#i only thought of this because it fit the dynamic of original characters that i have in my head

[imjustavenuxwithaboomerang]

bi4bi but they're actually totally platonic besties who in their spare time talk about hot people and be overly affectionate with each other

[bloodygyaruuu]

The Sworn Partners for God's Sake

i am SOOOO ecstatic w/ how this came out! i decided to participate in @das-a-kirby-blog 's DTIYS since i needed some fun artistic challenge in my life. i will put all my thoughts below the cut because i need to yap but please look at this image for atleast 5 seconds since i spent like 25 hours on it <3

sketching this alone took some thought since i had to adjust the canvas multiple times to make sure everything fit properly. i've never drawn alot of these characters ngl, so i was a bit nervous going in so suddenly. i wanted to make all the past villians more, well, villainous looking so i just added some crazed expression and dynamic poses. i especially like how i did susie ngl. like shes giggling so wickedly i love. i gave kirby a more confused expression while bandee is in his usual worried state of mind. i also decided to make meta and dedede make sexual eye contact as lovers sworn partners. however... i decided to take dark crafter and yinyarn out back before telling them to close their eyes because, tbh, i really dont give a fuck about either of them. marx and magolor felt like much more fitting choices in the section of past kirby antagonist as i would consider them far more impactful (and fun to draw) than the ladder pair. also added blade knight cuz sword knight was there and he wasnt?? smh. oh and vul is smoking lmao.

the hardest thing in this entire piece was the line art. originally i did all my lines in black just because it's easier on the eyes when crafting all the pieces together before i layer a blue merge layer on top. i questioned whether or not to use the lineart as both eye-black and metal highlight/shadow but im incredibly happy with the result.

coloring became a tricky subject since my art utilizes very bright, vibrant colors with high chroma. i wanted to stay true to the og by only using the base colors but just... tweaking them a lil bit. i cant resist a good highlight in my art. when it came to nightmare and meta's cape, i am a longtime subscriber to the hc that meta is like his "son" in a way so i wanted to make a nod to that by making the gradient and star-design pattern of their cloaks the same.

to be honest, this was so much fun. but holy SHIT my back is on fire. shoutout to anyone who actually read this monstrosity of an artist's explanation, ur a real one. thank you guys so much for ur support and ill see yall eventually with another dumb kirby post <3.

[buckets-and-trees]

Warm Shadows - The Working of Your Hands [4/4*]

Collection: Warm Shadows Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Bucky x f!Omega!Reader, Alpha!Steve x f!Omega!Reader. Bucky x Reader x Steve Word Count: 15.5k Summary: With your original Alpha returned to you and your new alpha waiting in the wings, uncertainty can finally be dealt with and whatever the uncharted future will be, at least you can figure out what it will be. Big questions loom, possibilities must be considered, and the chasm of what the three of you have been through must be confronted.

Content Warnings: dark themes and experiences discussed, a/b/o dynamics, angst; explicit smut: oral (m and f receiving), vaginal intercourse, double penetration, unprotected sex

Additional Notes: I've been working on this chapter for a very long time. I finally got some renewed inspiration for it recently, and I originally had hoped to finish it for @biteofcherry's birthday because she's one of the biggest supporters for this story, but it wasn't quite ready for you then darling, so... slightly belated birthday. BUT ALSO! It did so much better than I dreamed it would in my 2200 Followers Celebration poll, actually coming in the top four, so I really kicked things into gear, and thought it would be a fitting gift for ALL OF YOU now that I actually hit 2300 this week!

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The sun is deliciously warm on your face as you shift and begin to wake up. Your body feels sated and content and initially that doesn’t seem strange, except your heart backtracks when you reach for Bucky only to find empty space on the bed next to you.

Another dream. Again.

Except there’s music playing softly from the little device in your hand – the one Bucky had shared with you!

Your face splits into a massive grin.

What’s more, you can feel the tie to your alpha again. The afternoon floods back into your mind, and you press your fingers over the bonding mark on your neck, warmth radiating through your chest. As you sit up and look around, through the bond you can tell that although he’s not there in the little cottage, he is close by.

So is your other alpha – you can feel him, too.

But that feeling is also different.

The bond between you and this version of Steve had crashed into your being as a hard and rough force. It had remained a hard presence - like a wall - while he kept you with him at the first Hydra facility, but lost the roughness by degrees over those initial weeks. When he worked you through your heat, broke and admitted some of what happened to turn him to the dark Captain Hydra, and orchestrated the escape for the two of you from the second facility, the bond had changed again. The wall morphed to more of what you could only describe as a firm hand against your chest, still holding you at bay, but more of a tangible connection.

And now something has altered it again. It's a hand against your chest, but not pushing up against you.

You know the only feasible reason Bucky would have left you had to have been to confront Steve, and the shift must be due to whatever has happened or words exchanged between them.

You slide of the bed and reach for your scattered clothes to get dressed. Your fingers tremble slightly as you pull them on, the fabric soft against your skin. You focus your senses, attuned to every whisper of movement outside. The wooden floorboards creak softly beneath your bare feet as you pad towards the window, drawing back the thin curtain to peer outside. The late afternoon light streaming through a partly cloudy sky bathes the surrounding forest in a golden glow. A gentle breeze carries the scent of pine and earth and wildflowers, mingling with something distinctly... alpha.

You catch a glimpse of movement between the trees. A flash of metal - Bucky's arm? - glints in the sunlight before disappearing again. Your heart races, the bond thrumming with proximity and anticipation. You press your hand against the cool glass, straining to see more.

Then, like a mirage solidifying, you spot them clearly. Bucky and Steve stand in a small clearing just beyond the treeline, their postures tense but not combative. Even from this distance, you can see the set of Bucky's jaw, the way Steve's hands clench and unclench at his sides. They're talking, but their voices are too low and their distance too far for you to make out any of their conversation.

You watch intently as the two alphas interact with each other. Your mind races with questions. What are they saying? How much more does Bucky know about what happened now? How will this change things between all of you?

Their body language speaks volumes - Bucky's shoulders are squared, his stance protective, while Steve's posture is more open, but far more alert and searching. You can feel the push and pull of their emotions through the bonds, a swirling mix of anger, guilt, confusion, and... hope?

Suddenly, Bucky takes a step forward, his hand outstretched. Steve tenses for a moment, then slowly, cautiously, reaches out to clasp Bucky’s forearm. The gesture is familiar, reminiscent of their old camaraderie, and it makes your heart clench.

As if sensing your gaze, Steve's head snaps up, his gaze locking onto the window where you stand. Even from this distance, you can feel the intensity of his stare. Your breath catches in your throat as a jolt of electricity seems to pulse through your bond. Bucky immediately follows Steve's line of sight, his eyes finding you as well. The intensity of their combined focus makes you shiver. Bucky's expression softens. Steve's face is a mask of conflicting and guarded emotions - regret, longing, and a flicker of the man you once knew.

You find yourself unable to look away, caught in the magnetic pull of their gazes. The air feels charged with potential energy, heavy with unspoken words and simmering emotions, like the calm before a storm breaks. Your fingers press against the glass, leaving faint smudges as you unconsciously lean closer.

Bucky gives a slight nod, his eyes never leaving yours. It's an unspoken invitation, a reassurance. You swallow hard, your heart pounding as you step back from the window. Your bare feet carry you swiftly to the door, hesitating only for a moment before you turn the handle.

The cool air hits your skin as you step outside, goosebumps rising along your arms. The grass is soft beneath your feet as you make your way towards them, each step feeling both too fast and agonizingly slow. The bonds within you hum with anticipation, drawing you forward like invisible threads.

As you near, you can sense there is a tentative, almost cautious, tension in the clearing surrounding the two alphas. Bucky's stance is protective, but not aggressive. He reaches out as you approach, his hand warm and steady as it finds yours.

"Omega," Bucky murmurs, his voice rough with emotion.

You naturally step close to him, drawing comfort from his solid presence, but your eyes go to Steve.

The other alpha remains still, looking continually between you and Bucky, his gaze intense but wary. The air between you all feels charged, crackling with tangled emotions and uncertainty.

Bucky squeezes your hand, and his thumb begins to trace soothing circles over the back of it. "We've been talking. Trying to figure some things out."

Steve takes a hesitant step forward, his eyes never leaving yours. "I..." Steve starts, his voice hoarse. He clears his throat and tries again. "I know I can never fully make up for what I've done. To either of you." His gaze flicks between you and Bucky. "But I want you to know that I'm trying to break free. To be myself again."

You feel a tremor run through you, a mix of fear and hope and something you can't quite name. The bond between you and Steve pulses, no longer unyielding, but rather something more malleable, raw and aching.

“I believe you, Steve,” your voice is soft when start speaking, but as you say each word, it grows stronger. “But I also know it. I’ve seen the glimmers of the alpha we knew before all this bleed through.”

You visibly see Steve’s chest swell a little.

Bucky's arm slides around your waist, grounding you. "Steve and I have spent a long time talking. We've agreed that we need to take this slow," he explains. "For all our sakes. But we also can't ignore what's happened. The bonds..."

"It won't be easy," you say, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside you. "There's a lot to work through. A lot of hurt."

Steve nods, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and regret. "I know. And I'm prepared to do whatever it takes. For as long as it takes."

You feel a slight vibration run through Bucky, and you squeeze his hand reassuringly. This is difficult for him too, you know. The alphas' friendship has been tested in ways neither could have ever imagined.

"We take it day by day," you say simply. “Even without the dark pieces, something like this is,” you pause, searching for the right word, “unprecedented logistically. There are no records I’ve been able to find of two alphas claiming the same omega.”

“How did you…?” Steve furrows his brow.

You smirk. “When you left your secondary tablet in our quarters, I figured out the password. I knew I couldn’t access any of the external network, make contact with anyone, or conduct any searches that would seem out of the ordinary, but it was safe to scour the internal database. I couldn’t tell you where we were specifically, but it was evident we were at a priority one research and experimentation facility. Their library was flush with theories and documented studies and countless records in regards to alpha, beta, and omega dynamics, mutualism, and biological networks.”

Bucky’s chest rumbled. “Clever girl.”

You couldn’t help but preen a little. “Thank you, Alpha.”

Steve shifted slightly. Together now, there were new dynamics to feel and figure out. Experiencing and exploring it all would be a constant evolution and experiment for the foreseeable future, uncomfortable as it would likely be more often than not.

But there was also a flicker of admiration that crossed Steve’s face. "That's... impressive. And resourceful."

You shrug, trying to downplay the praise even as warmth blooms in your chest. "It was necessary. I needed to understand what was happening to me. To us."

"And what did you find?" Steve asks, his curiosity piqued.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. "Not much, to be honest. There were a few theoretical papers, some speculation based on rare cases of polyamorous relationships involving alphas and omegas, some based on relationships that involved betas, but nothing concrete. Nothing like our situation. No omegas documented with bonding marks from more than one alpha."

Bucky's arm tightens around you protectively. "We're in uncharted territory here."

You nod, leaning into his touch. "Exactly. Which is why we need to be careful. Patient." Your eyes meet Steve's, holding his gaze steadily. "We need to relearn each other. All of us."

Steve nods. The air between the three of you feels thick with potential, with possibility and uncertainty in equal measure. You can feel the bonds humming, adjusting, seeking equilibrium.

Bucky is the first to break the silence. "We'll figure it out," he says firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt.

"Maybe," you start hesitantly, "we could start with something simple. Neutral ground."

Bucky tilts his head, curious. "What did you have in mind?”

You shrug. “Can’t get more basic than the three of us going back into that house and cooking and sharing a meal together.”

The suggestion hangs in the air for a moment, its simplicity almost startling in contrast to the complexity of your situation. Then, slowly, Steve nods.

"I'd like that," he says softly, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

Bucky's arm loosens slightly around your waist, his posture relaxing a fraction. "Sounds good to me. Though I hope you both remember I'm mostly still a disaster in the kitchen."

You can't help but chuckle, the sound breaking some of the tension. "At least some things never change. Steve, you still remember how to make that pasta dish? The one with the garlic and olive oil?"

Steve's eyes flare with recognition, a piece of the old Steve muscling through. "Aglio e olio? Yeah, I think I can manage that."

As you turn towards the house, Bucky's hand still in yours, you feel Steve fall into step beside you. The proximity makes your spine tingle, your body hyper-aware of both alphas. The bonds pulse gently, adjusting to this new dynamic.

Inside the small kitchen, you all move cautiously at first, cognizant every second of each other's presence. The space feels too small and too large all at once. You begin gathering ingredients, your movements deliberate as you try to establish a sense of normalcy.

"I'll start on the pasta," Steve offers, his voice low. He moves to the stove, careful not to brush against either you or Bucky as he passes.

Bucky nods, then turns to you. "What can I do? Without burning the place down, preferably."

You can't help but smile at that. "How about you set the table? Plates are in the cabinet over there."

As you all settle into your tasks, a fragile rhythm begins to establish itself. The kitchen fills with the sounds of cooking - water boiling, garlic sizzling, plates clinking. It's pure domesticity, and for a moment, you can almost pretend that everything is normal.

But then Steve reaches past you for the olive oil, and you feel the heat of his body, smell his alpha scent. Your breath catches, and you freeze. Bucky tenses immediately, his eyes darting between you and Steve.

The moment stretches, taut as a bowstring. Steve's hand hovers in the air, caught between reaching for the oil and pulling back. His eyes meet yours, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. You can feel the pulse of the bond between you, raw and uncertain. He worked you through one of your heats, and that experience was unforgettable and crucial to evolving your dynamic. You slept in the same bed for weeks and weeks now - a platonic but intimate negotiation of proximity each night, trusting in each other to some degree, but the bottom line is that the vast majority of the time has been spent with guards up between you until now. This is new and even though you're optimistic, your veins are laced with uncertainty.

Bucky takes a half-step closer, gauging the dynamics of the situation.

You don’t move, but it also means you don’t shrink or flinch. The tension in the room is palpable, but you're determined not to let it derail this tentative journey.

Steve takes the bottle with a nod, his movements careful and deliberate as he returns to the stove. Bucky remains close, his eyes never leaving you as he resumes setting the table.

As the meal comes together, the tension begins to fade again, replaced by a cautious camaraderie from things you all shared in what seems like a lifetime ago.

You find yourself falling into old patterns, teasing Bucky about his lack of culinary skills and offering suggestions to Steve as he stirs the pasta.

But reality reasserts itself in small ways - the way Steve's hand shakes slightly as he plates the food, the protective stance Bucky takes as he moves around the kitchen, the way your own breath catches when both alphas are near.

As you all sit down to eat, the atmosphere relaxes just a fraction again. You take a bite of the pasta, closing your eyes briefly at the familiar taste.

"It's perfect, Steve," you say softly, offering a small smile. "Just like I remember."

Steve's eyes light up for a moment. "I'm glad I could still make it right."

It’s going to be like this, undulating momentum and regression, but even the surety of that seems to settle your mind in its own way.

The alphas tuck in to their plates as well, and then snippets of conversation begin to flow.

"Remember that time in London when we tried to cook for Peggy?" Bucky says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Steve chuckles softly, twirling a bite of pasta onto his fork. "How could I forget? Nearly burned down the entire safe house. Neither of us knew how to cook back then."

You feel a smile tugging at your lips, even as a twinge of sadness hits you at the mention of Peggy. "I heard about that. Didn't you two end up ordering fish and chips instead?"

"And swore Peggy to secrecy," Steve adds, a ghost of his old grin appearing.

The easy back-and-forth continues as the alphas plate up more pasta and you reach for more bread.

As you all come to the end of your plates of food, the anecdotes ebb away and a more serious tone settles in.

"We’re going to need ground rules," you say, and they both nod. "But I say we start with this. We cook together, we eat together, we talk while we eat.”

“A good start,” Bucky says at the same time Steve murmurs, “Agreed.”

