guns went ablaze as Claire tried everything she could against the demented Alfred. He laughed like a royal maniac as he shot right at her, but suddenly it came to a halt and Claire could hear Alfred lowering his rifle down.

Great, now’s my opportunity to get one shot on him and get the hell out of here.

As she pulled out her Magnum gun to take the bastard out of his misery, a soft feminine voice came through. “Please dear brother, let me deal with the guest. I don’t think it would be wise to shoot them, it would ruin the dinner conversation.”

A woman dressed in the loveliest, ornate purple gowns waltzed on through. She looked like she was ready to attend an opera, but as she started to sing flurries of insects surrounded Claire.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE THESE?! GET AWAY FROM ME!”

Oversized flies that looked like ants and spiders that had wings managed to pick up Claire and she dropped her gun in the process. “Alright, what do you two want with me? I don’t have any money or political power; all I want is for you to let go of Steve. OK?” She tried to wriggle her way out from the disgusting bugs, but a rather large sized black widow slinked its way down from the ceiling. It slightly flexed its legs in anticipation of catching its prey. An almost hissing-like sound escaped the monster’s mouth, an acidic fluid dripped down its mouth and left small holes on the concrete below.

Alexia almost giggled at the sight of the distressed woman. “Oh, Steve you say? You mean the brat who should keep his mouth shut?” An evil smirk almost appeared on her doll-like face, but she wanted Claire to feel pure terror.

“Look, LET HIM GO! You’re the one I’m after!” Claire screamed out, tears nearly welling in her eyes. She felt useless, for once in her life. No matter what she could do, her physical abilities were limited by the Queen-to-be in front of her.

Alfred turned around and headed back towards his quarters. “Alexia, do whatever you want with this woman. She is of no concern to me; I doubt anyone like her can make an impact on the Ashford family. It's about time that the Ashfords reclaim what is rightfully theirs.” He almost let out another cackle, as if his grasp on a human reality was slipping farther in his mind.

A few more of the bugs managed to carefully grab Claire’s weapons and made sure that they were put out of commission.

With a snap of Alexia’s fingers, the insects released their grip and rudely dropped Claire like a hunk of meat.

There Alexia stood, proud as ever. The Veronica virus melded so well with her, every action she made worked in tandem with it. Nothing could stop her now; in fact, she was more than willing to share that power with a select few. “I do say, you’re Claire Redfield right? I did some research on my end, because I was the result of what my father created and my lust for knowledge is what drives me. You managed to survive the horrific, or rather wonderful, results of Raccoon City. Hundreds of zombies running around, with no will of their own. Except, not me, I have my own will and I will make sure that everyone else around me begs on their knees for forgiveness.”

A small ember nearly formed on the palm of her hand, not incinerating the delicate and beauty of her white gloves. Claire wanted to find something to combat with the crazy woman. How could Alexia talk about people like that? As if they’re puppets willing to be controlled. “Why are you keeping me alive? Wouldn’t you want just to kill me, right here, right now?” anger could be felt behind Claire’s voice, as if having to be reminded of the events of Raccoon City was enough. “Umbrella is nothing but scum and anyone who wants to bring harm to others deserve to burn in hell!”

She still felt useless, normally any Redfield would find a way to get out of a situation. However, Claire felt completely out of her element.

Just as Claire wanted to try to come up with some plan, Alexia breezed her way down the baroque staircase, one of the few remaining relics of Umbrella. The Ashford family prided themselves on elegance. If a mansion could look as elegant as ever, would it matter if there were bodies rotting in its core?

“Claire, I want you to realize what Veronica can do for you as well. For as strong and resilient as you are, a woman like you should deserve some sort of benefit. Normally, anyone who dared to cross me would meet an untimely death. However, you are different, I see something within you that needs to be brought out.”

Claire didn’t know what to do, she was completely terrified. A woman who would look like any other normal human, could manage to strike fear right into her. “I REFUSE!” she screamed in rebellion, she stood her ground and tried to find any sort of weapon. One of the staircase railways was on the verge of rusting off, so she managed to rip it off and swing it like a bat.

With such grace and elegance, Alexia raised her hand and ignited the beam into a ball of flames.

Quickly, Claire dropped it to the ground and went right into for a jab.

However, whatever strength or ferocity Claire had, it was quickly drained as Alexia managed to inject her neck with something.

Rage filled Claire’s delicate blue eyes, an almost tinge of red showed through, but darkness filled them. Shit, I can’t beat her. She’s just too strong.

Thoughts of Raccoon City and people dying by the dozens flooded Claire’s mind; somehow Chris would be overrun by numerous zombies and would meet a grizzly demise.

Minutes passed on by, hours passed on by, till Claire finally managed to gain consciousness. Chains and bindings held her down; there would be no way for her to escape.

Suddenly, the same pain returned to her. She wanted to grab at it to dull the pain down, but nothing would quell that combustion. As if she felt every limb in her body was going through a hellfire. Suddenly, the insects that Alexia had summoned before started to gather and stood in awe in what they were witnessing. As if, somehow a sense of humanity was injected into them. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!” Claire screamed in confusion and anger. More and more, her hair started to change as some kind of vines or fauna started to sprout where her hair normally was.

“You see, it’s the Veronica virus running its course. You will possess the same power as me. In fact, you could be even stronger than me if I showed you how it works.” A slight cooing tone escaped the female Ashford’s voice, she relished to see others suffer from what she proclaims as the next step of human evolution.

Delicate fingers caressed Claire’s face, not a single blemish would ruin what Alexia visioned in her mind. As her fingers danced around, she found an opportunity with her other hand and ever so carefully let her fingers twirl the vine-covered hair. A few strands of red hair slipped through the madwoman’s fingers, but it brought an odd sense to the woman. As if, Alexia was wanting to do more than just twirl it.

Lips met one another, but Claire had no will to fight, but to accept the truth around her. As if her body was almost craving more of the power Veronica would be able to deliver. Slowly but surely, more vines wrapped tightly around Claire’s delicate throat.

She wanted to take a breath, but the ecstasy-filled rush took her body over. Hands tried to grab where they could, as if she was deserving to feel that way.

