Tumgik
#not even writing the character's name here in case that's a spoiler
lustlovehart · 19 days
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[ Monsters List ] - Sensitive info with targets abilities
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A/n: Not my usual writing at all! these details are relationship stuff each character has with the reader that isn’t shown in the main story. (Some details are omitted to avoid spoilers). Now that this is done, I’ll be going back to the main story line now ^^. If i’m missing any warnings, please say so.
Pairing: [Monster!Twst x Reader] Featuring, Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Trey, Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Azul, Jade, Floyd, Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Rook, Epel, Idia, Malleus, Lilia, Sebek, Silver, Rollo, & Neige.
Summary: Dear, [Name], Crowley just informed me he did not give the courtesy of listing all the beasts and their abilities into your possession, please allow me to be the one to aid you. Here are bullets of their names and prowesses, as well as species. Please, do stay safe and out of trouble, and remember to eat and sleep well. Love, From, Rollo.
“Did it send?” “I… I’m sorry Sir Rollo, it seems we were unable to reach [Name] in time…” “…What.”
Warnings: Some fuffy and some aren’t, Stalking, Mentions of Nsfw (Vil). Zombies (Ace, Deuce), Biting (Ace, Deuce, and Jamil), Squeezing? (Jamil, Floyd), Hints of possession in each section, Blood Drinking (Epel, Jade, Lilia), They’re all monsters that are evil so… Murder, Kisses (Kalim, Floyd, Malleus), Blood,
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Prologue Chapter
Riddle Rosehearts [ Ghost ]
- Warning: Capable of Magic. [ Magic is a mystery in the field, all that is known is it’s abilities monsters have that aren’t typically in their species skillset, as well as being especially powerful to utilize it ]
- He posses the abilities of, phasing, possession, kinesis (many different kinds), invisibility, telepathy, and short moments of time where he can have a physical body. He tends to forget he’s a ghost leading to numerous times where you’ve accidentally injuried yourself and he rushes to your side to give aid, only for his to hand phase through you instead of truly helping. He feels guilty not being able to help you.
There’s a secret part of him that feels less guilty and more angry, about being incapable of touching you all the time. Sometimes, he wishes he was Ace just so he could wrap some part of him around you, but alas, he can only do so in short intervals, which just… isn’t enough.
- Has a habit of just, watching. You’ve caught him at your window at night. He insists coming in without permission is unlawful, to which you tell him looking at you through glass is just plain creepy. You now invite him for tea parties, yet that still doesn’t stop him from longingly gazing through the glass that separates you two. (freak)
- Glows a bright red when he’s either angry or extremely flustered. You walked in one time when the former was happening and were temporarily blinded, in your own temporary home no less…
With the latter… he was helping you figure out a crossword puzzle from a lost book you had found during the night. When he helped you figure it out, he swears your smile was so bright he was blinded. In your case, at least you didn’t need a lantern to see the page anymore.
- He has numerous stitches on his body, his mouth, his neck, and his heart, or at least, where it would’ve been had he still had it. In the short times when he decides to take on a physical form, he enjoys letting your hands trace over the numerous threads through his skin… He won’t admit it, but it’s a comfort.
- When he’s working, his exposition completely changes. You get scared of him, you forget just how determined he is to being the pinnacle of perfection, even as a monster.
- Survival: Fear and Grievances, prays on victims through Possesion and death.
Ace Trappola & Deuce Spade [ Zombies ]
- Infectious Bites. There have been many close calls where the two almost bit you, secretly hoping to turn you into them in their delusions of being with you forever, it never works though cause when they try, you turn and give them a smile that haunts them so bad they can’t bear the thought of you hating them. The idea always rears its ugly head back to them, but then you treat the two like a regular human and, unknowingly, save yourself just a little longer.
- Anatomy Control (Disassembling limbs and still having control). Deuce has a very common occurring tendency, that leads him to lose his limbs on occasion. He can still feel what they feel, but when they separate from him, they tend to have a mind of their own. There have been several times where you’ve been the one to return a limb, typically his hand, and he’s all fidgety cause it just refuses to let go of you.
“I… I promise this doesn’t usually happen…! I have no idea why it won’t let go of you” with how lovingly it was stroking your hand earlier (which you won’t mention to Deuce)… You’re not too sure either… Does it like the feeling of warmth? “Next time this happens, just… Feel free to stab it” he looks dejected, but you accept his offer nonetheless.
- Ace has asked to sleep with you in your bed because his grave is so cold and lonely. You wouldn’t want him dying alone a second time right? That’s too cruel. He was surprised when you accepted, even more so when you said there weren’t rules like “You have to stay on this side of the bed!” or “Don’t touch me!”, he asked you if you had a thing for him, to which you only quirk up your eyebrow at his question.
“Hm…? I’ve slept with someone before, I don’t think it’s that serious.” … What. Who’s this someone?! He doesn’t end up sleeping as he’s left wondering who you’ve been with before him, little does he know this someone was just a reserved monster hunter who was watching over you with a fever.
- They’re the most attached to you, in a physical sense. Considering at least one, or even more, of the limbs on the duo is just bones, along with Deuce missing an eye and Ace missing part of his face, it’s a bit hard for them to go out without giving people a heart attack. So… They break into wherever you’re temporarily staying, which is typically an abandoned house, and accompany you in every location they possibly can. One very worrying thing they do, is stick their limbs in your bag. They won’t admit it but, it’s cause they miss you. You need to tell them sticking Ace’s eye in there to keep watch is NOT okay.
- Survival: Eating Humans
Cater Diamond [ Ghost…? ]
- Phasing, possession, invisibility, telepathy. Though you don’t see him use any of these capabilities very much. You wonder why but never go through with asking him, how could you when he looks so happy to be in your presence? At least, you think he’s happy. You can never tell if it’s genuine or not… His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes like everyone else…
- Whenever he decides to spend his time with you, his face is never close enough in view for you to decipher any real features of his. What color are his eyes? What does his nose look like? Is the diamond you remember on him even there? The basics of a face are in your memory, but you can never remember the more eunique traits of his. You… Don’t know why that is at all. It feels like you’re forgetting something from the first meeting you had with Cater, but your suspicions tell you it had something to do with his face.
- Even though he’s a ghost, it feels like he forgets something about that sometimes… It’s different from Riddle, who simply forgets he no longer has a physical body, it’s like he doesn’t remember he even died in the first place. You’ve seen him all alone, the sunny disposition he proposes to everyone is gone, a hollow feeling in his vicinity. You couldn’t hear it clearly, the only word heard at all being sisters.
- The moment he sees you it’s like he’s scrambling to change his disposition, walking up to you casually as he mentions how cute you look today, ahh you should take him shopping! He’ll be discreet don’t worry—
“Cater, how did you die?”
“Wha—? W-who cares about that, come on just take me to town kay’?” you do end up bringing him as he points at things he’ll never be able to use, commenting on how cute they would be to have and show off, even attempting to wrap his arm around your shoulder before laughing off at his arm phasing through your body and making your spine shiver.
You don’t miss the way his laugh is more forced than usual, and obvious distress at what happened. Why is he so upset he can’t touch you? Is there a reason he wants to so bad? For once, you wanna know.
“Cater, lets go on a date again.”
“I didn’t know you were so up-front…! But, if you’re asking then I just can’t say no can I?”
- Survival: Fear and Grievances, prays on victims through Possesion and death(?)
Trey Clover [ Frankenstein ]
- The sight of a giant, buff, green, adult man, hovering over you like a doting boyfriend as you bake is certainly a domestic sight to behold. Though it becomes less heartwarming when you remember this scientifically resurrected man is 8 feet tall, he can basically reach the top shelf when he’s kneeling.
- Just like the zombies of Heartslaybul, Trey can disassemble his limbs, but he has more control over it than the other two… You’ve had a fair share of moments where you’re trying to eat and a stitched up hand crawls towards you with a piece of cake., it’s sweet, but horrifying in the dark.
- He’s a glorified brick wall, if brick walls could also fight back at insane speeds. You watched him unintentionally scare off another Monster Hunter once, they weren't intimidated by his size at all, even attempting to throw a bunch at him to show off. Their try immediately backfired as Trey stood unfazed, watching them run away cradling their hand. Before you can blink, Trey’s already towering over you asking if there was a pastry he should try making for you. Honestly… You need to tell Crowley to hire better employees.
- Trey has electrocuted you once. Totally unintentional on his part, but if someone asked him what he thought when he did it, he would tell them with a soft smile you look cute shocked. Meanwhile, you’re on the other side of the room trying to make sure Trey doesn’t increase the voltage next time he tries holding you. Now, everytime he attempts to do just that, you’re quick to jump out the way. He’ll smile softly but he can’t deny he’s a little disheartened... Seems he’ll just have to rebuild that trust.
- Despite all the stitches on his body, unlike Riddle, there aren’t open wounds on his body, so he’s technically the only one who can accompany you without drawing too much attention. It’s a secret kept between the two of you, but whenever you head into the square, you both walk to as many bakeries as possible, tasting whatever you can afford. Whenever he put something in his mouth, he’d make an offhand comment about his family. You wonder… How did Trey even resurrect like this?
- Survival: Undocumented
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Leona Kingscholar [ Beastman Mummy ]
- Warning: Capable of Magic.
- His skin is wrapped in so many bandages, all of them he can bend at his will. You’re curious as to what he looks like under the fabric, but one glare and the feeling of binds grappling around your body is enough for you to reconsider. That’s only if you attempt to look underneath, if not, he’ll sit in silence as you admire each carefully placed bind, cracking an eye open to watch you close in on him in curiosity.
- Watching him manipulate sand just to make places to sleep is entertaining, but being dragged into his timeframe of napping is surely not. The grip he has on you is ironclad as the two of you lay on the grainy bed, if you complain about sand getting into your clothes he’ll make a sly suggestion of “Just take off your clothes” before retreating into a slumber that you can’t shake him from. Even if you did decide to do that, how would you even take them off…? He won’t let go of you…!
- Despite being a former corpse, if he was still mortal, he’d essentially be an ultimate being. He’s super strong, fast, he’s quick at recovering, and even if you did cut off a limb of his he’d regrow in just half the time it took to get it off him. To make it worse he’s handsome, has an air of nonchalance, and a prince. You can just imagine the sound of Crewel and Rollo nagging at you for thinking such heinous things about a beast you’re meant to be killing.
- Whenever Leona controls the dead, you hide behind him. Not because you’re scared of his army, but because they remind you of Ace and Deuce, and you’d rather not see versions of themselves not heed danger whatsoever. You were half awake one time when he summoned corpses, your blurry eyes mistaking two of them for Deuce and Ace, wrapping your arms around their shoulders and pulling them into you. You only realize it’s not them when Leona grabs your from behind and hoists your body onto his shoulder like a sack.
“Wrong Zombies.” he makes an effort to have you sleep more before you accidentally kill yourself for such a small error.
- That little pain inducement ability he has? It sucks. It’s funny when he uses it to telepathically pinch Ruggie when he’s away. But, being reduced to a puddle of pure hurt and strain is the worst. Just watching Leona use it makes you remember… nevermind. Seeing his victims fall to their knees as he drains them of their life force is depressing, the burden of your defeat rearing its shame when he just knocks back and naps as their bodies turn to sand.
- Even when his tail wraps around your leg in a form of adoration, you can’t help but feel disdain for yourself remembering all those who are now dust on the ground because of him.
- Survival: Feeding off vitality
Ruggie Bucchi [ Werehyena ]
- Please tell Ruggie to stop tracking you with his senses and your stolen possessions, you’ve been scared too many times by him popping up out of nowhere. It’s even more horrifying in the night since his face looks so scary (His happy face looks the same as his hunting face. Don’t tell him though, he’ll rob you of your belongings in pettiness.)
- His eyes are so hypnotizing, both poetically and realistically. You’ve seen him mesmerize loving couples into handing over their belongings in his human form, only to revisit them later in the night to consume the rest of his steal. You asked him once what the point is in getting their stuff in the day only to kill them in the night, and he just smiles before softly placing a piece of bread on your lips.
You never take the bread from his hands, allowing him to feed you himself all the time, feeding you with the same hands stained with a bloody ending to a romance story. Maybe… it’ll get his pension for praying on lovers to soften, the thought of having his own might put his thoughts to bay… Who are you lying to that won’t happen, it’s how he lives, and how he will continue to live.
You know it won’t change when he’s desperately trying to hide the red stains under his nails.
- He’s very keen on being in your vicinity. No reason, you think, but he’s just always there, talking to you like normal. Which is weird, why does it feel so normal? The more you ponder it, maybe he’s more natural in your life cause of how equalized he is. He’s laidback yet cunning at the same time, not too good, but not too heinous (if you ignore his murders.) It’s a nice change of pace from people who see, to be heavily relent on one trait. Even though with a kinder personality feel weird… So, talking to Ruggie is a nice escape—
“Ruggie, did you take my wallet again?”
“How’d you think I paid for that bread? Shihihi— Augh! Ow okay I'm sorry—!” he makes it up to you by giving you his portion of food. You pretend to take it out of pettiness, but late at night when he’s sleep, you wrap it up and leave it on his bedside for when he goes hungry in the night.
When he does wake up, he knows who left the meal by his side, including the extras that lay next to it.
- Survival: Eating anything he can get his hands on
Jack Howl [ Human…? ]
- You always wondered how Jack got so built. Of course, if it’s from training, you would never undermine his efforts. But, his strength is so hardcore you doubt it’s even humanly possible. There had been a speech from Crowley in town you attended with both Jack and Rollo, all three of you booted to the very back. When you commented on how you couldn’t see, Rollo told you “We could always move forward—” But he’s cut off with shock when he watches Jack effortlessly carry you onto his shoulder, keeping you rested there for an hour straight without complaint, even shifting the way he holds you depending on what you wanted at the moment.
“We could’ve just gone up there, Jack… Now put them down…!”
“I don’t mind, They seem comfortable here anyway.” You can’t help but laugh at Rollo's overbearing nature, patting his head as you hold onto Jack.
- Hes never answered you before on when or how he joined the hunting organization, literally. He’s so silent when you ask, but the moment you switch to a different topic he’s chiming in his opinion like he didn’t just give you the silent treatment for 15 minutes. He told you he’d never lie to you, so, you guess he was telling the truth about that statement.
- Whenever Rollo is unavailable to you, Jack essentially works as his “replacement” according to Sam. You wouldn’t call him that though, Jack cares for you the same way Rollo does, but he’s a lot less… Restricted towards you. You can go out at midnight with him as long as you let him walk you back home, You can eat more junk food, and you can even go into the forest with him outside of a job! Rollo is oblivious to it, but there are moments where you might, just a tinsy weensy bit, prefer having Jack watch over you compared to him. You still love Rollo though! (Never say that to him directly, he will dissect what kinda of love it is you’re implying for him.)
- Overall, you can’t wait to see him again when you go to Savanaclaw! You’re curious as to why he hasn’t reached back to you after the 2 months he's been there though…
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Azul Ashengrotto [ Slime Kraken ]
- Warning: Capable of Magic.
- His true form is huge, being bigger than the size of 5 pirate ships combined. When he shrinks himself though, he’s only 7 feet long and huge, rather than 50 feet long and huge! Less scary right? (it’s not, you’re just trying to delude yourself.)
- It’s more dangerous when considering the substance he’s made out of is multi-purpose, making him invisible, essentially unkillable, and extremely capable in offense. You’ve seen it first hand considering you’ve been on the receiving end of his malice once. If you have to admit it though, it’s a lot scarier watching him use his skills on unknowing sailors. You collect what remains of them, and set them to rest far away from the sea.
- During the night, you’re divided on whether or not he can be considered horrifying, or beautiful. The twins glow, but they're limited to their one-color pallets. Azuls body, channels the light from his surroundings, making him more than one color sometimes. It’s a bit saddening when you notice how insecure he is about the material of his body, even using magic to appear more human-like in his state. If you tell him he’s handsome in his regular slime state, he’ll flush in embarrassment. (If you go a step further and hug him as such a gross substance, goodness, he’s already looking through books at the bottom of the ocean about human courting. Never mind you’re still trying to kill him, he’ll slay your heart if he has to!)
- If he uses Magic, he, can turn himself into a human for a little. He never really had a reason to go on land, he’s powerful in the sea, even ranked as one of the 7 most wanted monsters. But, now that you’re in his life, he wants to follow you and see what it would be like to live with you as a person. He doesn’t call it a date, but he thinks of it as one, even imagines himself telling Jade and Floyd (Little does he know they already beat him to the punch on that one…). You take him by the hand and the urge to stay on land with you becomes even stronger. But, so does the need to have you in the ocean with him.
- His tentacles along with his crazy strength, just make him an even harder foe to fight. Truly… What are you meant to do when you’re sitting down and in his sleep, he just clings onto you with a tentacle, and now you just, can’t leave? Besides he’s asleep, how are they latching onto you so hard… They don't have a mind of their own— You remember seeing an article that wrote about such a phenomenon. Okay, so maybe they do act of their own volition… why do they cling so desperately to you?
- Survival: Eating as much of whatever is available
Jade Leech & Floyd Leech [ Skeleton Sea Serpents ]
- During your stay in their abode, you’d wake up to Floyd squeezing you so hard you swear one of the bones on his tail were gonna puncture you. He’s too strong, horrifically strong to the point you fear getting squeezed more than twice a day could genuinely kill you. If you don’t voice this concern, you might risk your death, but if you do, he’ll restrain himself a bit (he couldn’t bear the thought of killing his shrimpy! You’re too fun to play with, let him kiss those sore places better yeah? Besides, just a little biting doesn’t hurt)
- Their senses are so enhanced, it’s just as scary as their strength. You had sliced your hand once, a medium amount of blood pouring out, and before you could even do anything, Jade had swam up to you and latched onto your wrist, pulling you down, almost tugging you into the water, and began licking the wound clean, his eyes empty and his sharp teeth dragging across your skin. You thought he was miles away…?! How did he know you were bleeding…? When he’s done, he pats your hand and smiles before engaging in a casual conversation about your day, uncharacteristically gentlemanly after such a scary display. If you ask him what that was about, he’ll innocently tilt his head and ask you “whatever are you talking about?”
- Just like Azul, their true forms are giant, not as big as his, but still equally as terrifying, the sharp bones that poke out their body further proving this fact.
- Extremely Fast, You’ve seen this first hand when Floyd jumped out of the water and dragged you through the sea to transport you to a “beach date” in the middle of the ocean, in only 3 minutes…He heard of these dates from Azul, “Said he was gonna take you on one, thought it’d be funny if I took yah instead.” You’re unable to inquire what he means by “Azul trying to take you out”, as he’s brightly smiling when he places a sailor's cap on you. The small sight of blood in his canines is all you need to know about where this hat came from.
- Their teeth are sharp that’s for sure, you watched Jade sink his teeth into unsuspecting marine life. The thought of him doing the same to ships 7 times the size of such animals, makes you worried for future sailors, and… For yourself. He flaunts those ivories at you so much, you’re worried he’s trying to hint at his insatiable hunger. (He’s doesn’t bite like Floyd does, but honestly, you’d prefer if he bit you instead of grazing his teeth on your skin so sensually)
- They like to drag you into the water with them. You’re sure it’s how they have fun, the only exposure to the human world other than you is Azul and artifacts they collect from ships they were responsible for destroying. So of course, they wouldn’t know the first thing of human play, yet… you have the underlying feeling they have a reason for doing such a thing that isn’t just entertainment.
- Survival: Anything they can fit in their mouths (Whether it be marine life or ships. Though, these two have a specific craving for human)
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Kalim Al-Asim [ Genie ]
- Extremely strong, every time he hugs you he completely forgets his strength. In the moments where he does realize it, he’s quick to apologize. If you tell him where you hurt, he’ll insist “kissing” it will make it better! It’s what worked on his siblings, so it must work for you! If you don’t tell him… he’ll cry, so it’s better to just tell him.
- Wishmaking. He insists on letting him give you a wish, after all, you did save him from being lonely! (You’re not sure if you could call it “saving” considering you were trying to kill him… and still are… ). You never accept his offer, with the knowledge that everything has a price, (Thank you Azul for such a good lesson learned) which makes him sad, but in your awkward ways of comfort, you tell him the only wish you want, is a hug. He is ecstatic and wraps his arms around you, tight. You’re regretting your wish now. Though, the glare from two pairs of slit eyes tells you you’re not the only one who doesn’t like the wish.
- Too many riches too count… You wake up, gifted in gold and jewels, you’re halfway through the day, more diamonds and rubies, going to sleep… Gold and emeralds. You told Kalim no more. He found a loophole and just replaced the cheaper items with more expensive ones. It’s technically not more so… You make a reminder to dump it all on Rollo, he’ll surely enjoy having money to tend to his garden. (He won’t. You already know he’ll refuse anything from a monster. But, if you bat your eyelashes enough he might accept it.)
“Kalim, I don’t need any more rubies.” You’re sat on his golden throne, the optimistic wish granter between your legs with his arms wrapped around your waist as he sits on the floor, a beaming smile making you hesitant on his next words.
“Then I’ll just give you more diamonds!” … Truly, you thought genies could only give out three wishes, why does it feel like this one wants to give you more than that… It’s gotten to the point where you think he wants only you to be the one he grants anything to, going so far as finding a way to bypass the rules. He even gave you his lamp, which you gave back to Jamil upon receiving it.
- You do wonder… Where are the rest of the people Kalims granted desires to? Even more so, the rest of the genies, as far as you’re concerned, Crowley said there was only one left (that he wanted to get his greedy hands on). If you had just searched Kalim and Jamils shared space, surely you would’ve found the corner filled with broken lamps in it.
Survival: Not sure, Either immortal or some secret to survival.
Jamil Viper [ Snake ]
- Warning: Capable of Magic.
- Half snake half man, his lithe body is enough to give you pause no matter how many times you see it, even after seeing the leeches who have a similar body. You think the reason might be more cause of his intimidating eyes rather than his actual body however, 2 sharp slits are enough to make anyone rethink their judgment.
- When he sleeps, he unknowingly wraps around you, his human half bunching you in his arms as if he isn’t squeezing your legs. You think it’s just his instincts using use as warmth considering he’s cold-blooded, so you let him (Little do you know he’s perfectly warm enough, his body is just drawn to you for some reason). When he wakes up, he considers poisoning himself from embarrassment.
- Venomus, the long pointed fangs could tell you that much. When he sheds a tooth after meeting you, he doesn’t toss it away like he used to, he finds a piece of string and slides it through the solid, letting you watch him in skepticism as he slithers towards you, gently placing the newly formed necklace in your palm as his forked tongue sticks out. (He also left a little venom trapped inside, in case anyone gets a little too close than wanted.)
- Don’t stare into his eyes to long, or else you’ll find yourself entranced by the slits in his pupils, and completely hypnotized without even his knowledge. It’s like he’s so enchanted by you that he forgets he can do something like that. When he realizes what he’s done, an hour goes by before you come to. You don’t feel any different, but one looks at your wrist adorned with a snake bracelet that wasn’t there before tells you something happened…
You can’t move it from its place, but you honestly don’t want to, it’s pretty. Works perfectly well in Jamil's favor, if you had, you definitely would’ve noticed the two holes punctured into your skin by a familiar set of fangs—
“Jamil, Kalim gave me his lamp again.”
“… Really?” He’s quick to take it off your hands. If only he could wish instead… it would make his life so much easier.
- Survival: Undocumented
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Vil Schoenheit [ Incubus ]
- Warning: Capable of Magic.
- You’re human. You’re not immune to charm and flirtation. It’s disappointing that Vil is so good at what he does. You haven’t given into temptation, at least, not yet.
- Shapeshifting, he’s told you before if you have someone in mind you’d ever want to do such things with, he can transform into them if you hope to practice your confession, when you tell him nobody comes to mind, you fail to notice the devious smile that perches on his lips in victory. It seems the only face that will appear in your brain in such moments of vulnerability will be his, and that’s enough for him.
“Though, Since I used to see Neige almost every day maybe his? He has seen me in moments even Rollo hasn’t…”
What?
- Feasting on the vitality of humans is something commonly known for incubi, you’ve asked Vil before if you’re going to die soon from him touching you… You already know he’s an amazing actor so when he answers you, you can’t tell if he’s lying or if it’s the truth, especially when he takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips like a prince, perfectly playing off the suspicion in his answer.
- You think it’s unfair he’s so attractive, if he had only half his looks it would at least be easier to not stare at his pretty features— what are you thinking…?! You can already hear the scolding of everyone else telling you how heinous it is to think such thoughts, but once again, you're distracted by the feeling of Vil dipping into the couch next to you, offering a drink as if you two were just ordinary people. To be fair, his whole survival depends on how well he can interact with humans… He only smiles when you take the drink.
- Making Hallucinations is just common practice for Vil, Rook praising him for all the people who gave into his temptations from his feats. You were once sure he had never used it on you, you could never fall for such a puny delusion, but now, your confidence has faded. Things in your memory are blurry, unclear.
Has… Vil has been using it on you…?
- Survival: Corruption of humans through desire, feeding off vitality
Rook Hunt [ Boogeyman ]
- You make an extreme effort to avoid all manners of shadows since you’ve met him. Lurking in the dark is his forte, and it doesn't bode well for you because almost all your work is done in the dark. Even then… your efforts are in vain because you still feel the sensation of eyes burning into you at all times of the day. In these cases, you retreat to Vil in hopes he can rein him in a bit.
- Shapeshifting is a rare and dangerous ability. Unfortunately, Rook of all monsters has it. Even in places with no signs of shadows, it feels like he’s still there. It doesn’t make it any better that he hints towards that being the truth.
“Ah trickster, you looked magnifique in that bathing suit!”
“You were the waiter who kept offering me drinks weren’t you.”
“The way I observe my muse shall not be disclosed!”
- Watching Rook feast on fear isn’t scary, but rather… unsettling…? He places his mouth near his victim as what you can only assume to be their fear twists up into his throat, the horrified human trembling in terror. Such a scary expression quickly disappears when he turns to you with the happiest smile and gushes to the poor human about how wonderful you are, rubbing his cheek to yours like a sappy couple.
“Ah! Trickster…! You are quite sweaty! Shall I dry you off—” you shut him up by throwing the same towel he was about to clean you up with, in his face.
- His skill set is already horrifying, but adding in the basic ability of enhanced strength just makes it worse. You can’t even begin to count how many walls Rook has torn through for you… A simple ow, and what you originally thought to be a brick wall, is now a giant hole with the boogeyman at your call. It’s harder to be nice to him when he’s insistent that you train your capabilities on him. The amount of times Rook has turned a stab into a firm held waltz is just too many.
“Non non, You must hide your hand better trickster.”
“I would do that if you weren't cradling me into a dip right now Rook— Stop dancing with me already!”
- Survival: Fear and Grief
Epel Felimer [ Newbie Vampire ]
- He's asked you before if he could suck you dry. He honestly expected you to say no, but when you reached your arm out and told him to just not turn you, he was sure you must be some sort of blessing in disguise. When he’s done, he begs you not to tell Vil, as the incubus banned him from feeding. You’ll come to regret it at some point though, as now he continuously comes back to you in times of hunger.
- He runs at such fast speeds, it’s incredible to you, you’ve clapped for him a couple times, but, every-time you did… he got distracted and would trip. He wishes the sun would come up and kill him in those moments.
- Compulsion is a dangerous thing, you shouldn’t be shocked, but luckily for you, he… doesn’t seem to know how to use it the way it should be utilized. The moment he does finally master such an ability, you’ll have to find someway to get past that. He did try using it on you once, a simple command asking you to tell him how “manly” he is, somehow, someway, the command turned into something much more… embarrassing. He stands in bewilderment at the way your hands are cupping your face, endlessly praising Epel about how amazing he is, and how you wish to stay with him forever.
Vil and Rook stepped in to save you. He was sat in the corner as a punishment.
- His hunger is, insatiable. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen such a monster so bloodthirsty. It’s like he has some goal to just, feast on as many people as he can… He mistook you as a stranger he could freely feast on, jumping on you, ready to sink his fangs into your neck. He’s only narrowly stopped when the moon shines on your face and he knows it’s you. If it wasn’t, whoever took your place would not doubt be dead.
- Survival: Blood
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Idia Shroud [ Reaper ]
- Warning: Capable of Magic.
- With how moody Idia is, you forget what his occupation is until he shows up at your door with the scythe he uses to escort the dead.