A small warmth travels through your chest, a modicum of surety.

Steve pushes his plate out of the way and leans forward on the table, his voice low as he speaks. "What else did you find in your research?"

You take a deep breath, organizing your thoughts. "Not much concrete, honestly. There were theories, speculation, but nothing definitive. The closest I could find were some old legends, stories of powerful alphas sharing an omega in times of great need or crisis."

Steve nods slowly, his brow furrowed in thought. "Makes sense. It's not exactly a common occurrence."

Despite all the uncertainty and complications, you can't shake something in your omega instincts that has you just believing that you can count on these two alphas by your side. Back in Brooklyn, the old Steve was the person you had grown to trust and rely on most outside of Bucky, and whoever this version of Steve is evolving into, it’s clear he is resolute in his investment in this future. It wasn’t something that had emerged out of nowhere today. You could look back and trace the threads of it coming together for a long time now.

It’s Bucky who cuts through the silence again. “I have something to share,” he says slowly, but there’s no hint of hesitancy in his words.

You and Steve turn your full attention to him.

“Well, go on, Buck,” the other alpha urges, his tone somewhere between curious, cautious, and suspicious.

Bucky takes a deep breath, his metal fingers tapping a soft rhythm on the table. "Over the last year, before all of this happened, I was already doing some research of my own.”

You lean forward, intrigued. "What kind of research?"

"Pack formations," Bucky says, his voice low and steady. "And how they could theoretically work in our modern world."

Your eyes widen, and you lean forward, intrigued. Steve's brow furrows, but he remains silent, waiting for Bucky to continue.

"It started as curiosity," Bucky explains, his voice low and thoughtful. "I'd been reading about wolf packs, about how they function in the wild. And it got me thinking about our own dynamics as alphas and omegas. How we might be able to form something similar, something more... expansive than traditional pairings."

Bucky pauses, his eyes becoming more intense as he recalls his research. "It started with some old texts I found in Wakanda last year. Stories of warrior tribes, of alphas who shared leadership and omegas who bound packs together. At first, I thought it was just folklore, but the more I dug, the more I found."

You feel a warmth spreading through your chest as Bucky speaks.

"They were rare and hard to find, but I found some fascinating anthropological studies on tribal societies in other parts of the world where multiple alphas and omegas lived together as well. They shared responsibilities, shared child-rearing duties. It was all about balance and mutual support."

The idea is both thrilling and terrifying, but somehow, it feels right, and your mind is already racing with the implications and possibilities.

He pauses, taking a sip of water before continuing. "I reached out to some contacts - anthropologists, historians, even.”

“Why,” Steve suddenly breaks into the flow of what Bucky was saying, “were you looking into pack formations? What possible motivation did you have before… before that night?”

Bucky's eyes lock onto Steve's. The corner of his mouth quirks up in a half-smile, and he shakes his head slightly.

"Really, Steve?" Bucky's voice is gentle, but there's a hint of reproach in his tone. "After all we've been through, you have to ask that?"

Steve's brow furrows, flickers of doubt and confusion crossing his face. Bucky sighs, leaning back in his chair. The wooden legs scrape softly against the floor as he shifts, the sound punctuating the moment.

"You and I," Bucky continues, his voice low and intense, "we've been part of each other's lives since we were kids in Brooklyn. We've shared everything - scraped knees and stolen apples, first crushes and last dances."

His eyes flick to you briefly before returning to Steve. "And then there was the war, and everything that came after. The ice, the fall, decades apart. But even then, even when I didn't know my own name, some part of me knew you. We've always been connected, Steve. Always."

As Bucky speaks, the air in the room seems to thicken with memories. You can almost see them - two young boys laughing in the streets of Brooklyn, two soldiers standing side by side in the midst of the Great War and later the Infinity War.

Steve swallows, and his gaze is locked on Bucky.

“End of the line,” Bucky reminds him. You’ve heard them say that to each other before.

Steve's expression softens as the weight of Bucky's words sinks in. "Buck..." he starts, his voice rough with emotion.

You watch the interplay between them, feeling the bonds pulse with a complex mix of emotions.

Bucky leans forward, his gaze intense. “When everything with the Infinity War was over, when we were both finally free - you from exile and me from the conditioning - and we got to go home to Brooklyn, it did feel like going home, but it was also different. We’d both changed, grown. And then came our omega.” His eyes meet yours, warm and full of love. “Suddenly, it wasn’t just the two of us. It was three, and everything finally felt right for me.”

You feel your breath catch in your throat, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Bucky reaches out, taking your hand in his. You can’t look away from Bucky in this moment, but you do feel Steve’s eyes on you now, too.

“That’s why I started researching pack dynamics,” Bucky continues. His eyes go back to Steve, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. “I could feel it building, this connection between the three of us. It was more than just friendship, more than just a singular alpha and omega bond. It was… family. Pack.

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at Bucky's words, at the acknowledgment of the bond that had been growing between all of you even before everything changed.

Steve's breath catches audibly. "Buck, I… I didn't know. I never thought…"

Bucky reaches out, his hand resting on Steve's forearm. "I know. And I should have said something sooner. To both of you. But I wanted to understand it better first, to see what the possibilities could be. If we hadn’t ended up like we are now, I felt that you would always fiercely protect us, like I would either of you, and if you’d ever bonded with another omega, it seemed natural that I would have felt about them the way you felt about…”

Bucky falters slightly, unable to finish. He squeezes your hand, and you grip it tightly right back.

You know there will be moments like this where the wound is torn open again, but if the three of you are diligent in working to heal, one day it may only be a scar.

A heavy silence falls over the three of you, the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders. The bonds between you all pulse with a mix of uncertainty and determination.

“So,” you prompt, “I already have two bonds, two alphas, but how would a pack potentially work?”

Bucky takes a deep breath, his eyes flickering between you and Steve. "The most fascinating part of my research was about the bonding of alphas within a pack," he begins, his voice taking on a tone of eagerness. "It's not like the bond between an alpha and an omega. It's deeper, more primal."

He leans forward, an awe glinting in his eyes. "In the ancient texts I found, there were descriptions of a ritual. A blood bond between alphas."

You look at Steve, and your heart leaps because this moment feels like before, when Bucky would launch into an explanation of something he was passionate about, and you and Steve would go on that journey with him because Bucky was fiercely intelligent, and his enthusiasm when he got like this was irresistible. It’s the briefest of exchanges, but it’s like a suture in your heart.

"A blood bond?" Steve asks, prompting Bucky to continue.

Bucky nods, his metal arm gleaming in the soft light of the kitchen. "The alphas would come together under a full moon, usually in a sacred place - a grove, a mountaintop, somewhere with power. They'd bring their pack, their omegas, as witnesses."

As Bucky speaks, you can almost see it - moonlight filtering through ancient trees, the air thick with anticipation and the scent of alpha pheromones.

As he speaks, you can almost see it - the moonlight filtering through the leaves of ancient trees, casting dappled shadows on a forest floor. The scent of earth and night-blooming flowers and alpha pheromones heavy in the air.

"They'd stand in a circle, usually in a place of power - a clearing in an ancient forest, or atop a windswept hill. Each alpha would make a small cut on their palm with a ceremonial blade."

Bucky's voice drops lower, almost hypnotic as he continues, "Each alpha would make a small cut on their palm, then then they would stand in a circle and join hands, mixing their blood. As they did, they'd recite an oath - swearing to protect and provide for the pack, to lead with wisdom and strength, to share in both the triumphs and burdens."

You feel a shiver run down your spine. Steve leans forward, riveted as he listens.

"The texts described it as transformative. They say that as the oath was spoken there under the light of the full moon, a bond would form between the alphas. Not like an alpha-omega bond, but something different. Complementary. It was said to enhance their ability to protect the pack. Some accounts even mentioned shared thoughts or feelings or drawing on each other’s strength in moments of great need.”

"And the omegas?" you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky's eyes meet yours, warm and full of promise. "The omegas were crucial. They were the heart of the pack, the ones who bound it all together. Their presence during the ritual was said to amplify the bond, to make it stronger."

Steve clears his throat, his voice rough with emotion when he speaks. "And you think this could work?”

Bucky's eyes meet Steve's, a fierce determination in their depths. "I think it's worth trying," he says softly. "We're already bonded through our past, and now through our omega. This could complete the circle, so to speak."

Your mind racing with possibilities. The bonds within you pulse with anticipation and a hint of nervousness.

"When?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky glances out the window, his expression thoughtful. "The next full moon is in about two weeks. That would give us time to prepare, to adjust to this new dynamic."

Steve nods slowly, his gaze moving between you and Bucky. “You want this, Buck. I want this. But do you want this, Omega?” he asks, shifting his whole body to focus on you.

Your heart beats loudly in your chest, your eyes searching his blues, his searching yours just as diligently.

“I gave you no choice in changing your reality as an omega before, I will never do that again,” he says so fiercely it feels more like a solemn vow.

The blood running through your veins heats up, surging through you with a new fire. You don’t speak. You don’t have the words to convey everything running through your heart, your mind, your soul.

You push your chair back from the table and stand, eyes still fixed on Steve, your movements deliberate as you approach him. The air between you crackles with tension and possibility. Bucky watches intently, his body coiled with anticipation.

You stand before Steve, your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes never leave yours as you reach out, cupping his face gently in your hands. You can feel the slight tremor that runs through him at your touch.

"Alpha," you say, the word heavy with meaning.

"Omega," he breathes, his voice thick with emotion.

You lean in, pressing your forehead against his. Steve's breath quickens, his hands coming up to rest lightly on your waist. The bond between you pulses, warm and alive.

Bucky stands, moving to join you. His presence at your back is solid, comforting. You feel his hand on your hip, anchoring you.

You slide your right hand from his cheek slowly down the column of Steve’s throat until your fingers rest over the juncture of his neck and shoulder. You rub gently over his mating gland, and it evokes a rumble from his chest.

“We've been through so much, all of us,” finally finding words that feel true to this moment. “And despite everything, we're still here. Still together. I think this is how it was always meant to be."

Your fingers trace the contours of Steve's neck, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse beneath your touch. Steve's eyes, deep pools of blue, search yours intently, the ever-growing storm of emotions swirling within them - hope, fear, longing, and something deeper, primal.

You can feel the bond between you and Bucky pulsing with encouragement and love, supporting you in this moment.

Time seems to slow as you lean in closer to Steve, your breath mingling with his. You nose down his neck, and he groans when you scent him. The smell of him is a mix of leather, pine, and something uniquely alpha – and all of it familiar. It fills your senses, making your head spin. Your omega instincts finally surge forward, finally feeling the safety you needed, recognizing your alpha, yearning to complete the bond that has been forming between you.

Steve's hands tighten on your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt. You can feel the slight tremor in his touch, a mix of trepidation and longing.

You can see the pulse beneath his skin, feel the heat radiating from the spot. You lock eyes with Steve again, asking the silent question. The moment stretches, taut as a bowstring.

Steve tilts his head to the side, offering his neck to you.

Your heart races at the gesture of trust and submission, more surety that he’s relinquishing the dark part that had taken over him. You brush your lips against his skin, feeling the rapid pulse beneath. Steve's breath hitches, and his hands tighten on your waist. Your tongue darts out, and you taste the salt of his skin.

"Omega," Steve implores. His scent intensifies, filling the air with pheromones that make your head spin.

Finally, your teeth sink into his flesh, claiming him. The taste of his blood floods your mouth, rich and coppery. Steve’s connection to you - that wall which had been only slowly thawing - suddenly melts away as you bonding yourself to him opens your soul to him. When he’d taken you by force, it had been a physical bond that you couldn’t deny. But an Omega claiming an Alpha in return? It wasn’t unheard of, but it was a ritual that signified a mutual decision of acknowledging only the deepest, purest connections, true partnership between Alpha and Omega.

A deep, guttural groan escapes his throat, reverberating through your body. As you release your bite, you lick the wound gently, soothing it. Steve wraps an arm around you, pulling you flush against his body, and you settle yourself into his lap.

Bucky's hands squeeze your hips, continuing to ground you as you're swept up in the intensity of the moment, but there’s also something primal you sense in the pressure now. You can feel his approval through your existing bond, supporting you as you form this new connection with Steve, but there’s another element there, too. It feels like hunger.

Steve's eyes meet yours, dark with desire. His other hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip. The air between you is electric, charged with anticipation. Slowly, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. It's soft at first, almost hesitant, but quickly deepens as you respond eagerly.

Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss intensifies. His tongue traces the seam of your lips, seeking entry, and you grant it willingly. The taste of him is intoxicating, familiar yet new all at once. A soft moan escapes you as his hands roam your body, igniting sparks wherever they touch. You can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing at your core, your clothing separating your sex from his. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate as you both give in to the intensity of the moment.

Suddenly, you feel Bucky's presence behind you more acutely. His chest presses against your back, his breath hot on your neck. "Omega," he growls, his voice low and husky with desire.

You break the kiss with Steve, turning your head to look at Bucky over your shoulder. His eyes are dark with lust, his pupils blown wide. Without hesitation, you reach for him, pulling him into a fierce kiss. Steve's hands continue to roam your body as you kiss Bucky, creating a sensory overload that has you moaning into Bucky's mouth.

“Let’s take her to bed, Buck,” Steve’s words are less of a suggestion and more of a command.

You break the intense kiss with Bucky, turning to face Steve. His eyes are filled with a primal hunger, his alpha instincts taking over. Without a word, he stands up from the chair, pulling you up with him.

Bucky falls into step with the other alpha, and they’re across the small cottage with you next to the bed in seconds.

Steve’s hands, Bucky’s hands, your hands - all three sets work to tug and strip of shirts and pants and undergarments - frenzied yet efficient, until you’re all three naked. Their touch is electrifying and immediately roaming your bare skin, igniting sparks wherever they go. The air is filled with heavy breathing and low growls as they begin to worship every inch of your body.

Steve picks you up effortlessly and lays you down on the bed before climbing on top of you. His mouth seeks out one of your breasts while his hand fondles the other one.

Bucky kneels beside the bed and takes one of your legs in his hand. He trails kisses up from your ankle all the way up to your thigh before finally reaching his destination - your core.

His tongue flicks out teasingly at first before delving deeper into your folds. You gasp at the sensation, arching into his mouth. The combination of their touches has you already on edge, but it's not long before Bucky's expert tongue brings you over that edge.

You cry out, one hand fisting the sheets and the other tangling in Steve’s hair as you come undone.

As you come down from your first orgasm, both alphas shift their positions. Steve moves up to capture your lips in a searing kiss, while Bucky replaces him at your breasts, lavishing them with attention.

Your body hums with pleasure, every nerve ending alive and tingling. You can feel the heat of their arousal pressing against you, their hard cocks at either hip, their scents mingling in the air - a heady, almost overwhelming combination.

"Alpha," you moan, not sure which one you're addressing, or if you mean both. Your hands roam over their muscled bodies, tracing scars and planes of hard muscle.

Steve breaks the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "Tell us what you want, omega," he growls, his voice low and commanding.

You whimper, overwhelmed by sensation and need. "I want... I want both of you," you manage to gasp.

“You have us, ‘mega,” Bucky assures you, murmuring the promise against your skin with the kisses and licks to your breasts, his vibranium hand squeezing the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

Steve shifts his position, moving between your legs. His eyes lock with yours, seeking permission. You nod, breath catching in anticipation. He enters you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. The stretch is exquisite, filling you completely. A low moan escapes your lips as he begins to move, setting a steady rhythm.

As Steve continues his slow, deep thrusts, Bucky moves up the bed, positioning himself near your head. His cock stands proud, hard and glistening with precum. You lick your lips in anticipation, your eyes meeting his with a look of hunger.