Alexia pressed her body up against Claire’s; somehow Claire managed to feel the organza, the silkiness of that lovely purple dress.

A small ember glowed on Alexia’s white gloves, yet the flame managed to not damage them. She quickly cut Claire’s red vest into tatters, exposing how much the Veronica virus could do to the human body. Alexia was far from any human, she was a scientific experiment ready to be brought out into the public. She would no longer keep herself in isolation or rely on experiments to do her bidding.

The fauna on Claire’s body managed to hide her breasts ever so carefully, but to Alexia nothing would be hidden in her gaze.

Fingers gradually cusped around Claire’s breast, fingernails ever so slightly dug into them. They didn’t bleed, but the pressure was too much for Claire. As she wanted to cry again, her lips were silenced once again by Alexia.

For once in Alexia’s life, she found those sorts of romantic affairs odd, but entirely fascinating. How much satisfaction would she get from it all?

However, Claire’s body was looking it wanted to reject the virus. Fear ran through her mind. Is this how Sherry felt all those years ago?

Once again, she didn’t allow herself to cry while Alexia was around. Every so carefully, the female Ashford managed to pierce her hand right into Claire’s breast. Green blood slowly trickled down, but somehow the coldness brought a sense of pleasure to Claire. “PLEASE!”

Panting breaths escaped from both women, they were completely drawn into the moment. Alexia could’ve easily just killed Claire right there, allow the virus that made Alexia who she was into Claire’s coffin. However, this moment would not be wasted.

However, not soon after, a few male voices echoed in the chamber.

“CLAIRE?!” both Chris and Steve yelled.

Faith was slowly restored into Claire’s blue eyes. However, Alexia was disappointed with how short the affair was, but she was able to fulfill her purpose. See what the Veronica virus could do.

“It’s such a shame that this game is over, but I don’t think we’re far over from it. Just remember, while I’m willing to give you a cure, Veronica will always call you back. It always does.”

As Claire’s rescuers came by her side, Alexia dropped a purplish vial on the ground. “DO AS YOU WISH WITH HER! She can die where she is or you manage to save her, but I doubt it’ll last long.” She slinked her way back, an army of bugs created a getaway for her.

“THE ASHFORDS ARE FAR FROM DONE, I HOPE YOU DO REMEMBER THAT!” Alexia screamed, but it was far from a scream; it was a declaration of war, Umbrella would be sure to come back to the public.

#fanfic #lime #anon request #resident evil #resident evil code veronica #recv #alexia ashford #claire redfield

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jjkfire · 5 years

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Preydator

Reader x Jungkook // shifter!AU, raccoon!jk // 6k words

Summary: Neither of you are quite the predator the two of you claim to be. + “I wonder what the people would say if they saw big mean lion predator tending to my wound right now.” raccoon!jk & (surprise (; hehe)!reader

Genre: Fluff

A/N: Okay I know scientifically raccoons aren’t exactly preys bc they eat rodents and frogs and etc. but… for the purpose of this fic, they are classified as preys. Predators in this au refers to… tertiary consumers, like top trophic level dudes. Also, football = soccer. Sorry, calling it soccer is very awkward for me!

You’re no stranger to late nights at the library. In fact, you love them. Your brain just works better at 1 am than it does at 1 pm. You also like it when there’s far fewer people in the quiet section of the library. The scent of all the others in the room can get a little too overwhelming for someone like you so, you’re truly at your happiest when there’s only a handful of people around.

Most people don’t like to stay at the library past 2 am because that’s when the campus buses stop running but you don’t really mind. Walking home at 3 in the morning after a long study session when the streets are eerily quiet, doesn’t faze you at all. It’s calm, peaceful and it makes you feel at ease. Your walks are usually uneventful and that’s probably a good thing. You have a small handheld can of pepper spray just in case of anything but in all your semesters here, you’ve only had to use it once and that had been a while ago, but perhaps you spoke to soon because tonight you find yourself gripping that small can in your hand, heart thumping loudly against your chest.

There’s the sound of a loud tortured squeal and you can’t quite pinpoint where it’s coming from. You pick up your pace attempting to get away from the source, but you don’t really know where to go. You know the sound is coming from a hurt animal and just that thought alone makes you sweat, because it probably means that a predator shifter that’s out of his or her senses is on the loose. Sure you should try to help whatever it is that’s making that noise but you reconsider the fact that you are but a tiny prey shifter and that if you do stop to help, you’ll probably be the next victim.

The squeals seem to echo no matter how far you walk, in fact they get louder and you start to run, your hand fumbling for the can of pepper spray in your pocket. You stumble, the loud clang of metal ringing through the night as you trip over a misplaced manhole cover. You whine, groaning in pain when you end up on the floor. The squeals are more urgent now, as if it was warning you of what’s to come and god, you shut your eyes, hoping that whatever feral predator that’s lurking will hopefully end your life quick, unlike its previous victim that’s still screaming in pain.

You’re waiting and waiting and waiting but the fatal bite to your neck never comes. You can still hear the squeals, less urgent this time, almost like there’s no effort in them. Slowly, you peel your eyes open, dusting off the dirt on your knees after you had taken a quick look around to make sure you were safe. You let out a whimper when you press at your injured toe. Surely it was going to bruise, you sigh, mumbling to yourself. At that sound, you hear the loud squeals again, accompanied with the sound of water being sloshed about. Odd.

Just up ahead, you see a hole in the ground, presumably where the manhole cover you just tripped over was meant to go. You inch towards it slowly, carefully, unsure if it was just a trap. If you were being honest, all of this seemed eerily like the opening of a horror movie. Despite your gut telling you to just take off and run, you risk a peek down the hole in front of you and in there you see the source of all your panic tonight, a poor little raccoon, limping around and squealing as it peered up at you.

“You poor baby,” You frown, as you watch the raccoon try to reach for the metal rungs on the side of the wall, attempting to climb up towards you. “Just wait down there. I’ll come get you!”