- Reapers aren’t necessarily evil or good, which is why you’re always conflicted about how to feel about Idia. Should you… Make your decisions based off his personality rather than what he is to slay him—? Why is he whispering about how all the other monsters should drop dead— Ah, he thinks they’re cooler than him.
- You essentially work as a discounted vent session as Idia talks about how everyone else is so much worthier than him to be slain by hunters. They all have cool abilities and cool looks, what is he stuck with? An edgy cloak and a tool farmers use to cut hay—
- His rant is cut short at the sound of a cheap board game slamming on the table, his eyes looking up to you placing a game piece on the spot, signaling him to take his turn as you tell him how he’s “the only one you find playing games with fun”. Truly, you must be one of the kindest souls he’s had the fortune of meeting, he should know, half of the spirits he escorts are huge douches.
- It just makes him all the more worried about bringing you to the after life.
- Even though Idia doesn’t have a reason to actively hurt humans, it’s still worrying when he describes to you in detail of his After life Capabilities. He once told you a story about how a guy was acting so high and mighty he trapped him in the space between life and death, only coming back to laugh at him when the man was practically broken. He only stops his retelling when he looks up and sees the most hurt expression on your face.
- After that, he sits up before you can even say anything, leaving immediately as he buries his head in his hands. The next day, he’s at your door as you silently stare at him, his form of retribution for your hurt being whatever you mentioned wanting during the week. You accept his gift, but that still doesn’t stop the fear of what Idia does to the souls he guides with a lack of fondness.
- Survival: Unable to Die. (Speculation)
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Malleus Draconia [Dragon Gargoyle… And… something else?]
- Warning: Capable of Magic.
- Heavy durability, as he is pure stone. in times of desperation, you watch as green sparkles fly around the man as stone turns soft. His spell doesn’t last long but in his desire he chooses to pepper you in kisses with smooth lips. The first time he attempted to romantically place a peck on your arm, you cringed at the feeling of rough stone on your skin. It hurt his feelings so he opted to just spell himself instead.
- Heavy. He didn’t wanna move away from a doorway you had to exit through to leave. You tried lifting him out of the way, you don’t think you’ve ever tried so hard to move something before. He thought it was an attempt at a hug, so you ended up being smooshed in his arms for an hour before Lilia saved you.
- Camaflouge, the stone he’s made of, and moss that grows on his body can be manipulated in any way he wishes, even his size, it’s scary watching him go from his regular 6 feet to an astonishing 10. This trait of his has served numerous moments where you’re surveying his castle only to feel arms pulling you back into a stone exterior. Your reflexes are swift to throw a punch, only to have the cruel reminder of rock busting your hand.
“Ah forgive me, I did not mean to hurt you Child of hunters”
“My hand is broken Malleus.”
“We can just get you a new hand can we not?” That night serves as the first of having to tell Malleus he can’t always spell you when you’re injured. To this, he tells you that’s nonsense and he’ll expend all his reserves for you.
- Considering he’s also a Dragon, flight, and fire breathing really shouldn’t surprise you. What does surprise you is when he looked more dragon than gargoyle sometimes, his eyes becoming more lively, scales being more obvious, and his wings and horn being truer than they’ve ever been. You have a sneaking suspicion his instincts change forms too, his already heavy clinginess increasing tenfold. You’re either held by his clawed fingers or wrapped in his wing.
- Despite Malleus being marked as one of the most dangerous kills possible, you find it extremely easy to… ask him to do something. In fits of anger, he’ll cling impossibly close to you, trying desperately to attempt to cease the ugly feeling festering inside him. He’ll tell you he never wants you to leave his side. If you’re not feeling like being trapped inside, all you need to do is wrap your arms around his neck and lean into his ear with a low whisper, asking him to let you go. For a moment, his grip will tighten, but slowly he relents, his stone eyes watching you wave goodbye.
- Though, truthfully, You don’t feel like you’re free… Sometimes, you notice gargoyles in places where there shouldn’t be any. Sooner or later, his resolve might break, asking him for such freedoms might not be as easy.
- Not only that but… There’s definitely a side to him that isn’t just some Dragon Gargoyle. Whenever you have the chance to dig deeper into it, you’re met with a wall that separates you from the truth. Just what is Malleus?
- Survival: ???, Unable to Die. Do not attempt.
Lilia Vanrouge [ ??? ]
- Caution: Possibly capable of Magic.
- Certainly the most mysterious of the bunch… To be fair, everyone in the Diasmonia space is filled with anonymity. He doesn’t have any specific qualities that warrant a decisive conclusion, but you’re confident that he’s not a human. Sometimes he has wings, sometimes fangs, sometimes spider legs, just what is he?! (He has used this capability to scare you on numerous occasions, taking the form of a giant wasp and chasing you once. When he gets bored though, he clings onto you endlessly, not as bad as Malleus but still very often. You woke up to him in your bed once, and now he occasionally appears there to “wake you up” by sliding his arms around your waist. Please tell him you’ll only let him do this if he stops turning into freaky stuff…)
- You have no doubt he’s one of the monsters that eat humans. You took a sniff of his red juice once, it’s definitely blood, and considering why you’re here, it’s for sure not animal blood. Out of guilt for failing whatever human is his current meal, you offered up yourself as a blood bag, and he happily indulged, pining you to the table and nipping that delicious spot on your neck. Out of courtesy for everyone else in the castle... You lock the door.
But it doesn’t matter, you’re quite sure he didn’t honor the agreement anyway, as he’s happily feasting on a mystery meat you know isn’t any creature near this castle.
- He always keeps you on your toes, one of the moments being when he used his flight to carry you all over the sky, laughing at you and your body clinging onto him in fear of dropping to your death. It makes it worse that he doesn’t do it slow, he flies so fast you can hear the wind slicing through the air, your arms only wrapping around his neck trying to get even closer than you already are.
“Lilia…! Lilia! Put us down—! I’m gonna die…!” you can feel his hand pat your head as he tightens his grip on your body.
“Aww…don’t worry, as long as I’m here you won’t fall!” you believe him, but that doesn’t make you feel any safer at all…
- Despite how decrepit the Diasmonia castle is, there are still photos of its rein on the wall. In an attempt to know your targets better, you look at some of them, immediately recognizing Lilia in one of the frames… But, his aura seemed different, more cold, more cruel… He was bloodied, and you’re sure that body he’s holding is what you think it is, but, he doesn't have that usual crazy happy look he has when he catches his next meal.
-Just how did Lilia end up like this?
- Survival: Undocumented
Sebek Zigvolt [ Swamp Monster ]
- He says you’re pathetic. (He continues to leave flowers specific from his swamp at your door) You’re not… You’re not very sure what he thinks of you…? He says you’re a coward, yet continues to gift you plants after you offhandedly mentioned how you think they’re pretty. So… What does that mean…?
- Maybe they’re poisonous… Heh… Maybe you can use them on Crowley—
- Your plan of attack is interrupted as a booming voice bursts your ear drums, the source of distress being the green being covered in moss, water, and vines. You follow the trail of plants leading from the swamp to the creature behind you, a bear, wrapped in controlled swamp foliage by the monster of the water. Sebek huffs and chastises you for such carelessness, but the feeling of you scooping his hands into yours and thanking him with a smile makes the words on his tongue go numb. Not for too long though, as he tells you obviously a beast like him can handle such lowly creatures, no wonder you didn’t notice.
- Before you came along, according to Silver, the water he resides in used to be a mess, as he said “Lilia believes it to fit my role of Swamp Monster, so I shall keep it!” so he kept it the way it is and let it out control. But, apparently, after you, it subtly became neater, flowers adorning the ridges of where once was messed moss, his water adorned with petals of your favorite color, the place even smelling like your favorite scent. He tells you it’s just a change of scenery for Malleus, not anyone else, you only smile at him, not replying. Malleus doesn’t have the same favorite scent.
- Like his fondness for nature, his power of water is equally as tantalizing to watch. He didn’t know you were there, but you were watching him train, your eyes becoming more entranced in his movements when you saw him become sidetracked from his patience for a moment. A book was laid in front of him, one that he delved deeper and deeper into with interest. It seems he has a fondness for literature, so after that, you would leave books you had at his residence, watching with amusement at how fascinated he was. Unfortunately, you walked up to him once when he was meant to be training, and in attempt to hide his hobby, he flicked his hands and let the water swallow every page in aqua.
“I have been training this whole time human…!”
“Ah, I got you all those. Now they’re wet…” He acts like he doesn’t care, but he secretly feels bad, so discreetly, he attempts to piece every page lost in the water together before presenting you with a new book.
- Survival: Swamp
Silver [ ??? ]
- Honestly, his abilities are lighthearted when not used to a heavy extent. He can eat dreams of those who sleep, typically, nightmares. There have been rumors spreading of a night creature who creeps into rooms, sucking the ambitions and hopes of its victims… They’re not wrong, if he’s called upon too often he’ll strip the person of all their wants and, dreams. Go a step further, and he might as well suck the life out of a human.
- But… You know he doesn’t mean to… At least you hope not.
- Sometimes your judgment feels misplaced when you watch him go overboard in his hunger, his trance only capable of being broken when you grab him by the shoulder, maybe even point a blade at him in desperation.
- He can travel into dreams. You’ve caught him lurking in your conscious one too many times to count. It’s not like he’s devouring your fantasy, but you can’t help and wonder why he’s almost always there. He doesn’t change what’s happening in it, he doesn’t destroy it so… Why is he there so often?
- it’s ironic, a creature who lives off the manifestation of people’s conscious, sleeps so much. You remember sorting through flowers Sebek had “gifted” you, (You’re not sure if it counts as gifted considering he threw them at you saying “they’re frail, just like a weak human.”) and Silver had sat right next to you, begining a sentence before dropping his head into your lap, a deep slumber commencing on your thighs.
- He wakes up ready to apologize, but the feeling of your hands gently playing with his hair, is enough for him to fall back asleep immediately.
- He’s a lot more welcoming to stay with compared to the rest of the monstrous residents of Diasmonia. If you’re free from Malleus and Lilias's grasp, you’re quick to run over to him. He’s typically sleeping, so, when he’s nodding off you sit down next to him, slowly placing your head on his shoulder as you fall asleep. If you’re to be trapped here for a bit, it wouldn't hurt to have some form of comfort in this run-down place.
As you fall into slumber, you secretly wish to meet Silver in a dream again.
It’s coincidental that he wakes up the moment you place your head on him, it’s a pretty sight to him. He hopes… you’ll stay here, he enjoys your company too much. As soft snores leave you, his hands move on their own, grasping onto your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours.
It’s selfish, he was raised to do what he must to survive as a monster by his father. So he knows, what he feels is natural, but there’s a lingering thought he shouldn’t feel this heavy about a human… He doesn’t wanna let you go.
- Survival: Dream Feasting
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Neige Leblanche [ Angel ]
- It’s… a bit unnerving how kind he is… You understand he’s a supposed Guardian Angel specially dedicated to your well but goodness, he was not very good at his job.
- He essentially watches you go about your day, occasionally blessing you to see your eyes light up with happiness.
- Despite how much he grooms the feathers on his back, he never lets you get too close to them, folding them back up when you’re near enough to see them more intricately or graze your fingers on them. It never bothered you, truly, he’s so nice to to you you could never be suspicious of him.
- He had to attend to personal matters once when you were eating together, his wings fluttering before he ascended. A pair of feathers had fallen in place of where he once was, One plumage was as white as snow, and the other…
- Was as dark as ebony.
- Survival: Being Good
Rollo Flamme [ Human ]
- He’s always been by your side.
- He would never be one of those wretched filthy beasts. He’s always cared for you when you couldn’t care for yourself.
- Don’t look at him like that. Why… Why is there scorn in your eyes…? He’d never hurt you, never.
- You’re the only sanctuary of purity in his life, he wants to embrace you. He always has, your happiness has always been his.
- He has always wanted to save you from the hellish life mother nature had dealt you.
So please…
- Let him hug the one thing he cares for one more time. And…
Forget the white lie he gave you.
- Survival: You
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The day is today. The date you left Rollo without saying even the slightest hint of a farewell. It has been 364 days, without you.
It’s a sorrowing sight for coworkers of his who know how close you are. But, if they had just looked closer, the looming feeling of festering jealousy would no doubt impede their senses.
Rollo knows he can feel it. He will find a way to drag whatever wretched beasts are ruining you with their filth, down to hell.
“Ah! Mr.Flamme, Hello Hello—!” ringed fingers slam mercilessly into the wood of a desk, any harder and he might’ve broken it. “Be careful…! This desk is expensive…!”
“It’s been a year since [Name] left for these jobs… Why aren’t they back?” Rollos on the verge of bursting a vein, the only composure he has left is strung together by the thin thread of hope he has of you coming back, coming back to him.
“Well, My little Birdie is—”
“There is no My, and there is no Birdie, don’t call them that.”
“Possesive much…”
“It’s not posseviness.” Crowley only nods at him, obviously, he doesn’t believe the man, but he’ll pretend if it means moving this conversation along.
“I will answer your question in due time, now would you please… remind yourself why it is you’re here in the first place?”
———
A/n Did I do a shit ton of research about monsters and their abilities for this, a post that was meant to be a shitpost? No, who would do that? (I would). Anyways, I hope this can satisfy Monster!Twst enjoyers while I work on the heartslaybul chapter, I promise I’m working on it to make it the best possible! (Blame the economy for my lack of activity on it)
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dyaz-stories · 9 months
Text
in a world of boys, he's a gentleman || Park Chan-Young x f!Reader
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summary: Yeong-Su breaks a window at the stadium, and Chan-Young takes the blame for it, resulting in severe consequences. Fortunately, you're here to pick up the pieces afterwards.
word count: 3.1k
warnings & tags: spoilers for season 2 of sweet home, violence, injuries, soldiers being assholes, coarse language, making out, the pronoun "she" is used in reference to the reader
A/N: couldn't find gifs for chan-young so I made this one, but I'm by no means a gif maker, so, yeah. Also, I don't know anything about baseball, so please pretend this makes sense if you know better. I'm not sure which team Chan-Young was supposed to be on, so I picked the Doosan Bears because Sweet Home takes place in Seoul. Finally, it's my first time writing for him, so I hope you'll enjoy my take on this character!
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It’s another day at the stadium, which means it’s another day of boredom.
Oh, there are things to do around here, sure. If you don’t mind being ordered around by soldiers who stand behind you with a scowl on their face and remind you that the only reason you’re even there is because of their good will, you’ll find a job to do. Cleaning a corner of the stadium, probably, in hopes that someone will be able to live there — as if there were enough mattresses — or doing the inventory, again, while looking the other way when rations mysteriously go missing and everyone knows who’s doing the taking.
Thing is, you’ve never been one to grovel. In fact, back in the Before days, you were the one giving the orders. Youngest assistant coach for the Doosan bears, the Seoul baseball team, you were in line to become the youngest coach in the history of the country. And, yeah, you weren’t completely in charge, but you were trusted. You had responsibilities. People knew to take you seriously.
You’ve had ideas for how to run this place more efficiently, to avoid making the civilians feel like they’re second-rate citizens, but it’s been made clear to you that you weren’t welcome to make suggestions. So you haven’t bothered, lately, but you also won’t play in that stupid game, where people get to change the rules without telling you.
It means that you do a lot of aimless walking around in the stadium. Chief Ji implicitly lets you roam around, a testament to the fact that you knew each other well back in the days, when you used to bring her coffee before big games, but you mostly try to make yourself useful in the way soldiers haven’t bothered accounting for.
A lot of that means keeping an eye on kids that are left to themselves otherwise. Their parents are busy, and it’s not like there’s much to do for them, here, so you try to keep them entertained. Unfortunately, you’re no teacher, meaning that it’s a lot of physical activities, wherever you find enough place. Other days, people who are teachers take over for you. That is the case today, meaning you’d have the day ‘off’, if it weren’t for Yeong-Su not showing up for class.
You don’t personally think he should have to attend class. You know how mean the other kids can be to him, and though the teachers don’t do much in the name of keeping the peace, you don’t let that fly when you’re in charge. Which is probably why the kid never misses your classes, a small pride that you keep well tucked in your heart.
Still, the teachers insist that you make sure he’s okay, so you agree to go try and find him. He knows the stadium well, meaning it will be no easy task.
You end up finding him throwing a ball against a wall. It looks like he’s practicing his aim, you think when you notice that he’s drawn a square on it. You’re about to approach him, maybe give him a few pointers, when a particularly hard throw has the ball bouncing too high and it crashes through a window, finishing outside of the stadium.
You freeze. Monsters don’t approach the stadium much — it’s been months since there’s been a case of that happening.
But the mere thought of there being something open here still has your heart pounding with fear. It’s only a few seconds before you compose yourself, but that’s long enough for someone to come running. You rush towards Yeong-Su, prepared to fiercely defend him if you need to.
It’s Chan-Young, and you relax, even if your heart is now pounding for a whole other reason.
“What happened here?” he asks.
He may have been running with his whole equipment, but he shows no sign of being out of breath.
“I’m sorry,” Yeong-Su mumbles. He’s hard to handle, especially these days, but he clearly respects Chan-Young a lot. “I didn’t mean to— I was just practicing and—"
Oh gosh, you realize, kid was practicing pitching, and it’s not lost on you that that’s the position Chan-Young mainly played as.
“…and now I’ve lost my ball,” Yeong-Su sniffs.
He’s trying to hold back tears, and it tears a little piece of your heart away. You know that Yeong-Su had found a ball autographed by Chan-Young, know that it’s one of his most prized possessions. It’s no surprise that Yeong-Su can’t stand the thought of losing anything more than what he already has.
Chan-Young glances at you, still standing a few steps behind Yeong-Su.
“He didn’t mean to,” you say. “I’ll help you fix the window.” Eun-Yu probably won’t mind giving you a hand, too.
Chan-Young nods, and you watch as he puts a knee to the floor, so he’s at eye-level with Yeong-Su. If he was any other soldier, you’d be more cautious, but you know him. Worked with him, when he was on your team, lost him when he enlisted, and now you’re in this strange limbo, where he doesn’t seem to know how to interact with you, even though there is this obvious familiarity between the two of you, every time you do speak.
“You need to be more careful,” he tells Yeong-Su, putting on his Serious voice. “If a monster heard that and came in, it could be very dangerous for everyone. And if you’re in front of the window when it happens, it would attack you first. So don’t let that happen again, okay?”
Then he gives Yeong-Su a small, comforting smile.
“If you want to practice again, come ask me next time, okay?” He glances up at you, and there’s such softness in his eyes when he does. “Or ask the coach. She knows her stuff.”
You’d never become coach, not officially, but his use of the word makes your heart swell.
“Okay,” Yeong-Su mumbles, staring down at his feet.
For a moment, it looks like everything will resolve itself just like that, and you’re already putting a hand on Yeong-Su’s shoulders to pull him away with you, when you hear the familiar stomping of military boots coming towards you.
Chan-Young’s expression changes immediately.
“Go,” he orders.
“But…”
He spins around to grab your shoulders, lowering himself to look straight into your eyes.
“Go,” he repeats. “Please.”
There’s such urgency in his voice that you can’t deny him, even if you’re not sure what is going on exactly. You grab Yeong-Su’s hand and pull him with you until you’re both behind a corner, just in time. You keep an eye on the scene, confused. The soldiers behave like assholes, you know that, but surely—
“What happened here?” the Sergeant bellows in Chan-Young’s face. “You’re lucky it was us, who were standing outside the window, and not something else! You better have an explanation, soldier.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Chan-Young says, shoulders straight, from what you can see. “I was just practicing and—”
Before you can wonder why he’d lie, the punch catches him in the stomach, and he doubles over in pain. You catch yourself before you can gasp out loud, and instinctively cover Yeong-Su’s mouth, which is probably a smart move, because he starts thrashing to run towards Chan-Young. You don’t blame him, but you also absolutely cannot let him do that, not right now.
“Yeong-Su,” you whisper, mimicking Chan-Young’s attitude with you just a minute ago. “You need to go back to Ms. Cha. Okay?”
“But they’re…”
You wince, because they’re still berating Chan-Young, and one of them has just given him a hard kick to the ribs. All the more reason for you to intervene.
“I’ll take care of it, I promise, but I can’t do that if you’re here. So go back to her, and I’ll come see you when everything is okay again, alright?”
He sniffs, rubs his eyes to hide the tears, then turns around and runs. At least he’s got a good survival instinct, you think, even if it hurts to remember where it comes from. The second you’re sure he’s not coming back, it’s your turn to run, but towards the soldiers this time, with a confidence that you now worry is wholly unwarranted.
“Hey, don’t you think that’s enough?” you interject, maneuvering so you can get between them and Chan-Young.
There’s a scoff and they roll their eyes. One of them puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes, but you barely take a step back. You’re used to men trying to intimidate you.
“I thought we’d made it clear that your opinions weren’t welcome,” Seo-Jin snaps at you, getting too close to your face for comfort — like that would make you budge.
“Doesn’t mean I’m going to let you beat up someone because he broke a fucking window, when if you’d gotten to work, that hole would be closed by now,” you reply on the same tone.
He opens his mouth to yell at you once more, a vein bulging on his forehead, when Chan-Young comes to stand in front of you. He’s barely just gotten on his feet, has one hand pressed against his rib cage, and still, he’s already coming to stop you from taking any risk. You want to scream at him and hug him all at the same time.
“Please, sir, she doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
Neither does he!
“That’s enough, Seo-Jin,” sergeant Kim finally intervenes, and the man immediately takes a step back. “Don’t let it happen again,” he tells Chan-Young. “And fix the hole,” he tells you, as an afterthought, before leaving and taking his team with him.
Your blood is boiling. He might try to be the voice of reason now, but you saw him doing nothing while his men got blood on their hands so he wouldn’t have to.
You don’t have time to think about it, though, because next to you, Chan-Young has slowly let himself slide to the floor.
“Are you okay?” you ask, panicked, while he grimaces and leans against the wall.
“I’m fine,” he says, an obvious lie. “You shouldn’t have said anything.”
“You took responsibility for something you had nothing to do with, but I’m the one who shouldn’t have said anything?”
He sighs, shakes his head.
“I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” he says. He looks at you with warm eyes, and you feel your breath catching in your throat.
There’s something about Chan-Young, there always has been. You always have to remind yourself that he’s nice to everyone, because he’s such a kind person. Even that didn’t stop you from falling for him — and it’s the second time that it happens, damn him.
“I’ll go get medical supplies,” you say, pushing yourself to your feet. “Stay here.”
“There’s no need to—”
“Please, do you want to die from an infection after surviving all these monsters? Stay. Here.”
You ignore any further protests as you rush to get the supplies.
It doesn’t take you long. Chief Ji provides you with what you need without questions, and apologizes for not being able to give you painkillers — they’re reserved for emergencies, she explains. You know the other supplies are, too, but you understand her reasoning, and just thank her with a quick nod and a promise to help out for the next few shifts outside the stadium, if she needs it.
When you come back, Chan-Young’s moved to sit on one of the boxes that are always laying around in here, and you grab another one to sit across from him.
“Open your jacket,” you say as you take the disinfectant.
“I— I don’t think that’s necessary—”
“C’mon, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you say with an eyeroll, because the guys on the team weren’t exactly shy about taking their shirt off in front of you and he should remember that.
He clears his throat and glances away, and you notice his ears turning red.
“Um, right. Yeah. Just a second.”
Under the jacket, he’s wearing a simple white t-shirt, and he lifts it up so you can see for yourself.
And it’s not looking good. The area is red and swollen already, and you worry it will be worse soon. Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do about that, so you disinfect the scratches caused by the boots, and gesture for him to put it back down. You’d normally advise to put something cold on it, to calm the swelling, but that’s not really an option here, not when the little electricity you have is mostly used to keep the lights on.
“Try not to move around too much, okay?”
“I’ll try my best,” he says with a brief laugh. It’s a silly recommendation, and you both know it, but you still felt the need to say something.
“Now give me your hand, I’ll see what I can do.”
He does, and you carefully turn it to check the palm. You’re not sure if he hurt himself when he fell earlier, or if it’s just that there’s constantly manual work to be done and it’s hard not to injure your hand. Either way, you start cleaning it and disinfecting it as well.
“Do you think they would have been as hard on a kid?” you ask.
“No!” he protests immediately, maybe a tad too strongly. “They’re humans. I’m sure they wouldn’t have—” He interrupts himself, and you suspect that he knows they still could have hit him, a thought that makes your stomach turn. “But… Yeong-Su’s had a hard enough life as it is. People here are not… kind to him.”
“I’m not blaming you, especially after that,” you sigh, “I just— You do realize that it’s not your responsibility, right? I’d have helped the kid, and it could have ended better than…”
You gesture vaguely at him, and he closes his eyes for a second. He closes his fingers over yours where you’re holding his hand, rubs his thumb over your skin, which sends a wave of heat through your body. It only lasts a moment, though, before he catches himself and lets go.
“I’m— I was in charge, when his sister— I was supposed to be helping them. And I failed him.”
“What?” Ms. Cha told you that story, in hushed whispers, to explain why Yeong-Su was such a complicated child these days. It had been clear that there was nothing Chan-Young could have done. “You can’t blame yourself for someone turning into a monster and going on a rampage.”
“It happened on my watch,” he insists. “If I’d been more careful— If I hadn’t left the bus—”
You stop yourself to look at him straight in the eye. He’s close, but you don’t feel uncomfortable, not with him.
“That could have happened to anyone. You couldn’t have planned for it.” He exhales, long and slow.
“Thank you for saying that,” he says, but you can tell that your words haven’t sunk in. It breaks your heart, and yet you have no idea what more you can say. After all, you weren’t there. It makes sense that he wouldn’t believe you.
“You still shouldn’t put yourself in the line of danger to—” to what, anyway? Expiate his sins? What does he have to prove? Does he have a death wish or something? “You shouldn’t put yourself in danger when you don’t have to.”
“Better me than Yeong-Su,” he insists. “He’s just a kid, and he has his mom — well, Ms. Cha. And he has you.” You set the disinfectant back down, hands almost trembling as you realize where he’s going with this. “Better me than him,” he just concludes sadly.
“Park Chan-Young,” you say, “you don’t seriously think that, right?”
He doesn’t meet your eyes when he replies.
“He has a family here. I— don’t really have anyone—”
You’re not sure what goes through your head when you put your hand on his cheek and kiss him. If you had to rationalize it — which you’re not really in any position to do when it happens — you’d say that you just wanted to prove him how wrong he was. Truth is, though, that you also couldn’t bear the idea that you were letting him believe that when it was so entirely untrue.
His lips are warm against yours, and you think you feel him leaning into you, but you pull away too soon to know.
“There,” you say as you gather your things. “Now you know you do have someone, so don’t put yourself in danger unnecessarily, alright?”
Then you’re on your feet, hell-bent on fleeing the scene.
Of course, Chan-Young catches up with you in an instant. He grabs your wrist, and pulls you back against him. His eyes are wide as he searches yours.
“Did you mean that?” he asks, his voice catching in his throat.
“Mean what?” Your heart is pounding in your chest. You’re… not sure where he is going with this.
“It wasn’t pity, right? You— I have you?”
The words almost send a shiver down your spine.
“Of course you do. I don’t exactly go around kissing people—”
Next thing you know, his hands are cupping your face and his mouth is on yours. He kisses you feverishly, like he desperately needs you to prove your words to him. You kiss back without hesitation, wrapping your arms around his neck. It isn’t long before your back hits the wall and you let out a brief groan.
“Sorry,” he says, pulling away from you to check on you. “Are you—”
You don’t let him finish, pulling him back down against you. His hands move down to your waist, one of them slipping under your t-shirt to feel your bare skin. He’s kissing you slower now, more sensual, and he abandons your mouth to kiss down your jaw, then your neck, before he comes back to your lips.
“I shouldn’t—” he mumbles against you. “I’m not supposed to—”
“Everyone’s doing it,” you reply, but it doesn’t surprise you when he tears himself away from you. He’s a sight to behold, flushed and out of breath — and is it odd that you enjoy seeing him panting from kissing you when you know he can run for hours without struggling? He’s always been one to stick to the rules closely. It says a lot that he broke one right now, but you won’t push him any further, not until he’s ready.
You take a step back towards him, take his hand in yours, and press your lips to his cheek for one last, soft kiss.
“Don’t forget now,” you say. “You have me. Don’t risk your life without thinking.”
He doesn’t kiss you again, but he leans in to press his forehead against yours, squeezing your hand in his.
“I have you,” he repeats, as if to convince himself. “I have you.”