Bucky's metal hand cups the back of your head, cool against your heated skin, guiding you gently towards his length. You part your lips, taking him into your mouth with a moan of pleasure. The taste of him explodes on your tongue - salty, musky, and uniquely him.

You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock before taking him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you suck.

Bucky's metal hand applies gentle pressure on the back of your head, not pushing, but guiding. As you relax your throat to take him deeper as he nudges more and more insistently, he places his flesh hand over your neck, feeling himself fill you with his length.

"Fuck, Omega," he growls, his voice rough with pleasure. "Your mouth feels too good."

You moan around him, the vibrations making him shudder. Neither of your alpha super soldiers are in any kind of hurry. Their actions are deliberate, but it’s clear the only thing they both want in this moment is to be inside of you.

Your body is alive with sensation, caught between the two alphas as they pleasure you. Steve's thrusts grow more intense, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor. Fervor but not speed, and each thrust pushes you further onto Bucky's cock, creating a rhythm that has you moaning around him.

Steve's hands grip your hips tightly, sure to leave bruises, as he drives into you, and you want it.

"So tight, Omega," he groans against your sternum, his voice strained with pleasure. "You feel so good around me."

Bucky's metal hand threads through your hair, guiding your movements as you take him deeper into your throat. His flesh hand remains on your neck, feeling the bulge of his cock as it slides in and out. The dual sensations of being filled at both ends has you trembling with pleasure.

"That's it," Bucky encourages, his voice husky. "Take us, sweetheart.”

The praise sends a shiver down your spine, your inner omega preening at the approval of your alphas.

Both of them.

Yours.

The thought makes you whimper.

"Ready for my cum, Omega?" Bucky pants, his voice strained with pleasure.

You feel the first pulses as he throbs in your mouth, and you moan, blinking up at him, eyes watering but encouraging him to spill inside you.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he swears, and then his hips stutter and he groans as he begins to spill his release down your throat.

Your omega purrs in contentment as you swallow some of his seed, relishing in the taste of him. But before he finishes, Bucky pulls out of your mouth and pushes at Steve's shoulders to move quickly.

Steve understands immediately and pushes up with one hand, his other still gripping your hip. Then Bucky is fisting his cock, shooting the rest of his spend over your breasts, your chest heaving as your lungs greedily gulp in oxygen.

Bucky leans over you, his metal hand cupping your face as he kisses you deeply. You open your mouth to him eagerly, tongues tangling. His other hand moves to your breasts to rub the sticky mess of his cum over your tender flesh. He moans in what you can feel through the bond is satisfaction at the taste of himself on your lips and the primal marking of your chest. You indulge in the kiss you’re in desperate need for air, and push gently against him. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then pulls away and kneels above you to watch.

"You look so good taking his cock," Bucky remarks as Steve continues to thrust into you with precision.

Your pussy clenches at his words, and Steve groans in response.

“You should let her ride you, Steve,” Bucky continues. “She’s a glorious sight like that.”

Your heart stutters, and you look up at Bucky, only somewhat incredulously. And that satisfied curve of his lips, so familiar, makes your stomach rush with butterflies, and you chirp for him.

“Oh, that’s a sweet sound,” Steve exclaims in a rush, and before you can think another thought, another chirp bubbles up out of your chest, and you’re tumbling as in one fluid motion Steve flips your positions so he’s on his back and you’re above him, still impaled on his cock.

You suck in a breath at the feel of the new position. It causes his cock to hit new angles inside you. Your hands brace against his chest as you adjust, feeling the solid muscle beneath your palms. Steve's hands grip your hips, guiding you as you start to move.

Bucky is already languidly fisting his cock as he watches you, half-hard again, your ever-insatiable alpha with next to no refractory period due to the serum that enhanced his body in every way.

And now you have two of them.

You begin to roll your hips, finding a rhythm that has you both moaning. The new position allows you to control the depth and speed, and you revel in the power it gives you. Steve's eyes are dark with lust as he watches you move above him, his gaze roaming over your body.

Bucky moves behind you, his hands sliding up your back. You feel his lips on your shoulder, then your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. He presses his chest against your back as his hands come up to cup your breasts. He kneads the soft flesh, rolling your nipples between his fingers. The dual stimulation has you moaning, your movements becoming more urgent.

You lean back against Bucky's chest, your head falling onto his shoulder as you continue to ride Steve. The new angle allows Steve to thrust up into you deeper, hitting that spot inside you that makes you forget anything else on the face of the earth, and still it seems he’s in no rush to get to his release.

Bucky turns your head, demanding your lips for more kisses again, and you mold your lips to his. He strokes your tongue with his tongue, mimicking the way he had had his mouth on your other lips earlier. He’s always eager to kiss you until you can’t breathe, driving you to that light-headed pleasure once more.

You’re panting, your entire body trembling with need as Bucky breaks off the kiss and presses a hand to the small of your back, urging you forward. You know what he wants, and you readily comply, lowering yourself down onto Steve’s chest.

Bucky moves behind you, his hands spreading the round cheeks of your ass to expose your tightest hole. He presses the head of his cock against the puckered ring of muscle, eliciting a gasp from you as he starts to slowly push inside. He’s taken you like this before, but never with another cock in your cunt at the same time. You feel stretched in the most delicious, almost impossible ways. Bucky slowly fills you up, his cock sliding deeper and deeper into you until he is buried to the hilt. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size before starting to move.

He sets a slow pace at first, sliding in and out of you with long strokes that have you moaning between them. You can feel every inch of him rubbing against sensitive nerve endings inside you, driving your arousal higher and higher.

Steve had stilled his movements, in awe and happy to pause in order to watch with increasing lust and need in his eyes. Once he sees Bucky has settled into a rhythm, Steve adjusts to work in tandem with him, thrusting up into you again.

You can feel every inch of them inside you. Bucky picks up speed, but Steve maintains his earlier slow pace. Wanting him to let go, you set your mouth to the fresh bonding mark you gave him and suck insistently. He growls, and you get exactly what you want, as his hips snap faster and harder, both men pounding into you with a rhythm that has become almost primal.

"Alpha... alph-ah!" You cry out their names incoherently as the orgasm hits with full force. Your release crashes over you like a wave, making your body tremble with its intensity. But before it can fully ebb away, Bucky's hand slips between your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing it in tight circles that send another wave of pleasure through you. Your vision goes white as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, your back arching as your muscles simultaneously strain and revel in the ecstasy.

Steve follows soon after, giving one final thrust before he's filling you with his hot release. Bucky is right behind him, and fills you with another load.

As you catch your breath, Steve pulls out of you and lays back on the bed, spent. Bucky, still inside you, leans down to kiss your neck as he slowly pulls out as well. You shift so you’re only draped over half of Steve, pressed into his side, one leg bent up over his hip, and Bucky presses up behind you. You feel them drip out of you between your thighs, the mess trickling over Steve’s thigh and down onto the sheets, but no one seems to mind or care.

After a few minutes of basking in the afterglow, Steve sits up and looks between the two of you. “We should get cleaned up.”

You nod in agreement and Bucky chuckles before getting up as well. The three of you head to the bathroom together, sharing kisses and some heated touches as you clean each other off under the warm spray of a quick shower.

The alphas change the sheets while you towel your hair dry and brush your teeth.

You collapse onto the fresh linens, feeling utterly spent but deeply satisfied. Your body hums with residual pleasure as you settle into the middle of the bed. Both men come to join you on either side of the mattress, but before Steve can, you turn to him and put your arm out over the spot he is about to occupy.

“Wait!”

Steve tilts his head, a small frown taking over his face.

“Will you open the window?”

He arches an eyebrow.

“Please?” you give him the softest, most pleading eyes that you can.

He shakes his head, but then smiles and strides away to go open the front window, moving quickly to satisfy your request. Your chest warms, and you realize it’s not Steve’s willingness to do something you ask - he’s been a much more dutiful companion since you two escaped from Hydra - but it’s because it’s the first time you have seen him genuinely smile since all of you were back home in Brooklyn.

What’s more, as Steve returns to the bed and slides in next to you, your mind considers that this is the first night you will have shared the bed with Steve. You had slept on the same mattress for weeks - at first with you refusing to even get under the covers - but even last night, it was still a functional practice. Tonight, you want to feel his presence close by, the intimate sharing of a space while you’re both vulnerable in sleep, and you want it with him as much as you want it from Bucky.

Today transformed everything, and for the first time in months, you feel unquestionably safe.

You curl into his side, resting your head on his chest, and Bucky presses up against your back. His metal arm drapes over your waist, cool against your bare skin. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, and Steve trails his fingers back and forth in soothing patterns over your arm. The bonds between you and your alphas pulse with contentment.

You lie there in comfortable silence for a while, basking in the afterglow and the warmth of your alphas. Moonlight filters through the gauzy curtains, casting ethereal shadows that dance and sway with each gentle breeze. The antique clock on the dresser ticks steadily, marking the late hour.

The cool night air drifts in through the open window, carrying with it the scent of pine, earth, and wildflowers, and being held so warmly between your two alphas, you nearly drop off to sleep, when they start talking.

It’s Steve who speaks first, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "Do you really think this pack bond will work?"

You feel Bucky shift behind you, propping himself up on one elbow to look at Steve over your shoulder. "I do," he says firmly. "We've always been stronger together, Steve. This just makes it official."

You trace lazy patterns on Steve's chest as you consider their words.

"He's right," you murmur, your voice soft but sure. "We've always been meant for this, I think. Even before... everything." You pause, gathering your thoughts. "Back in Brooklyn, it always felt like we were more together. Something bigger than just friendship or traditional bonds."

Steve's hand finds yours on his chest, intertwining your fingers. "I felt it that, too," he admits quietly.

“Family,” you hum.

“A pack.”

"In the morning, we should start planning for the ritual," Bucky murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your back.

You nod sleepily, your eyes already heavy. "Mmm, good idea," you mumble.

Steve's chest rises and falls with a deep breath. "We'll need to find the right location," he says thoughtfully. "Somewhere with meaning for all of us."

Bucky hums in agreement. "And we'll need to gather the necessary items. The ceremonial blade, for one."

You're drifting off, lulled by their voices and the warmth of their bodies, but you manage to add, "Don't forget the full moon. Two weeks..."

Your words trail off as sleep claims you, nestled safely between your alphas. The last thing you're aware of is Steve pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and Bucky explaining some of the beliefs about the energy of a full moon and the significance of this coming full moon in particular.

Exhausted but also content for the first time in months, you sleep all the way through the night.

The sun is just beginning to peek over the horizon when you stir, consciousness slowly returning. You're enveloped in warmth, cocooned between two solid bodies. For a moment, you keep your eyes closed, savoring the peaceful feeling.

Bucky's metal arm is still draped over your waist, his chest pressed against your back. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, indicating he's still asleep. On your other side, Steve's hand rests on your hip, his body curled protectively around you. Their scents mingle in the air around you, a comforting cocoon of alpha pheromones that makes your omega purr with contentment.

You blink your eyes open, adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. The room is bathed in a golden glow, giving everything an almost dreamlike quality. For a brief moment, you wonder if this is all a dream - if you'll wake up back in a cold Hydra facility.

But then Steve shifts beside you, his hand tightening on your hip. His blue eyes flutter open, immediately finding yours. A soft smile curves his lips as he takes you in.

"Good morning, Omega," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

The sound sends a shiver down your spine. You return his smile, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. "Good morning, Alpha.

As you and Steve exchange soft morning greetings, a gentle "meow" breaks the quiet. Your eyes widen in delight, and Steve's head turns towards the sound. There, at the foot of the bed on Steve's side, a graceful white cat has just leapt up and landed with the lightest of touches. Her fur is pristine, almost glowing in the golden morning light filtering through the curtains.

The cat's sapphire blue eyes blink slowly at you both, her tail swishing gently behind her.

“Hi, sweet girl,” you coo at the feline who has been coming around the cottage more and more often the past few days. You stretch your arm out and beckon her to come closer, meowing at her.

She stretches languidly, arching her back and extending her paws, before padding softly up the bed. Her movements are deliberate and elegant, each step barely making an impression on the blankets.

The cat pauses near Steve's hip, tilting its head as if assessing the situation. Its whiskers twitch slightly, picking up the subtle changes in the air currents caused by your breathing. Then, with a soft chirp, she steps up onto Steve’s hip, and then she settles in the small space between you and Steve. You brgin to lavish her with head scratches and soft pets. Her purrs vibrate against your chest. Steve watches with a mix of amusement and wonder, his hand coming up to gently stroke her silky fur.

"I didn't know we were expecting a visitor," he murmurs, his voice still husky from sleep.

You smile, continuing to scratch behind the cat's ears. "She's been coming around more often lately. You’re usually up and out for a run when she drops in for her morning visit. I think she likes us."

The cat's purrs intensify as she receives attention from both of you. Her sapphire eyes close in contentment, her paws kneading gently against the blankets.

Behind you, Bucky stirs, his arm tightening around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck. "Mmm, too early for talking," he mumbles sleepily.

You chuckle softly at Bucky's sleepy grumbling. "We have a visitor, Buck," you say, your voice warm with amusement.

Bucky grunts and props himself up on one elbow, peering over your shoulder. His eyes widen slightly as he takes in the sight of the white cat nestled between you and Steve.

"Well, hello there," he says, his voice still rough with sleep. The cat opens one eye to regard him before closing it again, clearly unimpressed by the interruption to her petting session.

Bucky reaches over you to gently scratch under the cat's chin. She leans into his touch, ready to indulge more attention, her purrs intensifying. "Friendly little thing, aren't you?" he murmurs.

Steve laughs softly. "This,” he explains to Bucky, “is why our omega wanted a window left open overnight. Had to make sure our familiar intruder could come in. I think she's made herself quite at home.”

You nod, continuing to stroke the cat's soft fur. "She has. I've been thinking we should keep her.”

The cat stretches lazily, rolling onto her back to expose her fluffy white belly. Her paws knead the air as she basks in the attention from all three of you.

"Keep her?" Bucky asks, his voice soft.

You nod, a hopeful smile on your face. "If you both agree, of course. She seems to have chosen us already."

Steve's hand stills on the cat's fur as he considers. His eyes meet yours, then Bucky's, before returning to the contented feline between you. "It would be nice to have a pet," he muses. "Something normal, after everything."

Bucky hums in agreement. "Plus, cats are good for stress relief. And lord knows we could all use some of that."

The cat chooses that moment to roll back over and stretch, her paws reaching out to knead gently against the duvet. Her sapphire eyes blink slowly at Steve, as if sealing her approval of this arrangement.

Steve chuckles, running his hand along her sleek back. "I think that settles it. She's stays with us."

You beam, your heart swelling with happiness. "She needs a name," you say, scratching behind her ears.

Bucky props himself up on his elbow, his metal arm still draped over your waist. "How about Alpine?" he suggests.

The name feels right, and you nod. "Alpine. I love it."

Alpine purrs contentedly, seeming to approve of her new name. She stretches again, her white fur gleaming in the morning light, before curling up in a tight ball between you and Steve.

"I think she's made herself right at home," Steve says with a soft chuckle, his hand gently stroking Alpine's back.

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the domestic scene. It's such a stark contrast to where you were just weeks ago - trapped in a Hydra facility, uncertain of your future. Now, here you are, nestled between your two alphas, with a cat curled up beside you. It feels like a dream.

The room falls into a comfortable silence, broken only by Alpine's soft purrs and the gentle rustling of leaves outside the open window. The morning light grows stronger, casting a warm glow across the bed.

Bucky nuzzles into your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. "Breakfast?" he murmurs, his voice still husky with sleep.

“I thought I might go for a run first,” Steve says.

“You should,” you respond.

“I know we said meals together, but–”

You smile softly at Steve. "We'll wait for you to get back," you reassure him. "It's going to be important for all of us to have routines."