You take one last look around you, ensuring that the injured raccoon wasn’t being used to bait you because yes, you’re that paranoid. You remove your backpack and slowly make your way down into the sewer, nose wrinkling at the awful stench. When you reach the bottom, the raccoon stands aside timidly as if it was afraid of you and you offer it your hand, to show that you meant no harm.

“I’m no predator, don’t worry,” You laugh as it comes up to sniff you. “Let’s get you home, huh?” You murmur as you attempt to pick it up, making sure you avoid the large gash you see on its side.

“You still want these?” You ask, pointing to the clothes that are drenched in sewer water and it shakes its head no. Thank god. You didn’t want to touch it in the first place. With that, you attempt to climb up the metal rungs with just one available hand. It’s a bit of a struggle and you can tell that the little raccoon is attempting to muffle its pained squeals, burying its head in your shirt.

When you finally get back to ground level, you see that the gash the raccoon has is much worse than you had thought. It seems weak, tired, and when you ask if it could point you the way of its house, it only blinked at you. You can see the poor animal shivering in the light breeze, whimpering as it attempted to limp closer to you. You guess you had no choice but to bring it home with you.

When you finally reach your studio apartment, you quickly got a towel, helping the raccoon to dry off as best as you could without touching the wound.

“So… now what?” You ask out loud but you’re mainly talking to yourself because you know the animal has no capacity to answer you. “I think this will be easier to treat in your human form,” You point at his wound. “What’s your trigger?” You question.

Shifters mostly stay in their human form and only turn into their animal form when they experience any one of their specific triggers. For some it’s when they get angry, a very common trigger for large predators. For some, it’s when they’re hurt, for others it’s when they feel threatened and for the raccoon that you’ve just rescued, it’s apparently food because it’s limping towards your fridge, trying to nudge the door open.

“Food?” You ask as you catch up with it. “Okay, but first we gotta clean your hands,” You smile, as you bring the bottle of hand sanitizer down from the counter to sanitize its tiny little hands. An audible coo leaves your lips as you watch it rub its small palms together. Raccoons, you sigh lovingly. How could anyone hate them?

You open the door to your fridge, humming as you look at the contents of it, or perhaps lack of it.

“Sandwich?” You ask. All you had in your fridge was one half of the grilled cheese sandwich you had made last night. “I mean that’s all I have anyway, so the answer is going to have to be yes,” You chuckle as you pop it into the microwave.

“Just wait here,” You say as you move towards your closet to grab another towel. A cleaner and much larger one because you know once the raccoon shifted back, it was going to be stark naked and you didn’t want any… surprises. The microwave dings, and you hear the raccoon let out excited squeals, attempting to climb up onto the counter despite its injury.

You laugh, bringing the plate down to the floor before you watched it grab the sandwich with its little hands. The raccoon was absolutely adorable, munching on its sandwich and you’ll admit you’re quite a fan of the animal, if it wasn’t already evident from the numerous raccoon plushies sat on your bed. It’s a guilty pleasure but you often watch cute raccoon videos in your free time. Raccoons just have those cute tiny hands and that adorable little face and some of them are so chubby that all you wanted to do was pick them up and cuddle them. You’re sort of lost in your own thoughts about raccoons that it takes the tugging of the towel to bring you back to earth. When you look back down, you realise that in those few minutes your new raccoon buddy has finished the sandwich, which meant it was going to shift back soon. It’s probably why it had pulled at that towel with such urgency. It doesn’t get too far, just out of your small little kitchen before you hear a loud thump and a subsequent groan.

You quickly move towards the sink to wash the plate, trying to pretend like this was totally normal. The reality of the situation suddenly hit you like an oncoming train and so you continue pretending that your heart isn’t beating at 1000 miles per minute, that you didn’t have a complete stranger in your house and maybe you realize how naïve and stupid you are now that there’s a full grown human that you don’t know in your apartment. What’s worse is that it’s a man and you know that because that voice is way too deep for it to be a woman’s and—

“Hello.”

“Umm, hi,” You mumble, looking up from the plate that you have just set aside to see a half-naked man staring back at you. It takes you a second, maybe two before you go, oh because you’ve got the campus’ prized fuckboy, Jeon Jungkook, in your apartment... wearing nothing but a towel on his hips.

“Oh my god,” He shakes his head. “I just can’t believe it’s actually you. I mean I sort of realized in the sewer, but I digress. It’s you! Y/N the meme girl!” He laughs. “You know the uhh that—” He stops his sentence halfway, drop-kicking the air in front of him. “—that girl.”

“Yes,” You sigh. “I’m that girl. All thanks to you, Jeon Jungkook the professional meme maker.”

“I just edited funny text on the video,” He shrugs. “It’s basically all you… and Choi Junho of course. That sucker,” He laughs.

God, if there was one person you didn’t want the raccoon to be, it would be Jungkook. Scratch that, there’s two people you didn’t want it to be and one of them is Jungkook and the other would be Choi Junho, but you are well aware that Junho is no raccoon.

Junho is a beloved player on the college basketball team. People worship the ground he walks on and everyone, and really everyone loves him. He’s the reason your college’s basketball team has been doing so well. Back in freshman year, like everyone else, you liked him too. When you found out you were sharing a discussion section of one of your classes with him, you were ecstatic. You just wanted to be able to say ‘Oh yeah Junho and I are in the same discussion section. He’s pretty nice.’ at parties to make others envious and not really anything more than that. You never expected to know him any more than the usual classmate whom you would talk to in class and then smile politely at if you were to bump into each other in public, and for a long time, it was just that.

Then, one night at some Halloween house party, you bumped into him while you were pouring yourself a drink. He seemed sober for the most part and so were you. A few glasses later however, neither of you were sober and in some dark corner of the house, he had his tongue down your throat, his hands roaming all over your body. He kept asking if you wanted to go upstairs and for a moment you felt... good, because look at you, you were just seconds away from sleeping with arguably the most popular guy on campus. Yet, something about it didn’t sit right with you. Maybe it was the contents of your stomach that was threatening to come out any second now. So, you said no, respectfully, and told him you were comfortable right there. Honestly, you thought after that he would move on to someone else, his next prey or whatever, but he hung around, asked if you wanted to head back to his place, asked if he could walk you home, asked if you wanted to reconsider going upstairs. You got away from him somehow, you couldn’t remember how but you do remember dreading the fact that you would have to see him in discussion after the weekend.