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I hope you liked it! as always, if you did, consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought! feedback is really motivating and is what keep us authors going, so leaving a comment or sending an ask or anything really helps to keep me writing!
more writing for sweet home
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actiniumwrites · 1 year
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𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊
synopsis: you and neuvillette dance among the mechanical dancing robots, copellia and copellius, after a particularly stressful day
characters: neuvillette x gn!reader
wc: 1,066
warnings: fluff, a pinch of angst, reverse hurt/comfort, established relationships, some spoilers for neuvillette’s personality but no major spoilers for 4.0, this follows the theory that neuvillette is the dragon (i mean at this point, hyv is throwing it in our faces)
notes: i’ve had this idea since the trailer came out and i am very excited to be writing it! luckily neuvillette is kinda easy to write since he reminds me a lot of zhongli but in a better way? idk but i love him so so so so much. i actually had to cover my mouth while playing the quest because he made me smile so hard 💀
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Little drops of rain dusted away from the wind, falling gently across your skin as you stepped outside of the Opera Epiclese, arm hooked around Neuvillette’s. At the sound of rain, his eyes raised toward the sky before back to the ground, sighing in frustration. Work had been particularly tasking lately, what with the latest homicide case that Lady Furina just couldn’t seem to take seriously. He didn’t need bad weather on top of everything else.
Shaking him out of his thoughts, you pulled him gently along, “Wanna go for a walk?”
“You know I hate to deny you your wishes, but this weather is not suited for walking, my dear,” he gently replied, pulling you back under the overhang and away from where the rain was falling. Of course. Even though he was the one who was not okay, he was still putting you before his own needs.
Your eyes flickered between his, observing the tiredness in them. Dark blue and purple bags formed under his eyes, his hair ever so slightly disheveled. The twinge of red in them made your heart ache, realizing he had been crying again. Who knew how long it had been since he had properly been able to take a break and go outside, enjoy the scenery, or even just breathe.
Making up your mind in an instant, you reached for your umbrella, quickly snapping it open and holding it above you both. Neuvillette quickly grabbed it from you and gently peeled your hands off of it.
Always the gentleman, you think to yourself.
He followed in your footsteps blindly, letting you take the lead during this outing. There was one place you had in mind, one that always seemed to bring you peace. You only hoped it would bring him peace as well, even if it only amounted to a little bit.
“We’re here,” you turned to him, smiling with a glimmer of hope in your eyes. You gestured your hand to the robots in front of you, waltzing around in the rain entirely free from the world around them.
Neuvillette set his eyes on the mechanical couple dancing in front of him, unable to stray his gaze from them, almost as if they were hypnotizing him, “Copellia and Copellius? I was unaware you often came to observe them.”
“I find a certain tranquility in them,” you said quietly, nudging his shoulder with yours and leaning into him a little more, “there’s just something about the way they dance. It’s mesmerizing really, especially when it rains.”
“I cannot say I disagree,” he hummed.
You both paused in your movements as you watched the scene in front of you. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes, just letting the calm silence fall over you like the rain. There was a calming tune playing in the background, echoing from the phonograph broadcast towers by the Opera Epiclese. A classical tune you enjoyed, but one you never bothered to learn the name of.
Quietly, your hand reached up and took the umbrella from Neuvillette. His eyes met yours, alerted by the sudden touch of your hand against his. You gave him a small, but reassuring smile and placed the umbrella down on a nearby concrete ledge. Grabbing his gloved hand in yours, you eagerly pulled him toward where they danced.
“Are you sure?” He hurriedly asked, concerned for your health as the icy rain fell upon your skin, “I would hate for you to get sick.”
You hummed in reply, assuring him you would be okay. Neuvillette nodded back and held your hand a little tighter, pulling you into him so you could fall into step with the clockwork meka.
Back and forth, you both waltzed alongside them. One hand was raised in the air, intertwined with yours as the other pressed against your lower back, holding you close to him. Round and round, your footsteps fell in sync with his as you both danced along the robots. A few people had noticed, stopping by to stare in awe at the sight before carrying on with their days. It felt like hours had passed, but in truth, it had only been a mere ten minutes. When you were with one another, basking in each other’s presence, time just didn’t seem to exist.
And as the rain began falling particularly heavily, you felt your heart ache once more. Your head raised from the spot where it was just resting on his shoulder. Slowing your steps to a stop, you tenderly brush the ivory and blue strands of hair that covered his face off to the side, only to reveal a pool of tears gathering in your lover’s eyes.
Wordlessly, you swiped the ones that had escaped off of his face while a frown paints itself across your face. Placing your hands on either side of his face, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. He reciprocated the action, pulling you closer to him with the hand that laid on your back, allowing the tears to flow in the presence of your comfort.
“I had no idea you were so skilled at dancing,” he whispered as his lips departed from yours, simultaneously swiping the tears with his hands. You softly laughed to yourself, hooking your arm in his as you began to leave the area.
“Well,” you started as you walked up the steps, pulling him along, “it isn’t like we often dance together. Not seriously anyway.”
“Maybe we should do this more often? Only if you would like to, of course.”
You nodded in agreement, turning back to face him, “To be honest, I always thought you weren’t really into this kind of stuff.”
A few strands of hair that had fallen over his face again were wiped by his hands as he answered, “I do…if it’s with you.”
When you glanced at him again, he was smiling. It was the first one you had seen in a long time — or rather, the first genuine one in a long time. His hands peeled off the soaking wet gloves that once adorned his hands before moving to grab your hand once more. And as you set off for home, hand in hand, you noticed the rain had stopped. The once gloomy skies were filled with the setting sun and an array of blues, reds, and oranges. As Neuvillette found his happiness again, so had the sky.
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holyschnitzel · 2 months
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I AM SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY THAT I AM WRITING TO YOU AGAIN, BUT IT SEEMED TO ME THAT YOU DIDN'T NOTICE MY MESSAGE AND I DECIDED TO WRITE TO YOU WHILE YOU ARE ONLINE, I AM VERY SORRY, I AM ON MY KNEES😭😭😭 Greetings from Russia!👋👋 I ADORE YOU, YOU ARE GORGEOUS!!! I hope you're doing great and you're feeling good.💗💗❤️💕💞💕💕 AND I'M REALLY SORRY IF I'M BOTHERING YOU AAH😭 Questions about Damon (I love him💘) 1. How would he react if MC committed suicide? 2. What if MC carved the name of a Demon and hearts on their hand as a sign of love? 3. How would he react to MC who walk and talk in their sleep? (I had so many questions, but I got nervous and forgot them all...) you don't have to answer if the answers are spoilers. "Oh, and one more thing.........Damon, I want to touch your breasts....."👉👈 (I think I'm going crazy XD )
aww thank you so much for your kind words 🥰 but please, PLEASE DO NOT send me your questions several times, it's too much 😭
quick info: I want to let you know that I do read all of your messages, but I receive so many each day that it's really hard to keep up with all of them. when I answer 5 questions, I get 20 new ones. I never thought it would be this many, but here we are. other questions are spoiler territory or - and this is usually the case - I simply do not know the answer. my knowledge is mainly limited to the game. I know almost nothing about all the other characters in the universe because they aren't relevant to the game. so I hope you all understand that I'm not able to answer every ask I get. it's impossible at this point 🙏
now to your questions:
Well, this one should be obvious, shouldn't it? :) He would be absolutely devastated. He might even go so far as to follow MC to his death.
If it's a sign of love, he wouldn't mind it, he would adore it <3
He would listen, after all MC could say something of importance. If you were to sleepwalk, he would make sure that nothing bad happened to you, even at the expense of his own sleep.
thank you again, you are so sweet 💗 and greetings to Russia 🇷🇺👋
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arcanefox207 · 5 months
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The Wolf You Feed (Part 2)
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI
Word Count: 5.6k
Part 2 / ? (Ongoing Series) (AO3)
Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.
Warnings: No Outbreak, AU but with TLoU characters, Large age gap (Reader is 29. Joel is 50). Pet names but no use of Y/N. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. POV Switching. Series contains Angst and lots of Smut (to avoid chapter specific spoilers you can expect things such as but not limited to Unprotected PiV, Cream Pies, Oral, Masturbation, Dom!Joel, Subby reader, Pining, Infidelity) 
A/N: In case you are just jumping in, you can read Part 1 here. Part 2 is more smut heavy! I aim to have Part 3 out much sooner as time allows!
A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N S
Comments / Reblogs are so incredibly appreciated and give me the motivation to write 🧡
Without further ado... for your reading pleasure.
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It’s late on Saturday morning and you have a pot of coffee brewing while you shower. You stand in the stream of hot water far longer than you need to. Your thoughts shrouded by your evening with Joel Miller. How rough but passionate his touch was. How he made you get on your knees for him. How he tasted and how badly you wanted… needed  more of him. Your hands trace over tender spots where he held onto you and you relish the memory. 
He tested your obedience and you followed his orders. You hope it turned him on as much as it did you. You liked surrendering yourself to him. Despite his roughness you felt safe with him. You couldn’t explain it yet but you could feel that his burly facade was hiding something softer. 
You finally step out onto the cool tile and dry off in front of the mirror. You pat your hair down with your towel and when the steam starts to dissipate you catch how happy you look. An old you that you have not recognized for a long, long time. 
You smile to yourself and resolve to put Joel out of your mind for now or nothing would be getting done today. 
The coffee helps wake you up enough to plan out your morning. There is a light coating of fresh snow and the sky looks gray and ominous. A big storm is expected to hit overnight so you head into town to pick up some food and provisions. You make a quick stop at Grind when you see Marlene’s car parked in front.
There are a few customers and you are surprised to see Marlene working. By her expression, she wasn’t too pleased to be there.
“Hey!” You greet her as you approach the counter. “You got stuck working today?”
“Yeah, someone called out.” she rolled her eyes. “Don’t feel too bad for me, it’s your turn next.” she jokes. A teenager is busy checking out a customer and another is making a latte. Marlene steps away for a moment to chat with you.
“So…” she prods. “How did it go?” You fail to hide your smile and thoughts of Joel overtake you once again. 
“It went… great.” 
“When can I meet him?” 
You laugh nervously at her question.
“Lets not jump ahead. Right now it’s just something… casual.” 
She is skeptical of your reply and stares at you for a moment, trying to will more out of you, but you don’t give in. 
“Ok. Whatever you say.” She rolls her eyes again. “I have to get back to work, but you are going to have to tell me sooner or later.” She points at you and furrows her brow. 
“Yeah, Yeah.” You joke. “See you Monday!”
You leave the shop and cross the street to the grocery store. The place is mobbed and the shelves wiped out of the most in demand items. You grab a few things and chat with your mom who calls you to check in. Rather, to tell you all about her excursions and gossip about people you have never even met. You don’t mind and just tell her things are going well, you like your job and let her ramble on, not really listening. Mindless chatter in your ears while you shop. 
She does catch you off guard when she mentions hearing about the storm and “Joel will plow for us if we ask him to” casually. Your ears perk at the mention of his name but you act cool and collected. You don’t like the way she volunteers his services so nonchalantly. It strikes a nerve in you and reminds you of how she always insinuates you are incapable of being responsible. It makes you feel defensive for Joel, too. Her disregard for his time further illustrating how self centered she is. This was one of the factors that pushed you away for so many years. 
“Your father will call him later—” 
Absolutely not. You interrupt her sternly mid-sentence. 
“Mom. I will take care of it.” The last thing you want is your parents harassing Joel or trying to control you from across the country. This was a string you needed to make clear was not going to be attached to your current living arrangement.
“I have things under control.” 
“Oh… ok then.” Her tone is short and then she is off talking about her beach plans again. This goes on for another 10 minutes and by now you are in the checkout line. You say your goodbyes and calculate another week or two before you have to do that all over again. 
You hadn’t really considered the snow aftermath but you had a shovel and your car would be good enough to get out of your driveway… probably. You were not going to bother Joel regardless. 
The call puts you in a bad mood as you drive home. The spitting snow reminds you of the impending storm. The cheerful start of the day is gone and replaced with a heavy feeling.
You drive past Joel’s house and wonder if he is home and what he is doing. Wonder if you should call him. Wonder why he has not reached out to you either. You don’t want to be that girl. It’s not like you and him are anything. You shouldn’t be expecting anything from him. However, you still feel a faint sting of disappointment. Maybe he had his fun and that was it. Self doubt poisons your mind but you try to swallow it back. 
The rest of the day you spend eating junk food and watching movies on Netflix. You fall asleep on the couch early in the night before forcing yourself into bed. The wind and snow has ramped up and your power flickers. 
You pull your comforter tightly over you and take one last look at your phone but you already know there is nothing from Joel. 
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Saturday Night (Joel POV)
Joel sits up in his loft on his worn out couch, strumming his guitar. He takes a sip of his whiskey, neat, and poorly mouths the words to his song. 
He plays a few more riffs but feels distracted and unfocused. All attempts to keep busy have been ineffective today. He spent the afternoon preparing his truck and stacking firewood. Once that work was done he had nothing but free time.
The truth is, you have been on his mind. It was hard not to think about you. He had only explored the tip of the iceberg with you and wanted more. He knew it wasn’t right to pursue you for a magnitude of reasons, but the desire was not waning. He felt things with you that he had not felt in a long time. Feelings he was afraid to give in to.      
Joel replaces the guitar in his hands with his phone and hovers your name in the recent contacts.  This isn’t the first time today he has almost called you. 
What are you doing, stupid. He thinks to himself. 
He shuts down the moment of weakness and locks his phone. He knocks back the last of his whiskey and heads downstairs. He turns on his TV to the local news and listens to them fuss over the storm. He knew tomorrow would be a busy one for him with his side hustle as the plow guy many locals depended on. Just another thing to keep him busy. 
He goes to take a shower before calling it an early night.
The shower is hot and comforting and in no time his mind is wandering back to you. He thought about your brief evening together and how intriguing you were. How bold you were. How tight you were when he was fingering you and how needy you sounded.  
He puts a fist against the shower wall to brace himself and hangs his head low so his shoulders block the bulk of the water. He uses his free hand to wrap around his semi-hard cock. He remembers your playful hold on him and gently strokes himself. It doesn’t take very long to get hard as he relives that moment in his mind. His strokes get harder and faster and he wishes he was fucking into you and not his own hand.
He groans as he comes and watches his spend drip down the shower walls and into the drain. His few moments of bliss quickly fade away. He balls his fist in frustration at his unfulfilling release. He needs more. He needs you. 
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Your Sunday morning begins with anything but peace and calm. You are startled awake by the grinding sound of heavy metal dragging across pavement. You look outside your bedroom window and see the snow has blanketed everything and there are still a few lingering flurries dancing in the sky. The trees are struggling with bent over branches coated in ice and snow. 
Leaving your warm and cozy blanket fortress is the last thing you want to do. You lazily grab a hoodie to pull over your oversized shirt you slept in and your pajama shorts and make your way to the front of the house. The floor is cold on your feet but the air is warm. You cranked the thermostat before bed, making you feel rebellious in the moment but it seemed silly and wasteful now.
You look out the front window that faces the driveway. There you see Joel Miller in his truck, plow attached, barreling towards you and crashing into a snowbank he started building up. He looked so serious and professional backing up his truck with an arm stretched across his seat as he looked over his shoulder. He was so focused he was not aware you were watching him and his scowl at work. 
It doesn’t take long before that familiar ache between your legs returns. The longing to let Joel have his way with you. A desire that is getting harder and harder to ignore.
The realization that you look like you just woke up from bed hits and you scramble to the bathroom to run a comb through your hair and brush your teeth. You can hear the drag of the plow continue as you finish up and then rush to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. The stove clock reads 7:32am. Way too fucking early for a Sunday morning.
You hear his truck door slam and the sound of crunchy snow under his boots. He is walking with a heavy foot and grabs the shovel leaning by your door.
Joel is shoveling your walkway, weaving a modest path for you to get from your house to your driveway without trudging through the snow. You can hear him grunt as he tosses the heavy snow out of the way. What would have taken you probably an hour takes him just a few minutes. 
He plunges the shovel into a snowbank when he reaches the end of the path and leans on it to catch his breath. He looks exhausted and rightfully so. You want to comfort him in whatever way you can. At least offer him some respite to show your appreciation. As much as you hate to admit it, you would have been totally fucked if you had to tackle your driveway with your inadequate self. Joel saves the day, again.
You crack open the front door and call out to Joel, reluctantly interrupting his moment of peace. 
“Hey!” 
He slowly turns in your direction when he hears your voice. His eyes scrunch as he makes out your figure hanging out the door. He gives a lazy wave of acknowledgment. 
“Come inside and warm up? I made coffee.” 
He picks up the shovel to return it and makes his way towards you. 
“Yeah, ok. Just for a minute” He follows you inside.
Joel closes the door hard behind him and scuffs his boots on the mat to get off any snow. He brushes his hand quickly over the top of his head to knock off any lingering snow and unbuttons his jacket. He empties his pockets and puts his wallet and phone on the end table. He saunters over to you as you hand him a fresh cup of coffee, black. 
“Thanks.” He manages a smile. He returns to the living room and groans as he lowers himself to the couch. He recklessly sips his piping hot beverage and seems immune to the searing heat and delighted to have it.  He rests his mug on the table and leans back and closes his eyes. His hand comes up to his brow as he pinches his thumb and finger together across his eyes.   
You lean against the doorway between the rooms and sip your coffee. You notice how tired and worn he looks. His damp hair is shiny. His heat is melting the last few snowflakes and making him look messy and wet. His jacket is open and disheveled and his flannel undershirt is haphazardly draping on him as he slouches back. 
Despite all that he is still as handsome as ever and you like seeing him this way. Vulnerable in this out-of-character state. 
“Tired.” He grunts with his eyes closed and it snaps you out of your thoughts. “Been a long morning.” 
You take a few steps towards him to close the gap.
“I’m too old for this.” He sneers as he looks at you with lazy, heavy lids.
“You didn’t have to worry about me, you know…” Your voice trails off as you wonder if he was there on his own volition. You can’t help but ask. You need to know.
“Did… did my dad call you?” 
“No.” he answers firmly with a suspicion in his tone, almost sounding offended. 
“Good. I mean, thank you. That was really nice of you to come over.” You pause and smile at him. You feel guilty, but also have never had someone so capable looking out for you before.  
“I was going to shovel it.” 
He raises his brow at the ridiculous claim.
“No you weren’t. Wouldn’t have let you if I saw ya out there.”
“Well.. Thank you.” 
“S’nothing. I don’t mind… having an excuse to see ya.” His brows raise and wrinkle in the middle. He has a softened expression as he looks into your eyes. 
Your heart skips a beat and is heavy in your chest, you wonder if he can hear it beating. Having an excuse to see you. You replay it in your mind. He wants to see you. You feel stupid for getting carried away thinking otherwise.    
You put your coffee down next to his and casually walk around to the back of the couch. There is a force compelling you to comfort him. Encourage him to relax. That fluttering feeling in your stomach surges. Joel Miller is exhausted on your couch and isn’t going to be putting up much of a fight if you fuss over him and you want to fuss over him. 
You stand behind him and reach your arms down and spread them slowly from his shoulders down to his sides. He lets out a tiny moan as you circle his taut muscles. You pinch and massage them as you go. You lean forward and bring your mouth just behind his ear. 
“You don’t need an excuse to see me.” It comes out softly and seductive. You can feel his body tense under your words. 
You rake your hands back up to his shoulders and curl your fingers under his open jacket. He halfway cooperates as you tug the jacket off his shoulders and pull it away from him. It's wet and heavy and most of the snow has melted into it by now. You toss it on the back of the couch and return to his shoulders. Your hands massage him and you can feel his muscles tight and knotted under your grasp. His head tilts back into the couch as he lets you tenderly work him.
“Feels good. Really good.” He says in a low, almost inaudible tone. His exhaustion has let his body surrender to you and he isn’t fighting to be in control. 
You lean forward again and plant your mouth on his jawline with a sensual kiss. His damp whiskers prickle your cheek as you drag it against him and go to his ear.
“Let me take care of you.”
He makes a deep, throaty sound in response. 
His flannel is damp and hot and he looks so uncomfortable and stuffy now that he has been inside a while. You slide one of your hands down to his chest and unbutton his shirt. You are halfway down and he reaches his arm up and curls his fingers behind your neck, pulling you down to his mouth. You can feel the shift in the room, like you woke a sleeping bear. 
“Come here.” He uses his free hand to tap his lap and loosens his grip on you.
You walk around to the front of the couch and stand in front of Joel. His legs are spread and he is still lazily slouched back but he motions for you to join him. His half unbuttoned shirt teases you with his thermal undershirt peeking out, still hiding his bare skin. At least you are getting closer.   
You step towards him and move to straddle him on the couch. You have a leg on each side and he puts a hand on each hip under your baggy sweatshirt. 
His hold is tender but makes you melt when you feel the wingspan his fingers have on you. His thumbs brush over your hip bones and trace down to the soft skin just above the crease of your thigh as he casually dips them along your waistband. His touch sends sparks through your skin. 
He lazily stares you down with a narrow gaze over his nose, still resting his head back. 
“Keep going.” He closes his eyes as your focus goes back to finish unbuttoning his shirt.   
As you get close to his jeans you can feel him hardening and straining against the zipper.
You pop open the button and carefully unzip him. His cock springs loose in his boxer shorts. It teases you behind the cloth barrier and you reach for his waistband so you can grab a hold of him. His fingers dig into your sides and he pushes you back slightly to make you stop. He fights through the laziness and is now fully alert. 
“You want my cock?” He grits through his teeth.  “Think it’ll fit in your pretty pussy?” He drags one of his hands to your center and grabs you through the fabric. He smirks as he can feel you are wet and damp through your thin sleep shorts. His fingers sneak into the leg hole of your shorts and he teases your clit through your cotton underwear. You clench remembering the stretch from his thick fingers deep inside you just the other night.
“Yes–” your words catch in your throat as he pushes your underwear aside and thumbs over your folds. He barely touches you and opts to tease you instead, deliberately feathering over your swollen clit. You reach down to grab the wrist of his occupied hand and grind into his fingers. Your body craves the friction. 
“Fuck me, Joel.” 
His eyes darken and with a devilish smirk he takes his hand back and watches as you slide off him to take off your clothes. He looks at your body with a sleazy ferocity. If any other guy looked at you that way you would have slapped him, but not Joel Miller. You want his attention and you like the way it makes you feel when he is eyeing you like a starving wolf.
You pull off your hoodie and shirt and toss them to the piles of clothes building up on the floor. You stand in front of him completely naked. Exposed.  Joel brings out a side of you that makes you feel confident and bold. The way he looks at you with intrigue and desire encourages you. You take a brief moment to tease him back and drag your hands over your breasts and one continues down to your cunt. 
Joel stirs in his seat. He is so easy to rile up. He pulls off his flannel and kicks off his boots. His thermal long sleeve remains hugging his body in all the right places. He arches forward as his hand grabs his thermal from the back and pulls it off over his head. It makes a prickly, staticy sound as it brushes over his hair. He tosses it to the ground and for the first time you can fully take in his body without so many layers hiding him. 
His broad shoulders and chest taper down to a narrowed waist. His body is rugged and defined. For an older man his physique had been well maintained thanks to his lifestyle. His tanned skin and his messy, dark hair with silver streaks sends tingles through you. You have never been so physically drawn into someone before on a level that almost felt primal. 
His eyes sweep your body up and down as he drags his thumb along the side of his mouth and rakes his fingers through his scruff on his chin. He bites his lip while he drinks you in. 
“Damn, baby.”  He curls his thumbs inside the band of his jeans and tugs them down along with his boxers. He kicks them off his legs and reaches towards you, wrapping around the back of your thigh and beckons you to return to him. 
“Come ‘ere”
Your eyes gape as you take in his sheer size. It is intimidating but makes you ache with desire. 
You are back in his lap straddling him with little coercion needed. You stretch an arm behind you to hold yourself up and the other touches yourself. This position lets him take all of you in; bare, exposed and wanting. Wet and needy for him. 
His hand reaches for his throbbing cock. He palms himself with a few labored strokes. He is already beading precome at the tip. You feel a pang of jealousy and wish it was your body wrapped around him. He catches the hungry way you are looking at him. You catch how much he likes it. 
“You wanna ride this cock?” He brushes the tip against your opening and you let out a whimper in response and lurch forward. You brace yourself on his forearm and your other hand pushes against his chest to keep yourself upright. His skin is firm as you grip into him. His body hot and radiating like a furnace.    
“Haven’t gotten you off my mind since Friday.” He confesses. “Thinking about how tight my cock would fit in you.” He teases you with the tip again. Your whimper grows into a needy moan making him harder. Making him want you that much more. 
He crudely spits into his hand and rubs it along his shaft and then he notches it at your entrance. You can feel your body begging to be filled with him and you’ve been wet since you woke up to him in your driveway. You’ve lost count how many times you imagined Joel fucking you. He puts his hands back on your hips with a rough grip and you move your hands to his shoulders as you slowly lower yourself onto him. He helps keep you steady. 
“Joel! Fuck–” You moan. His thick cock sears your skin as it stretches you. He is slowly splitting you open inch by inch and you have never felt more full. He lets you control the pace for now, with pained restraint. He searches your eyes to make sure it isn’t too much. He knows he is a lot to take but the slowness is making him go insane. 
Joel lets out a grunt as he gets closer to bottoming out inside you. Your walls clench around him and the sweet pain from the stretch subsides as your body adjusts to his size. You slowly ride him up and down until you have him fully sheathed inside you. Your body is so full you don’t even have room to form complete thoughts. You can only focus on his burning hot heat inside you, tearing you open. Every moment before this pales in comparison.
“Fuck. So tight.” he snarls. His grip on you tightens as he pulls your body up and then thrusts into you, hard. He keeps the pace slow but more forceful than you were. He tries to be gentle but you can feel his patience slipping away.
One hand drags to his biceps where sweat is glistening. As he lifts you his muscles flex and contract he makes it seem so effortless to maneuver your smaller frame. Everything about Joel is big and strong and rigid. The epitome of masculinity.
Each thrust up into you makes you dizzy. You can feel yourself on the verge of orgasm, cock drunk and blissed-out. His heavy breathing and hitches in his voice send you over the edge as he pounds up into you. You ride the wave as he fucks you through it. Your arms entangle in each other and your bodies slap together, sweaty and panting. Your incoherent words and moans heighten with each thrust.
He makes you feel alive and pleasured in a way that you have never felt before. It is intoxicating. 
As you start to come down from the high you feel him getting close to his own release but he is still reserved and careful with you. Through gritted teeth he tries to keep his pace steady and builds you back up, never quite letting you recover.  
“Joel, Don’t… don’t hold back.” You manage to get out of your lips. You stare into him with hooded eyes and can only imagine how fucked out you look. He brings one of his hands up to the side of your face and strokes his thumb tenderly across your cheekbone.
“Ok, baby.” 
He leans into you and in a sweeping motion he twists and lays you back into the adjacent couch cushion. It is more of an oversized loveseat and not very ideal. He barely loses contact with your body as he positions himself above you. You can feel his weighty cock press into you and pin you in place as he leans forward, crowding you in the cramped confines of the couch.  
His mouth is on yours; rough and messy. He bites at your lip as he pulls away and reigns in his focus. Your legs clamp around his sides and your arms hold onto his neck. Your fingers snake into his hair and you grab hold of him. He slides his hands down your sides so he can hold you close as he resumes fucking into you. 
With this leverage, he somehow hits you deeper than before. His cock kisses the deepest parts of you again and again. Your sides bruise as he grips you harder. All his gentle inhibitions have been replaced with raw, unhinged furor. 
His pace quickens as you can feel him coming undone inside you. He is in a frenzy fucking you hard and deep and his grunts get louder. The heavy feel of him dragging out of you and shoving back with such force has you crying out his name along with a steady stream of expletives. 
You are so close but you beg your body to hold on, you don’t want the feeling to end. You want to live in this moment forever being trapped under Joel and being filled with his cock. You moan out his name as the second orgasm explodes through your body.  
“Fuck, baby..” his body quivers as he tries to hold out long enough for you to peak. 
He suddenly sits up and groans as he drags completely out of you. You whimper at the loss of him inside you and his wet, leaking cock slaps onto your belly. He strokes himself once with a heavy fist and grunts as hot ropes of cum spurt onto you. You relish being branded in his release. It coats your stomach and drips messily onto your cunt. You revel in the last fleeting moments of your orgasm being shared with Joel’s.   