Steve's eyes soften with gratitude. He leans over, careful not to disturb Alpine, and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I won’t be long," he murmurs against your skin.

With careful movements, Steve extricates himself from the bed. Alpine mewls in protest at the disturbance but quickly settles back down, curling into the warm spot Steve left behind.

You curl back into Bucky's warmth. His metal arm tightens around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back.

"How are you feeling?" Bucky murmurs into your hair, his voice low and intimate.

You take a moment to consider Bucky's question, assessing your body and emotions. "I feel... good," you say softly, a hint of surprise in your voice. "For the first time in weeks, I feel safe. Whole again."

Bucky hums in approval, his metal fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hip. "I'm so glad, sweetheart."

You turn in his arms and snuggle closer to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck and inhaling his comforting scent. Alpine stretches and repositions herself against your back, her purrs a soothing vibration against your skin.

“I haven’t forgotten everything that has happened,” you explain, “but I don’t want to hold onto all of that forever. I think we have solid ground between all three of us to move forward.”

Bucky squeezes you tightly. “I think so, too.”

You pull your head back so you can see his face, your eyes searching his. "What about you, Buck? How are you feeling about all of this?"

His blue eyes are soft as they meet yours. "Honestly? I feel like a person again. I shut everything off until I finally saw your face yesterday."

You reach up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over his stubble. “We both needed each other.”

“Are you upset I didn’t say anything about the pack to you before?”

You only pause for a moment, looking for the right words. “No, before the incident, you were still researching. Yesterday, I think you wanted to assess the situation with Steve before you put it out there for either of us to consider.”

He smiles. “Always my smart omega.”

You chirp, and he kisses you.

The movement shifts Alpine again, but this, apparently, is the last she’s willing to suffer a disturbance, and she saunters away and hops up into a nearby windowsill where she settles into a loaf so she can soak up all the direct morning sunlight uninterrupted.

“I know I’m only going on gut instinct with Steve, but with my eyes wide open, I don’t feel like I’m wrong.”

You trace your fingers over his forehead, soothing his furrowed brow. “I think you can trust your gut. There’s something I didn’t tell you yesterday when it was still just us.”

“Oh?”

“I think I was waiting to see how you two would handle each other. But I found something…”

You slip out of his arms and roll out of the sheets. When your feet his the floor, you duck down next to the bed, lift the mattress slightly, and reach between the mattress and the boxspring, sliding your hand in until your fingers find and latch onto what you’re looking for. You stand back up and show Bucky.

“Why was there a pillowcase wedged under the mattress?” he asks.

You toss it to him, and he catches it easily. “Smell it.”

He cautiously takes a whiff, and then his head snaps back to you. “This is-”

“Yep.”

He takes a longer inhale of the soft fabric.

“It’s your pillowcase, Buck. He was regularly going on missions while we were at the first Hydra facility - not significantly long ones, usually only a day, once there was a two-day absence, but he was gone when you broke into the facility and they evacuated me away. He knew my heat was coming up. He went to our home in Brooklyn, and he brought something back that smelled like you, something small and innocuous that he could hide both from me and from Hydra. I didn’t realize it was there at first. Everything happened so quickly and I was in a pre-heat mess, then in heat. But once we were here and settled, I realized that as impossible as it should have been, there was a trace of your scent here. I found it while he was on one of his morning runs. He went to considerable trouble to go and bring me something that smelled like you.”

Bucky's eyes widen as he processes what you're telling him. He brings the pillowcase to his nose again, inhaling deeply. His scent mingles with the faint traces of yours and Steve's, creating a complex blend that speaks of home and pack.

"He did that. For you." Bucky's voice is soft, tinged with a mix of wonder and something like resolve.

You nod, settling back onto the bed beside him. "I think a part of him was fighting against the conditioning even then. He knew how much I needed you, how much having your scent nearby would comfort me. He was an alpha taking care of his omega."

Bucky is quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing the edges of the pillowcase. When he speaks again, his voice is thick with emotion. "That's our Steve. The one we knew before all this. He's still in there."

You crawl back up on the bed and lean against his chest, his arm coming around to hold you close. The weight of his metal arm is comforting, grounding. You both sit in contemplative silence for a few moments, the only sound in the room Alpine's soft purrs from her sunny perch.

"I refused to acknowledge it at first," you say softly. "But as the weeks wore on, there were little chips in the armor - his and mine - and I could see the small shifts. The Steve we knew is still there. He's fighting his way back to us."

Bucky presses a kiss to the top of your head. "And we'll be here to help him every step of the way."

You nod, feeling a renewed sense of hope blooming in your chest. The morning light continues to strengthen, filling the room with a warm glow. You can hear birds chirping outside, the world coming alive with the new day. It feels like a metaphor for your own situation - emerging from a long, dark night into the promise of sunlight and warmth again.

You and Bucky remain cuddled together in comfortable silence for a while, lost in your own thoughts. The morning light grows stronger, casting long shadows across the room. Alpine stretches lazily in her sunny spot on the windowsill, her white fur appears almost ethereal as she basks in the warmth.

The scent of dew-kissed grass and blooming flowers drifts in through the open window, carried on a gentle breeze that rustles the curtains. You can hear the distant calls of birds greeting the day, their songs a melodic backdrop to the peaceful morning.

As you lie there, your mind wanders to Steve, out on his morning run. You picture him jogging along the winding forest paths and country roads, his powerful strides eating up the miles. He’s been gone for almost an hour, and you know he should be returning soon based on the previous days as you’ve been in this cottage together.

“I think I want to go meet Steve on his way back and go for a walk with him. Do you mind?”

Bucky presses a kiss to your cheek. "Of course not, sweetheart. Go ahead. I'll start on breakfast for when you two get back. Nothing complicated," he says with a wink.

You smile gratefully, giving him a quick peck on the lips before sliding out of bed. As you dress in comfortable clothes suitable for a morning walk, you can hear Bucky moving around behind you, the soft rustling of sheets as he gets up.

As you're lacing up your shoes, Alpine hops down from her perch and winds herself around your ankles, meowing softly.

"Sorry, sweet girl," you coo, reaching down to scratch behind her ears. "You stay here with Bucky. I'll be back soon."

You give Bucky one last smile before heading out the door. The morning air is crisp and invigorating as you step outside, filled with the scents of pine, the aspen trees, and wildflowers that you have grown fond of here over the last week. Dew clings to the grass, sparkling in the early sunlight. You take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the fresh, clean scent, and step off the porch.

The forest around you is alive with the sounds of birds and small animals going about their morning routines. Sunlight filters through the canopy of leaves overhead, dappling the path before you with patches of golden light.

As you walk, you let your mind wander, reflecting on the events of the past few weeks. So much has changed in such a short time - and even more in the last twenty-four hours. You've gone from being a captive, wounded and betrayed, uncertain of your future, to being here in this peaceful place with both of your alphas. The thought brings a warmth to your chest.

You've been walking for about ten minutes when you catch Steve's scent on the breeze. Your heart quickens a little in anticipation. A moment later, you hear the steady rhythm of his footfalls approaching. As he rounds a bend in the path, his eyes lock onto yours and a slightly hesitant smile spreads across his face.

"Good morning," he says as he slows to a stop in front of you. He's slightly out of breath, a light sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. "This is a welcome surprise."

“I wanted to talk, just us.”

Steve's smile softens, a mix of gratitude and nervousness flickering across his features. "Of course," he says, gesturing to the path ahead. "Shall we?"

You nod, falling into step beside him as you continue down the winding forest trail. For a few moments, you walk in companionable silence, the only sounds the crunch of gravel beneath your feet and the melodic chirping of birds overhead.

"How was your run?" you ask, breaking the quiet.

"Good," Steve replies. "Helps clear my head." He pauses, then adds softly, "Gives me time to think about... everything."

You nod, understanding. "There's a lot to process."

Steve hums in agreement. "I keep expecting to wake up and find this has all been a dream. Or a nightmare, and that I'm back... there." His voice trails off. “Or that I’m back in Brooklyn and none of this had happened. But it has.”

Steve's fingers tentatively reach out to intertwine with yours, his grip firm but gentle. "I know I have a lot to make up for," he says softly, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. "I hurt you both so much."

"Steve," you say, tugging on his hand to make him stop and look at you.

He meets your gaze, his blue eyes filled with a mix of emotions - guilt, hope, and something deeper that makes your heart skip a beat.

"We've all been through hell," you continue. "What happened wasn't your fault. You were being controlled, manipulated. Yes we were hurt, even devastated. But the fact that you fought against it, that you're fighting your way back to us? That’s all I care about now, and I know Bucky feels the same.”

His blue eyes search yours, vulnerability clear in his gaze. "How can you forgive me so easily?"

"Because I know you, Steve Rogers.” Your bring your free hand up to cup his cheek. “I know your heart.”

Steve leans into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savors the contact. When he opens them again, they're shining with unshed tears.

"I don't deserve you," he whispers. "Either of you."

You shake your head. "That's not for you to decide. We choose you, Steve. We want you."

He takes a shaky breath, his hand coming up to cover yours on his cheek. "I want to be worthy of that choice."

"You already are," you assure him. "But I know it'll take time for you to believe that."

Steve nods, a look of determination settling over his features. "I'll spend every day trying to make it up to you both. To be the alpha you deserve."

"Just be you, Steve,” you whisper. You lean in and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“I feel like the weight of all this will never truly go away,” he confesses.

“The work of healing is hard, but you won’t do it alone.”

He groans your name, and you can feel the guilt masking as irritation.

“And I think we should get help,” you press. “And I think we should go back to Wakanda to get it.”

Steve turns away and starts pacing. You watch him for a moment, his agitation clear in the tense set of his shoulders. You know this suggestion isn't easy for him to hear, but you also know it's necessary.

"Alpha," you say gently, stepping into his path to halt his pacing. "Look at me, please."

It’s not like an alpha command, but you know the unique power an omega can invoke for an alpha to listen to their request.

"Wakanda?" Steve asks, his voice tinged with surprise and a hint of wariness. He stops pacing and turns back to face you. The turmoil in his eyes is evident. "Why Wakanda specifically?"

You take a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. "They have the most advanced technology and medical expertise in the world. If anyone can help us navigate the aftermath of what Hydra did, it's them. Plus," you add softly, "they've helped Bucky before. They understand the complexities of deprogramming and healing from that kind of trauma."

Steve's brow furrows as he considers your words. You can see the conflict playing out across his face - the desire to heal warring with his ingrained instinct to protect and isolate.

"I understand why you're suggesting this," Steve says slowly, his eyes meeting yours. "But I'm not sure I'm ready to face… everyone. To be around other people."

You step closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "We wouldn't have to see anyone we don't want to. Wakanda is a big place, and I'm sure T'Challa would respect our privacy. We could stay somewhere secluded, just the three of us, and only interact with the medical staff when necessary."

Steve's shoulders relax slightly at your words, but you can still see the tension in his jaw. "What about Bucky? Have you discussed this with him?"

You shake your head. "Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first. But I think he’ll agree it's a good idea. He knows better than anyone how helpful Wakanda can be for recovery."

Steve takes a deep breath and nods, processing for another moment.

"You're right," he says finally, his voice soft but resolute. "We can't – I can't do this alone. And Wakanda does have resources we couldn't find anywhere else."

You reach out and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "And a deep kinship you and Bucky established. That matters."

He nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It does," he agrees, squeezing your hand in return.

"There's something else I wanted to talk to you about," you say, your voice soft but steady.

Steve's brow furrows slightly, a mix of curiosity and concern crossing his features. "What is it?" he asks gently.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "I found the pillowcase," you say softly, watching his face carefully for his reaction.

Steve's eyes widen in recognition, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Oh," he breathes, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I wasn't sure if you'd noticed."

You step closer to him, your hand coming up to rest on his chest. "Why did you do it, Steve?"

He's quiet for a moment, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance. When he speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper. "Because even when I couldn't remember who I was, who you were to me... I knew I had to take care of my omega, and I knew you needed him."

“That, the clothes, the books, forcing me to accept my heat naturally so I didn’t experience a dry heat, mounting our risky but well-calculated escape… I think it speaks to more than being my alpha. You did them because you’re still you. I think it’s time for you to start believing that, too.”

His hand comes up to cover yours on his chest, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "I want to believe that," he says softly. "But sometimes it feels like I'm still fighting against the programming, like I could slip back at any moment."

You shake your head, your free hand coming up to cup his cheek. "You won't," you say with conviction. "You're stronger than that, Steve. And we won’t let you get lost. I think it’s another thing becoming a pack will help."

Steve leans into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savors the contact. When he opens them again, there's a new resolve in his gaze.

"You're right," Steve says, his voice growing stronger. "We're stronger together. And if becoming a pack will help us all heal and move forward, then that's what we need to do."

You smile up at him, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest at his words. "I'm glad you feel that way. I think it's the right step for all of us."

He nods, pulling you into a tight embrace. You melt into his arms, breathing in his comforting scent. For a moment, you just stand there, holding each other in the quiet of the forest.

You tilt your head back to look up at Steve, taking in the strong line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the intensity in his blue eyes. The sunlight catches in his hair, turning it to spun gold. Your heart quickens as his gaze drops to your lips, his pupils dilating slightly.

Before he claimed you as Captain Hydra, the Steve before - the Steve you knew in Brooklyn - had grown to be one of your closest friends. Next to Bucky, he was the person you trusted the most. There had been such a safety with him. There had never been a romantic twist or temptation, just a steadfast bond that formed.

But now, now that he's not the terrifying alpha who forcefully bonded you, but now that he's becoming Steve again and is your alpha? Your heart is starting to beat for him now, too.

Time seems to slow as Steve leans in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch is gentle, reverent, as if he's afraid you might disappear if he holds you too tightly. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, and his thumb gently traces the line of your cheekbone. The tenderness in his touch sends a shiver down your spine.

Your eyes flutter closed as Steve's lips meet yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. It's gentle at first, almost chaste, but as you respond, melting into him, the kiss deepens. Steve's arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against him as his tongue traces the seam of your lips, seeking entry.

You part your lips with a soft sigh, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair. The kiss grows more passionate, a slow burn igniting between you. Steve's scent envelops you, a heady mixture of pine, clean sweat, and something uniquely him that makes your omega purr with contentment.

When you finally break apart, you're both breathing heavily. Steve rests his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed as he savors the moment.

This feels like your first true kiss - the one that will matter for your future.

"We should head back," he says. "Bucky's probably wondering where we are."

You nod, taking his hand as you start walking back towards the cottage.

When the cottage comes into view, you see Bucky sitting on the porch steps, his metal arm glinting in the sunlight, and Alpine curled up next to him. He looks up as you approach, a mixture of relief and curiosity crossing his features.

"There you are," he says, standing up as you draw near. "I was starting to worry."

Steve gives him a reassuring smile. "Sorry, Buck. We’re good."

Bucky's eyes flick between you and Steve, taking in your joined hands and the lingering flush on your cheeks. A knowing smile tugs at the corner of Bucky's mouth. "I can see that," he says, his voice warm with affection. "Everything okay?"

You nod, squeezing Steve's hand. "Yes. Actually, we have something we'd like to discuss with you."

Bucky's eyebrows raise slightly, but he nods, gesturing towards the door. "Let's head inside then. We can talk over breakfast."

The three of you make your way into the cozy cottage. Alpine trails along as well. You note how quickly she has gravitated to Bucky, and you can’t help but grin. Breakfast is simple, but the three of you move together in the kitchen to quickly pull things together, then bring it all to the table and set in.

"So," Bucky says, his steel-blue eyes moving between you and Steve. "What do you want to discuss?"

You set down your piece of toast and swallow. “Wakanda.”

Bucky's eyes widen slightly, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth. "Wakanda?" he repeats, his voice a mix of surprise and curiosity.