You hoped that it had been the alcohol that made Junho so… creepy, that perhaps he would have forgotten everything and gone back to just knowing you as that person in his discussion section, but come Monday, you realised he had no intention of forgetting. He flirted with you shamelessly, pressuring you to go out on a date with him, always repeating himself even when you had respectfully declined, numerous times. Eventually, hes seemed to get the hint and instead, he would ask to meet at the library on the pretext of getting some work done, but then halfway through studying you could feel his hand on your knee. Although you guessed that could be a friendly gesture, it made you uncomfortable and so you would always find an excuse to leave.

The worst part of all of it though was the fact that he didn’t feel guilty or bad or any sort whenever he saw how uncomfortable he made you. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it, like it was some sick game for him. He would text you all the time, find ways to sit next to you in lecture and discussion, show up at parties you were at, tried to befriend your friends. You felt like you couldn’t really tell anyone about the situation because Junho was well, Junho. He was popular, well-liked and if you were to say that you felt like he was borderline stalking you, you would be labelled as pretentious or an attention seeker.

You felt helpless. There was nothing you could do, because his aura in general scared you. He was a predator. You knew just from his scent. Predator shifters are rare, they are revered and Junho was rather proud he was one. He was a panther and when he was toying with you, you could see it in his expression, the mischievousness and power that he held. Whenever you were near him, you felt like you were in danger. You felt like if you said no one more time, he would just find ways to make you say yes. So, you tried your best to isolate yourself and you tried to find excuses so you could attend a different discussion section. You even changed your phone number. You did everything you could to get away from him. It did nothing to deter him though and he even bothered you well through winter break and into the following semester.

Then came the fateful day. Valentine’s Day. He had stopped you in the middle of the quad, with a box of chocolates in hand, handing it to you so everyone could see, so you were under pressure to accept. You didn’t want to. You knew that if you did, he would get the wrong idea and so you said no thank you, soft and quiet so nobody but him could hear. He insisted and put the box into your hand with that sick, sick smile on his lips. Everyone was cooing, smiling and you didn’t want that. You didn’t like it. You didn’t like that all eyes were on you, all the attention was on you and most of all you didn’t like the way he was looking at you like he had won, that you were his prey for the taking now. You wanted to run, your prey instincts told you to, but you know doing that meant that he would still be the winner so, you did what you thought was best. You took a deep breath, stretching your hand out, you dropped the box of chocolates and kicked it as high and as far as you could. You could hear gasps of horror, the look of surprise on everyone’s face and in the commotion of it all, you took your chance to escape. You were still shaking even when you went to bed that night.

The aftermath of it all was uncontrollable. There were so many videos of it online, from numerous angles. It was starting to get out of hand and you were receiving messages from strangers, half of them cussing you out, wishing you misfortune and the other half congratulating you on your— in their words— big dick energy. It was absolute chaos but you had achieved what you wanted and Junho was nowhere to be seen… until of course Jungkook came into the picture.

See, it was all fine and dandy until the ever wonderful Jeon Jungkook decided to produce numerous meme edits of the incident. They had titles like me @ my responsibilities and me @ my money, with accompanying music and video effects. What was a video that was popular campus wide soon became a viral video that had spread all across the world. Everyone and really, everyone recognized you as the girl who drop-kicked some loser’s gift… which meant now everyone recognized Junho as the loser who got his gift drop-kicked.

There was a shift of attitude on campus and suddenly people either feared you or wanted to be your friend. You were rumoured to be either a poisonous prey, or the more popular theory, some predator, perhaps a lion. That could not be any further from the truth, but in any case, you liked that. It meant that people feared you so, you played into that belief, made people around you think that you were in fact a predator when you were a prey. Lion shifters were extremely rare, the rarest of the rare and so you achieved that stay away from her status that you could have previously only dreamed of. You bought some predator scent spray online and you had the resting bitch face to match too and so that’s how sophomore year went for you. Good, quiet. People admired you from afar, kept their distance. It was nice and you didn’t have to fear walking around campus at night because you knew that people knew not to come near you. All except one, of course.

Choi Junho was not one to back down and so he came up to you when you were on your routine walk home from the library, alone and vulnerable. First, he appeared apologetic, head bowed down, shifting his weight from one feet to another, but the next second, he had you pinned against the wall, hand on your throat.

“You poor little thing,” He smirked. “You may have everyone fooled but oh, not me.”

His grip on your throat tightened and you could see it, his eyes beginning to change, that familiar feral glow beginning to show.

“I knew you liked playing games. You like being hunted, don’t you?” He licked the corners of his lips. “You want me to chase you, you want to feel powerful, but in the end you want me to put you in your place, don’t you?”

You struggled against him, gasping, your hand trying to loosen the grip he has around your neck.

“I love it when you look like this,” He grinned, wiping away your tears with his free hand. “All desperate and weak for me.”

Your fingers finally closed around the can in your pocket and with the little strength you had left, you sprayed it in his eyes, hoping to god that it actually works. The boy in front of you cried out in pain, crumpling to the ground as he wiped his eyes. You took the opportunity to kick him right in the gonads, a few times too many. People like him should never be allowed to reproduce. You told yourself it was in self-defence, but you knew it was mostly for revenge. That was the last time he bothered you. You never tried to report the whole incident. You had no proof anyway so, you continue to pretend like it was all a dream, or rather a nightmare. Junho’s still the campus’ beloved basketball star and you’re only one of the many girls he had tried to get with. You wonder if there are other girls like you out there, girls who had to suffer under his hands. That’s a thought you keep locked far, far away.

“Seems like I uhh, brought up some bad memories,” Jungkook mumbles when he notices the grimace on your face. You realize you’ve been silent for way too long and so you shake yourself out of it, bringing your attention back to the boy in front of you.