He languidly strokes himself a few more times until he is empty. His chest rises and falls quickly as he breathes shallowly. His muscles weaken as the high from his climax rolls through him. 
He leans forward and presses his forehead to yours. The sticky mess spreads between your bellies as his body pushes into you. It's lewd and you love it. You love how filthy Joel makes you feel. All you can smell is sweat and sex and Joel.
He presses a kiss to your forehead and then sits back to catch his breath. Your bodies untangle and he goes back to his original spot on the couch. You stay laying back lazily with a leg draped casually over Joel and the other bent at the knee. You still need a moment for your legs to be in any condition to work properly. 
One of his hands rests on your thigh and he grazes it with comforting drags of his fingers. He doesn’t say anything but the gentle contact from him is welcome. The connection you share now is so contrasting to when he was railing you. It is a side of Joel that feels like a privilege granted to you.
The calm is interrupted by a vibration of his phone. Joel reluctantly picks it up to look at the screen and groans with disappointment. He answers it but doesn’t stop rubbing you gently while he conducts his business. 
“Fred, I’ll be there in 20.” 
You can’t make out the other end entirely but you can detect a man's voice. He doesn’t sound happy.
“Yeah, I’m running behind. Your house is next.” Joel tries to placate him. More chatter and you start to feel bad for holding him up. 
You move off of Joel and make your way towards the bathroom to wipe up the mess on your belly and grab your silky bathrobe off the door.  
“Ok, Fred. Be there soon.” You hear him hang up and toss his phone down with a grumble. He turns in your direction as he stands up to pull on his jeans. 
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I gotta’ go.” His tone is solemn now. You pop out of the bathroom and catch him using his undershirt to wipe up his mess. It’s gross but you like seeing him being comfortable being a typical, nasty man in your presence. Points for being resourceful.
“I heard. Didn’t mean to hold you up.” 
He glares at you and smirks as you make your way back to him. 
“Didn’t mind one bit.” He takes a few steps towards you to meet you halfway and kisses you on the top of your head while he wraps his arms around you. He breathes you in with his embrace and it feels so perfect being wrapped up by Joel. A final moment before it all ends and he pushes away from you, reluctantly. 
“And s’not a big deal. Snow aint going anywhere.” He says as he puts his flannel on, sans the thermal, and starts to button back up. 
His messy hair is mostly dry now and even more unruly with wild curls. You feel that fire inside you building again. It’s insatiable. You don’t want him to go. 
He laces up his boots and gathers his things. 
“Ok. I’m gonna hop in the shower.” 
“Ok, baby.” You exchange a final look and go your separate ways. You feel his eyes on you as you return to the bathroom. 
When you go back to the living room he is gone. All that remains is his dirty shirt and an empty coffee cup. 
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Sunday Night (Joel POV)
After a few more hours of plowing Joel returns home. 
He takes a shower just long enough to wash the sweat and stink of exhaust from his body.
He pours himself a whiskey and collapses on the couch to relax. 
His body is weary, but his mind is still firing. It has not stopped. He has to face the reality that he is falling for you, whether or not he should be. 
He pulls out his phone and stares at it blankly. Hesitating. He scrolls through his contacts until he finds the one that he has been avoiding. He knocks back his drink and sends the text.
Joel: Tess. We need to talk.
Onward to Part 3!
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Thank you to @magpiepills for beta-ing 🧡
Love to my ladies that mean everything @magpiepills @legendary-pink-dot @youandmeand5bucks @exquisiteserotonin @for-a-longlongtime @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @redhotkitchen 🧡
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cenorii · 5 months
Text
Wesker: personality
This is my psychological analysis of the character, which includes important details of the story, an analysis of the decisions they made and the concept of the phenomenon of «Guiding Fear». Contains spoilers!
Even if you know lore 100%, you will be able to learn something new from my thoughts
I did this to practice analyzing personalities and reliably prescribe my own characters.
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[These are all my personal reflections that I have been accumulating and analyzing for six months. You can see the same analysis with Chris here. In Wesker's case, I dispel the myths that he is evil-evil and crazy, it's not that trivial here... Thanks to everyone who reads this, I really appreciate it and it's nice to know that my thoughts are of interest to someone!]
The most difficult subject of all. An attempt to embrace the immensity. He is infantile and the desire to prove this quality forced me to write such a huge article.
Wesker embodies the fear of losing himself, the anxiety of being someone he is not. He knows nothing about himself from the beginning, neither his Spencer-prescribed destiny nor his real name. As he tries to resist and exercise his individuality, he is eventually confronted with the truth that his every move has been pre-planned, never answering the questions: where are his own decisions? Where is he himself? What is really his?
I chose this fear for Wesker for a reason. The fear of losing himself can cause a person to purposely distance himself from others and not allow anyone to get close to him. He strives to shield himself from everyone, and we can observe this in his desire to be alone. Outwardly, such a person may appear indifferent and cold, even indifferent, so as not to give away to others (and to himself) his true feelings and needs. Wesker believes that it is right not to show anyone that something matters to him, otherwise he will develop weaknesses. After all, what people hold dear can be manipulated. And he doesn't want anyone to have control over him. He hates being controlled, so his surroundings know the bare minimum of information about him.
Who's Spencer? One of the founders of Umbrella, to put it succinctly. A man who is obsessed with identical mansions and mysteries and immortality and creating «perfect humanity». Rich and powerful.
But let's get to Wesker's story. A lot of things happened to him in his 48 years of life.
First of all, I want to point out that at an early age he was taken from a family that Spencer believed had a unique combination of intelligence and genes. But he wasn't the only one who was treated this way as part of «project W» (the experiment to create the perfect human). There were hundreds of children who were later given the surname Wesker. Until their adulthood, they received the best education, living in a boarding school (presumably), and were selected to be the best.
The children, being a blank slate, absorbed Spencer's teaching, being brought up according to his ideals. Their lives were pre-scripted, every step of the way. Those who were unremarkable were weeded out. Competition, anxiety. The lack of a normal childhood could breed a fear of losing oneself in every Wesker, for life was controlled. Personal boundaries and choices were absent, Spencer's worldview was pounded into everyone's head. Children were also distorted with notions of right and wrong, forced to be emotionally detached from a non-ideal world. This upbringing has produced people who have no empathy for others, empty machines with no personality of their own, ready to perform perfectly in any job in which they find themselves successful. They see the world through Spencer's eyes, but not their own.
In the end the best were 13 people, where number 12 was Alex Wesker and number 13 was Albert, the one in question. Someone who really always wanted to see the world with his own eyes, wanted to transcend.
The 13 candidates, following Spencer's plan, had to mature before moving on to the final stage of project W - injecting themselves with a special prototype virus. The power that this virus can bestow is so great that an immature individual, according to Spencer, has no right to possess it. In theory, this virus should improve a person, make him perfect, but in fact it turned out to be very selective and killed 11 candidates out of 13. Only Alex and Albert survived. Alex didn't gain any strength, because at the time of the injection she was sick, and the virus cannot improve a weak organism. But her half-brother was lucky, and the virus endowed him with all possible positive properties, changing his body and turning him into an almost immortal creature, looking completely like a human. That is, outwardly, except for the color of his eyes, nothing had changed in him. At the time of the injection, they were both 38.
I don't believe in theory that he lost his «humanity» due to mutation. On the contrary, he was never «human» in the classical sense of the word. He, like the others, was raised not to show empathy for others and was indoctrinated to believe that he was superior. Wesker had not changed, but because of his newfound freedom, he was no longer constrained by the limits Spencer's upbringing had placed on him.
When Wesker was 18, he was sent to the «Umbrella Executive Training School» with his future friend William Birkin, who was 16. They were research associates. As one could guess, the stress didn't end with his childhood, it coexisted with it. Following the text from his report, Wesker continued to feel like a mere toy in the hands of Umbrella, and further in the hands of Spencer, he literally raved in every paragraph about the old man. And to get out of this state was impossible from his words.
He and Birkin were led to Lisa Trevor, a subject who had been physically and psychologically abused in this School for many years. The horrible picture that opened before them, gave Wesker confidence that he could be in her place if he did his job badly. But he had no idea that he'd always been there, that every stage of his life was Spencer's experiment, just not as ugly.
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Wesker wrote in his report: «We had two choices: succeed in our research... or lie here and rot like her. Thus we had only one option. This woman tied to a pipe touched something in our minds»
These thoughts are literally a revelation of his subconscious fear that has haunted him since childhood. A manifestation of humanity.
When Wesker entered this School, he felt freedom and saw the horrors of science for the first time. Perhaps a turning point in his life, for in order not to lose that little freedom, and his life, he had to do as he was told. Had to adjust and ignore the rationalism screaming inside. Working there greatly affected Birkin and Wesker, but Wesker had to transfer elsewhere to get more information about Spencer and also because of the realization that he had reached his research limit. When Birkin started studying the G-virus, Wesker realized that it was beyond his knowledge. Although he was good at science, he didn't want to do it all the time, he wasn't looking to improve his skills and knowledge, reaching for something else, as if trying everywhere, trying to find his place.
Close to the age of 38, Wesker gets a job in a special police unit as Captain of the S.T.A.R.S. Squad and a double agent. But he was already then pursuing a personal goal and found himself a triple agent. His goal was not simply to test bioweapons on members of his squad, as the assignment stated, but to escape with the results to another organization. The only way to break free from the influence of Umbrella, which is why he gave up his best people so easily.
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It's unclear why he planted supplies on Chris in a difficult moment and helped him in every way he could if the trial was supposed to go «natural». Perhaps he wanted Chris to 100% make it to the final trial, but Chris was doing fine without it. Maintained the image of the captain? Game rules? Anything is possible. I'll use the code word «WX» to note this behavior, because I'll come back to this topic a few more times. «WX» stands for Wesker's penchant for actions that do not conform to his basic behavior, including helping others that does not bring him any personal benefit or benefit. In other words, good without any reason.
At the mansion, Chris and Jill get rid of the bioweapons in their path and make their way to the lab, where they catch Wesker off guard. There are 12 endings in the game, but only the one where Wesker is stabbed in the stomach by the Tyrant is canonical, as that is the ending depicted in Umbrella Chronicles, where the story is told on his behalf.
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He survives by regenerating from a pre-injected prototype virus, but it's unclear if his death was part of the plan. His first report states that Wesker planned his temporary death from the Tyrant, but in subsequent retellings of this moment, I began to question how relevant this report was. His reaction and facial emotion shown in the re1 remake described surprise. But he couldn't be faking it at that moment, because he already had his back turned to Jill and Chris. Considering the way Wesker in Umbrella Chronicles describes his death, it seems like he really didn't expect this. Something didn't go according to plan. He didn't plan for this kind of trauma to activate the virus within him.
The point about the prototype virus is also worth mentioning. Birkin, on Spencer's orders, misled Wesker by telling him that this substance was developed specifically for him. That is, Wesker did not know the truth and details about having a huge probability of simply dying from the injection. Judging by the information in the notes, if Wesker had not injected it into himself, the virus would have entered his body in some other way, it was inevitable. The remaining 12 Weskers were injected with the virus, some by force, some at the request of a friend, and some under the guise of vaccination.
Let's take it a little further. Wesker was declared dead and moved on to another organization. Now his plan was to get rid of the sinking ship that is Umbrella. But why was he so intent on destroying it? It could have been a personal vendetta, after all, it was Umbrella that had manipulated his life and taken away his freedom. It was also a way to prove to his new organization that he was worth something.
By executing his plan, he inadvertently helped Chris and Jill, who were seeking the same thing. I'd call it «WX», but since he was pursuing a personal goal for his own benefit, it's 50\50.
Then in re4 he gives Ada the task finds the amber with the parasite Plaga. Considering that Wesker moves quietly around the island in the remake, it's odd that he didn't get that amber himself. With the power and speed from the virus, he took it all on the shoulders of one Ada, who was also infected during the mission, which only wasted his time. Didn't want to get his hands dirty? Maybe. But if he had gotten them dirty, the mission would have been completed faster, and isn't that a tactical advantage?
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In the remake, he manifests «WX» (DLC Separate Ways) when he shows up at just the right moment for Ada and saves her from the ganados. After likely killing them with a gun, he takes a passed out Ada to Mendez's bedside, where he gives her a temporary recovery shot (or draws her blood?) But you know what's even weirder? He purposely chose a comfortable place for Ada, rather than laying her down on the ground somewhere. He was also there with her the entire time she was lying unconscious. I'd put an exclamation point on that weirdness, because... why? First of all, why did he save her when he could have continued the mission in her place? Recall Code Veronica, there Wesker arrived on the island with his HCF squad, but then we find his soldiers infected. He showed no concern for them and actually continued the mission on his own. Second, why did he keep sitting there? To scold and pathos leave?
He envisioned the option of Ada's possible betrayal and later stole Krauser's body, from which he had already extracted the Plaga sample, but he saved her anyway. Why? All of Ada's subsequent tasks on the island he could also have accomplished on his own and much faster. It's not like he was very busy if he allowed himself to sit with a sleeping Ada. The next meeting with Ada takes place on the elevation. Wesker brings her a case, pointing a gun at her. What is this gesture for? I don't think he sees her as a threat. Maybe it's a way to lend weight to his words, but doesn't he consider his authority absolute? He's a much bigger threat than the gun in his hand, so it's an odd action that makes him seem insecure.
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After Ada's betrayal, one of Wesker's allies informs him that her helicopter can be attacked, but he refuses, calling it her "little act of defiance". Thus, he gives someone the Plaga sample she stole, and also spares Ada herself. It's «WX», though he could have gotten rid of two problems at once - the traitor and the competition.
We are now transported to the future, in the DLC for Re5 – «Lost in Nightmares». Here's where the fun begins.
DLC reveals to us that something has been bothering Wesker all his life, and that something is a subconscious manipulation that has been psychologically programmed into every Wesker. The so-called «Spencer's presence». It was a defense mechanism that constantly caused a sense of anxiety and a desire to seek out Spencer, to obey him. But this defense stopped working as soon as the old man met his prodigal son and told him everything. Wesker learned from him the whole truth about himself and about «project W», that his whole life had been manufactured. Then the defenses in his head were destroyed and he quietly killed Spencer, appropriating his dream for himself. He failed to deal with the realization of the truth, taking his dream of becoming God and creating a perfect humanity. An infantile fantasy of an unjust world that needed to be changed to fit his ideals.
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In that moment, he faced his fear head-on. There she was - the cause of his fears, the person who had gotten into the depths of his mind, into his innermost being. Spencer. And now this old man was lying bloody on the floor. Perhaps Wesker should have been relieved and finally started living the life he wanted, not this old man. But he had taken Spencer's dream for himself, thus, once again acting against his will. In doing so, he didn't walk away from the problem, but exacerbated it without even realizing it. Wesker must have guessed that he had some problems, but his inflated ego that prevented him from thinking about it, screaming that he couldn't have any flaws. The problem became a hole that he tries to fill with things like this.
Whereas other characters conquer their fears by facing them, Wesker drowned in them, unwilling to change anything. His entire personality was built on the horror of losing himself, and when he found out that he basically had no self all his life, he lost his mind. He decided, since this world was unfair to him, then he needed to completely rewrite it and turn it into his own utopia, in which he would be whoever he wanted, untouchable, whom no one would point out and control.
However, thanks to the re4r (DLC Separate Ways), we now know that similar thoughts haunted Wesker even before he met Spencer. His desire to change people and start a new era he expresses after the credits. With this, the writers patched a few plot holes that appeared after re5. Now Wesker sounds like he didn't assign Spencer's goals to himself, but even before meeting him, he decided on a vision based on his upbringing.
Unfortunately, there is a long known scripting problem re5, because Wesker was not planned as a character who will survive the events of this game, so his motivation sounds stereotypical and stupid, because his plan and should not have been realized. Must be in the remake they will fix this flaw, because the beginning has already been made. His moment of frustration after killing Spencer is interrupted by Chris and Jill coming up. Consumed by rage, Wesker is seriously trying to kill Chris this time, or he was playing with him again, knowing that he would not oppose him. After saving her partner from death, Jill pushes Wesker out the window, falling down onto the rocks with him. After falling off a cliff, Wesker obviously survives, but also saves Jill. Why not just leave her to die? Why treat her and then plan to make her a test subject? Aren't there other healthy people out there? Stupid and empty revenge is not in his character. This is just another manifestation of «WX» and his obsessive desire to cling to the past.
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I don't have much to say about re5, because Wesker died there, or we were made to think so. The only thing I will mention is his unhealthy attitude towards Chris. He displays it at every chance he gets. The notes about Wesker in Umbrella Chronicles state «As a spy he held the concurrent post of S.T.A.R.S. Captain and has been impressed by Chris' combat abilities since then», and during the events of Umbrella Chronicles, Wesker said the phrase «Chris, it appears our fates are forever intertwined». In the re1 remake and Code Veronica, he openly stated that Chris was «his best man» in a sort of unobtrusive admiration. It's no longer possible to perceive Redfield as separate from Wesker.
Each time he points a gun at him, Wesker never takes a shot on target. In the battle on the airplane, he points the gun at Chris without even putting his finger on the trigger. Such a good opportunity to kill him, to get rid of the enemy for good, and he just stands there holding a gun he's not even going to use. Just take the shot and it's over, but no, he's standing there babbling on as if it's actually that much more important to him. It's like Wesker was looking for an opportunity to vent to the very person from his past. It's reminiscent of the moment he pointed the gun at Ada. It's like he was trying to add weight to his words, to show the importance of what he was doing.
In Code Veronica, he decided to play with Chris instead of killing him. So many opportunities were missed, as if he couldn't physically hurt «his best man». Chris is Wesker's only drop of common sense. If he was sure of what he was doing, and also sure of himself, he wouldn't have left Chris any chance of survival. He would have killed Redfield at the first opportunity, but he stands there every time and doubts what he's doing. Chris is a kind of controlling element to him that constantly makes him hesitate.
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And this strange hatred for Chris also raises questions. Maybe he hates him because he was jealous of what he owned? Something that cannot be obtained with money. Support, understanding, the love of a sister and close people, trust. Wesker compulsively convinced himself that he was not made for such things, for even having a sister, they did not possess affection. From the beginning he had no friends and his only companion was Birkin, though their relationship could hardly be called a normal friendship. He had no family or loved ones, and the only support he received came from «patrons» who were actually agents of Spencer and Umbrella. Seeing the Redfields supporting each other in difficult moments, being heroic, Wesker truly realized that he would never do the same. He has no people he holds dear, nor does he have those who hold him dear. There are no irreplaceable people in his worldview, but this connection between Redfields is probably beyond his comprehension. It's a simple human problem, which is why he's so fixated on himself, because if he loses the only thing he has, he'll have nothing left. He's miserable and drowning in his own despair.
While interacting with Chris on the volcano, Wesker first reveals his idealistic, infantile nature, naively dreaming of a better world without war and disease. Losing control of his powers and realizing that he will not defeat Chris in such a state, he decides to overdose himself with Ouroboros, which in the end does not make him stronger at all, but only slows him down, making him drown not only in weakness, but also in his own uncontrollable anger and frustration. Events are moving too quickly and so it can be assumed that his words here are not addressed to Chris, but to himself. After all, in the last battle he claimed to be «saving the world» and now he wonders «is it worth saving?» He dies without knowing the answer.
«However, there is no point in power if it consumes itself» his phrase, well suited to the situation at hand.
Btw, in the original idea, the moment before he died, his eye color would become natural, showing despair and horror. An interesting idea that was discarded.
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I would also like to parse his phrases: «Only those with superior DNA will be chosen by Uroboros. Only those fit for survival will be allowed to carry their genes into a new age!» Also, «I don't need anyone else. I have Uroboros!»
Wesker is more aware of how the world works than anyone else. Corruption, betrayal, human vice and filth. He had to participate in it to achieve his goal, had to go through a lot of disgusting people for the sake of getting benefits, himself to sink to their level. Seeing this, he has become disillusioned with people, so he wishes they would disappear, giving way to someone more «worthy» of life. He also renounces everyone, entrusting his fate to his creation, desperate to gain understanding.
His life was cut short at the age of 48 (2009) in a volcano, but that's according to official reports. In theory Wesker and his possible clone are alive now, which we could learn from Umbrella Corps. But I'm not going to tell you about it here.
I failed to mention that at 32, Wesker had a relationship with a woman named Muller. Strangely, she was still alive afterward and had a good opinion of him. Although it would seem that with such a personality it should be the other way around.
She ended up pregnant, and now, as of 2021 in the re8 storyline, their son is 29 years old. I can understand why she might not have informed Wesker about the son, because first of all he might not have approved and made her get rid of him, and secondly she might have lost the ability to contact him, since he was working in secret. But the fact that she kept the baby speaks volumes. That the man she broke up with is genuinely pleasant to her. I mean, if he'd been the way he was at the time of his death, it's unlikely she would have kept the baby. Often victims of violence/abuse get rid of their children, no one wants a child from a tyrant. That's the side of this character that we don't know anything about.
It's hard to imagine how a person who has a fear of losing himself and who distances himself from others has managed to find a short-term relationship at all.
What about his personality? There's a double bottom here.
It's ambiguous. At first you see a stereotypical villain and then a psycho who wants to «save the world» by destroying it, a standard hackneyed scheme, nothing interesting.
But if you look closely, we see a simple man on the verge of despair. With his past behind him, he cannot give up everything and live the way he likes, because he is superfluous in this world. Because of his own fears, he has developed a belief that he has to strive for something in order not to lose himself. All Weskers have been raised to believe that they have a great destiny, which builds an unhealthy and extremely vulnerable self-esteem.
With his fear of losing his identity, Wesker isolates himself from others, creating psychological walls that even he is afraid to penetrate. This may be the reason he broke up with Ms. Muller. She risked getting into places where even his foot had not set foot, so it became necessary to distance himself from her in order to avoid unpredictable consequences.
His dream, adopted from Spencer, actually echoes his deeply buried problem. «Infect people with a virus that will only improve and not kill a select few like him» That is, Wesker dreamed of making people like himself. Isn't it loneliness and desperation that makes people do such things? It didn't seem that he was hungry for «power» specifically, because he already had it in the traditional sense. All the more, based on his words, he did not wish for evil with this gesture, he wished to «save» humanity, knowing that millions would die. For the sake of finding a company «worthy of him», he was willing to risk killing everyone and being alone. Desperate and lost, he began to make bad decisions.
You know, it's been unusually hard for me to see beyond the obvious. I feel like I did the wrong thing by taking it upon myself to judge him without knowing almost anything about him. I originally had a biased and negative opinion of the character. But now I've gone neutral.
What do I see in front of me now? A character disconnected from his own lore. We read about one thing and see something else entirely. And also an unhappy man. Wesker is famous for his reports. They were always interesting to read because of their informative and judicious tone, so it was much more interesting to watch him when he acted in accordance with his reasoning.
Judging from the story, he is able to evoke compassion and empathy in the viewer, but does he evoke it in action? In action, he evokes nothing. He is not even annoying, although a well-written character should evoke an emotional response, but he evokes it only with his story.
Creating something unambiguously negative is not a bad thing. But such a thing should be presented wisely, and it should have a certain kind of backstory, which will only deepen our belief that this object is evil.
But in Wesker's case, things went wrong from the start. Having created a story that resonates in you with an atmosphere of hopelessness, lack of choice, and fear of losing yourself, we see a character that doesn't match that. It's the events of the personal story that create the character, but if the character feels pulled from it, something went wrong in the writing.
If you are creating a character who is supposed to be compassion, the story should help with that, make you feel his problem. The same is true if you're writing someone who is negative and should be disgusting. Murder isn't enough to make a character a villain, the story is the main key. And our victim's story isn't about becoming evil at all, it's about fighting fear, where fear wins in the end, which doesn't fit with the concept of evil evil at all. That's why the player/reader/viewer can't always decide who he is: antagonist? Anti-villain? Who the hell is he?
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[The beginning of an optional fragment]
By the way, there aren't enough facts in this analysis, so now we're going to break down the prototype virus that was injected into 13 Weskers. If you're not interested in that, skip to the next section. I haven't previously mentioned the Progenitor, from which many viruses in this universe originated, so the prototype is an unstable strain of the Progenitor, weakened dozens of times so as not to be too toxic. This virus either gives a person immense strength or kills them altogether. Alex stayed somewhere in the middle, because nothing happened to her, but her brother changed a lot.
Wesker has special genes, as well as immunity, that made the prototype fused with him. But activation, according to Birkin's report, requires a stressful situation. That means the hormones released as a result of stress dramatically amplify the influence of the virus, helping the body to initiate the fusion. It's all about hormones, we'll come back to that.
When Wesker received an injury incompatible with life from Tyrant, the hormones produced at that moment triggered the V-ACT process. He went into anabiosis, transforming all the cellular tissue in his body as well as repairing the damage he had sustained.
But having gained strength through a complete reorganization of his body, he was not yet aware of the instability of the virus inside. He didn't know that the prototype doesn't «fix» in his body. Therefore, the strength provided by the virus is not eternal, weakening with time.
So Wesker has to take PG67A/W regularly to re-secure the virus inside and stay strong. An insufficient dose of PG67A/W can cause malaise, and a large dose becomes poison. Which is what happened in re5 when Chris and Sheva injected him with the substance an extra two times. He experienced pain, and then presumably his powers escalated to the point where he no longer had control over them and they lost usefulness.
His son, Jake, also inherited genes and special immunity, which is why most viruses are harmless to him, but also do not give any advantages.
The fact that the forces of an overdose are not lost, proves the moment when Wesker easily damages the rocket with his bare hand.
Now back to the subject of hormones. Not only do they provoke viral activation, but they are a completely controlling element. Wesker, when provoking his emotions, can change the density of his own body, which also causes bioluminescence in his eyes. I noticed this when rewatching the re5 cutscenes. Always when he is about to strike, his eyes start to glow. Glow is emotion, and emotion is hormones.
This is why Excella can free pierce his skin with a needle and inject the drug, because at this point Wesker is calm and his body density is close to that of a human. In battle, his body is like a stone, it hurts Chris to hit him and this can be seen in his animations.
[The end of an optional fragment]
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The injections are another painful element that robs Wesker of his sense of self-worth and freedom. Therefore, coupled with the fear of losing himself, he has an inferiority complex. This complex manifests itself outwardly in a superiority complex - in arrogance, an inflated ego, which we see in his behavior. This is the answer to the question of many people, why he behaves this way. Not considering himself a full member of society, not considering himself suitable for ordinary life, Wesker begins to believe that he is above «all that» and calls himself God, in other words self-deception.
An inflated ego is the result of psychological defense, a sign of hidden fears (loss of self). It also indicates the presence of insecurity, which he tries to hide by creating a strong image for the outside world. However, like many people with large egos, Wesker has a fragile self-esteem, which is why he hates so much the rude Chris who initially discerned his weak side. His self-esteem is closely tied to his ego, so with the image he has created, Wesker protects a side of himself that he never shows to others. He hides it even from himself, as I mentioned earlier.
I thought Jake's AI words would be perfect here:
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This is the only fragment where I decided to have fun with AI, but it gave me something that really makes sense.
I would like to summarize, because the analysis turned out to be long, and something towards the end may have already slipped the reader's mind. So... What do we know?
Because of his nonstandard childhood and obsessive upbringing, Wesker has an unhealthy and extremely vulnerable self-esteem. By deceiving himself, he began to consider himself superior to everything ordinary, and to believe that he is simply not made for this cruel and unfair world with wars and diseases, so he dreams of creating «his own world», where there will be «equal» people, so that he will no longer feel superfluous.
Also, because of his childhood, he is withdrawn to the point where he hides his true feelings and needs even from himself. He feels safe as long as no one knows what he cares about. If you don't know what a person cares about, you can't manipulate him. And if he doesn't care about anything, he is invulnerable. He is afraid to be himself and express it. He himself doesn't know what «he» is really like. Judging by his phrases in the game, Wesker would like acceptance, but would never admit it openly.
It is also an echo of an effect he has been under the influence of all his life - the «fear of losing himself». This fear has become a convenient pattern of behavior in his life: pretending not to care about anything and believing it. People with this fear need to appear indifferent, not letting anyone know that anything matters to them.
But what is «fear of losing yourself»? It is the phobia that someone more powerful can manipulate you and take away your sense of security, of reliability, whereupon you no longer consider yourself strong and confident. Wesker felt for years that he was under Spencer's strong influence, his puppet, which cemented the «fear of losing himself» even deeper. Every step in his life was not his personal choice but Spencer's, Wesker was only made to think that he was acting on his own free will.