Steve nods, and you reach out to place a reassuring hand on Bucky's arm. "We’ve just been talking about it, Buck. We think it might be good for us to go there for a while."

Bucky sets his fork down, his brow furrowing as he processes this information. "For treatment?" he asks softly, his eyes meeting Steve's.

You lean forward, your voice gentle but firm. "For all of us, Bucky. We all need time to heal, to adjust. And Wakanda has resources we can't find anywhere else."

Bucky's gaze shifts to you, his expression softening. "You're right about that," he admits. "The time I spent there, well, even in just two weeks there it helped more than the time I spent trying to fix things on my own the two years before that.”

Bucky is quiet for a moment, his eyes distant as he processes this information. You can almost see the gears turning in his head, weighing the pros and cons.

"It's a good idea," he says finally, his voice soft but certain. "Wakanda would also be an appropriate place to perform the pack rites and rituals. And..." he pauses, a small smile tugging at his lips, "I miss Shuri's jokes about my arm."

You and Steve both laugh. Steve was going to be your tougher sell, but you’re still relieved Bucky is sold on the plan. Having a plan is reassuring, and there are many more plans you all need to discuss this morning.

“Wakanda is perfect, actually. I’ll reach out to Shuri and see if they could even send one of the Dora Milaje to come escort you there and keep you safe until Steve and I follow and join you.”

“What?” you asked, not anticipating this suggestion at all.

Bucky looks at Steve. “We have loose ends to clip.”

Steve nods.

"Absolutely not!" you protest, your voice rising. "We're not splitting up. We just found each other again."

Steve reaches out, placing a calming hand on your arm. "It's just for a short time," he says softly. "We need to make sure there's no trail leading back to you, to us. Bucky and I can handle it quickly and efficiently."

You shake your head, feeling a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach. "No. We're stronger together. Isn't that what we all agreed on?"

Bucky leans forward, his eyes meeting yours. "Omega, we're trying to protect you. To protect our future together. If there's even a chance someone could track us down..."

You feel a chill run down your spine at the edge in Bucky's voice. You know exactly who he's talking about - the people responsible for what happened to Steve.

"I understand why you want to do this," you say, looking between them. "But I can't just sit safely in Wakanda while you two put yourselves in danger. We face it together."

Steve's jaw tightens. "No, Omega. Not this time. There’s no question about this - it's too dangerous."

You feel a surge of frustration and hurt at his words. "I'm not some useless and fragile thing that needs to be protected, Steve."

Bucky reaches out, taking your hand in his. "Omega, you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. This isn't about you being fragile. This is about Hydra, and we need to know you're safe while we take care of them."

You pull your hand away, standing up abruptly. "And what if something happens to you? What if you don't come back? I can't lose you again. Either of you."

Steve stands as well, moving around the table to pull you into his arms. You resist at first, but eventually melt into his embrace. "We will come back," he murmurs into your hair. "I promise you. We've been through too much to lose each other now."

You cling to him, breathing in his scent, trying to calm your racing heart. "I hate this," you whisper. "I hate feeling helpless."

Bucky comes up behind you, sandwiching you between him and Steve. His metal arm wraps around your waist, cool against your skin. "You're not helpless," he says softly. "You're our anchor. Our reason for coming back."

You turn your head to look at him, seeing the determination in his steel-blue eyes. "Promise me," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Promise me you'll both come back."

Bucky's eyes soften as he meets your gaze. "We promise," he says, his voice low and fervent. "We'll always come back to you."

Steve nods, his arms tightening around you. "Always," he echoes, his breath warm against your ear.

You feel a shiver run through you at their words, at the intensity in their eyes. The air around you seems to thicken, charged with an electric tension that makes your skin tingle.

Bucky leans in, his lips brushing against your neck. "Let us show you," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends heat pooling in your belly. "Let us prove our promise."

Steve's hand comes up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards him. His blue eyes are dark with desire as he captures your lips in a searing kiss. You melt into him, your heart yearning for this, even though you know they can’t guarantee their promises, only their intentions.

You need this.

The air grows thick with the scent of arousal as Steve's lips find your other side, trailing soft kisses along your jaw.

"Yes," you breathe, tilting your head to give them better access. "Show me."

In a fluid motion, Steve lifts you into his arms, carrying you towards the bedroom. Bucky follows close behind, his eyes dark with desire. As Steve gently lays you on the bed, Bucky's hands are already working at the buttons of your shirt.

"We've got you, Omega," Steve murmurs, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek. "We'll always come back to you."

Bucky's metal hand slides under your shirt, cool against your heated skin. "You're ours," he growls softly, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. "And we're yours. Always."

Your breath catches as their hands and mouths explore your body, peeling away layers of clothing. Steve's lips trail down your collarbone while Bucky's metal fingers dance along your inner thigh, sending shivers of pleasure through you.

"Please," you gasp, arching into their touch. "I need you both."

Steve pulls back, his eyes dark with desire as he meets your gaze. "We're here, Omega. We've got you."

Bucky's hand slides up to cup your face, turning you towards him for a deep, passionate kiss. You moan into his mouth as Steve's fingers find your most sensitive spots, teasing and stroking with expert precision.

Your body arches as waves of pleasure wash over you, Steve and Bucky's touches setting every nerve ending alight. Their scents mingle in the air - pine and metal, sweat and arousal - surrounding you in a cocoon of desire and comfort.

Bucky breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck as Steve moves lower, his mouth replacing his fingers. You cry out at the sensation, one hand tangling in Steve's hair while the other grips Bucky's metal arm.

"That's it, sweetheart," Bucky murmurs against your skin. "Let us take care of you."

Steve hums in agreement, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body. Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more contact.

Bucky's flesh hand finds your breast, kneading gently as his thumb brushes over your nipple. Steve tenderly kisses and licks your cunt, while Bucky’s mouth latches onto your other breast. Then, Bucky moves down the bed and spreads your legs wider to make room for both of your alpha super soldiers. He begins kissing up your inner thigh, and then they take turns giving you pleasure in your most intimate area, worshipping your sex until you’re dripping, writhing, and begging for more.

Steve moves to the head of the bed, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you. With gentle hands, Bucky flips you over, guiding you onto your hands and knees. You shiver in anticipation as you feel Bucky's strong hands grip your hips, positioning you. The cool air of the room kisses your heated skin, making you shiver with anticipation.

Bucky's metal hand trails down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. Steve cups your face tenderly, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

You gasp as Bucky slowly enters you from behind, stretching and filling you deliciously. Steve's hand tangles in your hair, gently guiding your mouth to his hardened length. You eagerly take him in, moaning around him as Bucky begins to move.

The room fills with the sounds of pleasure - skin against skin, breathless moans and whispered endearments. Bucky's thrusts are deep and measured, each one sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Steve's fingers massage your scalp as you work him with your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip.

"That's it, sweetheart," Bucky growls, his grip on your hips tightening. "You feel so good."

Steve's breath hitches as you take him deeper. "Perfect," he murmurs, his voice strained with pleasure. "So perfect for us."

"Are you ready for us, Omega?" Steve asks, his voice thick with need.

You nod eagerly, your body thrumming with desire. "Please," you breathe, looking up at Steve through your lashes. He dips down to take your lips in a brief, possessive kiss.

Your body trembles with anticipation as Steve pulls away from your mouth, his hand guiding you back into position. You moan around him, loving the feeling of being filled by both of your alpha super soldiers.

Bucky's thrusts become more urgent, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he picks up the pace. "You feel so good," he growls.

Steve's fingers dig into your hair as he begins to move faster in your mouth. You eagerly take him in, wanting to please both of them. The intensity of having them both inside you is almost overwhelming, but it's a the kind of overload that you need right now.

As they move together in tandem, you feel yourself reaching the edge. Then you're lost in a haze of pleasure with your release. All you can think about is how they fill you physically, and how they consume every inch of your soul now as well.

Bucky's thrusts become more erratic as he buries himself deep inside you one final time before finding his release. His grunts and groans mix with Steve's moans as he comes undone in your mouth.

Feeling the vibrations from their orgasms only heightens your own pleasure. Your walls clench around Bucky as waves of ecstasy pulse through your body.

The three of you collapse onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and racing hearts. Breathing heavily, Bucky pulls out and collapses next to you while Steve rests against the headboard.

You lay there for several moments, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow. Steve's hand gently strokes your hair while Bucky's metal arm drapes protectively across your waist. The room is quiet except for your collective breathing gradually slowing to a normal pace.

"I still don't like the idea of being separated," you murmur, breaking the silence.

Steve sighs softly, his fingers still carding through your hair. "We know, sweetheart.”

Bucky presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder. "It won't be for long. Just enough time for us to tie up loose ends and make sure no one can track us."

"I understand," you say softly, "but I still wish there was another way."

Steve leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "We'll be as quick as we can," he promises. "And we'll stay in regular contact."

Bucky nods in agreement. "You know we won't take any unnecessary risks. The goal is to get back to you as soon as possible."

You sigh, snuggling closer to both of them. "I know. I trust you both. It's just... after everything we've been through, the thought of being apart again is terrifying."

"We feel the same," Steve murmurs, his arm tightening around you. "But this is to protect our future. To make sure we can live without always looking over our shoulders."

Bucky's metal fingers trace soothing patterns on your skin. "You’re strong, Omega, this will be nothing compared to,” Bucky pauses, and you feel both alphas tense.

“Compared to what I put you through,” Steve finishes.

You turn to face Steve, cupping his cheek gently. "That wasn't you," you say firmly.

Steve's eyes are still haunted as he meets your gaze. "But I still did those things. I still hurt you."

Bucky reaches over, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder. "We've both done things we regret under Hydra's control. But we're free now."

You nod, pressing a soft kiss to Steve's lips. "And we're moving forward. Together."

Steve pulls you closer, burying his face in your hair. You can feel the tension slowly leaving his body as he breathes in your scent.

"We can't change the past, but we can shape the future," Bucky reminds him.

"You're right," Steve murmurs after a moment.

“I know, punk. You’re the one who told me that over and over and over. I’ll remind you as many times as you need, because that’s what you did for me.”

"Thank you," Steve says softly, his voice thick with emotion. "Both of you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

You snuggle closer to Steve, feeling Bucky press against your back. The warmth of their bodies and the mingling of your scents creates a cocoon of comfort and safety.

"You'll never have to find out," you murmur, pressing a kiss to Steve's chest.

Bucky hums in agreement, his metal arm draping over both you and Steve. "Till the end of the line, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Steve chuckles softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Omega,” his voice turns serious again, “you woke me up from the nightmare, helped me shed the specter of Captain Hydra; and yesterday you anchored me back to my true self again, Buck.”

Your heart both aches and soars, and you have to kiss him. When you break off, Bucky reaches for Steve’s head, and then he presses their foreheads together over your shoulder. It’s an intimate moment between all of you that you don't want to break, and so you don’t and neither do they.

You lie there in silence for a while, basking in the afterglow and the closeness of your alphas. Despite the lingering anxiety about the upcoming separation, you feel safe now. You feel loved now. You never want to leave this now.

“I’ll go,” you finally whisper. “But can it be tomorrow? For one more day, please let it be like this, here, just us.”

Steve and Bucky exchange a glance over your head, a silent conversation passing between them in an instant. After a moment, they both nod.

"Of course, Omega," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "We can have one more day here, just us."

Bucky's arm tightens around you, pulling you closer. "We'll make the most of it," he murmurs, his breath warm against your neck.

You feel a wave of relief wash over you. One more day of peace, of being together, before facing the challenges ahead. You snuggle deeper into their embrace, savoring the warmth and comfort of their bodies.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. Bucky buries his face in the crook of your neck, Steve’s hand moves from your hip up your side, and you get lost in them again.

go to the double epilogue: THE DAWN HAS COME

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Ah! I'm just! Final chapter finally getting to share it with you all! It's been such a long journey! Thank you for those who have been waiting patiently. I hope you're feeling all the things!

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[focusonkayjay]

Wildly Wealthy Koreans (3); inspired by Crazy Rich Asians

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: photographer/ filmmaker! jungkook, rich girl/ fashion designer! reader, established relationship, angst, fluff, potential smut

Series summary: When you invite your boyfriend, Jungkook, to accompany you to your brother's wedding in your hometown, Daegu, he’s overjoyed, eager to meet your family and experience a side of your life you’ve never shared with him. However, once he uncovers the truth about who you really are, he’s unable to grasp the full extent of your reality. The situation becomes even more complicated when a certain someone makes him feel profoundly unwelcome, leaving him to question not only your world, but also his place in it.

Disclaimer: This series is heavily inspired by the movie Crazy Rich Asians, with the storyline closely following the original film's plot. However, I wanted to reimagine it as a fanfiction, where Jungkook and OC take center stage as the main protagonists. While I’ve kept the core elements and themes from the movie, I’ve added my own touches here and there, such as altering certain character dynamics and incorporating a few original settings. Some scenes are directly inspired by the movie, and I’ve worked to recreate them in a way that it hopefully resonates with the fans of the movie. Hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 5.4k+

Chapter Warnings: high society vibes and events, jungkook is a simp.

A/N: this is inspired by the iconic tan hua blooming party that happens in the movie. "BY DAWNNNN THEY'LL BE GONEEEE." anyways, wishing jungkook all the luck because this is literally just the beginning. I can’t wait for you all to read the upcoming chapters. let me know your thoughts, and stay tuned !! 💖

part 3

As you and Jungkook stroll through the expansive premises of your sprawling home, he tries to focus on your words, your cheerful explanations about the house's history and quirks.

Yet, the interaction with your mother lingers in the back of his mind like an unwelcome shadow. The knot in his stomach tightens with each step as he wonders about the impending introductions to the rest of your family like your father, your brother, your grandmother, your cousins, your relatives.

What if they look at him with the same quiet judgment your mother had? What if their gazes hold the same piercing scrutiny, the same silent question of whether he’s truly worthy of you?

He swallows hard at the thought but masks his anxiety, instead focusing on the way your face lights up as you guide him around. You point out pieces of art, family heirlooms, and stories from your childhood, your voice warm and animated.

He tries to focus on you, your smile, your laugh, and the way your hand feels so steady in his. But the thoughts persist.

“Not going to introduce your lover boy to me?” A teasing voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts, breaking the quiet hum of your conversation.

Both of you turn towards the source of the voice, and a smile immediately spreads across your face when your eyes land on Taehyung and the stunning woman beside him, his fiancée and also your best friend, Miyeon.

“Tae…” you say warmly, letting go of Jungkook’s hand to approach your brother. Taehyung looks effortlessly suave in a luxurious maroon suit, its tailored fit and rich fabric oozing sophistication. The soft sheen of his black tie complements his polished look, giving him an air of effortless charm.

Beside him, Miyeon exudes grace in a long halter-neck gown of soft gold, the dress flowing elegantly around her with every step she takes. Her hair is swept back into an intricate bun, leaving a few loose strands to frame her delicate features. Together, they look like they’ve stepped out of the pages of a high-fashion editorial.

You greet them with warm hugs, the joy evident in your voice as you briefly chat animatedly. Meanwhile, Jungkook stands rooted in his spot, unsure of how to approach the pair. His nerves bubble up again, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t intimidated... not just by their presence but by the possibility of yet another round of judgment.

He shifts slightly, feeling his palms grow clammy as he debates whether to bow, introduce himself, or wait for you to take the lead.

“You think I’d bring my boyfriend all the way here and not introduce him to you?” you tease, raising an eyebrow at Taehyung. Then, glancing back at Jungkook, you offer him a small, reassuring smile before speaking. “Tae, this is Jungkook.”

You pause, gesturing towards the couple. “And Jungkook, this is my brother Taehyung and his fiancé and also one of my best friends, Miyeon.”