“Something like that I guess…” You murmur. “Anyway, so, you umm want to get cleaned up? I have some oversized shirts and sweatpants that you might fit. Might.”

“As long as they’re not Junho’s,” He jokes and all that garners out of you is a sneer.

“They’re mine,” You mumble, walking towards your closet to pull out some clothes. “Not fashionable in the least, but it’s better than walking out there naked.”

“Uhh debatable but okay, fine, true,” He nods as he looks to see if the clothes would fit. “Thanks… for the clothes and for umm everything, really. I’m not sure how long I would have been stuck down there... and with the gash and all, it could’ve ended badly for me.” He points to the cut on his chest which is considerably less menacing than when it took up almost half his body when he was in his animal form.

“It’s no big deal,” You mumble. “And yeah we’ll get that wound sorted out after you shower. Make sure to clean the area when you’re in there.”

“Yes ma’am,” He salutes, before you point him in the direction of your bathroom.

This surely wasn’t the way you imagined meeting the guy who propelled you to meme stardom. You expected it to be more hostile but then again, he’s injured and you can’t beat someone when they’re down can you? But, perhaps what surprised you more than anything was the fact that he was your kin, a prey like you and also, a liar.

See, Jungkook is a forward on the football team, a college athlete and that meant two things. One, he is a predator and two, he’s well-liked. Though the latter is unfortunately an undeniable truth, the first one however, considering what you’ve seen tonight is definitely false. This is important because only predators are allowed to be athletes and a major perk of being an athlete is the scholarship that comes along with it. No matter how good prey shifters are at a certain sport, they would never get to be an athlete and would instead have to compete for academic scholarships which are extremely hard to obtain. So the big question here is how did that fluffy little raccoon book his spot on the football team?

You guess he looks the part of a predator shifter, with a lean body and a fair amount of muscle mass… (not that you were looking at his body at all that is). Also, the fact that he doesn’t cower away from social interaction helped with the predator persona as most prey shifters tend to keep to themselves. Maybe you ought to take a pointer or two from him.

To you, it’s odd that he’s on the football team. He wasn’t an exceptional athlete as per se, in fact if you remember correctly, he spends most matches on the bench. Though you’d argue that even so, he seemed to be more popular than the guys who usually made it onto the first team.

He’s known on campus for being that guy, you know that 10/10 boyfriend guy. He’s the kind of guy you’d take home to your parents because you know they’ll love him, but he’s also the kind of guy that would fuck your brains out... but also the kind of guy that would take you on cute little dates. Yeah, you know, that guy. You’re not sure why you know all of this. Probably because in your first year at the dorms, those around you would not shut up about him, ever. From what you know, he got around but was always clear that he never wanted anything more. He wasn’t the kind of guy to forget names or lead someone on. He was always respectful. From the short flings he had, they always seemed to end... well, on mutual terms and the girls never had anything bad to say other than that he just wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. Rather, a wholesome fuckboy, if one ever existed.

You could definitely see it. He’s nice, charismatic, that much you deduce as he attempts to make small talk with you now that he’s done with his shower, but you realize he is also definitely trying to avoid getting his wound tended to. You’re not sure if it’s because he wanted to be half naked just a little while longer to garner a reaction out of you or if he was genuinely afraid of the pain that comes with applying antiseptic cream to a raw wound.

“Look, if you don’t want to do it, it’s fine,” You sigh, from where you’re seated on your bed. “I’m not your mother, you can do whatever you want.”

“No, I know it has to happen, but it… it stings,” He frowns, joining you. “Cleaning the area with water was already painful enough.”

“Well, just say whenever you’re ready then,” You sigh, turning away from him to turn on the TV.

“Okay, fine, just do it now,” He mumbles. “But— but be… gentle.”

You almost laugh at the way he looks in front of you right now, all timid and afraid. It was a huge contrast to how he appeared on the banners around school, all proud in his football jersey with his arms folded across his chest.

He winces every so often as you apply the cream to his wound, soft whimpers leaving his lips. You’re trying your best to be delicate, and you think you’re doing quite a fine job because halfway through when you look up at the boy, he’s smiling.

“I wonder what the people would say if they saw big, mean, lion predator tending to my wound right now uwu,” He coos, when your eyes finally meet his.

“Did you actually just say uwu out loud?” You gawk, pulling your focus away from his wound. “You know it’s an emoticon right?”

“Yes, but it’s also a feeling. See, uwu,” He coos again, his voice pitched higher. “It’s a feeling,” He reaffirms, grinning, as if what he had just said made perfect sense.

“Maybe I’ll just stick this cotton bud into your wound, and we’ll see how uwu you’re feeling.”

“Please… please don’t do that,” He grimaces.

Though the wound is not deep, you do think he should at least go get checked for the numerous bruises that litter his skin. He’s in pain, you know that for sure and he’s trying to downplay how much exactly, but you are no fool. Considering that it was a bad fall, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a hairline fracture on one of his limbs. Jungkook waves your concern away, simply thanking you when you bandage his wound. He finally, finally puts on his shirt and you expect him to dash out of your house, but he seems to linger, as if he had something to say but he wasn’t quite sure how to say it.

“I see you’re a fan of mine,” He smiles, pointing to the numerous raccoon memorabilia that decorates your bed and side-table.

“Don’t read too much into it. I like the animal, yes, but I didn’t know you were one so, not to worry, I am not a member of the Jungkook fanclub.”

“That’s a shame. I hear the club has nice perks, like you know, quality time with me,” He smirks. “Which honestly speaking, is a rare commodity.”

“My, now I’m just dying to be in the club,” You huff, rolling your eyes. “You know, wouldn’t your fans be disappointed to find out that the guy they’re fawning over is not in fact a predator but a prey instead.”

“About that…” He sighs, hands nervously tugging at the ends of his shirt. “You know we’re in the same boat, don’t you? We’re both sheep in wolves clothing.”

“Nice twist on the idiom, I like it,” You nod. “But, I feel like you’re trying to make a point here. What is it?”

“That if you tell on me, then I’m telling on you,” He mumbles. “I’m not a fan of blackmail but I really, really need this scholarship.”