Loneliness and lack of empathy were also his eternal companions. Never having friends, never having family and support, and never having anyone that Wesker could cherish. And no one who would have treasured him. That's why he's so fixated on himself, because if he loses the only thing he has, he'll have nothing left at all. That's why he prioritizes pragmatism over emotion, easily betraying anyone and replacing one with another. But he also tends to cling to the past, sometimes betraying his pragmatism.
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Due to a misunderstanding, I would like to supplement my text. This analysis is only my personal interpretation and my personal view of the character and his story. I do not claim that it is 100% canon, because canon is so vague and disjointed that it is impossible to fully assemble it objectively. Everyone is entitled to have an interpretation different from mine. Best wishes to all!
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thealtoduck · 2 years
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Jason with a ”dumb slut™” boyfriend…
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Jason Todd x Male Reader
Damian Wayne x Male Reader (platonic)
Warnings: Superhero violence, mentioned sex, reader is a weirdo mess but in a kinda ”iconic” way, kidnapping.
Summary: You become an ally to the Batfamily in one of the most unexpected ways…
(A/n: This isn’t based in the Titans universe, it’s average dc universe, i just think Curran Walters is hot.)
(A/n 2: Reader is semi-based on the character Faye from Euphoria (i haven’t watched the show but i’ve seen some of her scenes.)
——
You met Jason at a bar where he was looking to release some stress and anger and you were looking for a hot hook up, both of you got just what you wanted, which led to some of the best sex in both of your lives.
The next day you woke up in Jason’s bed to find he wasn’t there. You pulled on your boxers and your hoodie and left his bedroom only to walk in on Jason talking to Batman and Robin.
To their suprise you didn’t seem faced at all by the scene you only walked over to Jason and said ”Jason, you’ve got any aspirin or something”. ”Yeah, in the cabinet in the bathroom” Jason said casually. You uttered a quick ”Thanks” before walking past Robin (who glared at you) towards the bathroom.
After you entered the Bathroom you heard Batman ask ”So… who was that?”. To which Jason asked him ”Do you really want me to answer that in front of my eleven year old brother?”. To which Robin asked ”Is he a prostitute?”.
When you came back out you answered both questions ”Okay so… Hi my name is Y/n L/n and no, i’m not a prostitute, Jason, do you want me to go make breakfast for you, your brother and Batman, while you discuss whatever the fuck your talking about?”.
”Sure” he said awkwardly. You made breakfast for the four of you. As you sat down with Jason and the two vigilantes around the table, they were discussing some case as if you weren’t there. You didn’t really care either honestly.
Robin then spoke to you suspiciously ”Aren’t you even gonna slightly question Jason’s relations to me or Batman?”. ”No, everyone has like that one relative you know” you started. ”Like my ex, his brother was a drug dealer” you continued casually as the others stared at you.
”I can give you his adress so you can arrest him” you suggested taking a sip of your tea. ”Why do you want us to arrest his brother?” Robin asked. ”Cause the asshole dumped me and took my headphones” you said plainly making Jason chuckle.
After breakfast you got fully dressed and Jason walked you to the door. ”So i know this became kind of a weird hook up but do you like wanna meet again sometime” Jason asked. ”Sure, just write your number here and we’ll schedule something” you said with a smile handing him your phone. Then you left his apartment.
As Jason walked back into the apartment Damian stared distastefully at him and asked ”What place could you have possibly gone to too find that guy?”.
After a few dates you and Jason became an official couple. He revealed he was the Red Hood after you noticed the cuts and bruises he had on one of your dates. He was suprised to see how chill you were to the whole thing.
But you had grown up in the slums of Gotham so that wasn’t the weirdest thing you’ve ever experienced. So you just cleaned his wounds and went on with your business.
You got meet a few more of Batman’s team members when Nightwing, Red Robin and Spoiler came by. You were 97,69% sure Robin had been gossping and telling the Batfam that you were a ”dumb crack whore” or something cause they seemed a bit judgy at first when meeting you.
Though they soon realised you were a very kind person but an odd one. You even came in useful with your knowledge of the slums of Gotham, knowing it’s gangs, dealers and all that.
They eventually invited you in for dinner to meet them out of costume. You were for the first time kind of shocked when Jason drove the two of you to Wayne Manor of all places. When the butler opened the door the only words you could find was ”Cool house”.
The dinner was nice and let you and Jason’s family get to know each other better. Stephanie was your favorite, she seemed to think you were really cool and loved your wild stories.
Damian was still an uptight little ass who seemed to think you were disease ridden streetwalker. Though his opinion of you would soon change…
One time Bruce asked you to pick Damian up from school when Alfred was busy. Though it wasn’t a smooth ride. Damian was whispering how it was beneath him to be around you when a car suddenly rammed yours making it crash.
Luckily you and Damian were fine but you passed out and the men who’s car rammed you kidnapped the two of you. When you woke up you and Damian were tied back to back in chairs. The kidnappers filmed a message to Bruce for ransom money and then left to do business.
”Damian, how are you doing?” you asked. ”I’m tied back to back with you, how do you think?” he said annoyed. This made you snap and say ”Listen here you little cunt, i don’t like you, you don’t like me, but i’m dating your older brother so i at least have to pretend i tolerate you. Now shut up and reach in to my pocket, i have a pocket knife”.
This shut Damian up as he reached in to your pocket and got knife and started cutting the rope.
Once Damian had freed you both from the rope the kidnappers returned and noticed your escape. You swiftly grabbed the pocket knife and shoved Damian behind your back. ”Back off or i’ll stab you in the throat!” you said fiercely as the criminals surrounded you.
”Oh come on cutie, give us the boy and we’ll let you go free” one of the kidnappers tried to offer you. ”No, your not laying a fucking finger on him!” you yelled.
One of guys tried to attack the two of you but you made quick work of him by kicking him in the balls and elbowing him in the throat. ”Anyone else want a go?” you asked the other thugs but as you did both Batman and Red Hood crashed through the windows taking out the criminals.
While they were making quick work of the kidnappers you turned around to Damian. You quicky started checking him over for injuries ”Are you okay? Like not anything from the crash or anything?” you asked him.
Damian was a bit stunned from everything he had just witnessed so he just said ”No… no, i’m fine”. Jason then ran over to you and pulled you into a kiss and then started checking you didn’t have any major wounds.
Before you and Jason left the scene Damian walked over and stopped in front of you and said ”Thank you” with a little bow of his head and then walked away again. ”What did i miss?” Jason questioned confused.
”That’s between me and Damian” you said simply and started walking towards the exit.
After that day if anyone ever made a rude comment about you, Damian would beat the shit out of them.
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gaoau · 3 months
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i've been thinking a lot about Suo and i need it to stop, so i wanna analyse him a little bit and say things into the void. normally i like to psychoanalyse characters in fics but i've seen that side of the fandom and i do NOT wanna go there, so i'm saving myself by pulling the same thing i did with Nanao ig.
disclaimer: this isn't necessarily a theory about his backstory as much as it is what i personally wanna see happen. see, if i were writing him, i'd do very specific things that could go in various directions, but since i am not, unfortunately, writing him and he's not my character to fuck with, all i can do is yap. which, also, probably won't be very eloquent.
manga spoilers for literally the whole manga up to date btw.
i don't think we won't be getting a backstory on him, to be honest. with a character like him, yeah, the mystery is part of the charm, and having this much anticipation can suck ass if once the secret gets revealed, it doesn't stick the landing. but i doubt Nii Satoru doesn't have something planned for him. why would bro be leaving Suo's room illustration out of the fanbook if there wasn't something there to talk about? what is in his room to talk about? but that's not what this is about.
anyway i'm gonna be so fr Suo's built like a dog. he's clearly full of shit, and yknow, that's fine, good for him, but there are things that are so painfully obvious he's just straight up lying about. after his fight with Kanuma, which is deadass the first time we see him fight, he says he "doesn't usually get so emotional," which ?? shut the fuck up? that's not true.
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i know a liar when i see one. we've seen him fight five times? six if i wanna be generous; in three of those he got crazy emotional (Kanuma, keel, and Endo), and just a tiny bit miffed with the gymnast guy idr his name fuck that freak. which, listen, to be fair, if someone touched a single hair on Nirei's head in front of me, real me too i'd kill a guy. but look me in the eye lil bro don't lie to me. real talk, though, he was more than ready to kill the keel dude, and was going to. he wanted to. he was shaking while Sakura held him back, don't play with me. he wasn't gonna stop just cause someone was interjecting.
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bro was itching to kill, side-eyeing Sakura, spitting snark cause how's the hot-headed mf who jumps head-first into a brawl without a second thought staying more rational than him, the rational one? Sakura's talking to him the same way i talk to my dog after she tries to kill my cat. i'm ngl my dog has better self-restraint than this kid. he also just straight up xd's his way out of it? like "oh whoopsies! mb gang! i was just feeling silly goofy! 🤪" like he forgets he's not supposed to glare at people with murder in his eyes.
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speaking of murder! this is where i want him to have killed someone before Bofurin. he's, like, 15? so there's not much time to work with, but the same way Kaji was going feral at idk 8 years old, i can see a world in which Suo actually went overboard when he was a younger kid. (i'm not saying this is what things are pointing at, but i want this to be the case. i would do this myself.)
he is emotional, i don't think that's up for debate. i understand why he gets so emotional and i do think it's very noble and cool and swag of him, that's a good person, somewhat, he cares about his friends and it pisses him off when they get hurt. i fuck with that. that's great, get him an ice cream (if he even eats fucking weirdo). but why are we acting like "i am chill ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ" when, clearly, that's not true?
here's where his teacher comes in. for how much grief i'm giving him, i don't think he's all lies at all. i don't think him liking Nirei and Sakura enough to not only speak highly of them, but also fuck a guy up for them, is a lie. i think he is as kind as Umemiya describes him to be, cause honestly, if Umemiya says someone is kind, then they probably are.
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i don't think this is necessarily fake as much as i think it's borrowed. it's learned behaviour. it's teachings passed down to him by his teacher. it's discipline. it's not something that comes naturally to him, but it is something a person he respects and looks up to taught him, so he tries to live by it. he's very clearly been disciplined, probably got beaten into the ground by his teacher, got his ass handed to him again and again and again until he sharpened his reflexes and learned how to control himself in a fight.
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he talks a lot about adulthood, talks a lot about maturing, talks a lot about self-control and whatnot. which, by the way, this is a child? lil bro you're fifteen go play on your switch idk. but i'd like to think this comes from someone telling him, "hey, what you did was not okay. you have a lot of strength and you're not an animal. use it wisely so you can one day grow into a proper adult." solely cause i want him to have killed someone. that's all i want.
i think it would make sense, really. how funny would it be if he was living similarly to Sakura? i've seen people headcanon him as a rich kid, but he lies a lot, and i wouldn't put it past him to be living in a sad, lonely one-room apartment. there's a billion ways things could be done with him. maybe his parents didn't care to try disciplining him, maybe he grew up with no parents at all. he has a short fuse, that's easy to tell, even if he acts like he's got everything under control. it's a very Suzuri type of situation, so maybe it's not the direction Nii Satoru is gonna take things, but one can dream.
as for the eyepatch, i haven't really thought much about it. the way i see things, he's gotta come from a neglectful background, so losing an eye would make sense. or maybe he did it himself, i'd love to see that (i would do that with a character like this if he was mine). if his eye is even missing at all, cause all things considered, it might be sort of just a way to give himself a handicap to remind himself not to go overboard.
which, circling back to the self-restraint thing, i like to think that's the reason he doesn't really use much excessive force. not to say he doesn't kick and punch, cause lil bro packs a mean punch, but he doesn't gravitate to hitting people. he's usually using his opponent's weight and momentum against them, which is why i was decently surprised when i saw him grab the keel dude and wind back to bash his face in. he's not violent, until he lets go of what little self-restraint he has, and then he is. it's values and principles that come from someone else telling him how to behave, except he still struggles to hold himself back.
to put it in simple terms, if he were my character, this is what i would do. i'd have him kill someone by going overboard as a kid, have him be taken in by this teacher, have him disciplined and clean his act up by beating his ass, and then have him parrot all these teachings at people he meets later. cause that's essentially what he's doing, he's just repeating things someone else told him. what does bro know about being an adult he doesn't even pay taxes go do your trig homework. but he tries, and you can tell he's trying, even if it doesn't come natural, he cares about his friends and he cares about becoming a better person, he's just a little too quick to snap.
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you know what i mean? he cares about Nirei in particular, he loves Nirei, he tries to learn from Nirei. (guys i love Nirei i wont shut the fuck up). but fr, he's got that Nanao complex where he instigates things or sets things into motion and doesn't quite participate. he watches from the back, for better or for worse, but he doesn't necessarily involve himself in things. he keeps a distance. he feels like the other side to Sakura's coin sometimes, learning about people and how warm they actually are. he's all prim and proper and nonchalant, but he recognises he's no match for Sakura and maybe even Nirei. after all, it's always Nirei the one grabbing both of them by the arm and dragging them places.
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he talks so big and maturely about not meddling too much with people who can't quite handle friendship yet, and then goes "!" when Nirei tells him "? fuck are you talking about? that's the more reason to teach Sakura about friendship." it's the look on his face after Nirei, despite Suo's long-winded and logical argument, goes to Kotoha and insists they help Sakura anyway. he's learning from Nirei too. also Nirei's crazy endearing so real me too but that's beside the point.
i don't think these parts of him are fake, but they might just be artificial. he's still integrating them into his own person and making them his, but he still slips here and there. he's not quite there yet. i hope he killed someone when he was 8yo. that's all thank you for reading thumbsup
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mo0nfairy · 1 year
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😍😍 OMG, I'm gonna be needing a part four to that Leon post stat.
(Love your writing it's amazing just like you are) ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎
part 1. part 2. part 3.
tw :: re4 spoilers, obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, violence, knives, tasers, guns, explosives, framing, murder, abuse of power, death of a character, physical restrainment, noncon touching, thoughts of suicide, being knocked unconscious, shit goes down basically.
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⸺ thank u, honeybaby !!!!! i've been vv busy these past few days, but this man has been HEAVY on my mind. i've also been listening to playing dangerous by our lord and savior lana del rey on repeat and it had my brain conjuring up some ideas... (also this part is long so buckle up friends)
you see, you've been praying everyday to earn back those damned memories that slipped from your mind 6 years ago. but in a attempt to do so, all you can feel is a gun against your head, an explosion against your body, and dust permeating your lungs. all before the classic cut to black welcomes you. no crying mouse-ley, no crying guard-dog. just empty darkness. through the abyss, however, you are now able to unveil memories that were buried deep within you. and whether the return of these past events is a good thing or not is up to you.
you remember a late august evening. the cool air and descending leaves would calm you, but your current circumstances prevent you from any serenity. an anonymous tip to the RPD claimed that you were in possession of illegal substances. and somehow, those said drugs had magically appeared into existence within your home. this leaves you here, being driven to the station by the officer of the month, marvin branagh. despite everything, you're grateful marvin was the one to arrest you. you happen to favor him and his basic understanding of boundaries, as opposed to a certain mutt you know far too well.
it's safe to say you've now got quite the reputation in the RPD with how much trouble you get into. and especially with how quickly the problems seem to fade away. you're being escorted through the station until another officer complains to marvin about some kids with fake ID's. he leaves you by yourself at an empty desk with one hand cuffed to the armrest. the desk right beside leon's. you look to the blonde beside you. his head is rested against his arms folded upon his desk, deep in slumber. his cheek is squished against the surface of his arm, pushing his lips out into a duck-like pout. your mugshot peeks out from beneath his sleeping form. you swear through his unintelligible murmuring, you hear a gentle whimper of your name. marvin had mentioned during the drive how he was up all night looking through your case (wouldn't be the first time), but you can't find it in yourself to feel bad for him. you don't trust him. even several years ago, something within you has always prevented you from trusting him.
you fiddle with a mr. raccoon toy as 20 minutes slowly tread by. completely overcome with boredom, you peak over leon's shoulder to see your case file beneath him. maybe you could find something useful inside, like the bastard responsible for all these false claims. using your free hand, you manage to slyly slip your case folder from under his weight. not without a quiet whine of "no, y/n/n... don't leave me..." good god, was he cuddling your mugshot? (it would be the closest he could get to you physically, after all). you ignore him entirely, thanking the heavens that this man is such a deep sleeper.
opening the file, you find standard information about your case. you read through the notes leon left behind, which causes nausea to then stir in your stomach. he jotted down his worries of your case closing and not being able to keep you in the station any longer; there was ideas of any potential loopholes in the system he could take advantage of and prove your innocence. beside his rambling, there was a long list of certain ways he can frame you for crimes to reel you back into his clutches. what in the actual fuck? and just when you thought this situation couldn't get worse, you find he used pictures of your friends at the shooting range, bullet holes piercing through their paper faces.
you read through the evidence in shock, until a sickeningly-sweet tone gasps your name and pulls you out of your trance. you look over the folder to see those familiar blue eyes peering into yours. leon lights up like a golden retriever with a bone when he wakes up and you're the first thing he sees, metaphorical tail wagging and all. to dream of you and to be the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, it is pure heaven! only, instead of the early morning, love-drunk haze within his dreams, he is instead met with the heartbreaking look of horror on your face. his eyes trail down to see you holding his notes and his heart sinks to the pit of his stomach. no, no, no, it wasn't supposed to be like this! it was never supposed to be like this! you were supposed to fall in love with him! you are supposed to be with him forever!
you are supposed to love him! you have to!
and you thought you've seen the worst, you thought you reached the bottom of the iceberg. but you were so, so wrong. it had been 2 weeks since you learned the truth about leon. since then, you were able to find solace within an old friend, claire redfield. not only do you adore her, but the layer of protection she had given you when you complained about the clingy cop on your hip was just the cherry on top. without leon, these 14 days were the most peace you have felt in what feels like months. you didn't know how the man who acted like he needed your presence more than air felt about this sudden separation. and to be completely honest, you didn't really care.
now, with your arm hooked around claire's, you two walk home after a night out in raccoon city. you're repeating old inside jokes and clutching your chest in heaps of rib-straining laughter. everything is full of high-spirits until you notice a certain cop car sitting in the street. claire enters your estate first, guarding you protectively while you follow her footsteps. you find (you guessed it!) no other than leon kennedy rummaging through your belongings. and the look on leon's face when he sees you with someone else is nothing short of pure anguish, sheer betrayal. he is jealous — so much so that it practically suffocates the room. you've seen plenty of emotions expressed by leon and the consequences that followed, but you've never seen first-hand what jealousy may compel him to do. considering the pictures of your friends he used as target practice, you feel as though the outcome won't be any good.
claire breaks the silence, "you disgusting pig! i'm calling my brother down here and he's gonna kick your-" her roar of anger is cut off with a sharp groan.
leon stands, taser gun in hand, as the electrodes strike into claire's body. she then falls to the ground with a loud thump, her form convulsing from the electric shocks waving through her. rushing to her side, you attempt to help her. but, you then cave into yourself when leon walks over in three large strides. and you now realize he is absolutely terrifying when he is jealous. his voice drops to a low husk as he demands you tell him who the fuck this is, a major contrast to the bubbly-puppy you're grown familiar with. you are left flabbergasted and are unable to mutter even a syllable.
you aren't even granted a mere second to compose of yourself before leon pulls a knife, plunging it deep into claire's chest. a scream of pure terror erupts from your throat. you're painted red as he relentlessly stabs your best friend, curling yourself into a corner and hiding your face in your arms. through your tear-stained vision, you see the lifeless body of claire and leon standing above her, huffing with fury like some blood-thirsty creature. something in his gaze perceptibly softens when he sees you, so scared and feeble. and it shatters his heart. after all, leon would take every life on planet earth just to see your lips curl into a smile, even once more. but, nothing could have prepared you for the words that would then leave his mouth.
he turns his body cam on. "y/n l/n, you are under arrest for the murder of... whoever this was. you have the right to remain silent. anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." you stare at leon entirely flabbergasted, but you're too exhausted to fight against him.
he bends down to you, light whispers of "you're ok, it wasn't your fault" and "i've got you, sweet angel" doing little to comfort you. with his gentle hands against you, leon proceeds to cuff you with the same softness you would use to handle a baby bird. and you let him take you away, because you are too caught up in looking at your best friend who was laughing with you just minutes ago now dead on the ground. you cry to yourself in the backseat of the cop car the whole way to the station.
by the time you get there, you are entirely in a state of shock. tears of dread stream down your cheeks, but your face is nothing short of emotionless. you are so caught up in your head, you don't even notice the whispers of other officers there. they gossip about how considering your track record, it's no wonder you'd end up here for good. a sharp glare from the man guiding you through the department is enough for them to shut their mouths. you're then brought into an interrogation room, with cameras off and no other presence besides you and this mad-man at your beck and call.
cuffed to a chair once again, leon locks the door behind him. he then drops to his knees and ties his arms around your waist, burying his head into you. it takes several seconds for reality to hit you, but you soon realize he is crying. and if you weren't restrained currently, you would've pushed him off and made him suffer a fate far worse than what claire endured. now, the two of you are sobbing together, but for entirely different reasons. you, full of grief over someone you love being murdered just moments ago. leon, full of agony over how the gleam of emotion he was so infatuated with left your eyes. all because of him.
you muster enough strength to plead to the blonde, your voice coming out through hoarse, slurred sniffles. but much to your dismay, your cries fall on deaf ears. if only leon had more morality than he did love for you.
"i'm so sorry, y/n, i just needed to hold you. even for just one last time” he picks his head up to look at you, face breaking out in a pitiful smile. “and i can't lose you. not again.” he grabs hold of your hands from behind your back and begins caressing the digits of your fingers. and the contrast between his smile and the crazed look in his eyes has you shuddering in apprehension.
"you're stuck with me to the end."
your eyes then flutter open to see a blinding white light; you begin to hear the quiet chant of a monitor beside you. where the hell am i? despite your current confusion, all you can think about is how you grieved for your best friend in the grimy cells of the RPD, how everyone turned into undead creatures just a week later, and how leon protected you from anything as small as a paper cut. you remember how several zombies overpowered him and how you took advantage of the opportunity, running like hell away and out of raccoon city. you remember the burning of your lungs, the rain on your skin, the hope of getting far, far away from this nightmare. you also remember the fear you felt when umbrella snatched you into their possession, to where you would soon forget everything that happened. including leon kennedy.
you're in the present now, as you can tell by the sheepskin jacket around your form and the hospital bed you're laid upon. it takes you too long to realize that you're safe, out of the hellhole that is los iluminados. looking down, you find a gun sitting by your hip (leon made the declaration that if you were to never wake up again, he wouldn't hesitate to end it all right then and there). you shift your train of sight to see leon at your bedside with his head in his hands while his entire body trembles with trepidation. the sight of this lovesick maniac at your side causes you to spring forward with a harsh gasp. his heartbeat skyrockets at the sudden occurrence. you're alive, and leon can't stop the tears of relief that fall from his eyes.
"hi, pretty... i'm here, you're safe now..." the smile on his face is borderline terrifying. his hands cup your face, practically clinging onto you like a lifeline.
"i remember... i remember everything..." the statement is entirely said to yourself, your gaze distant and not entirely there.
his eyebrows scrunch upwards, gaze softening (if it can even soften more than it already has). leon then pulls your face to his and molds his lips against yours aggressively, desperately. it isn't soft, sweet, or romantic in any sense. it is inexperienced, but overflowing with raw passion, need, and obsession. he only stops when the two are you are breathless and gasping for air. a dreamy sigh escapes leon's lips once he parts from you, gazing into your eyes as if you were something holy (which you are, obvi, but i digress). leon is so horrifically, irrevocably, disgustingly in love with you. and you can feel everything in his all-too overwhelming kiss.
he then engulfs you and melts into your arms like a noodle in boiling water. his light-headed, lovesick laughter fans against your neck. leon somehow pulls you impossibly closer to him, almost as if he were trying to morph the two of you together. it is too much; he is all you can feel, smell, touch. but, without a sliver of strength in your body, you are entirely vulnerable to him and his captivation.
"ashley... she didn't make it..." there’s a certain tone in leon's voice you can’t explain, but you shudder beneath it, anyway. he tells the information softly, but his voice is full of too much exhilaration to be normal. with these newfound memories, that dread returns to your stomach at the thought of what leon is capable of. what leon may have done to ashley while you were out cold.
through the abyssal darkness, your wish has been granted. you have now retrieved all lost memories.
and now, you know why you never were able to trust leon kennedy.
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the end !! hehe, thanks for the fun ride babes.
HOWEVER……….. this is surely not the end of my resident evil stained brainrot. so i will not be continuing this series, but i will most certainly be pouring out everything in my RE-obsessed brain. only if u would like to see it, of course. if u do, pls send me some asks!! and thank u again !!!
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ineffable-endearments · 6 months
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The Crow Road by Iain Banks
I finished The Crow Road and had a little time to think about it. I'll put my thoughts under a Keep Reading in case anyone is trying to avoid spoilers.
As I speculated before, I think it's likely that The Crow Road is more related to Good Omens in philosophy than in plot. I mean, it's not that the plots necessarily have nothing in common, and we could be very surprised in the end of course, but now that I've read the whole book, its philosophical commonalities with GO are both apparent and kind of inspiring. Also, if I were a writer, I'd be more interested in dropping hints about what themes are important than telegraphing my whole plot ahead of time.
So here, I will describe the book and point out themes that I believe may reappear in Good Omens 3.
This is a long post. If you read it, make a cup of [beverage of choice].
Update on 4/20/2024: I made a second post: The Crow Road and Good Omens: Further-Out Thoughts
Below are mentions of suicide, death/murder, and sexual acts.
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The Crow Road centers around a character named Prentice McHoan, a university student in Scotland who starts to sort out his complicated relationship with his complicated family as he explores the mystery of his uncle Rory's disappearance. Although the book is mostly from Prentice's perspective, the narration jumps around in time with the McHoan family. There are quite a lot of important characters to keep track of; the bare-bones summary I put below doesn't even include some of the important ones. I wanted to make the summary even shorter and simpler than this, but the truth is that this book is not short or simple, and if I made the summary any simpler, it might be downright misleading.
There are at least three major cultural aspects of The Crow Road that I am inexperienced with: the overall culture in the 1950s-1980s (I was born in 1988, so of course wasn't here for the relevant decades), the international experience of the Gulf War (again, born in 1988), and the history and culture of Scotland itself (I'm USAmerican with only reading as a source). As a result, I'm sure there are important dimensions to the book that I've missed. If someone has a different perspective taking some of these things into account, I'd love to know about it.
Also, keep in mind, there is a great deal of descriptive writing in this book. There are a lot of pages about the geography of Scotland, and about Prentice as a kid, and about Prentice's father and uncles hanging out together in their youth, and about various family incidents, and about Prentice spending time with his brothers and friends. At first, these passages seem to just make things more confusing, and in my head, I accused them of being "filler." But they definitely serve a purpose. They're a way of showing and not telling the characters' attitudes and relationships to each other. More importantly, because we get to actually live these experiences with the characters, they are what give all the plot points below their deeper emotional impacts. In other words, the everyday experiences give the plot its deeper meaning. They resonate with one of the core themes in the novel: that our experiences in life, rather than any supposed existence after death, are what matters.
The Crow Road's story is like this:
Prentice is rather directionless in life, and he seems to have trouble investing any energy in his own future as he moons over his unrequited feelings for an idealized young woman named Verity. Soon, Verity ends up in a romance with Prentice's brother, Lewis, and Prentice feels that Lewis "stole" her from him. Prentice has also become estranged from his father, Kenneth, over spirituality. Prentice believes there has to be something more after death because he feels it would be incredibly unfair if people didn't get anything other than this one life; Kenneth is not only a passionate atheist, but is offended by the notion of an afterlife.
Prentice's uncle Hamish, Kenneth's brother, has always been religious, although his religion involves a number of bizarre and offbeat ideas of his own, with inspiration from more traditional Christian notions. Prentice is not really sure about this ideology, but he's willing to talk to Hamish about it and even participates during Hamish's prayers, whereas Kenneth is openly scornful of Hamish's beliefs. Hamish interprets this as Prentice being on "his side."
Prentice has a few opportunities to go back and talk to his father, and is begged to do so by his mom, Mary, with whom his relationship is still good. Mary doesn't want either of the men to give up their inner ideas about the universe; she just wants them to agree to disagree and move on as a family. Prentice says he will visit, but he just keeps putting it off and off and off.