Jungkook steps forward cautiously, forcing his nerves to the side as he extends a hand towards Taehyung. He feels this is the most appropriate greeting in such a formal setting. Taehyung, however, bursts into laughter at Jungkook’s stiff posture.

“Man, quit the formals!” he exclaims, stepping past Jungkook’s outstretched hand and pulling him into a hearty hug. He pats Jungkook’s back firmly, laughing. “You’re practically part of the family now since you're my sister's boyfriend!” he beams.

Jungkook blinks, taken aback by the warmth and ease of the embrace. For a moment, it feels like all his earlier apprehensions and insecurities are swept away, replaced with a feeling of tentative belonging.

This wasn’t the greeting he had braced himself for. If anything, he had imagined your brother might be even tougher to impress than your mother. But he was wrong, completely and wonderfully wrong.

As Taehyung pulls back, a broad smile lights up his face. “Y/N’s told me all about you, man. I’m so glad to finally meet you.” His voice is full of sincerity, and Jungkook’s heart skips a beat at his words.

You’d spoken about him? To your brother? He hadn’t expected that, and the thought that you’d shared pieces of him with someone so important in your life fills him with a strange mixture of pride and disbelief.

For the first time since entering this house, he feels a flicker of confidence returning to him, and he can’t help but smile back at Taehyung, feeling a bit more at ease.

He finally turns his attention to the woman standing beside Taehyung, the soon-to-be bride. She radiates elegance and warmth, her soft gold halter-neck dress catching the light as she steps forward. With a gentle smile, she extends her hand to him, her demeanor welcoming and kind.

Jungkook immediately reaches out to shake her hand, his own movements less hesitant now after Taehyung’s reassuring gesture. Her grip is delicate but firm, and he finds himself smiling back at her easily.

“Thank you so much for coming.” Miyeon says, her voice carrying a warmth that instantly puts him at ease. Her eyes hold a genuine kindness that feels worlds apart from the cold, probing gaze of your mother.

Jungkook nods, his nerves settling just a little more. “Thank you for having me. It’s a pleasure to meet you... both of you.” he responds sincerely glancing at the couple, grateful for the way they make him feel so included.

Miyeon’s smile widens, and she exchanges a quick glance with Taehyung, who is already beaming at the interaction. “Y/N’s told us a lot about you... She basically wouldn't stop, ever since she got back.” she giggles, her tone holding an encouraging note, as if to subtly let him know he’s already made a good impression.

Jungkook can instantly sense the close bond you share with the couple... there’s an ease in the way you laugh with them, a familiarity in the way your eyes light up when they speak. It’s heartwarming, and knowing you had spoken about him to them fills his chest with a sense of belonging, a feeling he hadn’t dared to hope for earlier.

“Make sure you’re here for all the events before the wedding, man. It’s going to be so fun.” Taehyung says enthusiastically, his energy contagious. “And we should definitely hang out more around the city! I’ll show you all the spots that Y/n and I love going to”

Jungkook can’t help but let out a smile, the tension he’d carried ever since meeting your mother melting away entirely. He nods, his earlier apprehension replaced with genuine excitement. “I’d love that.” he replies, his voice steadier now.

Taehyung pats him on the back again, his grin wide and reassuring, and Miyeon gives him another warm smile. For the first time since he arrived, Jungkook feels like he might actually enjoy these following three weeks.

The heaviness that once lingered in his chest is long forgotten, replaced by the comfort of knowing there are people here who truly welcome him.

//

As the four of you finally step onto the huge lawn, the scene before you unfolds like something out of a timeless painting. The sprawling grounds are alive with elegance, the soft hum of a traditional korean song playing in the background along with polite conversation mingling with the crisp evening breeze.

Pristine white canopies dot the lawn, their chiffon drapery billowing gently in the wind, casting delicate shadows across the jade-green tablecloths beneath them.

Each table is a work of art, adorned with intricate porcelain tea sets painted with orchids, their vibrant purples and soft whites capturing the flower’s delicate beauty... a tribute to the event’s name, The Jade Orchid Tea Ceremony.

This ceremony is not just a gathering, it’s a tradition in your family that has stood the test of time. It’s a day your grandmother cherishes, designed to bring the entire family together along with many friends in a moment of unity and reflection.

The orchid, her favorite flower, symbolizes elegance, strength, and the fragile beauty of life... qualities she embodies and expects her family to honor. The atmosphere feels both intimate and monumental, steeped in meaning.

The air is fragrant with the delicate aromas of freshly brewed teas... jasmine, oolong, chrysanthemum, and a rare orchid blend that your grandmother herself oversees.

The attendants, dressed immaculately in white uniforms, glide effortlessly between guests, carrying silver trays laden with delicate tea cakes, miniature macarons, and neatly cut finger sandwiches.

Strings of fairy lights are woven artfully through the hedges, their twinkling reflections catching the faint glimmer of jade ornaments placed strategically around the space.

Jungkook walks beside you, his eyes flitting across the scene, taking in every detail... the grandeur, the meticulous precision, the understated opulence.

You catch the way his shoulders stiffen slightly, the overwhelming weight of the moment settling into him. “Wow.... This is... this is something else.” he mutters, his voice tinged with awe and just a hint of nerves.

You lean closer, your voice soft and reassuring. “This isn’t just a tea party. It’s a tradition. My grandmother's tradition. For her, it’s more than the tea... it’s about family, about friends, about unity, about legacy. She’s been hosting this for decades.” you explain.

Jungkook listens intently and as you stop talking, his ears are instantly catching the soft traditional korean song that's been playing in the background, carried gently by the breeze. The serene notes create an almost meditative atmosphere, mingling with the quiet chatter of the guests.

It’s a song Jungkook doesn’t recognize but feels the weight of... a melody that seems to carry history, steeped in the same elegance that the event exudes.

He glances around the gathering, trying to soak it all in, but he can’t help noticing the way a few pairs of eyes dart towards him, then to your intertwined hands, before turning away to whisper among themselves.

It’s subtle, but he feels it... a faint ripple of curiosity, perhaps judgment, passing through the crowd like an unspoken conversation.

Jungkook shifts slightly, his fingers tightening around yours. The warmth of your hand steadies him, even as the faint unease lingers in his chest. Are they wondering why he’s here? Judging the way he’s dressed? Or perhaps questioning his right to stand beside you in such a deeply rooted family tradition?

“Hey...” your voice breaks through his thoughts, soft but purposeful. You turn to look at him, your expression calm but full of understanding. “Ignore them. You belong here, Jungkook. With me.... So don't even bother paying any attention to them.”

He exhales quietly, nodding as his gaze meets yours. Your words settle something inside him, though the weight of the stares doesn’t entirely dissipate. Instead, he chooses to focus on you... your voice, your touch, the way you seem so effortlessly at ease amidst all of this.

“It’s just... a lot.” he admits in a hushed tone, his eyes darting briefly back to the crowd. You offer him a gentle smile, brushing your thumb across his knuckles. “It is. But we’ll get through it together.”

As the song swells in the background, Jungkook finds himself grounding in the moment... not in the whispers or the glances, but in the soft rhythm of your voice and the steady anchor of your hand in his.

As you continue walking, you finally spot your grandmother. At the center of the gathering, she's seated beneath the largest canopy. She exudes the quiet authority and grace of someone who has long been the anchor of this family.

Her ivory hanbok, accented with subtle jade embroidery, catches the light as she gestures elegantly to a guest beside her. Her silver hair is swept into a bun so flawless it seems to defy time itself.

Her sharp, observant eyes scan the crowd, taking in everything with a calm yet commanding presence. Despite her composed exterior, you know that today is her favorite day of the year... a day she has poured her heart into preserving.

Beside her, your dad is busy talking to a few men in suits. You wonder what the conversation is about, but you shake your head, bringing your focus back on Jungkook. "Come, let's meet my grandma." you say.

He doesn’t know what to expect from the interaction, but the unease lingers, gnawing at him. Even though Taehyung and Miyeon had managed to ease some of his nerves earlier, a deep-seated fear remains. Meeting your grandmother feels daunting enough, but when you casually gesture towards your father, Jungkook's anxiety spikes.

“And that’s my dad...” you say, motioning towards the man engrossed in conversation with a few people. “Hopefully, he’ll stop talking to them when I need to introduce you.” Your smile is lighthearted, but Jungkook’s heart sinks a little further.

Meeting two more significant family members at once feels overwhelming, but he knows there’s no way around it. Quietly, he follows you, his steps careful and uncertain.

As you approach your grandmother, her presence exudes a quiet elegance. You stop beside her, immediately catching her attention. Bowing respectfully, you greet her, and she takes your hands in hers with a warm, familiar grip.

“Y/N-ah, you’re here…” she says, her voice carrying the softness of years and wisdom. “Hello, Grammy.” you reply, your tone affectionate. “Everything looks so beautiful... as always.” You glance around, admiring the event she’s clearly poured her heart and soul into.

She chuckles softly, her hands tightening around yours. “You barely come to visit me, Y/N-ah. You know my days are numbered.” she says with a playful yet bittersweet complaint.

A frown tugs at your lips. “You’re going to live a very long life, Grammy.” you reassure her gently. “And I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to visit you more often.”

Her laughter is light, but her eyes soon shift behind you, landing on Jungkook, who’s standing awkwardly, unsure of where to place himself. The moment feels charged, and you realize it’s time for introductions.

“This is Jungkook, Grammy.” you say, a soft fondness lacing your voice. “Remember I told you I wanted you to meet someone special? This is him. We met in New York, and he’s my boyfriend.”

You place a comforting hand on Jungkook’s arm and gently bring him to your side. He nibbles on his lower lip, his nerves evident in the subtle tension of his posture. Once you finish speaking, Jungkook steps forward and gives her a respectful bow, hoping to make a good impression.

Before your grandmother can respond to Jungkook, a familiar voice interrupts.

“Y/N!” Your father’s voice calls out, pulling both of your gazes towards him. He’s approaching with an easy stride, a soft smile etched on his face. Jungkook immediately adjusts his posture, his shoulders squaring as he stands straighter beside you, his nerves suddenly heightened.

You smile warmly at your father. “Hi, Dad.” Then, with a playful tone, you tease. “Didn’t Grammy tell you there’s no work talk allowed at events like this?”

He lets out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “Not work, sweetheart. Just planning a golf session for next weekend.” he replies casually, his tone lighthearted.

You laugh softly, the teasing exchange easing some of the tension in the air. Then your father’s gaze shifts to Jungkook, his curiosity evident. “And who might this be?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Jungkook suddenly feels the full weight of two sets of eyes on him... your father’s sharp yet kind gaze and your grandmother’s intrigued expression. He swallows hard, his pulse quickening, but he doesn’t let his nervousness show.

Bowing respectfully, he introduces himself. “Hello, sir. My name is Jeon Jungkook.” he says, his voice polite but firm.

Your father studies him for a moment, his face unreadable, and Jungkook’s nerves threaten to surface again. But then, a broad smile spreads across your father’s face. “Ah, so you’re the one who’s captured my daughter’s heart all the way in New York.” he says, his tone playful but warm.

Jungkook blinks, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected reception. “And such a handsome face, too.” your grandmother finally chimes in with an amused grin, her sharp eyes twinkling as she gives Jungkook a once-over.

The heat rushes to Jungkook’s ears, turning them a shade of red so vivid it’s almost comical. He lowers his gaze for a moment, caught off guard by the lighthearted approval.

For a moment, he’s almost speechless. This is nothing like what he’d braced himself for. Where he had expected judgment or skepticism, he’s met with warmth and gentle teasing. The contrast between their welcome and your mother’s frosty demeanor feels striking, and the relief flooding his chest is palpable.

Your grandmother extends her hands, the delicate gesture prompting Jungkook to glance at you for reassurance. You give him a small, encouraging nod, and with a slight hesitation, he steps forward, bending down to her level.

For the first time, he gets a closer look at her... a face adorned with kindness, her gaze steady yet tender.

“Thank you for being there for our Y/N.” she says softly, her voice carrying a warmth that feels like a comforting embrace. “And thank you for coming today.”

Jungkook feels a lump form in his throat at her words. Her tone is so genuine, so welcoming, that it tugs at his emotions in a way he hadn’t expected. The world around him seems to quiet for a moment, and the air feels lighter.

A smile slowly spreads across his face as he nods, his voice steady despite the emotions bubbling inside. “I’ll always be there for her.” he affirms, his sincerity shining through. “And thank you for having me here. It’s an honor.”

Your grandmother smiles back, her eyes crinkling in delight as she gently pats his hand. “Make sure you have lots of fun in the days to come, okay? I’m sure Y/N has a lot to show you.” Your dad quips from beside her.

Jungkook stands back up straight, his gaze shifting to your father. The easy, genuine smile on his face is contagious, and Jungkook feels a sense of inclusion he hadn’t anticipated.

"We’re all so glad to have you here, Jungkook. These events are only the beginning... plenty of moments to enjoy and memories to make. Take it all in.” your father adds.

“I will.” he says, nodding, his own smile widening as the earlier tension dissipates completely.

You can’t help but smile as you watch the interaction unfold. There’s a softness in Jungkook’s expression now, the earlier tension in his shoulders melting away. Seeing him engage so naturally with your grandmother and your father fills you with a quiet relief.

You knew how nervous he’d been about meeting your family, especially after the interaction with your mother. But now, as he stands there with that gentle smile, looking at ease, you feel a surge of gratitude for how welcoming the rest of your family has been to him.

You step a little closer to Jungkook, your hand brushing against his arm in a subtle show of support. He glances at you briefly, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that says everything he doesn’t need to put into words.

“Looks like someone’s fitting right in.” you tease softly, your smile widening. Jungkook chuckles under his breath, the sound light and genuine. “It's going way better than I'd expected.” he admits quietly, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

And in that moment, you know he’s starting to feel like he belongs... not just in your life, but in the world you’ve invited him into.

//

The evening carries on, the lawn glowing softly under the amber lights strung across the trees. A gentle breeze wafts through, carrying the mingled scent of flowers and freshly brewed tea.

Jungkook is doing his best to enjoy the event, but his gaze keeps drifting back to you and, occasionally, your mother who stands by one of the tables. He notices how she eyes the two of you every now and then, her expression unreadable but heavy with something he can’t quite place.

He tries to brush it off, reminding himself that the rest of your family had been warm and welcoming. Still, the occasional icy glance from your mother leaves a harsh unease in his chest.

The tea ceremony itself goes beautifully, the delicate clinking of porcelain teacups harmonizing with the soft hum of conversation. You guide him around the crowd, introducing him to childhood friends, cousins, and relatives. Jungkook experiences a whirlwind of interactions, from genuinely sweet greetings to snobby little elites.

He quickly learns there are two distinct types of people here. Those who embrace him with genuine warmth and curiosity, and those who are impossibly preoccupied with their designer outfits, designer bags, carefully manicured appearances, and the weight of their family names. It’s not unexpected, but it’s exhausting nonetheless.

Eventually, the two of you part ways for a brief moment as you and Miyeon head off to the restroom. Jungkook, left on his own, finds himself standing near the buffet table when a familiar voice cuts through the chatter.

“So, how’s it going?” Yoongi asks casually, appearing beside him like a shadow and helping himself to a finger sandwich. Without waiting for a response, he bites into it and groans dramatically. “Fuck, that is so fucking delicious.” he mutters through a mouthful.

Jungkook can’t help but laugh lightly at Yoongi’s unfiltered commentary, though it quickly turns into a sigh. “I met her family...” he starts, keeping his voice low. “Her mom, brother, dad, grandma… the whole lineup.”

“And?” Yoongi prompts, already reaching for another sandwich.

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, his frustration barely contained. “Everyone was nice... like, really nice. Her brother, her grandma, even her dad. But…” he pauses, glancing around before lowering his voice further. “I think her mom hates the sight of me.”

Yoongi chews thoughtfully, leaning against the table with a raised brow. “Hates the sight of you? That’s a strong statement. Did she say something?”