“Nice to know you think so poorly of me even after all I’ve done tonight but just so you know I have no interest in revealing your secret.”

“That’s not… that’s not how I meant for it to come out,” He sulks. “I just needed to make sure that you and I are on the same page.”

“Yeah, I understand,” You murmur. “I am curious though. How did you cheat the medical test? How did you get them to believe you’re a bear when in fact you’re a raccoon? Shouldn’t you have gone for a more believable animal like say… a fox?”

“Well, for someone who’s such a huge fan of raccoons I’m disappointed by the fact that you aren’t aware that raccoons are more closely related to bears than to either the cat or dog family,” He mumbles. “Thus, I did pick the most believable animal.”

“Well, you learn something new every day,” You hum. “Okay, but that still doesn’t explain how—”

“I hired someone to change the results for me.”

“You can do that?”

“If you know the right people, yeah.”

“Well, apparently I’ve been hanging out with the wrong people,” You mumble. “And your scent… how do you work around that?”

“I can’t use the spray because I’ll basically sweat it all off so I use that supplement… you know the one you see sketchy ads of on TV?”

“Preydator! Tell your fears, see ya later!” You sing-song, imitating the ad you often saw on TV. The jingle was rather catchy. “That one? It actually works?”

“Yeah, for now, but who knows maybe in 20 years after they’ve done adequate research, they’ll tell me that it’s killing me slowly.”

“That’s very disconcerting to hear…” You frown. “If you’re a quote unquote certified predator then you could’ve avoided this by just applying for the academic scholarships. Why didn’t you do that? The requirements are extremely low if you’re a predator.”

“Because I’m good at football,” He says rather nonchalantly. “And I have a bone to pick with the athletic department. Preys should be allowed to be on the team if we’re good enough.”

You almost say but you aren’t that good at football but you guess making it on the bench of the first team is still a feat, so you decide to hold off on that thought.

“So, now that you know all my secrets, it’s only fair that you tell me one of yours,” He smiles. “What are you?”

“Hey, I never said we were going to trade secrets. You just decided to tell me all of yours.”

“Oh come on, that’s not fair,” He frowns. “At least let me guess. Then you can just say yes or no.”

“Go ahead,” You smile. You were positive he wasn’t going to get it right.

“Rabbit? No?” He queries and you shake your head. “What’s… what’s a prey with attitude? Because that’s what you are.”

You only gawk at him. This guy just says whatever he wants. You’re starting to think that everyone else sees a different side of Jungkook or maybe they just excuse his sass just because of his good looks.

“A… frog? Or oh… don’t tell me you’re an insect shifter,” He grumbles with mild disgust.

“You know, that’s really mean but no, I am not an insect shifter.”

“You sure? You could easily be a black widow or maybe you’re one of those poisonous animals like that poisonous sea snail or—”

“Okay,” You huff, annoyed with the boy now. You rise to your feet, pulling him along with you. “You know this was a really nice chat and a very interesting evening, but I have an early class tomorrow so if you could find your way home now, that would be great.”

“But I still don’t know what you are yet,” He frowns.

“Boohoo, neither does most of the campus.”

“See, a prey with an attitude!” He exclaims. “Come on, I’m close, I know it. At least give me a clue!”

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” You smile, effectively pushing him out of your apartment with a kick.

“Throwing out an injured comrade like this. You’re heartless,” He fake sobs from the other side of the door before you hear him sigh and make his way down the hallway and out of your life, hopefully forever. Perhaps that was wishful thinking because in a few short minutes you hear hurried footsteps out in the hallway. You pay it no mind, or at least you try to do so but then you see shadows dancing just outside of your door, and when you finally get up to look through the tiny peephole, you find Jungkook standing out there, pacing back and forth as he silently practices a speech.

“Can I help you?” You question after having opened your door to find a very stunned Jungkook.

“Well, Y/N, it’s uhh nice to see you again,” He smiles, nervously so. “You see, the thing is I uhh lost my keys in the sewer, obviously and… you know the management office to my building isn’t open because it’s so late and—”

“Surely you have friends you could call up for help.”

“Well, firstly I doubt they’ll pick up a call this late at night and secondly, since I already shifted, I smell like prey and guess what everyone thinks I am,” He mumbles. “In case you’re struggling, the answer is not prey.”

“I’ll let you borrow my predator scent spray.”

“That’s a novel idea,” He nods, admitting. “But you can also let me stay the night.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“You know more about me than anyone on campus does. I’d argue that you know me very well,” He hums.

“Jungkook.”

“Y/N.”

You sigh, moving to shut the door on him because it was way past your bed time and you do not have the energy to have this conversation right now.

“Please. There’s a lot at stake here,” He begs, using his foot to stop the door. “You know what it’s like for us when we have to lie under pressure… We don’t do very well.”

“You’ve been lying your entire college career so I think you’re pretty good at it.”

“Listen, if there’s any inkling of me being a prey, my scholarship is gone. It’s a risk I don’t want to take,” He frowns. “The lie I tell to my teammates and my coaches, the predator act that I put on, that’s been carefully curated and I’ve gone over it ten thousand times in my head to make sure it’s perfect. I can lie, yes, but only when I’ve had time to prepare. I know you know that too.”

“Fine,” You grumble, moving aside. “You can stay, but… behave.”

“Yes ma’am,” He salutes once you let him through your door. “Thank you so much. Seriously.”

“You owe me.”

“Yes, undoubtedly. For everything, really,” He mumbles, shy and timid. His sentence is sincere, one you weren’t exactly expecting considering how snarky he had been earlier. He follows behind you closely, stopping beside the bed when he reaches it. You tuck yourself in from the other side and you’re turning to him, ready to deliver your whole spiel of if I find your hand anywhere remotely inappropriate I am going to saw it off, only to find him placing a pillow on your floor.

“What are you doing?” You query, watching him with furrowed eyebrows.

“Going to bed?”

“Why are you putting the pillow on the floor?”

“Well, because I can tell you don’t really want to have me here and I’m probably overstepping some boundaries and I just don’t want to impose really so I’m good with the floor.”