Prentice acquires a folder containing some of his missing uncle Rory's notes in the process of hooking up with Rory's former girlfriend, Janice Rae, who seems to have taken a shine to Prentice because he reminds her of Rory. Using the contents of the folder, Prentice wants to piece together the great literary work that Rory left unfinished, which Rory titled Crow Road; however, it becomes apparent that Rory didn't turn his concepts into anything substantial and only had a bunch of disconnected notes and ideas. He hadn't even decided whether Crow Road would be a novel, a play, or something else. The few bits of Rory's poetry for Crow Road read are bleak and depressing.
Prentice also spends a lot of time with a young woman named Ash. They've been good friends since childhood and seem to have a somewhat flirtatious dynamic now, but they aren't in a romantic relationship; mostly, they drink and hang out together. Ash tells Prentice bluntly to get his life back on track when she finds out he's failing at school, avoiding his family, and engaging in shoplifting. She is a voice of reason, and when Prentice insists to her that he's just a failure, she reminds him that actually, he's just a kid.
Prentice's efforts to figure out Rory's story or location stagnate, and he continues to fail at school and avoid his father. He then receives word that Kenneth was killed while debating faith with Hamish. In fact, Kenneth dies after a fall from a church lightning rod, which he was climbing in an act of defiance against Hamish's philosophy when it was struck by lightning; Hamish is convinced that Kenneth had incurred God's wrath. Ash is there for support when Prentice finds out about the death.
With Ash's help, Prentice returns to his hometown again to help manage Kenneth's affairs. Prentice speaks with a very shaken Hamish, who is handling Kenneth's death with extreme drama and making it all about his own feelings. Hamish tells Prentice that Kenneth was jealous that Prentice shared more in common with Hamish's faith than with Kenneth's lack of faith. However, this isn't really true, and as he contemplates his father's death, Prentice begins to internalize one of the last things Hamish reported that Kenneth had argued: "All the gods are false. Faith itself is idolatry."
As the chapters go on, Prentice is compelled by some of the meaningful items related to Rory that he discovers in his father's belongings. He gains a renewed sense of purpose trying to solve the mystery of where Rory went and what happened to him. Among the interesting items are an ancient computer disk of Rory's that Prentice can't access with any equipment he can find; Ash uses her connections in the US and Canada to find a computer expert who can finally open the files on it. This takes quite a while, since the disk has to be mailed and Ash's connection is investigating the disk only in his free time.
Prentice also discovers that his feelings for Verity have changed. He no longer feels angry with Lewis for "stealing her." At first, Prentice's narration describes this as his feelings "cooling" as a result of the trauma of losing his father, but interestingly, this soon means Prentice gets to know Verity as a sister-in-law without getting caught up in jealous romantic feelings. Verity gets along well with the family, and Prentice is actually happy to discover that she and Lewis have a baby on the way. Prentice's relationship with Lewis improves greatly as well, partly because he is no longer jealous and partly because he realizes he does not want to lose Lewis, too.
Ash's connection who was looking at Rory's computer disk comes through and sends the printed contents of the files to Prentice. The files reveal to him that Rory likely knew Prentice's uncle, Fergus, murdered his wife by unbuckling her seat belt and crashing their car. Rory had written out a fictional version of events and considered using it in Crow Road. I'm not clear on exactly how certain Rory was about Fergus's crime, or whether Rory would have intentionally reported Ferg, or whether Rory even had enough proof to publicly accuse Ferg of murder, but people would likely have connected the dots in Rory's work and become suspicious of Ferg. For this reason, Prentice believes Ferg murdered Rory as well.
Prentice confronts Ferg. He doesn't get a confession and leaves Ferg's home with no concrete proof of anything; Ferg denies it all. But Prentice is soon physically assaulted in the night, and it seems Ferg was almost certainly the culprit, because he hadn't been home that same night, and he had injuries (probably from being fought off) the next day. A day or two later, Ferg's body is found unconscious in the cockpit of a plane, which crashes into the ocean. It's uncertain whether this was a suicide, but Prentice suspects it was. Rory's body is then soon recovered from the bottom of a waterway near Prentice's home, where Ferg had sunk it years ago.
As the mysteries are solved, Prentice realizes his feelings for Ash are romantic love. However, it's too late, he thinks, because Ash is about to take a job in Canada, where she may or may not stay. Prentice also hesitates to approach her because he's embarrassed about his previous behavior, venting all his angst about Verity and his father. He isn't sure she would even want to be in a relationship with him after that. But the very night before Ash leaves, she kisses Prentice on the cheek, which leads to a deeper kiss. They finally connect, have sex, and confess their mutual feelings. Ash still goes to her job in Canada, but says she'll come back when Prentice is done with his studies that summer.
The relationship's future is somewhat uncertain because something could come up while Ash is in Canada, but Prentice is hopeful. The book ends with Prentice getting ready to graduate with his grades on track as a history scholar, fully renouncing his belief in an afterlife while he acknowledges the inherent importance of our experiences in our lives now, and enjoying his time with Lewis and Verity and his other family members.
What's the point of all these hundreds of pages?
Well, look at all of the above; there's definitely more than one point. But the main point I took away is that we get this one life, with our loved ones in this world here and now, and this is where we make our meanings. There is no other meaning, but that doesn't mean there's no meaning at all. It means the meaning is here.
It's not death that gives life its meaning. It's the things we do while alive that give life its deeper meaning.
The Crow Road is described (on Wikipedia) as a Bildungsroman, a story focusing on the moral and philosophical growth and change of its main character as they transition from childhood to adulthood ("coming-of-age novel" is a similar term that is interchangeable, but more vague and not necessarily focused on morality/philosophy). And, indeed, all of the plots ultimately tie into Prentice's changed philosophy.
After his argument with Kenneth, Prentice feels childish and humiliated, and as a result, he refuses to go back home, which leads to a spiral of shame and depression. Kenneth dies and Prentice realizes it's too late to repair the relationship, which also leads him to realize it's what we do in life that matters, and that therefore, his father's argument was correct after all.
At the end of the novel, Prentice outright describes his new philosophy. However, I can't recall one specific passage where Prentice describes the process of how he changed his mind (if anyone else can remember something I missed, do let me know). There is, however, a moment when his narration indicates that Hamish seems less disturbed by his own part in the incident that led to Kenneth's death and more disturbed by the notion that his beliefs might actually be true: there might actually be an angry, vengeful God. In other words, Hamish's philosophy is selfish at its core.
My interpretation is that when his father died, Prentice realized three things: how utterly self-serving Hamish's devout faith is, how Kenneth's untimely death proves the importance of working things out now rather than in an imaginary afterlife, and how much profound meaning Kenneth had left behind despite having no faith at all. After these realizations, a determined belief in an afterlife no longer makes our lives here more profound like Prentice once thought it did.
Also, it's worth noting that this incident changes Prentice's idea of partnership, too. He loses interest in this distant, idealized woman he's been after. In love as in the rest of life, Prentice lets go of his ideals, and in doing so, he makes room for true meaning, both in a sincere familial, platonic connection with Verity and a sincere intimate, romantic connection with Ash.
But what about the sex scene?!
Yes, indeed, at the tail end of the story, Prentice and Ash have sex and admit they want to be in a relationship together. Prentice's narration describes them sleeping together and having intercourse not just once, but many times, including some slow and relaxed couplings during which they flex the muscles in their private parts to spell out "I.L.Y." and "I.L.Y.T." to each other in Morse code. This is relevant because earlier, they had been surprised and delighted to discover that they both knew Morse code; it isn't a detail that came from nowhere.
I didn't get the impression that this scene was trying to be especially titillating to the reader. It was mostly just a list of stuff the characters did together. I felt the point was that they were still anxious about being emotionally honest, a little desperate to convey their feelings without having to speak them out loud, and awkward in a way that made it obvious that their primary concern was the feelings, not the sexual performance. They cared about each other, but they weren't trying to be impressive or put on a show; contrast this with previous scenes where Prentice would act like a clown in front of Ash to diffuse his own anxiety. I've always thought that being able to have awkward sex and still enjoy it is a good sign.
Okay, so what does this all have to do with Good Omens?
Here's where I have to get especially interpretive. I'm doing my best, but of course, not everyone reading this will have the same perspective on Good Omens, the Final Fifteen especially. I believe similar themes are going to resonate between The Crow Road and Good Omens regardless of our particular interpretations of the characters' behavior and motivations, but I suppose it could hit differently for some people.
The TL;DR: I see similar themes between The Crow Road and Good Omens in:
The importance of mortal life on Earth
Meaning (or purpose) as something that we create as we live, not something that is handed to us by a supreme being
Sincere connection and love/passion (for people, causes, arts, life's work, etc) as a type of meaning/purpose
Relationships as reflections of philosophy
The dual nature of humanity
Life on Earth as the important part of existence is a core theme in Good Omens, and has been since the very beginning. We all already know Adam chose to preserve the world as it already is because he figured this out, and we all already know Aziraphale and Crowley have been shaped for the better by their experiences on Earth. But Good Omens isn't done with this theme by a long shot. I think this is the most important thematic commonality Good Omens will have with The Crow Road. Closely related is the notion that we create our meanings as we live, rather than having them handed to us. Isn't this, in a way, what Aziraphale struggles with in A Companion to Owls? He's been given this meaning, this identity, that doesn't fit him. But does he have anything else to be? Not yet.
Partnerships as a parallel to the characters' philosophical development also resonates as a commonality that The Crow Road may have with Good Omens. Prentice's obsession with Verity goes away when he starts to embrace the importance of life on Earth and makes room for his sincere relationship with Ash. Note their names: "Verity" is truth, an ideal Prentice's father instills in him; "Ashley" means "dweller in the ash tree meadow" in Anglo-Saxon, according to Wikipedia, and "ash" is one of the things people return to after death. Prentice literally trades his high ideals for life on Earth. We see in Aziraphale a similar tug-o'-war between Heaven's distant ideals and Crowley's Earthly pleasures, so I can see a similar process potentially playing out for him.
I don't particularly recall a ton of thematic exploration of free will in The Crow Road. However, there is a glimmer of something there: Prentice feels excessively controlled by Kenneth's desire to pass down his beliefs, and part of the reason Prentice is so resistant to change is simply his frustration with feeling censored and not being taken seriously. As the reader, I do get the feeling that while Prentice is immature, Kenneth made major mistakes in handling their conflict, too. And Kenneth's mistakes come from trying to dictate Prentice's thoughts. There is likely some crossover with Good Omens in the sense that I'm pretty sure both stories are going to take the position that people need to be allowed to make mistakes, and to do things that one perceives as mistakes, without getting written off as "stupid" or "bad" or otherwise "unworthy."
Suffice it to say that the human characters in Good Omens will also certainly play into these themes, but it's hard to write about them when we don't know much about them except that one of them is almost certainly the reincarnation of Jesus. This also makes me suspect perhaps the human cast will be 100% entirely all-new, or mostly new, symbolic of how Aziraphale and Crowley have immersed themselves in the ever-evolving, ever-changing world of life on Earth. Alternatively, if we encounter human characters again from Season 1 or 2, perhaps the ways they've grown and changed will be highlighted. For example, even in real-world time, Adam and Warlock have already, as of the time I'm writing this, gone through at least one entire life stage (from 11 in 2019 to 16 in 2024). They'll be legal adults in a couple of years, and if there's a significant time skip, they could be much older. If characters from Season 1 do reappear and themes from The Crow Road are prominent, I would expect either some key scenes highlighting contrasts and changes from their younger selves or for stagnation and growth to be a central part of their plot.
The more I write, the more I just interpret everything in circles. Hopefully this post has at least given you a decent idea of what The Crow Road is like and how it may relate to Good Omens.
I'll end this post with a quotation that feels relevant:
Telling us straight or through his stories, my father taught us that there was, generally, a fire at the core of things, and that change was the only constant, and that we – like everybody else – were both the most important people in the universe, and utterly without significance, depending, and that individuals mattered before their institutions, and that people were people, much the same everywhere, and when they appeared to do things that were stupid or evil, often you hadn’t been told the whole story, but that sometimes people did behave badly, usually because some idea had taken hold of them and given them an excuse to regard other people as expendable (or bad), and that was part of who we were too, as a species, and it wasn’t always possible to know that you were right and they were wrong, but the important thing was to keep trying to find out, and always to face the truth. Because truth mattered. Iain Banks, The Crow Road
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fleursbending · 2 years
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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐆𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝. | Neteyam Sully
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𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 : idk if u write pure angst but, but, but i have a request. what about a neteyam x fem!reader where whenever she is in danger he always manages to get there in time to save her? something like '2 times he's in time and 1 time he's too late' [or almost too late, if u r not in the mood for a bad ending] (?) sorry if this doesn't make sense, english is not my first language :((
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : neteyam x fem!omaticayan reader
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : hi! this request got so much love so here goes nothing. you didn't specify if you wanted the reader to be human or na'vi, so i picked what i thought would best flow with the narrative :3. i slightly deviated from what's canon in the film as well. sorry, this took so long to get out and some of the tags were not working. - once again, feedback is much appreciated. enjoy!! (also i highly suggest listening to waiting room by phoebe bridgers whilst reading this.. i would link it but they took it off spotify).
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : atwow spoilers, injuries, angst, fluff, character death, blood, some cussing, mild gore (descriptive fight scenes), neteyam sickeningly in lword, established relationship, sully family being <3333, heartbreak!!!!! reader is a badass warrior.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 8k words !1!1
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @eywas-library @ghoulbli @ellabellabus07 @loves1ckgirl @your-daily-dose-of-fangirl @keijikunn @nijirozzz @eywas-heir @mymelodynumber1fan @kalims @bammtoli @blahehblah @iloveyomama44 @babamiasworld @rreyysol @stomach-bugg09 @xoxo-periwinkle-skies @23victoria @mashiromochi @grierpilots @buttercake2234 @bwormie @spicycloudsalad @missdreamofendless @neteyamoa @gamorxa
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𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐘 :
Thanator - or the Na'vi name Palulukan (meaning "dry mouth bringer of fear") is a carnivorous animal native to the forests of Pandora.
Yawntu - a loved one, lover, beloved person. This is commonly used as a term of endearment.
Woodsprites - or the Na'vi name Atokirina is a seed of the Tree of Souls that lives on Pandora. These seeds, according to the Na'vi, are very pure and sacred spirits.
Skxwang - a person who acts/is a moron or an idiot.
Mawey - a term equivalent to the human version of "stay calm/ be calm".
Awa'atlu -  a Metkayina Clan village off the coast of the Eastern Sea.
Uturu - a Na'vi tradition stating that any refugee seeking sanctuary must be granted safe harbor.
Skimwings - or the Na'vi name: Tsurak is a Pandoran creature inhabiting the tropical oceans. The Metkayina clan and other reef clans use the Skimwing for hunting larger prey at the surface or to dive deeper. It is also used as a mount during combat.
Melìew - your mother's name in this story.
Olo'eyktan - the clan leader is one of the most important members of a Na'vi clan and is similar to a chieftain. The leader is in charge of the clan and may rule along with their mate.
Tsahìk - the spiritual leader of a Na'vi clan, and the most important member next to the clan leader. The job of the Tsahìk is to interpret the will of Eywa, guide the clan spiritually, and perform important ceremonies such as Uniltaron and, in rare cases, the consciousness transfer.
Tulkun - a large, intelligent marine species native to the oceans of Pandora. Each Metkayina member engages a lifelong bond with a tulkun early in their life, whom they call their spirit brother/sister.
Payakan - Payakan is a young tulkun who befriends Lo'ak, one of Jake Sully and Neytiri's children, after saving his life.
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Neteyam and yourself were a force to reckon with. Your souls are intertwined and saved for one another. It was unspoken throughout the clan that you would be each other's mates when the right time came. An official seal, partners for a lifetime - even once your spirit settles with Eywa.
That's how it was supposed to be.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄.
𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, he had been worried that due to his father's insistent training, he would have missed the date you'd planned. As he made his way through the clearing of your "secret spot", he immediately halted. Getting into a defensive stance as he reached for his bow and arrows.
You stood still, while a few meters away from you - a Thanator crept closer and closer. Y/n had not thought to bring her bow and arrows, only a hunting knife.
For once she had not thought to bring more protection, just wanting to be at peace with her favourite person. She didn't know she would stumble into any trouble, they weren't even that far from home.
In the Omaticaya clan, you were the most sought out for your hunting skills. But nothing could prepare you for this. While hand-on-hand combat was something you continued to learn from Toruk Makto, you'd only seen a Thanator in the wild very few times. You knew to never engage, hide and calm your breathing - do not make contact.
But it was too late for that now, wasn't it?
Neteyam's heart missed a beat, but the arrow he aimed at the Thanator didn't. It pierced through one of its legs. Letting out a ferocious raw as it barred its teeth at you both. He didn't stand down, shooting another arrow - this time sinking into its other leg.
The Thanator let out a low whine, its eyes calculating. Before pivoting and disappearing back into the jungle.
It was silent for a few moments, the adrenaline still ramping itself up in both your bones. Making your way over to him you brought him into a hug, leaning your head on his chest.
It felt like leaves had been shoved down your throat as you struggled to speak from the sheer shock. "Always my savior, thank you 'Teyam."
He scoffed, smoothing down your braids and pressing his lips to your forehead not letting up. He muttered against your skin, so gently.
"That could have gone a lot worse, yawntu." His eyes flittered around your surroundings, his ears perked up and tail swooshing in high alert still.
Squeezing his shoulders, you tried to ease some of his tension. Rubbing your nose against his, before taking a step back.
"But it didn't! My warrior, the mighty Neteyam Sully! The crowd goes wild, ahhhh!" You cupped your hands around your mouth, making a show of it all.
Rolling his eyes at your childish actions, he bent down retrieving what his dad called a "picnic mat" and the basket you had hand-woven for these special occasions.
"Come on, silly. Let's head back, the Thanator could still be around for all we know."
You pouted at his words, accepting the free hand he held out for you.
"What about our date?"
"We could do it at the stream closer to home."
"Okay fine, I can get behind that."
He ruffled your hair, admiring your feline-like eyes that squinted at the gleaming sun. Your nose scrunching at the force of it all.
Yeah, he'd never get tired of this.
His soul felt electrified whenever he was in your presence. You brought out a side of him that he concealed to try to live up to the mantle of "the golden child".
You were aware of the pressure and how tiring it made him feel. The demand was ultimately too much for someone as young as him to carry on his shoulders sometimes. But he looked up to his parents, and Y/n couldn't blame him for doing so.
He's your other half, and you'll always support him and his endeavors.
That's why you loved moments like these, not including the Thanator. But you felt reassured that he'd always have your back, as you would with his. It felt like second nature to you at this point.
Loving Neteyam.
This was the way of life for you both, and while it sometimes got a little messy - you always found your personal ways back to one another. Even when duty calls, even if you only catch glimpses of each other for a few days.
He would always leave a mark on you, whether it was the multitude of armbands he would weave intricately for you. The ones he'd whine for you to wear so your clan knew of his intentions as if they didn't already. Or perhaps a searing kiss full of yearning and a lifetime of promises.
Neteyam kept to himself a lot, due to his constant strenuous training he didn't mingle like other kids his age would. Sure maybe with the elders, but he didn't exactly have a core group of friends his age - only his family.
And you, you.
His normalcy amongst the ever so often brewing chaos. A semblance of ease always coursed through him even when you'd bask in each other's presence in silence. He greatly valued anytime he had with you, and when he wasn't with you. Neteyam would always think of you and worship the ground you walked on.
Like how you felt loving him was second nature, the thought of you circling his mind came as easy to him as the action of breathing.
That's who you are to each other, always filling in the cracks. Not leaving a rock unturned, words did not have to be spoken out loud to prove your inclination to one another. It was already written in both of your dispositions.
A devotion so boundless does come with conflict though.
But you didn't ponder on that for the time being, instead, you let Neteyam guide you back home. The date had yet to even properly start.
If only you knew he'd be called back to his duties as the chief's son.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄.
This wasn't the plan. All Lo'ak had wanted to do was see some sort of wreckage that had been left behind from the war his father had led.
You were going to stay behind but Tuk insisted she wanted you to come with them, and that you had to join her. There was no way you could deny her cute pout and glassy amber eyes.
So you did just that, you accompanied them.
Time seemed to escape you all, too enthralled by what was left of the wreckage from what seemed to be a demon-flying mechanism of sorts that had been brought down. The foliage that surrounded you all as Woodsprites twinkled and fluttered with the soothing breeze.
After you all got back down from the tree and found Kiri, it was time to make the trek back home.
"We really need to head back before the Eclipse comes kiddos. Come on, move it! Let's go!" You mused, urging them to quicken their pace.
You halted as Lo'ak and Spider peered down at a large footprint.
"What is it?" Kiri insisted.
"We're always supposed to be home by eclipse", Tuk worried. Y/n patted her head in comfort as she looked down at the marking molded into the mud.
"That's way too big for a human", Lo'ak noted.
"Avatars?" Spider questioned in response.
"Maybe..." Lo'ak trailed off as he looked around him.
Lo'ak was suddenly determined to find out who they had belonged too. "They're for sure not ours."
"What are you doing?" Kiri inquired, confused as to why they were straying away from the direction that would guide them back to base.
"Shh, tracking." He controlled his steps as you all reluctantly followed him.
"This is ridiculous, I am not letting Neteyam take the blame for this one," Y/n stressed. Knowing somehow he'd try to put the baggage of this situation back on him.
Tuk mumbled Neteyam, under her breath, and smiled. Making you ease your worries and grin down at her. You loved the bond they shared.
You cursed to yourself as you crouched down behind some leaves. Staying vigilant, your grip on your bow tightened as you made sure to be hyperaware of any sudden noises surrounding you all.
Nervously you bit down on your bottom lips as you saw figures up ahead. Avatars in military gear? This isn't looking good.
Kiri sensing your worries, placed a hand on your shoulder as she looked at the Avatars as well. "We are never supposed to come here."
"Dad is going to ground you-", She continued whispering quietly
"Shhh, shhh."
"- for life!" You nodded your head in agreement as you flicked Lo'aks ear in annoyance.
"Ow!" He muttered quietly glaring at you, only to cower down at your fierce glare.
"Yo, we gotta go check this out," Lo'ak turned back around and said to Spider, nodding his head over to the infamous old shack. The place where the demon (Spider's dad) and Jake Sully had fought.
Y/n hissed at them, grabbing Lo'ak by his ear (again). He smacked her arm at the action.
"You two dipshits are really pushing it this time!" Y/n fumed, if she wasn't on edge before - she's definitely dangling over it now.
"It's going to be fine, we'll be on our own merry way before you know it! Now please, let go of my ear!" Lo'ak insisted, you rolled your eyes before letting it go.
She knew better than to put a stop to his actions because she simply couldn't. Lo'ak was an unstoppable force once he sets his mind on doing something.
Kiri groaned quietly. "Skxwang."
Your gut had a bad feeling about all this. This needs to be called in. They weren't like your people. Avatars that were carrying a lot of deadly weaponry. The ones that would come from the raids ordered by your Olo'eyktan. These people were dangerous.
Great mother, you gotta get out of here.
Keeping a close eye on Lo'ak and Spider, you whispered to Kiri and Tuk.
"Get ready to head out." They nodded at you, starting to realise the seriousness of this situation.
Lo'ak seemed to have read your mind, as they made their way back to the rest of you guys - he pressed his comms button attached to his upper neck.
He conversed with his father, telling him what he could see about the Avatars. Their location and who he was with.
You listened in with your own comms, one that Jake and Neytiri had graciously gifted to you.
Neteyam growled at the mention of your name and Tuk's.
"Y/n is there?" Neteyam asked through clenched teeth. The grip he had on his Ikran tightened turning his once blue knuckles almost stark white.
"It's going to be fine, yawntu. We're moving out." You tried your best to reassure him.
Neteyam looked at his parents, they could only nod at him to help him regain focus. Neytiri had only seen such worry cross her son's features very few times, she too knew this was a dire situation.
Neteyam closed his eyes for a short moment, processing. "Okay, we're on our way. I'm taking our shortcut."
Lo'ak looked at you in question, but you ignored it. Now is not the time.
"Hurry, let's go!" You ushered them out from the bushes, trying to head as far away from the old shack as you possibly could. You made sure to stay behind all of them, constantly turning your head to look back.
"We're all going to be in so much trouble!" Kiri spoke in a hushed tone.
Lo'ak turned to his sister. "Kiri, stop."
"Guys, come on!" Spider said.
Tuk looked back at you all. "It's almost Eclipse, come on!"
You were about to agree with Tuk before a pair of arms reached out from the hanging branches - grabbing onto her small body.
Her shrill scream immediately shifted you into the headspace you'd enter when on raids. Clasping your bow and arrow you aimed it at the unknown Na'vi. Before you could release the arrow, more of them popped out from the foliage surrounding you all.
Hissing, you put your backs against one another as they closed in on you guys.
"Put it down, put it down!" They ordered.
There was a lot of commotion, and you noted how they were speaking in English and not your native tongue. They definitely aren't from here, even if their bodies say otherwise. A lot of commotion was occurring, but your eyes never strayed from Tuks.
Lo'ak cautioned you all, "Guys. Put it down, put it down." He spoke in your language, you'll tell him how smart he is for doing so later.
You snarled but followed him. You knew there were too many of them, there was no way of getting out of this unless one of you got hurt. Trying to strategize you thought of ways to work yourself all out of this situation. But it was too late, they apprehended all of you.
"Mawey, Mawey." Kiri tried to calm Tuk down through all the yelling and sudden movements.
"Shut up, don't move!"
"What have we here?" One of them said. But he seemed different to the rest, more commandeering, and authoritative. He was the leader for sure.
It seemed Y/n's thoughts not too long ago predicted what was about to happen.
Before you knew it. You knocked your forehead into the Na'vi whose hand lingered too long on your waist and gripped tightly on your braids.
He retaliated by smacking your head with the barrel of his gun. Laughing as you fell to the ground, face being pushed further into the floor by the sole of his boot that he was wearing.
He chuckled, pressing down harder earning a grunt of pain from you. "We got ourselves a feisty one, would you look at that!" His comrades laughed and jeered at his comment.
Your friends though, oh they were livid.
"Y/n!" Tuk wailed for you, as Lo'ak did his best to not cause mayhem.
"Get up." You groaned as he anchored you up by your braids. Y/n looked at her armband through her blurry vision, reminding herself to not cause more of a scene. For she feared what she could lose.
"Mawey, Mawey, I'm alright." You choked out, continuing like Lo'ak to speak Na'vi.
"As I was gonna say before I was so rudely interrupted." The leader once again spoke. He looked at each one of you inquisitively, before one of his people showed him Kiri's hands.
These were the times you were grateful that the Sully children wanted you to learn english alongside them. You caught on to what they were assuming about Kiri. All of you did.
Y/n barred her teeth as the idiotic man once again yanked on Kiri's hair, feeling panicky as their leader approached Lo'ak.
He demanded Lo'ak to show him his fingers, only to get flipped off. You could only watch in pride, he truly was his father's son.
As he continued to nag at Lo'ak you could only ponder what they wanted from all of you, how could they know these were the children of Toruk Makto?
"No!" Y/n protested as he put a knife to Lo'aks neck. But the man holding her captive only strengthened the grip he had on her head of hair. You knew he wouldn't disclose his dads whereabouts, and they didn't need to know either that they were already on their way to help you all out.
When the leader spoke in Na'vi it took everything in your willpower to not mock him for how butchered his pronunciation was. These were definitely people from the sky.
"Get away from her!" Y/n screamed as Spider and Lo'ak joined alongside her telling him to get the hell away from Kiri.
As he spoke to Spider, your eyes met Kiri's. She worriedly glanced at your bleeding head from the gun being slammed into you. But to soothe her you simply mouthed that you were okay.
You were all going to get out of this, alive.
"Miles?"
"Nobody calls me that," Spider said in response.
Your eyes widened in realisation, as did Lo'ak and Kiri's. The man standing before you was Miles Quaritch, Spider's father who was supposed to be deceased.
The sky demon who raged war on your homeland, the one who had killed your father in battle.
You were not about to let him take away any more of your family. Y/n wanted to kill him. How dare he have a second chance at life, in a world like Pandora which he completely takes for granted?
Quaritch stands up, gazing around. "We are standing by for extract, over."
Extract? No, they aren't here yet.