“No.” Jungkook admits. “She doesn’t have to. It’s the way she looks at me. Like I’m…” He hesitates, the words catching in his throat. “Like I’m not good enough for her daughter.”

Yoongi takes another bite, nodding slowly. “Hmm, classic rich mom move. She’s probably just protective or has some weird standards. You’re not a legacy or some corporate heir... guess that’s what she’s used to.”

Jungkook frowns. “I know, but… I just-”

“You just want her to like you.” Yoongi finishes, smiling knowingly. Jungkook sighs again, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Yeah. I mean, I’m not perfect, but I’m trying. For Y/n... For her.”

Yoongi nods, placing a firm hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “You’re doing fine, man. Honestly, you can’t please everyone. Her dad and brother like you, her grandma seems to adore you as well, and most importantly, Y/n chose you and brought you here because she wanted to. Her mom? She’ll eventually come around. Or not. Either way, you’ll survive.”

Jungkook lets out a small laugh, the tension in his chest easing slightly. “Thanks, hyung.”

“Anytime. Now, stop sulking and grab one of these sandwiches before I eat them all.” Yoongi teases, shoving the plate closer.

Jungkook chuckles, finally picking one up. The simple moment feels like a breath of fresh air, grounding him in the midst of a night that had felt overwhelming until now.

Yoongi was right. For all the unease simmering in Jungkook's chest, one truth cuts through it all like a guiding star... you’re by his side. And for now, that’s enough.

The weight of the evening’s events lingers, a mix of warmth from the family members who embraced him and the quiet sting of your mother’s disapproval.

But in the larger scheme of things, it’s your unwavering presence that grounds him. Every time you looked at him tonight, every gentle touch or whispered reassurance... it all stitched him back together in ways he couldn’t articulate.

He watches the way you move through the crowd now, returning from the restroom with Miyeon. Your laughter carries softly through the air, and though you’re not directly looking at him, Jungkook knows... he feels... that you’ll turn to find him soon enough. It’s an unspoken understanding between you two, a gravitational pull that brings you together even in the most unfamiliar spaces.

“Man, you’ve got that dreamy look again.” Yoongi teases, snapping Jungkook out of his trance. “Relax, Romeo, she’s just ten steps away.”

Jungkook huffs a small laugh, shaking his head. “Shut up, hyung.” But there’s no bite to his words, only a quiet gratitude for Yoongi’s knack for lightening the mood.

Yoongi’s smirk lingers as he leans casually against the buffet table. “Seriously though, kid. You’re doing fine. Hell, better than fine. And trust me, I’ve seen guys crash and burn in these kinds of situations. But you? You’ve got something real with her. That counts for more than her mom’s icy stares.”

Jungkook hums thoughtfully, his fingers fiddling with the edge of his cuffs. He glances around, taking in the splendor of the event once more... it’s a world far different from his own. Yet, somehow, he doesn’t feel entirely out of place anymore.

“Thanks again, hyung.” he murmurs, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Don’t get all sentimental on me.” Yoongi side eyes, though his tone is warm. “Now go back to your girl before she starts thinking I’ve stolen you away again.”

Jungkook chuckles softly, straightening up and smoothing his jacket. As he makes his way towards you, his heart feels lighter, his steps steadier. Because for all the challenges tonight has thrown at him, Yoongi’s words echo in his mind... Y/n chose you. And that’s what matters.

And as your eyes meet his from across the room, a radiant smile blooming on your lips, Jungkook knows... Yoongi is right. For all that matters, you’re by his side. And that’s more than enough.

//

As the evening winds down and the last of the guests leave, you, Jungkook, and Yoongi stand near his car under the warm glow of the driveway lights. Yoongi helps Jungkook unload his luggage from the trunk. Turning to one of the guards stationed nearby, you kindly request. “Can you please take these up to my room?”

The guard nods, efficiently gathering the bags and heading towards the house. Jungkook murmurs a quick "Thank you." his voice polite but subdued. You catch his tired gaze and offer him a small, reassuring smile.

Yoongi stretches, letting out a low sigh as he looks at you. “Well, I’d say tonight went better than expected.” he quips, his tone light. “Thank you for having me, Y/n. It was an honor to spend an evening at The Kim Mansion.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head at his dramatics. “You’re always welcome, Yoongi.”

As you linger near the steps, you watch Jungkook walk Yoongi to his car, their figures illuminated by the soft glow of the driveway lights. “Thanks for today, hyung.” Jungkook says sincerely, his voice steady despite the weight of the day. “Drive safe.”

Yoongi nods, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Always.” he replies with a small smile. Just before the car starts moving, he lowers the window and quietly adds. “Don’t forget to take it easy, alright?”

Jungkook gives a faint nod, his lips curving into a grateful smile as Yoongi’s car disappears into the night, leaving you and him to make your way towards the front door. You hold his hand tightly, sensing his lingering unease.

But as you approach, you spot your mother standing by the entrance, her eyes fixed on the two of you. Jungkook instantly stiffens, his grip on your hand faltering slightly. His gaze drops to the ground, avoiding her piercing stare.

“Hi, Mama...” you greet her, your voice laced with exhaustion as the day’s events catch up with you. “How was the evening for you?”

She offers you a tight smile, her expression carefully neutral. “It was great, honey. Everything turned out well.” she says, her tone pleasant but impersonal.

Then, with a pointed look, she adds. “I’ve asked the guards to move your friend’s luggage to one of the guest rooms.”

You pause, your eyebrows knitting together in mild confusion. A soft, incredulous laugh escapes you as you shake your head. “Oh, no, Mama. Jungkook is staying with me... in my room. Plus, he’s my boyfriend... so, it should be fine.” you say firmly, your voice steady but polite.

Your mother’s smile falters just slightly, her composure slipping for the briefest moment. Before she can muster a response, you grip Jungkook’s hand a little tighter and step past her, your movements confident and deliberate. "Goodnight, Mama." you mumble, walking away.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way your mother's hands clench into fists at her sides, nor the way her jaw tightens as if she’s swallowing back words she desperately wants to say. Her disapproval hangs heavy in the air, but she doesn’t voice it, merely watching the two of you walk inside.

Once you’re safely inside the house and up the stairs, you turn to Jungkook and offer him a tired but genuine smile. “Don’t let her bother you.” you say softly. “She just has a hard time adjusting to new people.” you reason, even though you know that might not be the case.

He nods, his shoulders relaxing just a little, though the weight of the interaction still stays. But as you tug him gently towards your room, your warmth and unwavering confidence start to ease his worries, even if it's just a little.

//

Once you ensure all of Jungkook’s luggage is safely in your room, you close the door behind you with a quiet sigh. Jungkook stands in the middle of the space, his soft smile illuminated by the warm lighting. His presence feels like a balm after the chaos of the evening.

Without hesitation, you walk towards him, exhaustion evident in your every step. Like second nature, you fall into his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist. He holds you instantly, his embrace firm yet comforting, his touch grounding you.

“Thank you for coming here with me, Kook.” you murmur against his chest, your voice barely above a whisper. “And thank you for hanging in there throughout the evening. I know that must’ve been exhausting.”

Jungkook shakes his head gently, his hand coming up to smooth over your back. “It wasn’t so bad.” he replies, his voice soft but sincere. “Not when I had you by my side.”

He presses a fond kiss on the crown of your head, lingering for a moment as he inhales the familiar scent of your shampoo. The gesture is so tender, so him, that it brings a sense of calm you didn’t realize you needed.

You slowly pull away, though his arms remain securely wrapped around you, as if he’s reluctant to let go. Giving him a small smile, you lean forward and press your lips to his. The familiar warmth of his kiss washes over you, and you sigh softly, your arms looping around his neck to pull him even closer.

Jungkook didn’t realize how much he needed this until now. The kiss... gentle yet passionate, stirs something deep within him, a mix of emotions he can’t quite put into words. All he knows is that, in this moment, everything feels right.

When you finally pull away, your foreheads rest against each other, breaths mingling in the stillness of the room. “Well...” you start, your voice soft but teasing. “tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

His eyes remain closed, a small smile playing on his lips as he listens. “Tae and Miyeon want to hang out with you around the city.” you inform him, a hint of excitement in your tone.

He chuckles, the sound low and comforting. “Well, I can’t wait.” he replies, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze is tender as he studies your face, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture so affectionate it makes your heart flutter.

With the night finally winding down, the two of you change into something comfortable and climb into bed. The exhaustion of the day melts away as you settle into his arms, finding solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Moments later, sleep claims you both, the promise of tomorrow dancing in the air.

<- part 2 // part 4->

taglist: @mirinaeii @taetaecatboy @tsukiesimp @lovingkoalaface @taekrve @jaytheatiny @loverofannabeth @jaerisdiction @whoa-jo @parkinglot-nights @reneeblack6230

[ecoterrorist-katara]

meta list + blog nav

turns out most of my metas are just me being salty about the way Bryan and Mike wrote Katara...more news at 11...

Katara’s parentification

the tragedy of Katara’s parentification & (context: parentified children as maladjusted children)

Katara’s crush on Jet

Toph brings out Katara’s inner child & Toph and Suki as people Katara didn't have to take care of

Katara’s post-ATLA arc

Katara didn’t want a quiet life after the war

Katara was a role model and her post-ATLA arc is a failure in representation

Katara being the Chief of the SWT wouldn't conflict with LOK's plot or her relationship

Katara would’ve been an amazing diplomat

Why Katara’s specific healer career didn’t fit her character

bloodbending & why Katara banning it could be in character in a sad way

Zutara & Zutara discourse

Zutara, romance novels, & the female gaze

“Zutara is a self-insert ship” is not a burn, it’s just misogyny

Is Zutara colonizer x colonized: my serious take, my less serious take

the crystal catacombs & how Katara sees Zuko’s pain

Zutara's two distinct ship dynamics

Why I think the way Ka/taang is written is male gaze-y

(KA is just one of those "bitch eating crackers" ships for me...block the #anti kataang tag if you don't want to see it)

Ka/taang: friends-to-lovers or the friend zone?

How Ka/taang is written to be one-sided

Aang’s not a “feminist icon” because the only stereotypically masculine part of his arc is his romance

Misc. character stuff (not just ATLA)

Aang's nuances beyond "sunshine boy"

Rethinking Hama's storyline + some thoughts on the symbolism of bloodbending

Some thoughts on Hermione being autistic coded & her flaws

Blog housekeeping/tags navigation under the cut

Tag Navigation

asks are tagged #can i ask you a question (yeah that's a TSwift ref even though there's minimal Tayposting on this blog); all my metas are tagged #my meta; Zutara fic recs are tagged #zutara fic recs. #zutara and other ship tags (e.g. #azutara) usually contain art, misc ship things, and metas

frequently used salty tags include #anti kataang, #anti bryke, and #katara deserved better

Original posts that involve analysis of Harry Potter are tagged #ref: hp for blocking purposes. I don’t financially support JKR or her harmful rhetoric & actions against trans people, but I choose to engage with parts of the HP fandom that reject her views. In the HP context, I am most likely to talk about #hermione granger. I like Dramione, but I also like Ron quite a lot. I'm very into Wolfstar.

Fundraisers

I post fundraisers that have been verified by third parties. Unfortunately I don't have the bandwidth to verify fundraisers myself.

Fandom Housekeeping

I don't make callout posts of specific users, even if I decide to block them myself, so please don’t use my ask box for that purpose!

[peachiejeongin]

Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice! | Han Jisung

Synopsis: 30 years ago, you agreed to marry some sort of demonic, yet incredibly handsome creature in order to save the spiritual family whom haunted your attic; when the former was banished back to the afterlife, you figured you would never see him again. little did you know, an unlikely yet realistic relationship between the two of you would spark as he became the key in a journey to save your daughter...

Pairing: Beetlejuice!Han X fem!reader (reader resembles Lydia Deetz from 'Beetlejuice')

Genre: Dark Comedy AU, Fluff Towards the End

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: MAJOR BEETLEJUICE 2 SPOILERS AHEAD (The plot is edited at some points), Swearing, Mentions of Death, some gore depictions, mentions of a poor mother-daughter dynamic at some points, coerced marriage (sort of?), I turned Beetlejuice into a loverboy, NOT proofread

Notice: Hello, my loves! I have recently watched 'Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!' and it gave me the inspiration for this fan fiction! Obviously, multiple aspects of the original plot have been changed to fit the description of this story, such as the year the original tale takes place changing by a few years, additional dialogue, and a complete revamp of the dynamic between "Beetlejuice" (Han) and "Lydia" (Y/N), which I do apologize for. I would also like to put forth this statement: I do NOT own the rights to 'Beetlejuice,' nor any of its characters! I only hold the copyright to the scenes I create! Without further ado, enjoy the story! :)

"I can't believe I'm doing this," you whisper with pure dread and anxiety coating your voice as you stood in the attic of your old home. The model of your town constructed by the married couple that had lived there prior seemed to tremble along with your hands. 'I have to. It's my only choice,' you mouthed to nobody in particular; truly, you were correct. If you had another option, you would resort to it rather than being in the stance you were currently.

However, your daughter's life was at stake, and this was the only way you knew how to save her.

You thought Astrid was going on a normal date; she had just met a boy not even a couple of blocks away from your old family home. His name was Jeongin, and he seemed like a typical neighborhood boy when you dropped your daughter off; he was sweet, shy, and homebody-ish. You had only just learned the truth because of your close friend; she came over to prep your family home for marketing following your father's death and unknowingly revealed the boy's true intentions.

The address in which you had dropped Astrid off, 125 Jefferson Street to be specific, had infamously become known as the "Murder House." The young son who had resided in the home two and a half decades prior had slaughtered his parents in cold blood and evaded police for hours on end in the treehouse constructed in his backyard. When the cops had finally caught up to him, he slipped in attempts to escape, falling on the hard ground several feet below and snapping his neck almost instantly. The young boy's name?

Jeongin. The same Jeongin in which your daughter was currently, "on a date," with.

He was, conclusively, a ghost, only being visible to you due to your spiritual mediation abilities. It all made sense now; why the street-goers and tricker-treaters had glanced at you and Astrid strangely when Astrid was dropped off, why Jeongin refused to let you come inside, and why he took a sudden keen interest in Astrid after only knowing her for three days.

Trouble was brewing.

Yet, Jeongin had failed to recollect that you had possessed your spiritual abilities for decades, which had initially allowed you to visualize the being you were attempting to summon. You remembered 1994's events all too well, from the moment you had discovered the ghostly couple in your attic, to meeting the demon that called himself, 'Beetlejuice,' although his real name was Han, who would proceed to give your family hell for the next several days, to the coercion he placed upon you to marry him if he helped you save the couple from an exorcism.

After the latter event had come to a halt after a situation involving a sandworm swallowing Han whole, you believed you were rid of the demonic soul; however, Han had been making himself more and more present in your life lately. You saw him everywhere, whether it was on the set of your reality ghost hunting show, outside of your house, even lurking around your father's gravesite. You did not want to summon him and tried to search the inner macamations of your mind for a way to help your daughter that did not involve him.

Yet, there was a part of you deep inside that knew Han would be the only reasonable solution to the problem at hand; hell, you could even go as far as to say the same part of you wanted Han to come back. Sure, he was batshit crazy, for lack of a better term, but you could not deny that he was the best looking demon you had ever laid your eyes upon. Perhaps it was that same part of you that felt bummed that the marriage between the two of you never truly consemated, and maybe it now thought that this could be the second chance for the both of you.

You pushed those thoughts aside, quickly refocusing on rescuing Astrid, the more important issue at stake. You took another deep breath, closing your eyes tightly before muttering three words that would once again change the course of your life.

"Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!"