Even though it’s happened a fair few times now, you still find it oddly amusing to see Jungkook behaving like a prey shifter. Always cautious, always timid in unfamiliar situations. Though you do or rather did have some reservations about him, you can tell that he’s perfectly harmless.

“You can sleep on the bed,” You murmur.

“A-are you sure? I mean really you’ve done enough for me and it’s going to be morning in a few hours so it’s okay, really.”

“Jungkook, just get in the bed,” You groan. “You’re making me feel bad now.”

“I just need you to be 100% sure you’re okay with that.”

“Seriously, if you keep asking, I’m just going to kick you out of the apartment.”

“Okay, okay, I’m getting into the bed,” He concedes, quickly picking up the pillow. “Thank you,” He whispers once he finally settles under the blanket.

If he says anything after that, you don’t hear it. It had taken you less than a minute to fall asleep. When you awake in the morning, you expect to find the boy all sprawled out on his side of the bed but instead the covers on his side has been neatly folded, the pillow and your raccoon plushies all arranged in an orderly fashion. Jungkook sure was full of surprises, you note.

Later on when you head to the bathroom, you find numerous post-it notes stuck onto your mirror, all of them filled with apologies.

Y/N, I had to use your predator spray… Really sorry about that and actually just really sorry about the whole of last night. Thank you for being so kind and considerate and though I can’t see you right now, I know you’re making that face. The one you make when you think I’m being sarcastic but really I owe you. Big time. I’ll make it up to you… Though I have a feeling one way you want me to make it up to you is by just never having to see me again haha. If that is so, consider it done.

Love, the biggest member of the Y/N fanclub.

You almost laugh when you reach the end of the note. There’s even a poorly drawn raccoon to punctuate his sign-off. You guess he deserves an A for effort. What surprises you about the note though is how well he had read you from just that one night alone. Perhaps you’re more of an open book than you thought. In any case, you’re glad that last night would be the one and only interaction with him because judging from your past experiences with athletes, you know they only leave you with headaches so, you’re glad that both you and Jungkook are on the same page. In some way, the previous night seems like a fever dream, the whole entire experience so outlandish that you would have never even thought to dream it and for a week or two, you forget that it even happened until you get a reminder of the day, much belatedly.

You come home one day to find a box in front of your door. It has no address and has nothing to indicate the contents of it, until of course you flip it to find a drawing of a raccoon, this time a much better one. In fact it seems like he spent quite some time on it. When you open the box, you find the clothes you had lent Jungkook, washed and even ironed. What makes you smile though isn’t that but rather the small raccoon plushies you find, along with keychains and a phone case. A little note in the box tells you that Jungkook felt odd buying stuff that resembled him but he did owe you and that he hoped this in some way evened out the debt he owed. You think you’re starting to see why everyone goes on and on about how nice he is. At the core, he really is a sweet person. Annoying at times, but sweet nonetheless. In any case, the passing interaction you had with him was nice though you think this will probably be the last you hear from him.

As much as you liked to believe that, you’ll come to find out that the universe seems to have other plans. Because you keep seeing him again and again, and with each time, he seems to knock down the defenses you’ve set up with practiced ease. In fact, it takes him no longer than a week to show up on your front door, begging you for help and like the fool that you are, you oblige.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! As always, feedback is appreciated (:

This was a self-indulgent fic and rly my version of crack tbh. Also this fic is in honour of my buddy that actually drop-kicked a gift he was given. Unlike OC, he was just a dickhead. I really shouldn’t laugh because the poor girl just wanted to give him chocolates but good god, every time I replay the scene in my head I can’t help but laugh. Man, high school was crazy.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts boulangerie #bts bookclub #jungkook fluff #raccoons are cute ):#the tame ones at least hahaha

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ramblefang · 4 years

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Runaway Raccoon; BNA ep.1

Preface

Just finished watching the first episode of BNA, so I now I’ll be writing my first impressions of it. And I’ll endeavor to do this for the whole series. It’s not exactly my first time trying this sort of thing, but I’m still inexperienced with it, so this might get messy. But, as is the intent with this blog, I’m just here to Ramble on about stuff anyway, so a mess is to be expected.

Before getting into the actual episode, I want to note that I’m only mostly going in blind. I’m primarily watching this after seeing stuff for it show up on my dashboard, so I know the names of the main characters (who haven’t yet been properly introduced) and a few general themes of the show. I also know that it was made by Studio Trigger, and I’ve been a fan of some of their anime (including Gurren Lagann, which I understand to be by many of the same people, even if it was under a different studio), so that will probably affect some of my thoughts on things.

Opening

Things start out with the opening, which sounds silly to say, but many shows don’t actually start with the OP, preferring to leave it until the end or the second episode—I assume it’s to not “spoil” introductions to the characters. Starting with the OP right out of the gates strikes me as preferring to set the tone, as well as showing off style and aesthetic.

As for the OP itself, I mostly noticed how the setting is very much “our world,” especially with the pseudo-branding. All of that is apparent through the episode as well; I particularly remember the pseudo-Red Bull stall that Michiru bought a drink from. I’m not too knowledgeable about music, so about all I can say is that I thought it was a bop—well, also that it kind of reminded me of “Bad Apple” for some reason.

Animal Rights

The episode proper starts with Michiru trying to get money from an ATM in a nondescript hallway. A lot of attention is paid [by the camera, not Michiru] to a poster next to the ATM celebrating “Animal Rights Day.” Next, some ruffians also come down the hallway, prompting Michiru to hide while they spray-paint something hateful over the poster.

Just this cold open hits pretty hard in light of the protests that have been going on this year. As far as I can understand just from this scene, Beastmen (the “Animals” in “Animal Rights” I assume) gained their own rights somewhat recently—certainly recently enough for open bigotry and racism to still be rampant. With the way the ruffians were armed and the message they left, we can assume that Michiru wasn’t overreacting and genuinely would have been danger if she was caught. And in light of this year’s protests—what started them and some of the reactionary response—I can’t help but feel like this sort of situation isn’t too far from present reality; it’s at least certainly very real in our history.