Y/n struggled to fight against the tight hold on her as they started to move away from where they'd been ambushed.
"Let us go!" Kiri begged, pain evident in her voice. You could only shake your head at her, not wanting for her to receive the same brutal treatment you'd just experienced.
"Shut up!" The bald ugly one seethed. Demon trash.
As you were shoved to the ground you could only look up at the clear skies above you. Silently, Y/n prayed to Eywa in hopes they'd be rescued before it was too late.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚˳೫˚
Eclipse was nearing, and the gleaming sun was starting to fade away and rest for the night. You only wished you could do the same, but being held as a "viable prisoner" unfortunately hinders that.
But not too far from where you and the rest waited to be saved, there were three people who landed on a tree branch. Hopping off their Ikrans, they sought to do just that. To save the ones they loved most.
"You stay with the Ikrans," Jake ordered his son.
Neteyam could only shut his eyes in annoyance, his stance shifting to convey his determination. There was a fire burning in his eyes, and it wasn't going to cease any time soon.
"Dad, I'm a warrior like you. I'm supposed to fight," He urged. No, he pleaded.
He could not just stand here and tend to the Ikrans. The mere thought of doing so was agonizing enough for him. To wait for you and his siblings to return safely.
The boy could only let his fingertips brush against the choker you had made and gifted him only the night before.
"Neteyam," Neytiri understood her son's worries. But she already had more than enough on her plate.
Jake gave a slight shake of his head, "I won't say it again."
"But dad! She's-", He tried to counteract. Sway his parents somehow, his hands yearned for revenge. The anguish on the tip of his tongue, his bow weighing on his back like a ton of bricks.
"I know, son. And I will get her back too. Just, stay here." Jake sighed, placing his hand on Neteyam's shoulder for a moment.
Before Neteyam could try to rebut, his parents had already begun venturing off methodically.
"Yes sir." He muttered to himself, walking back over to his Ikran and placing a gentle hand on it.
He had to think of his own plan.
Meanwhile, the bioluminescence beginning to flourish right before your eyes made your heart stumble on itself. She didn't know who was going to arrive first anymore. Her saviors, or soon-to-be tormentors.
Your thoughts continued to remain astray as the rain pelted down on your skin. Y/n did not let it show how the water seeping into her open wound located at the side of her head had caused her immense pain. Instead, she clenched her jaw and continued to watch over her family.
Y/n's ears perked at the static coming from a set of comms, something, something. 3 minutes.
She had to resort to something else then, she has to devise her own plan.
Quaritch though, couldn't shake a feeling that something was awry.
"Watch our 6."
You tried to angle your head to try to watch over Spider and Kiri. Only to fall short at the harsh tug of your ear.
"Keep your eyes forward."
You glared into nothingness, Y/n had never felt so utterly disposable.
Neytiri could only watch on as she pressed herself further into the tree. She had a clear sight of all of you. Something untamed bubbled within her having to witness her children in such a vulnerable state.
Then you heard it, Neytiri's call. Sounding again and again. To any person it'd sound like one of the many animals dominating the jungle, but you knew otherwise.
Catching on to this, Lo'ak gave an affirmative nod to all of you.
It's time.
Kiri prayed to Eywa, hoping to assure her mother's safety in whatever was about to ensue. But you knew the cards had been dealt, now it was time for all of you to follow along.
Instantaneously a familiar arrow sunk into the head of the man who had been guarding Kiri and Spider.
"Contact made!"
Frazzled by the gunshots, you heard a faint call of Lo'aks name. Suddenly a green mist evaded your senses.
Y/n knew now was her chance to escape.
She felt it was only right to let karma be her bitch. As soon as the chamber of the gun the man who had been guarding Y/n had emptied. He maneuvered to replace it, but before he could get far enough - you played your card.
Grasping the front of the gun, ignoring the burn from the gunpowder. You slammed it into the perpetrator's chin, making him stumble backward. Closing your fist, you landed a punch to his face for good measure.
"Tuk, race. Y/n, come on!" Lo'ak yelled for you.
As you began to run towards him, a hand wrapped around your ankle making you propel onto the dirt beneath you. Groaning, you tried to crawl away far enough to push yourself up. But something had glinted in your peripheral.
Your knife. It must have dropped from whoever had them after Neytiri shot her first arrow. You'd thank Neteyam later for having polished your knife when he added new decorative beads to it.
Choking for air, your fingertips brushed against it but a sheer force pushed your arms away from it. You snarled in pain, having reached your limit with this pathetic demon.
Channeling everything you'd learned in all your training back with your clan, you ignored the searing ache. The back of your head met his face with a sharp force.
In his moment of weakness, you scrambled for your knife. This time successfully getting it in your grasp.
You crouched in a defensive stance before him, letting out a vicious hiss as you clutched onto your knife.
"You're gonna pay-", He started to say.
You gasped, both your eyes trailing down to the arrow now wedged in his chest. He could only let out a low groan, trying to advance toward you.
Only he went flying back, another arrow hitting him dead in the forehead. But they weren't from Neytiri.
Pivoting you let out something akin to a choked sob or heave, "Neteyam!"
There he stood strong and mighty as ever. Hidden amongst the nature the jungle provides.
He'd never heard you utter his name like that. The eldest son was so used to it leaving your plush lips in either a tone of endearment or humor. Always enraptured in strings of warmth and grace.
But the way you had just spoken his name, rooted him into the ground. Neteyam never heard you so debilitated, so disoriented. It made his skin crawl in agony.
The gunshots sucked him right back in. He lunged towards you, pulling you away from the mayhem.
"Na'vi!" Someone behind you hollered.
"Rot in hell!" Your scream was directed at your tormentor, you hoped he was still alive to hear those words.
Neteyam pushed you behind him, loading his bow. But before he could shoot again you both were tackled down by Jake.
"Go! Go! Go!" He shouted, pushing you two forward as gunshots rang out.
All of you found temporary solace behind a tree trunk, Jake's arm reached out checking over you both. His eyes widened at how beaten down you looked.
"Follow me! Ready? Ready!" Jake instructed you both. This time it wasn't training though, it was life or death.
Jake stepped out, firing a few bullets at the enemies.
"Move!" Jake bellowed.
You jumped into action, pumping your legs as you run. The chilled air wooshed in your ears and nipped at your cheeks. You hauled yourself over the roots of the trees engulfing you. Narrowly, missing the gunshots as you reminded yourself to not look back.
It didn't sit well with Jake how he was the one ahead and you two were behind him. "Come on!" He yelled.
Neteyam grabbed your hips, pushing you over an abnormally larger root than the rest of the others, understanding the pain you must be in right now.
He knew you were more than capable of getting over it. He just wouldn't be able to get over himself if you sustained even more injuries. It also gave him great comfort being able to see you right in front of him.
You don't know how long you ran for, only finally coming to a stop in a small clearing. Falling to your knees, you tried to catch your breath.
Neteyam had so much to say as he looked down at you, but he physically was in too much shock at the moment. So he chose to settle down beside you, bringing you into his arms carefully.
Jake brought you two once again - to a tree. There you leaned against it, waiting in silence for everyone else.
Soon the rustling of leaves grabbed your attention. Jake held a warning hand to you both, signaling you guys to stay put.
Lo'ak and Tuk made their way to you guys. Giving each other tender hugs, you graciously thanked Eywa for keeping them safe.
As Lo'ak leaned his head on your shoulder, he mumbled an apology to you.
"I'm so sorry for leaving you behind. Tuk was terrified, and I had to get her out of there."
You patted his head, allowing him to lean back and look at you.
"You did what was right, Lo'ak. I have no ill feelings toward you. I'm just grateful you're both okay." Y/n reassured him, as she kissed Tuk on the forehead.
Movement suddenly came from behind you, Jake pushed you and his children behind him - again.
Breaking out from the foliage was a worrisome Kiri and Neytiri.
"Mom!" Tuk cried, running to them. You sluggishly followed her.
Neytiri brought you, girls, into a hug as she too thanked Eywa numerous times that you were all here. She'd never had a reminder as harsh as this.
What she could have just lost.
Neteyam gravitated towards you after Jake embraced both him and Lo'ak.
He looked over at you, eyes and hands trailing.
"We need to get you patched up, grandma can help." He whispered to you, hands hovering over your bruised face.
Inwardly, Neteyam was seething. So many rhetorical questions were prodding at his brain. How you were already wounded when he first saw you? What else had they done to you?
Y/n crooned - "No, no. I'm fine, I'm okay."
"You are not!" He grunted.
His eyes looked dazed, far away. Neteyam was still in a state of terror. Not only had his siblings been put in danger, but his partner in crime as well. His person, was right in the thick of it.
He didn't want to linger on what could have happened if he and his parents came any later. He didn't want to fathom the thought of not just Spider being abducted, but all of you as well.
If his arrow had missed, if anything had gone remotely wrong...
As if you could read his mind, somehow capture his thoughts. Your thumb brushed over his cheek. Your other hand moving to cradle the back of his head as your hand sunk into his braids. Treading your fingers through it you leaned your head against his.
"I'm right here, Neteyam. We're all going to be okay."
Neteyam could only nod as he brought you into another longing embrace.
He'd do whatever it takes for you to stay by each other's sides. Whatever it takes, he will always protect you. Even when he is gone from this world, he vowed to himself right then and there - that he'd still look out for you.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄.
Awa'atlu grew on you over time. It took a while, a lot of adjusting, and taking new things in stride. But you made it this far now, and you felt like maybe this place was truly becoming your home.
It truly felt like a juxtaposition, from the forest - now to the water. Somehow it brought you comfort, Eywa constructed such beautiful places. The community around you, while hostile at first - was also beginning to warm up to all of you too.
Alongside your mother, you had followed the Sullys as you seek out a new place that would hopefully grant you Uturu.
It was truly a challenge, having to stay hidden to keep the people back in your clan safe. You knew it was the right call.
But now the tides were pulling themselves in, dread encompassing the place you were still trying to gain more understanding of.
Your luck was running thin. All you wanted to do was help Lo'ak save Payakan. To be there for your people, your new clan.
It seemed the world had other plans though.
Now you were stuck on the demon ship. Handcuffed to the rails alongside Lo'ak, Tsireya, and Tuk. Snarling you checked the restraints out, you realised you'd have to cut into it to be released. Dammit.
"Be brave," Lo'ak tried to remain optimistic.
Y/n could only hope that Neteyam had gotten back to safety far away from all this.
All your ears perked up, hearing the distinct calls of the Metkayina clan. You could see them in the distance flying on their Skimwings towards the ship.
"Na'vi inbound!" Someone yelled.
"Push left, spread out." Another commanded them.
Tuk had faith, they were all going to get out of this alive. "Dad," she called out to him.
"It's Sully."
Quaritch ripped the comms off from Lo'ak as the Metkayina came to a still in the water a few hundred yards away from you all.
"Jake, tell your friends to stand down. If you want your kids back, you'll come out alone." Quatrich asserted, grasping his gun and pressing it to the side of Lo'aks head.
Tsireya and you yelled for him to stop, whilst Tuk began to cry.
"You know better to test my result."
Y/n wished she could listen in, but she looked around for her mother instead. She noted how Neytiri and Melìew were nowhere to be seen. Must be up in the sky, hovering.
Quaritch was running out of patience, he moved the gun to your head instead.
"She took one of ours, maybe it's time to take one of yours. Like I said, do not test me!" You held your breath, trying not to make any sudden sound or movement.
Your blood ran cold, Y/n did not want to die this way. Especially not now, not when she has so much more reasons to live and experiences to fulfill.
Through gritted teeth, Quaritch challenged Jake. "Do I make myself clear?"
He stepped back, the weight of the gun easing off your head. Y/n looked on to where Jake and the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk were having a heated discussion.
It gave you a moment to ponder on Quaritch's words from before. She hadn't killed one of the sky people. But Neteyam did.
In the midst of all the fighting, it must have looked to them like it had been her doing. Whatever, that was the least of her worries at this time being.
Quaritch once again spoke to Jake through the stolen comms. "Offers beginning to expire. What's it gonna be?"
Y/n looked to Lo'ak after hearing him curse quietly, following his eyes you saw his father pushing on - alone.
"Easy shot." One of the fake Na'vi beckoned.
"You hit him now, they attack. Wait until he's on board."
Lo'ak and yourself let out frustrated groans through harshly gritted teeth. You were defenseless.
Abruptly water shot up as a familiar looking Tulkun shot out from beneath the ocean.
"Payakan", Tuk yelled out.
Water rained down on you all as he launched himself on top of the ship. You watched in astonishment as he wreaked havoc.
"Argh!" You grunted, pushing a nearby soldier to Payakan. Lo'ak mimicked your actions as he called out for his brother.
"Yeah!" Lo'ak whooped.
"Holy shit," You gaped as Payakan deflected the harpoon and dove back into the ocean.
The sound of gunshots had your ears ringing as you watched the Metkayina charge at the sky people. Sighing in relief as you saw your mother on her Ikran flying side by side with Neytiri.
Y/n could only observe as the sky people hopped on their own Ikrans and flew upwards. While everyone fought each other you used this to your advantage, trying to break free from your restraints.
Neytiri and your mother flew over the ship, looking down at their children in horror. Both of them shot arrows into the gunships that attempted to fly into the battle.
The ship suddenly jerked, before moving at a far faster pace. Shrieking as you were suddenly suspended in the air, before knocking back down onto the ship.
Water sprayed at all of you on impact. Lo'ak let out a pained groan as he pushed himself up, kicking at the rails.
"Are you okay," he asked all of you. You all nodded, before following his motions and kicking the rail as well.
Alarms sounded all around the ship. You needed to get out of here.
Suddenly, Tuk gasped gleefully. "Neteyam!"
Your head whipped to the side, distracted by pushing at the railing.
He held a knife in his head, grinning - "Hey baby brother, you need some help?"
"You're ridiculous," Y/n mused. Her heart soared at the sight of her boyfriend unharmed.
"Shut up, come on!" Lo'ak replied, looking over his shoulders to see no one was paying attention to them.
He quickly cut Tsireya out of her restraints, and moving onto Tuk he did the same.
Now it was your turn.
He gazes into your eyes, fighting off the instinct to caress your face. Cutting you out of your restraints, he could finally breathe easier. His hands hovered over your wrists seeing the angry red marks that now tainted your deep blue skin.
He looked to Tsireya and you, "Get tuk out of here."
Nodding, you grasped onto Tuk's arm running to the edge of the ship. You turned around as Neteyam stumbled towards you, eyes squinting seeing Lo'ak had rushed the other way.
"Lo'ak!" He called for his brother, making his way back to him as the younger brother grabbed a gun. You watched them bicker back and forth, rolling your eyes at their idiotic antics.
"Tsireya go, we'll meet you there," Y/n said as she took her knife out.
"No, Y/n!" Tuk pouted at you.
Leaning down you kissed her forehead, "I'll be back soon".
Y/n nodded at Tsireya before making her way over to the two Skxwangs.
"Come on bro, we can't leave him!"
You tugged on Neteyam's arm, "What's going on?"
"We've gotta get Spider!" Lo'ak exclaimed.
Y/n tilted her head up to meet Neteyam's eyes. He look troubled, but he knew if he didn't follow - Lo'ak would venture on this mission by himself.
It's just, something felt off.
You knew in those few seconds, Neteyam had the same gut feeling you did. It wasn't that you didn't want to save Spider, but the circumstances of everything were already against you all. Y/n had a terrible feeling about this, and the last time she had this feeling was at the Old Shack.
But you weren't going to leave them behind. Looking around, you also decided to pick up a gun.
Neteyam, realising the intent of your actions fought against them weakly. "No, go with Tuk."
You stared him down. He knew you already made up your mind.
Sighing, he pushed you in front of him. Each of you crept further into the ship, jumping on a nearby wall and climbing to the ceiling.
Y/n tuned out the sounds of the people running beneath her frantically. Choosing to continue to move along.
The three of you made your way onto some sort of connecting platform. Lo'ak put a finger to his lips, before pointing down below. Neteyam and Y/n peered over the edge, seeing Spider being guarded by multiple men.
As they rounded the corner, Neteyam signed "Jump down when I do".
In a matter of seconds he leaped down, you and Lo'ak closely following behind. You pushed one of the men into the nearest wall, immediately slicing his throat.
A hand came at your shoulder and gripped it harshly, but you quickly grabbed it as you turned around. Slamming the man into the ground you leaned down, holding the man's head - you stabbed your knife in his chest.
As you got back up, Neteyam suddenly pushed you out of the way. He grabbed the man who was charging at you and threw him down the ship.
Silence. Your adrenaline had your hands shaking, but before anyone could say a word - one of the men got up grasping his gun.
Lo'ak bet him to it, firing a bunch of rounds and shooting the man down.
Your eyes widened in shock, "Bro come on", Spider called.
Neteyam put his hand in yours, examining his brother.
"Let's go."
Neteyam tugged you along, jumping down as you all tried to figure out a way to get off this ship.
Spider thanked you all, but you saw Quaritchs right-hand man in the near distance.
"No!" Neteyam shouted, aiming the gun Lo'ak was pointing at him down to the ground. Shots were fired at you all as you crouched down rushing away from the henchmen.
"Give me that," Neteyam grabbed his gun whilst you held yours. You both peeked out, as you reached a corner. Firing in the general area the bullets were coming from.
"Go, Go, Go!" You and Neteyam yelled at the two boys.
Y/n checked behind them, witnessing them successfully leaping off the ship.
"Go, Neteyam! I am right behind you." Y/n urged, continuing to shoot at the men.
A deep guttural growl escaped him.
He wanted to complain, but the sound of more gunshots cut him off before he could do so.
He headed in the same direction Lo'ak and Spider had gone. Jumping into the ocean, he waited for you.
You looked to where the men were reloading the guns. It was now or never.
Right before you moved to leap as well, someone suddenly body-slammed you. Screaming at the impact, you desperately tried to reach for the gun that got knocked out of your hands.
A soldier held you down, and the bubble gum she had been chewing - popped. Giving you a deathly glare she dug her fingernails into your skin, drawing blood.
Y/n squirmed as she tried to resist and fight her way out of her deathly grip.
"You killed a good man in the woods. Like Colonel said, you took one of ours." She spat at you.
Any response you could have uttered was cut off by your own knife being plunged into your lower chest.
Y/n wanted to scream, to do anything but succumb to the faith that had just been handed to her. But the pain was excruciating, nothing like she'd ever felt before in her entire life.
"Rot in hell." She sneered at you.
It sounded ironic. The words you had screamed in a moment of triumph, resinated bitterly now.
She rolled you, pushing you over the edge as you plummeted into the water.
Struggling to stay afloat, all you could hear was your friends and lovers muffled cheering. Y/n could only smile to herself, at least they were all okay.
Everything else began to blur from then on, you remember them realising you were wounded. How Neteyam had never looked so disoriented in his life.
Oh, how the situations have flipped.
This wasn't the plan.
How dare he jump for safety and leave you to die? It should have been him.
"N-Neteyam." You choked out, your chest rising up and down rapidly. Y/n was grappling to stay afloat as her own hand tried to cover her stab wound.
Neteyam's heart shattered at the sight of you as he held you above water. "Shhh, save your energy. You're going to be just fine."
He took you away from prying eyes, keeping a lookout as he called for his Ilu. Lo'ak, Tsireya, and Spider were right behind him.
"Bro, we can take her to that rock over there." Lo'ak pointed, not too far but enough distance to separate you all from the sinking ship.
Neteyam nodded, continuing to hold you upright and letting you lean on him.
It felt like a million years, his entire lifetime seeming like it passed before reaching the rock.
With the help of everyone else, they lifted you on it, carrying you and settling you down.
"Watch her head, watch her head," Neteyam repeated. Pushing wet hair strands away from your face that was scrunched up in discomfort
"That could have gone a lot worse, yawntu." You quietly said.
Neteyam's smile was grim, suddenly taken back to your date in the jungle that had been interrupted by that mighty Thanator and his own personal duties back at home.
"Huh, yeah. It really could have. But it didn't" Neteyam stuttered out.
His chuckles that followed his words were forced, vision going murky at the tears that threatened to burst through his facade.
He knew even as Tsireya stuffed the stab wound with moss from the rock it was too late. There was too much blood, so much blood. For the very first and last time, he was too late.
Too late to save you, and now he didn't know what to do.
Your end is near.
Before there was an opportunity to aid you. To get you to safety - to save you from harm's way. But this time there was absolutely nothing he could do. He'd never felt so openly inferior.
All he could do was let Eywa retrieve you peacefully.
Your cries of pain tore into him, tears gushing down your face as he hushed you and tried to wipe them all away.
It devastated him to know there wasn't any way for him to feel your pain. He never wanted this to ever happen to you.
He truly thought that this move away from all the danger and war had bought you both more time.
He was a fool for thinking that life would bestow that upon him.
The sudden wooshing of Ikrans wings mingled in the tense air as Neytiri and Melìew landed on the rock. Jake, hopped off his Skimwing.
"Oh great mother, no! My daughter, my daughter!" Your mother wept as she fell onto her knees by your side.
Neteyam gripped your hand, squeezing it in reassurance.
"Mom, I did it. I'm truly a warrior." You struggled, your breath seeming to escape you quicker than you thought.
"You silly girl. You always have been. You always will be." Your mother soothed you, her hands holding your face and caressing your hair.
You meekly smiled at her, looking at everyone who surrounded you. Neytiri silently cried as Jake held her in his arms. It gave you a sense of comfort, through the pair - you saw yourself and Neteyam.
Y/n glanced at Jake, "Thank you for everything."
Jake could only bend down, pressing a hand to your leg and giving it a squeeze. He had so much to say. How wonderful you are at everything you do. The way you gave every training lesson your all. And the way you treated his son. But he had a feeling you already knew.
Neytiri moved to the free space above your head, gripping onto one of your mum's hands as she pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.
You would always be her honourary daughter, and she knew she was about to lose you. All she could do now was be here and try to give you some comfort.
"Neteyam?"
"Yes, Y/n?" Neteyam peered down at you, and you returned his gaze.
"Are we going back home?" She whispered.
He could see the light he adored so much fading away from Y/n's eyes. The faint wheeze in your breathing, and your skin losing its colour.
"Yeah we are, we're gonna finish that picnic date. You gotta prepare your basket okay? Don't forget the picnic blanket." His tears were free-falling at this point, but he no longer had the willpower to care about saving face.
All he cared about at this moment was you.
Numb to the feelings consuming your body, Y/n's smile widened. “Okay 'Teyam, can we bring our Ikrans?"
Neteyam forced himself to nod, keeping his tone of voice upbeat. "You bet, Y/n. I'll even race you."
You coughed as you giggled. Neteyam's frown deepened, as he cradled your face.
For the very last time, you nuzzled into the warmth his open palm provided. Taking in his faint yet distinct scent of salt and nature.
Peace poured into your heart and soul.
"I'm gonna win. and I'm always going to love you. I love you, and your wonderful family. I love you, I see you." You rambled, truly hoping you conveyed your last words well.
"I will always see you," Neteyam murmured, taking all of you in as well.
And then the light faded.
Tsireya was the first to realise this, she looked down at your blood coating her hands as she started to cry. Lo'ak held onto her, and Neteyam - knowing damn well he was about to need it.
"Y/n? Y/n. Y/n!" Neteyam wailed out a gut-wrenching cry for help.
He couldn't believe his eyes, he couldn't come to terms that you were no longer here.
You were with the great mother now.
"No, Y/n. Please! Come back to me!" He leaned his forehead on yours, closing his eyes tight. He prayed that when he'd open them, this would all be a ruthless lie.
That you'd be able to actually go on that other date. Live on to be each other's mates in the eyes of Eywa. To be able to witness and create a family of your own.
You'd be able to grow and flourish. Together.
His hopes and dreams were crushed the moment your last breath escaped you. Anguish and rage now consumed him.
They took you away from him. Robbed him of a life that was supposed to be spent being by your side, your eternal protector.
As his eyes opened, yours stayed the same.
His fingertips flittered over them, before closing your eyes.
Neteyam could no longer bare to look at what he had lost.
His soul, now as empty as your weightless gaze.
The cries of his family and your mother echoed in his ears, yet he maintained a tight hold on your cold hand.
This couldn't have gone any worse.
But it simply had. And now you were gone.
One with the ocean, one with the sea. Neteyam liked to think and believe they had welcomed you in harmony.
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𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑
⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡
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stormxpadme · 27 days
Note
There's a bit of fanfiction negativity in the tags :(. Looking for something to cheer me up, what's your personal scogan fanfic favorites?
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Yeah, I saw that, both in the scogan and scogean tag, with posts even including the character name tags. Like. Not cool, people. Way to make authors feel shitty who have been guarding the ship lighthouse for the last 20 years. Claiming in the most popular tags, there's only like 1 good fic among more than 1500? Wow, okay. So I was very happy to receive your ask. Let's counter that negativity with some awesome scogan reads!
Damaged by scottxlogan
Can't do any scogan rec list without including the leading authority on the subject. @scottxlogan is the author who pulled me into this ship years ago, not to mention they're a great friend, unbelievably talented writer and artist, and they deserve all the love. Damaged is surely one of their most ambitious projects and deserves every single view, kudos and review out there. Set in the DOFP finale verse that is no doubt the author's specialty, the story comes with an alluring, intricated plot that leaves you on the edge of your seat along with all the feels.
Submission by scottxlogan
I'm also including a newer work by the same author in case you just want to get a feel for how wonderfully she writes these guys, not to mention the shameless steamy goodness that are the author's smut scenes. scottxlogan is an expert at reversing common fandom tropes believably, and this will leave you longing for more of these power exchanges easily.
he carries the reminders by Wolfsheart
@mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea is another great friend and author I would trust even with my biggest squicks (not that she writes those anyway :D). She's not only technically brillant and very well-versed in the lore which makes every pairing she writes a great read (check out her Tony/Emma, too!), but she'll also never fail to make you laugh or put those hearts in your eyes. And don't miss all those pop culture references that even put Peter Parker to shame! She also gives us scogan fans exactly what we need with stories like this one, combining our fav hurt/comfort tropes with a healthy dose of canon fix it.
I loved you since I knew you by strangenewwords
@strangenewwords is a fairly new and dearly beloved addition to our group at @scoganbingo events, but she's already made a huge impact with her delicious smut and angst stories that hit you right in the feels. Technically also brillant, the linked story is definitely one you don't want to get spoilered for beforehand because the ending will leave you in absolute awe and tears. The author doesn't shy away from including the darkest sides of Scott's past but handles every subject with the necessary care and respect, and as I said ... You don't want to miss out on all that delicious smut!
The Day Before the Soldiers Came by Cerylid
Cery is offering a much-needed fixit for the team dynamics between the X-Men and Logan before X2 with this story. It comes with a lot of humor but also far more feels than you expect. The texting is hilarious but it's the quiet tones that get to you.
*****
Speaking of fix-its, since that negativity in the tags kinda got to me, too, I might just throw in one of my own works here too since I also got lots of Scogan stuff out there.
My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold
is basically my go-to X3 fix-it. You look for something to make that movie right, you got it all right there. Along with a bit of horror (we are talking about resurrection, after all) comes a dramatic rescue mission in a mental limbo, and you get an Avenger and Emma Frost guest-starring. There's a couple of follow up chapters that explore both scogan and Tony/Emma a bit further, and we even get a Laura version in old movieverse along the line, and of course all the nasty nasty smut you guys are here for.
########
So, that's it from the top of my hat. All these accounts have even more great stories to check out, and there's lots of other scogan authors out there with great stories to enjoy. So don't let anyone tell you, there's no quality scogan stuff on AO3.
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sunderingstars · 3 months
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☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆
✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ DIVERGENT UNIVERSE ⌝
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sampo analysis m.list
— what the stars reveal: interpretative analysis
— word count: 2.1k
— overview: a collection of thoughts on the divergent universe as it relates to mr. sampo koski (i dropped everything to write this as soon as i read the equation stories lol)!
— divergent universe spoilers ahead!
☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆
✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ MASKED FOOLS BOUNDARY EQUATION ⌝
— Unlocked after obtaining 16 Blessings of Elation.
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(please bask in the glory of at least fifteen attempts’ worth of rng (•̀ᴗ•́ )و)
The main thing that interests me here is the story; interestingly enough, the wiki showed a different story than the one I got for the expanded equation, so I wonder if there’s multiple stories 🧐 I’ll be going over both anyway!
Starting with the one from the wiki:
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This one is the most obvious to me as something that could relate to Sampo (although not as one-to-one as I believe Jester of Anatta is) — specifically, the mention of a “dynasty’s providence,” “fruit extracted from bitter hatred felt after falling from great heights,” a mask concealing an expression, & a glass running dry. I feel like there could be a lot of interpretations for this, so i’ll go through each detail.
— Dynasty’s Providence: In my opinion, this relates most to Sampo’s name as a reference to the finnish Sampo, an item meant to create and “provide wealth” in Finnish mythology — the specific usage of “conjuring” providence into a glass could be an indication of Sampo as a creation of Aha meant to dispense wealth or money, much like the function of the mythological item. There is also the deceit of the packaging, the hidden nature of something that looks one way on the outside, but is very different on the inside. If we are assuming Aha is the “you” in this scenario (and we are simply living vicariously through Them), then I also feel like there is room to interpret this as establishing a pattern of Aha liking to “hide” things behind seemingly innocent facades.
— The Fruit: I feel like this is the most solid connection to Sampo here; Sampo’s character very much emphasizes an underlying “hate” — whether of the self or of others — & the mention of “falling from great heights” makes me think this could be the reason for that hatred. It’s possible that Sampo was an Emanator or even Aha Themself in the past, but due to specific circumstances no longer inhabits that role. In context, this “hate fruit” is used as part of a beverage or concoction, which could also signal Aha toying around with Sampo’s status and/or power for fun (please god let this man rest) — it’s possible Sampo “fell from great heights” not due to his own machinations or will, but due to Aha’s meddling.
— The Mask: The mask is also interesting because it creates a direct link to the Masked Fools (in addition to the name of the equation itself). This implies that the “core” of Elation — perhaps even Aha Themself — lies in the Masked Fools, even at the heart of it. For me, this leads to three ideas: 1. Aha is most aligned with the Masked Fools as an agent of pure, elated chaos, and likely intermingles with them on a regular basis by wearing a mask (in this case They are not Sampo), 2. Sampo is/was Aha, or at least a part of Them, and the “mask” is directly referencing Sampo’s involvement with the Masked Fools, or 3. we are viewing Sampo as an Emanator of Elation here — the perspective we take in this story is not necessarily Aha’s, but rather the “higher echelon” of Elation.
— “Glass Running Dry”: I specifically wanted to point this out because it could hint at a double-meaning — one where the once “half-full” glass is physically empty, but also symbolic of Aha or Sampo’s disillusionment with Elation (or the current state of Elation factions). For Aha, this might reference the wear-and-tear of such a long existence intermingling with mortals in mortal form; things become boring very quickly, and the more They try new things the more new things They run out of to try. For Sampo, this could be an example of Emanator burnout, realizing that the Elation he has access to is more finite than he thinks, and easily running out of that joy the more he experiences it. It’s also possible that Aha!Sampo could experience both of these or even more at once, finding “Elation” to be a compulsory state imposed by the Primum Mobile — one They begin to realize They want to break free from.
Overall, there’s quite a few references to Sampo here, although I can’t parse out which specific theory is at the forefront.
(Misc. Detail: “Wanton flow of soda” could refer to Soulglad/Penacony, & “frozen lands of splintered realms” could refer to Belobog! I wonder if the “collapse of inorganic judges” could refer to a future plotline 🤔)
Onto the version of the story I got!
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The main thing that sticks out to me here is the presence of money — the context of the story is that of an auction, one with bidding and appraisals and rewards. This naturally leads my mind towards Sampo’s obsession with money, as this seems to be an event he would likely be at. Especially given the role of “you” as the one in charge of the auction (being the one to begin it and congratulate the winner), it also leads my mind towards a potentially past position of power; the Sampo we see today seems to be on a “smaller scale” from that of this story, placing importance on different things, so that makes me think this scenario could be reflective of past Emanator or Aeonic status.
If not, this could simply be Aha doing chaotic Aha things, while the references are included by Them to reference Sampo as either an Emanator or other influential figure. I also find the “would you like a drink?” line interesting, as it links back to the previous story!
Overall, I want to point out how tame everything is. Despite the chaos that ensues in both stories, they are surprisingly low-stakes in terms of physical and mental harm. In the first one, the “main” joke centers around the protozoa, but what exactly is the harm of unsuspecting guests drinking it? There’s no implied harm that would come from it — it could even be the same as microorganisms living beings naturally imbibe on the regular — and the guests may never even realize it happened. This “inside joke” even seems to be a backdrop to the stories “you” are more interested in hearing, the Elation of simply observing life. Whether “you” are a stand-in for Aha or Sampo or both, there is a care present. Even the word choice of “providence” links to spiritual care & protection!
In the second one, while there is clearly more chaos ensuing, there is no direct physical harm. When I think of the Masked Fools and fanatical Elation, I think of things like torturing people for fun or Sparkle’s seemingly genuine attempts to blow up Penacony, not this. Like the story mentions, the “show” is the main focus, not any kind of harm itself. The only “loss” is a monetary one, and from a rich duke at that. Again, there seems to be a clear delineation between Elation and suffering.
I find this to be pretty similar to both Aha’s modus operandi — operating in the background and/or setting things in motion through small events — and Sampo’s worldview — using Elation for protection and care rather than pain and suffering. While there is still an inherent chaos to these stories, no one seems (key word “seems,” to be referenced later) to be harmed by them. The guests are still having fun, and the people at the art show dug their own hole by being obsessed with money. There is no punching down, only up. If Sampo were to make any kind of big “joke,” I would imagine it would be like these: chaotic and confusing, but ultimately careful and calculated — something that allows for a good laugh, but doesn’t disregard the inherent dignity of human existence.
(As mentioned later, this lack of harm could also be a matter of perspective; it may not seem like harm because “we” are the one making the joke, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there.)
✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ JESTER OF ANATTA (NIHILITY X ELATION) ⌝
— Requires 4 Blessings of Nihility & 4 Blessings of Elation to activate.
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While the Masked Fools’ stories have references and ties to Sampo, I feel like this one is more direct about it. Not only does this equation sit in the intersection of Sampo’s two identities — Nihility and Elation — but it makes direct mentions to bombs (like Sampo’s burst), stealing from the rich, and being chased by guards. These are all specific actions in Sampo’s day-to-day life that makes it difficult for me to view this as a story not about him.
Protozoa makes a comeback in the first sentence, and since “you” are the one swallowing it, it feels like a hint towards a potential relationship between Sampo & Aha; perhaps Aha is the one making or “concocting” the jokes/drinks, and Sampo is the one “swallowing” them — there is also the chance that Aha’s casual sipping of the drink in the first story is indicative of Them “bleeding Sampo dry” but not even caring; to Them, he might be a backdrop to Their real interests, something to easily be drained before moving on. In this case, the contrast would come from Aha’s easy disregard of the glass “running dry,” while Sampo is one one actively in pain and being drained because of it.
Additionally, there is a very different form of Elation present here. While the Masked Fools’ stories seem relatively harmless in terms of effect, Jester of Anatta clearly shows a visceral and imbalanced relationship. Rather than unsuspecting guests going on their merry way or rich dukes getting scammed out of their money, this story features not only explicit pain and suffering, but casual dehumanization and self-destruction.
To me, this seems to focus on the “two sides of the same coin” motifs present in Sampo’s narrative — the highs of Elation, the crowds, the cheering, the lights and joy and Laughter, are contrasted with the lows of self-destruction, the bombs and the Nihility and the lights fading away. This is very similar to Sampo’s themes of “love and hate” as it focuses on two extremes.
Overall, the story is very tragic. It depicts someone who is so addicted to “Elation” that they can’t stop acting out even after the audience leaves, needing the validation of an uncaring “other” to support their existence. 
For Sampo theories, I feel like this mainly points to self-conception — whether he’s a creation of Aha or an Emanator or part of the Aeon Themself, we can gather that his relationship with Elation isn’t a healthy one. There’s even the implication that all he does in Belobog — the stealing, the running, the performance — is all for an ultimate end of self-destruction, the meaninglessness of vying for the attention of something that has simply moved on. 
I find this lining up with Doll! and/or Emanator! Sampo well, especially both theories at once. Sampo as both a creation of Aha and an Emanator could account for the “need” and the compulsion of each action; the subject of the story never seems to consider leaving or stopping, which could be a combination of seeking a creator’s indifferent attention, being intrinsically linked with Elation on a higher level, and potentially having the ingrained “purpose” of entertainment. 
It would also allow for Sampo’s inclusion in both the Masked Fools’ equation and Jester of Anatta. A purely Doll!Sampo would relate mostly to Jester of Anatta, while purely Emanator! or Aha!Sampo would relate mostly to the Masked Fools’ equation. However, a combination of multiple identities could allow for “both sides of the same coin” — for Sampo to experience the “high” of making jokes at a party or inducing chaos at an auction while also experiencing the “lows” of withdrawal, the need to constantly outperform himself to draw in more Laughter; an existence that is both the maker of the joke and the butt of it. (For my TMA listeners, think of it as similar to being an Avatar of a Fear!)
In fact, I’m beginning to think both equations could be viewed as different sides of Elation itself, with the Masked Fools’ jokes indicating the glossy surface of Laughter — as well as the misunderstood impact of actions — and Jester of Anatta indicating the actual messy nature of cause and effect. Perhaps the five-star stories seem so harmless not because they are, but because of perspective. Perhaps the harm is there, but we as “you” and Aha and perhaps even Sampo don’t see it, whereas Jester of Anatta shows us exactly what these “jokes” are capable of, almost like a domino effect.
I also think there is room to interpret the four-star Jester of Anatta as indicative of Sampo’s current status as a four-star character, and the five-star Masked Fools’ as indicative of Sampo’s potential future five-star unit, likely an Emanator or higher being. 
And that’s all I have! I don’t know how to end this though so uhhh funny man being silly. He is so silly but also sad & tragic. I need to give him a hug. (.づ•᷄ᴖ•᷅)づ.
☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴ thank you for reading to the end! feel free to share your comments with me, i love talking theory !!
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☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆
© analysis by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.
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lorem-ipsum-2099 · 2 months
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Symbiote Spider-Man 2099 is a Gross Misrepresentation of Miguel O’Hara
Spoiler Warning: Symbiote Spider-Man 2099 Issues #1-#5
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I am sick and tired of Marvel’s writers and their fear of writing a character outside of their comfort zone. There is no character where this is more apparent than Spider-Man 2099, Miguel O’Hara. The progressive disintegration of his character has been evident for a while now, starting (in my opinion) with 2099 : Manifest Destiny, but the most recent installment of his comic has been especially bad.
Symbiote Spider-Man 2099 had an unexpected, but well-anticipated, lead up with the return of original series author Peter David. Additionally, the symbiote mini-series was to pick up where David left off Miguel’s original run before the comic was canceled in 1996. Unsurprisingly, we were all excited for David’s return and hopeful for a return to form with the original characterization of our favorite bug.
However, this was not the case...
The series starts out exactly where the 96’ left off, with Nueva York flooding due to the invasion of the Neo-Atlanteans led by a now Venomized Sub Mariner. Spider-Man 2099 quickly shows up to save the day and the apparently large-scale threat of the invasion of the Neo-Atlanteans is solved within a page with said defeat reintroducing a vengeful Venom 2099 into the ocean. Upon returning to Nueva York, the symbiote is reunited with Kron Stone and promptly ends Punisher 2099 and now has their sights set on Miguel. Kron, who was recently beaten down upon by Miguel, is eager to accept the Symbiote’s conditions and sets out toward Alchemax.
Here’s when things start getting tricky.
Meanwhile at Alchemax, Miguel is not taking to being CEO very well. He is frustrated at the new responsibility placed upon his shoulders as he wants to use the company’s resources for good. However, things take a turn when a rogue researcher attempts to bargain with a new unnamed blue symbiote but is quickly thwarted by Miguel. Unfortunately, this scuffle results in Miguel’s bond with the symbiote as he is accepted as a host.
The symbiote, by the way, remains unnamed for the rest of the series despite being a new unique symbiote variant that spontaneously split from Venom when it was captive. From this point forward I will be referring to the Symbiote as Rapture, its fandom given name. 
Several more back and forths happen until the eventual confrontation of Miguel and Kron with their symbiote suits. Rapture has already been quietly feeding off Miguel’s frustrations and Kron tries to convince Miguel to join him in order to become more powerful. Rapture whispers to Miguel and tempts him with the prospect of a freedom of responsibilities, from being CEO, and from being Spider-Man in order to live the life he’s “entitled” to. WIthin the same page, Miguel accepts the offer.
For a character known for their stubbornness and will, Miguel did not really put up much of a fight. I understand he’s frustrated and Rapture is likely to be influencing his mind but COME ON!!! The romp that follows is arguably embarrassing.
Miguel and Kron take to the streets with their symbiotes and are suddenly all buddy-buddy with each other? Did we forget that Kron is responsible for Dana’s death? A death that, within the timeline of the comics, was not that long ago. But no, Miguel is completely okay with him now as they have a joyride through the streets of Nueva York terrorizing the citizens and even leading to injury and death of others. While Kron is enjoying himself, Miguel only voices a small amount of hesitation but makes no other effort to stop himself or Kron. It is frustrating to see Miguel playing around with his fiance’s murderer, his own attempted murderer, and overall awful person with minimal push back. I understand Rapture is likely influencing his decisions but that is hardly shown at all. Instead of getting overly aggressive, Miguel simply becomes passive.
AND even worse, Kron later kills Gabriel and THAT’s what sets Miguel off and he finally succumbs to Rapture’s murderous desires. After convincing Venom, you know the symbiote that absolutely hates his guts, to leave Kron and bond with him he lets Kron fall with the intention of killing him…
And then the two primary antagonists are defeated with a simple suit gimmick and Miguel is freed from TWO SYMBIOTES with little to no trouble.
Miguel, a character who has been established to have a strong will and desire to do good despite the burden of responsibility, is much too passive in this series. 
Like I’ve said previously, his modern adaptations feel more like a watered down Peter Parker rather than Miguel O’Hara. This is especially disappointing considering that PETER DAVID created this character’s personality only to leave him to the wolves. Having the influence of Rapture could’ve been a compelling story! Part of Miguel’s journey as Spider-Man has been owning up to the past actions working for Alchemax and finally paying attention to those who need help in the world. He is certainly no Peter Parker. Peter is a good guy who already knew of the good in people and value of Spider-man, Miguel had to learn through trial and error, and his self reflection of his past actions. 
The inclusion of a symbiote who pressures Miguel to let go and allow himself to indulge in his more destructive tendencies or perhaps a break from being a hero could be compelling! Especially since Rapture seems a lot more charismatic than other symbiotes with a ‘quieter’ and manipulative approach. Also, in my personal opinion, I wish the comic focused less on Kron and more on Miguel’s growing pains as he takes on the new responsibility of Alchemax and his role as Spider-Man under Doom’s government (oh yeah cuz Doom in this too). 
Overall, the comic was disappointing. While I’m not above character deaths, Gabriel’s death seemed anticlimactic and shoehorned in and was the ultimate nail in the coffin. AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE POSSIBILITY OF KRON STILL BEING ALIVE!
At the end of the day, these are my own grievances with the series. Rating wise, I would have to give it a 3/10. However, I would love to hear everyone else’s thoughts as well. Is there anything you felt I did not go over, got wrong, or want to add? Let's start a conversion! (please start a conversation i am starving for meegle content).
(Apologies for my rusty media critique, I’m a bit rusty. Consider this as my dusting of cobwebs lol. I hope I can provide more compelling 2099 takes in the future.)
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suguru-getos · 10 months
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| Aftermath | Keigo Takami x f!TherapistReader |
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-> chapter one
summary: hawks who has just lost his quirk in the war & coping with his life as a quirkless man, decides to finally listen to his own self & seek therapy. why did he choose a quirkless therapist? maybe to seek solidarity— or maybe, he hoped you’d not judge him.
warnings: therapy, childhood!trauma, bnha!spoilers, mentions of inner child healing, keigo talks about his childhood, mentions of toxic!parenting, cocky!kei as always.
a/n: don't mind me giving my comfort character and my loml some healing lmaooo <33 i had sm fun writing this istg it made my heart warm. this is a slow burn fic, and the reader is a self-insert on some points because i can get self indulgent tehee!!
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You wandered aimlessly, looking around the suite-like cabin and then down the skyline. Tokyo was always beautiful, even now when winters had just started to greet. There was a foggy blanket of clouds covering the labyrinth of buildings and you could never get over it. With your next client, it was obvious your thoughts were along the lines of… an Angel flying out in the skies keeping everyone safe, now reduced to someone without wings. Still an Angel though, but that's what you think. Maybe he doesn't.
You grimly sighed when your eyes wandered at the clock, there were still 30 minutes to your appointment, normally… someone like you would never get the opportunity to deal with heroes so popular. Hawks was a no show after the war, people thought he had died. People thought he left Japan for good. Though a faint glimmer of hope always made you want to believe he's still around. To your surprise when he was your client, you felt a knot on your stomach churn with anticipation and excitement.
You sat on your velvety chair, the lights dim and comfortable to the modernized architecture of your office. You gulped, opening his file and looking at the passport photograph of him. The scar he got in one of the fights in which a villain named Dabi publicized his kill was there, siren eyes staring into your very soul were there. How could you even try to open up someone who looks so ethereal and so threatening at the same time. You feel just as nervous as your first time, the personality that Hawks carries eating away at you slowly. You shook your head, jerking the thoughts away. Be professional, he is a client and you're doing your job.
If you hadn't been so dazed by your favorite hero and your crush; you were quite a number yourself. Cut-throat, not afraid to walk the talk, stern, fierce, kind and disciplined. People respect you and you command it when they don't. Not afraid to force someone to bend the knee if they indulge in animosity with you. It's just… Hawks was someone you admired oh-so-much! You had his merch and posters after all. Not that he would get to know that, oh no. That'd never happen.
Takami Keigo, 26, Born on December 28th. Blood group B+, MBTI-> ENTP, Schooling and training and everything was blank. Difficult, this would be a difficult case to deal with.
How did you fangirl over him? Well, that's perhaps for another day.
"Excuse me, Ma'am. He's here." Your assistant opened the door with a knock and you felt your stomach sink, biting your lip nervously and clearing your throat to gain composure.
"Hey there doc!" there he was, with his magical grin and long palms raised up to his eye level as he waved. Wearing denims and a loose fitted white T-Shirt. Casual, cute, confident.
"Oh hello Hawks!" You manifested the same energy, greeting him respectfully by standing up and bowing a little. "Jeez, can't get rid of the name yet huh?" He chuckles, though your mind has already starting to process if it was a fake one, the carefully crafted hero chuckle or was he genuinely this chill.
"I don't think so, whether or not you do hero work, you own the name." you responded with a smile, ushering him to take his seat. Oh he manspreads, leaning back and getting comfortable. Makes you wonder if he can see through the cracks of your personality just as you're trying to see in his. Who will unfold who first…
You closed the client book you had, looking into the beautiful goldens of his eyes and making eye contact. "So, I know the first session is usually the most awkward one. People try to get to know their shrink before letting themselves to open up." You glanced, and Hawks looked like he would devour you whole. He looked invested in your words, not in a faking concentration way… in a 'I will listen to what you have to say' way.
"Allow me to share some stuff about myself then, my name is Y/N. I am a therapist good morning. Apart from that, I like to participate in various hobbies like kickboxing, journalling, playing games, spending time with my cat, yada yada. I am an INTJ, I think MBTI has started taking the same wavelength in Japan as Korea huh? Everyone's obsessed with em' I think."
"Well" Hawks clicked his tongue, clearly unamused by your introduction, it was brief and curt. Not a fair deal for someone who will unravel him… then again, you are his therapist, not vice versa.
"I think so too, do you know, a lot of the fans pretend to be INTJs because they tend to be compatible with ENTPs?" He chuckled, rolling his eyes. God he does know everything… there was a whole article about this. "We could do the quiz together if you have your concerns." "Shyeah- no, I don't. Just sharin' yknow?" he winked, noticing how you nervously pressed your legs together. He was wearing Killian's Angel Share, and Bad Boy… one of your favorite scents & the effects were almost affecting you almost at a subconscious level.
"Mkay, gotcha! So, anyways… I don't want to force you to open up, take your time in it. Let's start simple. How are you?" You asked Hawks, and for a moment, the barest of seconds, you could see his eyes turn to a void. "Yeah, good, never been better you know? Vacationing now that I have a sick ton of money with practically nothin' to do. Ain't gonna waste it otherwise by being depressed."
You clicked your tongue, oh he would not open up huh? Well, not that you expected this to be an easy ride either. "Yeah, of course. Money does help… helps everyone. At the end of the day I'm sitting on this chair to be paid a hefty by you." You hum, crossing your legs and getting comfortable too. This would be a fierce mental war already. From the determination of a hero and from a healer who's been sought out by the same hero.
"Then again, it isn't everything."
Oh except if you could tell that to childhood Hawks, it was… it was everything. His eyes pale with the answer a little. "Led a very comfortable life haven't you?" He smirked, giving you a miniscule opening.
"Yeah, luckily." You responded, smiling… "Clearly you haven't."
Hawks stood silent at that, and that was an answer enough.
"You were a rich kid since you started your agency, was this your teens or childhood?" Before Hawks could decipher, the session had already begun.
"Well, I was the viral news subject after they found out I was Thief Takami's son." He raised a brow, and you nodded. "Shitty murderer dad, mum?" You felt bad on being so professional, but you also felt Hawks would push you away if you were too kind. Some people have stopped treating him as a person ever since All for One had taken his quirk away.
"Mum was well, absent, mentally." He responded, and shrugged. "Dad was abusive, used to beat me up as a child and mum was too engrossed in her own shit I suppose. Happy for her that she has a new life with a new husband and new kids." It was amusing how Hawks didn't sound salty about it… it could only mean detachment to the finest. A befitting coping mechanism.
"You didn't have to go through that, I'm guessing if I needed to ever, talk to baby Hawks, I can't have a childhood photograph?" You glanced hopefully. "Nah, not a single childhood photograph. Dad was too paranoid of things and mum didn't care."
"We usually uh, have this exercise you know? That you'd keep a picture of your childhood self at your bathroom mirror and remember who you're talking about whenever you feel self-doubt." You smiled, looking into his eyes with empathy but no pity.
"Well, too bad." He chuckled, embarrassed and definitely not liking this emotion.
"Who cares at the end of the day, it's just the first few years of your life." He responded again balming his own thoughts more so than talking to you.
"Yeah, but every phase of our life is important. When your father abused you, hit you, didn't you feel enraged? Or scared? Or both?" You bit your lip, trying to mentally detach as much as possible.
"I felt nothing. I just wanted to not end up like them. If I was as angry as him, then I would become like him. Even my childhood self knew I'm better than that." There was pride in his eyes when he said so.
"True, yes, however… no expectations from your mum to save you?" Hawks shook his head no, shrugging. "She'd get beaten up too."
You nodded, not writing anything down on the paper just yet.
"Alright, I want you to do something for me." He raised a brow when you said that, "I don't want us to traverse further until you try doing this, mkay?" You grinned, "Imagine someone coming to your home, breaking the door at the moment of your abuse, that someone is you. The big, pro hero, you. Then, I'd like you to hold little Keigo's hand, and take him out. How about that?"
Hawks gave you an expression which was a mixture of 'How absurd' and 'Interesting'.
"Do that for me, and do that as many times and in as many scenarios you feel like you needed to be protected. You needed to be healed from." You coo softly… meanwhile Hawks' brain lagged at you saying 'Little Keigo'. So far he thought you didn't know his name… despite it being telecasted worldwide. No, you just refer to old Keigo as Hawks, but little Keigo isn't Hawks… he's just Keigo.
Was he reading too much into this? Would you soon bridge the gap between little Keigo and Hawks? Would you call him Keigo too?
The alarm clock chimed, time was over. You glanced at it and then back at him. "Well, guess you wouldn't be bored anymore, of me." "Hey, give yourself some credit little Shrink." he winked, smirking, "You're really good at this, can't wait to see you next time." "Don't come until you don't do what I asked." "Sure thing jeez."
With that, he left, and you could almost kill yourself at the way you tried to imagine little Hawks in pain. No, attaching to clients is the biggest NO. Yet, you can't help but feel positive tingles at the thought of him doing that little exercise and telling you about it.
Until next time, Keigo Takami.
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fyodoro · 1 year
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𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧’ 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧’ - 𝐃𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐠
-> Dan Heng comforting his quiet s/o after they have a nightmare (req by @minimallyminnie)
-> I wanted to write this in a different way from all my other fics. I feel like most nightmare comfort fics have rose tinted lenses over them, so I wanted to take a different approach while also keeping a comfort factor.
Cw) nightmares (obv), implied/hinted ptsd, misunderstandings, nightmare remains vague so no spoilers here, cheating accusations, eventual comfort i swear (sorry minnie)
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Dan Heng wouldn't say he sleeps good per say, but he wouldn't say he slept horribly either. Perhaps if he wasn't so alert in his sleep, he'd be able to wake up the next morning and tell March "I slept great."
But that wasn't to say he wanted to rid of that sense of alertness, not at all. In fact, in times like these, he was ever so grateful for training himself the way he has.
You stirred ever so slightly in your sleep. It was brief and quiet, but not to Dan Heng. He always focussed on your movements when you were near. From your body language, to the way you faintly tilted your head when something piqued your interest.
With all the attention Dan Heng given you, it was safe to say he had you memorized.
And the way you were currently stirring in the midst of your slumber was out of character.
It was brief at first, nothing that concerned the young man too much. But his concern grew just as gradual as your distressing movements.
What started as a light shake of the head soon turned into your body violently shaking as you clutched your pillow for dear life. Dan Heng watched over your sleeping frame cautiously, refraining from causing you any more panic incase you were to wake up.
It didn't take a genius to realize you were having a nightmare.
Soft cries emitted from your lips, almost inaudible. But to Dan Heng, they were as loud as the Astral Express making the jump.
He wanted to wake you up, he really did.
But he was aware of the risks of waking someone up from a nightmare, especially someone with your condition. It could be jarring, even making the episode worse in some cases.
He knew it was best to let you wake up on your own, but it didn't stop the way his heart clenched each time you hugged your pillow tighter than before.
“Dan Heng…”
His ears perked up at the sound of his name, were you… dreaming about him? No, it wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare, that was made clear since his senses heightened.
But why would you be calling his name out in the midst of a nightmare?
“Dan Heng!” You jolted up, eyes wide and full of terror. You were panting heavily, as if you had just ran a marathon.
Dan Heng stayed near, examining your features just as he did many times before. He wanted to hold you, comfort you, tell you everything was going to be okay.
But he couldn’t.
If you had been having a nightmare about him, wouldn’t that be the last thing you wanted? The way you shook and avoided his gaze made him believe that was the case.
“I’m… I’m so sorry.” Dan Heng muttered under his breath. He knew deep down he didn’t do anything wrong, but he still felt the need to apologize for whatever his actions caused in your sleeping mind.
You didn’t respond. You were no longer panting however, rather, shaking anxiously. A chill ran up your spine.
It was a warm night.
“You- what did you—“ Your eyebrows furrowed, staring into the dimly lit void in front of you. “You didn’t… right? You couldn’t have…” Ah
Was he sure this wasn’t his own nightmare now?
“I was going to tell you… one day… I can’t run from it, can I?” His voice held hostility. Not to you, but rather, himself. He knew he would have to tell you his origins one day. But he never expected your own consciousness to tell you first.
“You were going to tell me what? That you were cheating on me?” Your voice cracked, refusing to believe that it wasn’t just a nightmare.
“What…?”
“Yeah, you can’t run from that, can you.”
“(Name) wait, you’ve got the wrong idea. I thought you were referring to something else.” He let go if his self restraint and finally reached out for you, only for you to swat his hand away.
“The wrong idea? What else could I be referring to!” You shouted.
“My past!” He yelled.
Dan Heng never yelled.
You went quiet, staring at him in shock.
It wasn’t like you were upset he yelled. More like… shocked. The guilt of your accusations hit you like a brick. But both of your reactions were justifiable to some extent. After all, you just woke up from a nightmare where Dan Heng cheated on you, just to hear him say it was true. On the other hand, he believed you were referring to something else entirely.
It was a confusing situation.
“I apologize- I didn’t mean to raise my voice like that.” He softened his voice, giving you a loving gaze you had almost forgotten about.
“I’m sorry too… I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that.”
You two sat in silence for a moment, a comfortable silence.
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