Speaking of protests, we also see some news about that sort of thing. Apparently people aren’t happy about Beastmen getting their own district? With this information juxtaposed with the previous scene, I’m led to believe that these people aren’t protesting segregation and desiring unity. I’m pretty sure these protesters don’t want Beastmen to have anywhere to live. Or, at the least, they don’t want resources to be spent on the beastmen, but that amounts to the same thing.

En Route

While Michiru “catches a bus,” she pulls out her phone to watch a video about the place she’s traveling to: Anima-City. It reminded me a little of the introduction to the city of Zootopia; though the context is very different. (Anima-City being the refuge of an underclass, whereas Zootopia is the pinnacle of city life.) Something strange about this video is that it seems to be from a pharmaceutical company, not a government body. Is the company the same thing as the government here? And pharmaceuticals specifically worries me a bit: makes me think of attempts to “cure” the beastmen.

Oh, somehow I haven’t mentioned it yet, but I can’t help but think of the beastmen from Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann and wonder if they could actually be the same. It’s been a while since I last watched TTGL, so I can’t quite recall how the politics around the Beastmen went and whether or not this BNA setting could fit in with it.

Anyway, before the video can finish, Michiru gets attacked by, what we learn to be, “beastman hunters” who specifically hang around routes to Anima-City. One of them even has the gall to say that they’d puke if they keep seeing more beastmen around there, but they’re the ones actively looking for beastmen to hunt! These people could just let the Beastmen be in their own city and not worry about them. Again, I still have our very real protests and history in mind: of lynchings and genocide.

Thankfully, Michiru is saved by some other beastmen. My first response to this fight though were concerns about the oppressed group were clearly being presented as powerful and threatening and how that may translate to reality (my head still being in that space and all), but then I caught myself thinking that and remembered to actually pay attention to context here. This is clearly righteous self-defense regardless of how rough they get with these hateful bigots. Beyond that, it’s simple catharsis to see the oppressed being able to fight back.

The leader of Michiru’s saviors is named Marie, and Michiru is apparently savvy enough to understand that Marie would be expecting payment. It’s an uncomfortable situation honestly. The way that Marie’s group were able to fight to protect her suddenly hangs over Michiru as a sort of threat. Though, I guess Marie had intended to ask for payment after ensuring Michiru’s safe passage to Anima-City, so it’s just the exchange happening here that makes it seem especially threatening. Still, this grift makes clear beastmen aren’t perfect people either.

Now that I’m thinking about it, this sets up for the mercenaries that show up in the final part of the episode, showing how money can still lead Beastmen to harm one another, to varying degrees.

I wonder how Marie will fit in later. I do recall her showing up in the OP, so I imagine she has a bigger part to play. Maybe she has some sort of connection to Shiro.

Festival

(Ugh, this is going longer than intended with me trying to recap stuff. This method probably isn’t sustainable for me. Just try to make your points!)

Michiru’s entrance to Anima-City was quite unexpected. It honestly doesn’t make much sense if you think about it too literally; instead, it’s totally about getting certain feelings across. I think we’re supposed to get the idea that despite Michiru being a beastman herself, as an outsider, she still finds the idea of a place entirely filled with beastmen intimidating (especially given what we learn about her at the end of the episode: her having been human). And it also impresses upon the audience that beastmen can be legitimately threatening and even terrifying; I imagine they’ll continue to play with that idea going forward.

There’s also that wolf on the rooftops that Michiru sees. I wonder if that’s actually Shiro? The colors seem about right, and Shiro is a wolf himself. And I think the OP hinted at them being able to transform into more feral, four-legged forms? I don’t think we see such a thing directly, but there were some shadows that I remember.

Anyway, Michiru’s fears are cast aside once it’s revealed that everyone was just gathering for a festival and that they weren’t actually gathering to attack her or something. Michiru is able to let loose and just be herself: no need for a cloak or scurrying into vents.

Political Intrigue

After the mayor of Anima-City—the same person we saw on the video earlier who is also probably connected to that pharmaceutical company—shows up on a big screen to talk about the festival being a celebration of the city’s 10th anniversary, we cut to her in a call with the actual mayor of the city. I have to remind myself that despite the name, Anima-City is just the “beastman district” of a larger city. Of particular interest from this conversation is the mayor saying they can have this district so long as they don’t prove to be “dangerous”. The thing is that it’s entirely up to the human government whether they are “dangerous” or not; I imagine they can spin anything to make the beastmen out as dangerous or even fabricate something if necessary.

I figure the mercenaries and their terrorist attack on the festival could be connected to those sorts of plans. I also took note of the way that the mercenaries used guns and Shiro didn’t. I wonder if that will be something to clue the audience in to who has connections with humans and/or anti-beastmen sentiment.

Ideology

Lastly, I want to take note of the differing ideologies between Michiru and Shiro. Shiro has a very black-and-white view on things: beastmen good, humans bad. Shiro is also likely willing to kill people to fight for his ideals and to protect what he cares about. Michiru has a more nuanced view of there being good humans and bad humans, good beastmen and bad beastmen. But she also comes off as having a naive ideal of nonviolence in defending these people whose attack could have (and maybe actually did) hurt a lot of people at the festival. To be fair to Michiru though, it’s not really right for Shiro to be judge, jury, and executioner here. He’s already incapacitated them, and I imagine there are more proper ways to handle these terrorists than offing them in an alley.

Still, my current impression is that neither of their perspectives are meant to be “correct” right from the start. I imagine they’ll have to learn from one another. Regardless, I hope things end up being more about institutional powers being bad rather than leaving things at just individual people being bad. Like, even if there ends up being a main villain to defeat, I hope that villain serves to represent the power of their position rather than the villain being a uniquely evil person.

Closing

Okay, I think that’s all I have to write about the first episode. Honestly, I’ll probably need to work on Rambling less, because I don’t know if I can keep up with writing so much every episode. I had been thinking of doing these daily (with some breaks in the week maybe), but maybe I’ll do an episode every other day if this is the sort of thing I’ll end up with.

#bna #first impressions

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