On cue, the replica of the small down began to crack straight down the middle; buildings and model objects fell in the split, never to be seen again. The star of the show slowly rose from the ground, illuminated by shades of turquoise and lime-green lighting. He looked exactly the same as he did thirty years ago, with longer, shaggy green hair that framed his pale white skin; his eyes were encircled by pure blackness, and what looked like patches of moss were ever so present on the sides of his sharp jawline. He still wore the black and white pinstriped suit that was loose around his thin waist. He naturally looked abnormal, creepy even; of course he did, he was dead! Yet, you thought he still looked abnormally handsome, even after all of these years. Your eyes widened in awe as he threw up his hands in a jazz-like motion.

"The Juice is loose!" Han screamed in excitement. He vanished from sight, only to reappear behind you and put his hands on your shoulders, slightly startling you.

"Hi, Doll," he smiled, his pale squirrel cheeks ever so prominent. "How ya been? It's been a long time. You haven't called, so what's up with-" you cut off Han's ramble by shoving a book titled, 'Handbook for the Recently Deceased,' in his face; you had recently acquired it from the "Murder House" during your futile first attempt at saving Astrid.

"I need you to tell me what this means!" you frantically commanded as Han snatched the book from your hands. He pulled a small magnifying glass from seemingly out of nowhere as he analyzed the line you were inherently motioning to with your pointer finger.

"Let's take a look, shall we?" he inquired, leaning closer to the book in order to read the section. He skimmed over the line before widening his eyes and grimacing. "To make a long story short, your daughter is screwed." Your eyes widened as he spoke, mouth slightly agaping in sorrow. "Yeah, looks like she decided to trade lives with the boy. He gets to come back, while she's stuck on the other side permanently. One-way ticket on the Soul Train." Han ended the explanation by tugging his arm downwards, as if he were pulling on a train whistle. You shook your head at him in disbelief.

"Soul train?" you repeated in a murmur.

"That's right," Han instantly responded. "Last stop: The Great Beyond!" 'The Great Beyond,' he was referring to essentially translated to eternity, that being either Heaven or Hell. Han looked at you before continuing to ramble. "Y'know, she really should have been our daughter. I would have been a great father if you had taken me up on my offer and-" You sighed in frustration.

"Han, that doesn't matter right now!" you snapped. "What does matter is the fact that Astrid can't get on that train!" You lunged forward, grasping the front of Han's shirt in a desperate attempt to plead for his help. "You've gotta get me in there so I can get her out!" Han gripped onto your wrists, slowly lowering them as he spoke.

"Well, I can get you in, but it's going to take a quid pro quo." You rolled your eyes at his response.

"Of course there is," you groaned. "What do you want?"

"Well," he began by scratching the nape of his neck. "I've got this ex-wife, and she's kind of a whack-job. First of all, we are THROUGH," he emphasized as if you would outrage at the fact of him having an unmentioned spouse; you did not feel anger, though. After all, the two of you were not ever married nor officially even together, yet you did feel a bit confused at the fact of Han previously being committed. "She's kind of clingy, and if I could just keep her away from me somehow-"

"You want me to marry you, I presume?" you moved your hands in a 'get-on-with-it' motion as Han tilted his head to the right a bit whilst raising his eyebrows.

"I thought you would never ask!" A smile swiftly plastered onto his face as he shuffled his feet like a child. "Finally realizing how things were supposed to be, aye?" he teased, managing to reignite the same fire in your heart from thirty years ago.

"Whatever," you dismissed his apparent flirting, trying your best to conceal a prying smile. "How do I know you're going to keep your word? That you aren't using me for your own gain?"

"Sweetheart," Han dragged out the word, sounding sarcastically offended. "What kind of person do you think I am?"

"You aren't a person, you're a demon."

"Fair point," Han commented. "I swear on my dead mother's soul," he promised, moving his hands in a Catholic cross symbol. Suddenly, he burst into flames, which made you contemplate if it was a binding of his word or a sign that he was a flat out liar. Nevertheless, you agreed to his conditions, with part of it being out of concern for your daughter and the other part stemming from repressed feelings resurfacing.

"Okay, fine! I will marry you if you help save my daughter!" you felt a hint of fear, but also a sense of relief finally being able to solidify the marriage that failed to become so many years ago. Han smirked, unrolling a marriage contract that he had materialized, similar to how he had done the magnifying glass.

"I'm going to need that in writing." Han made a grab at your hand. "Give me that," he sing-song demanded as he pricked your pointer finger on an unusually sharp quill pen. You screeched in protest as he used the pen to forge your signature onto the contract, throwing it down as swiftly as he made it appear. He exhaled and cusped your cheeks, pouting adorably. "I am going to make you so happy!"

"Jesus!" you exclaimed, clutching onto your throbbing, injured finger. "What's the plan on getting in?" Han smirked, eyeing the wall behind you. You looked behind you, seeing where Han had now appeared drawing a chalk outline of an explosive on the grey brick wall; you still felt his hands caressing your cheeks, however, yet as soon as you turned back around, Han had vanished, his only form now being that of the one sketching the outline. You whipped your head back around and made your way over to Han's current position. You looked at him in everfound confusion, contrasting to dopey grin he had upon his face.

"Well, you can't exactly go in through the front door!" Han responded to your perplexation; he did not alot time for a response, instead lighting a spawned match and placing it near the chalked fuse. It lit instantaneously, as if it were a real explosive. As the spark neared the wall, you instinctively clutched to Han's forearm, eliciting a sly smirk from the taller. The wall detonated in a flash, allowing you to walk through to the other side.

Quite literally.

The first thing you were met with was a shroud of shrinkers gasping, eyeing you both with uncertainty.

"You never saw us," Han commanded the shrinkers, the demand sounding more like a factual statement. "¿Comprende?" You figured the reason for the command had something to do with the, "whackjob," ex-wife Han had mentioned. A short tap on Han's shoulder turned him around at the speed of light. "Bob!" He addressed the shrinker, who was notably disguised as Han himself. "You and the boys stand guard. Nobody gets through." Bob nodded as Han snapped his fingers, causing an entrance on the other side of the room to open up.

"Let's go, Honey," he growled to you as he grabbed your hand and led you to the opening. The pet name sent sparks through your body, but you persisted onwards instead of acknowledging it. Before you knew it, you were venturing down twisted hallways, nearly falling down illusive corridors, and making one too many wrong turns at times.

Yet, you never let go of Han's hand during the entire journey.

It was not long before the afterlife police, as you decided to refer to them, had discovered that a living being had illegally crossed into the afterlife, prompting an automated voice to blare, " Warning: 6-9-9 Violation," multiple times over. Furthermore, you had lost count on how many times you and Han had to maneuver your way into tight corridors or plainly defy the laws pf physics to conceal yourselves. That is exactly how you ended up, quite literally, on the ceiling. You only dropped down once the crowd of cops had made their rounds, calling, "All clear!"

"We're like Bonnie and Clyde, you and I," Han remarked as he dusted off his suit and retook hold of your hand. "Without the bullet holes, of course." You nodded your head in agitation, feeling a bit irritated at the circumstance; after all, you still wanted your daughter back.

"Do you even know where we're going?" you motioned to the hallway in front of you, allowing for Han to take the lead once more.

"You go right down this hallway, take three rights, through the ninth door, and right to the Soul Train!" Han once again made the whistle-pulling movement before letting go of your hand; the only thing was he was going in the opposite direction of what he had just described.

"And where are you going?!" you interrobanged, crossing your arms towards the demon.

"I have to go to the little boy's room first," he replied casually, making your face scrunch up in grotesque. He could detect your nervousness, so he clasped a hand onto your shoulder. "We'll get Astrid back, don't worry. I promise on Bob's soul." This time, Han did not catch on fire, allowing you to conclude that the earlier circumstance had indeed been a lie. Yet, the honesty he now possessed ignited a passionate fire within your heart; you sensed the care he felt for Astrid, and it was just as strong as the amount in which you possessed.

You nodded in response, moving your hand to hold the one currently placed on your shoulder. You heard footsteps coming down the hallway, so you quickly scurried off in opposite directions assuming that it was the cops.

Little did you know how wrong you were...

---

Neon lights illuminated the air as you cascaded down a flight of stairs. There were multiple souls near the train tracks, dancing a never-ending choreographing, acting as if they were alive once more. Yet, past all of those energetic souls, you spotted a glum, frightened girl being hoisted to the Soul Train against her better judgement.

"ASTRID!" you screamed out, your callings drowned by the lively music that was blasting. You watched against your will as your daughter was thrown into the train, instantly becoming swallowed into a crowd of party-goers now making their respective ventures onto the locomotive. You rushed down the steps as fast as your legs would let you and pushed through the crowd of dancers filling the train.

"Astrid!" you called once again, only this time she heard your desperate cries and made her way towards you. You gripped onto her hand firmly and pulled her off of the Soul Train just in time as the doors closed and the train made its departure for The Great Beyond. You engulfed Astrid in a tight bear hug, holding onto her for dear life; the sweet moment was short-lived, however, as the afterlife police began to surround the area, slowly enclosing on you and Astrid.

You looked around, hoping to find some sort of escape as Astrid trembled in your arms. You pointed to a door with a red neon sign above it reading, "Emergency Exit." You and Astrid made your way to the door, Astrid holding up the skirt of her Halloween costume so that it would not slow her down.

"By the way," she began breathlessly. "I saw dad!" Your face lit up in delight; the scenario revolving around your ex-husband's departure to the afterlife had been shrouded in mystery. Years ago, he had went on an expedition in the Amazon River; several days afterwards, they could not find his body. You had tried to reach out to him several times, but you were never able to, and you never knew the reason as to why. Hearing that Astrid had seen him put all of your worries to rest.

However, you barely had time to react to her statement as you pushed the door open. Instead of your feet making their next steps out of the afterlife, they began freefalling and landed in a pile of sand. You looked around at your surroundings, and you found yourself in a desert-esque wasteland. The only objects in sight besides sand granules were weirdly shaped rock carvings.

"Where are we?" Astrid worriedly asked as she looked frantically at the sight.

"I don't know!" you replied with just as much worry, if not more. Suddenly, Astrid tapped your shoulder and pointed towards a nearby planet.

"Look! That's Saturn! So we must be on one of its moons!" she shook her head in disbelief. "I swear, the afterlife is so random!" You were not able to formulate a response before the sand arounds you began to shift; a puff of tan dust appeared suddenly, and you and Astrid found yourselves faced with a black and white striped monstronsity arising from the depths of the wasteland. It had beady red eyes that were glaring hungrily at you both.

"Sandworm!" you instantly remembered the creature, both from your multiple paranormal books and from the events that transpired so long ago. You grabbed Astrid's hand and ran at the speed of light across the deserted wasteland. The sandworm was about to catch up to you both when you heard a familiar voice:

"Take my hand!" Mirroring the statement, a hand dropped down and swiftly pulled Astrid up onto a ledge. The sandworm had began to rear its second ugly head as the hand reached back down to grab you; the mystery being pulled you up onto the surface as well, shutting the door harshly behind you three before the sandworm had a chance to strike. It was here in which you finally came into contact with the face that belonged to the limb:

Astrid's father.

He looked much different than you remembered, naturally. His skin was a seafoam green shade, most likely resulting from the waterlogging of his body. He had sores all over his body, exposing parts of his muscle from the forehead down. Finally, the most humorous feature, he had tiny blue pirhannas nibling on every sector of his body.

The three of you spoke for a long time over respective cups of coffee. He had complimented Astrid's Halloween costume; she was dressed as Marie Curie after she had been poisoned by radiation. Furthermore, he commented how he was always watching over you guys, although neither of you were able to visualize him. He ended the conversation with a hug before the automated voice sounded another warning about the 6-9-9 violation.

"We've got to get back to Winter River," you stated as your body lurched up, ready to take action.

"We can't leave until Astrid gets her life back," your widower replied, standing up from his chair. "Follow me." The three of you sped for quite sometime until you had reached the ticket booth. Here, you saw Jeongin, smirking deviously in your direction with a voucher in hand, no doubt a passport to venture back into the living world.

"Don't stamp that passport!" Astrid's father yelled out in desperation, but the operator at the ticket window had already done the unthinkable.

"You're too late," Jeongin smugly commented as he waited for his passport to be returned. Jeongin was right; time had ran out.

Or so you thought.

"I think it was Doestoevsky who said," a moderate voice began as the "operator" slid Jeongin back his passport. Jeongin's sly grin slowly faded as he read the stamp marking:

Shit Out of Luck.

The operator lifted his head up to reveal a pale, squirrel like face with messy green hair entracing the sides.

"Later, fucker!" Han's hand gripped onto a lever beside him as Jeongin glanced up at him with worry. Before he could protest, Han's hand had yanked the lever down, opening up a trap-door into a fiery inferno. Jeongin fell down into eternal torture, never to cause harm to anyone again.

"You don't mess with the daughter of the love of my afterlife!" Han screamed into the entrance to Hell. You only caught a glimpse of his words, but they still fluttered your heart, nevertheless.

Before you knew it, Han was standing right beside you, Astrid, and Astrid's father.

"I've got it from here, big guy," Han winked at Astrid's father, causing him to mumble a quick, 'I love you,' to Astrid before speeding off.

"This way, follow me!" Han led the two of you back down the same twisting corridors you had traveled earlier in the venture until you reached a room with dark blue walls and a ladder in the dead center. "This is as far as I go for now," he commented, a look of regret replacing the one of smugness that was usually present

"Mom, is this-"

"Beetlejuice? The one and only, Honey!" Han interupted Astrid's inquiry, holding out a ghostly hand to shake. "But you can call me Han. Or dad if you'd prefer." You waved your hand across your neck in a, 'stop-talking,' motion, causing Han to clear his throat. "Well, carry on then!" He held steadily onto the ladder, helping Astrid climb up with you prepared to follow.

"I'll see you soon, Wifey," Han remarked as his hands snaked around your waist. You quickly embraced his hug, not caring how twisted it may have seemed. You held his words close to your heart as you let go, clutching onto the ladder as you exited the afterlife.

---

You climbed, and climbed, and climbed until your arms were sick of doing so. Eventually, you reached an opening which led to the Winter River Cemetary.

You were home at last.

Astrid turned around to face you, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Thank you for saving my life," her voice trembled as she expressed her gratitude. "I'm so sorry I never belived that you saw ghosts and...I don't know, I'm just sorry for all of it!"

There were only two situations you can say you ever felt your heart truly beat. The first was when you met Han for the first time; the second was this exact moment.

You and Astrid's relationship was subpar, at best. Ever since her father's passing, she had refused to interact with you, especially where the paranormal was concerned. Until tonight, Astrid thought the entire concept of spirits, witches, demons, and all things supernatural was a load of hullabaloo. She never wanted to claim you as her mother.

Until tonight that was, when you had earned her trust back.

You inched forward in preparation to give a response; however, your train of thought derailed when you heard someone calling your name repeatedly, insisting upon the fact that you were, 'late,' for something. You glanced over Astrid's shoulder and noticed that it was the town pastor calling your name. That is when it hit you:

"Oh my gosh, my wedding!" you yelled as you rushed towards the church building, Astrid trailing your feet close behind.

"Wait, mom, after everything that's happened tonight, you know you don't have to do this, right?" Astrid asked earnestly. Your mind flashed back to the events of tonight; the pet names Han had called you, how tightly he had held your hand, how he referred to you as, "the love of his afterlife." You knew by all means those were not the events Astrid was talking about by a long shot; however, they sunk the truth into her words.

"I know, but if I don't do it now, I'm never going to do it!"

"Are you really sure about this?" Astrid could sense the unsincerity in your tone. You let out an aggravated sigh.

You were not actually sure, that was the truth. I mean, who truly is sure about marrying a man they have been committed to for less than a year, let alone a man who proposed on the same day as your father's funeral?!

You answered, hesitance prominent in your voice, yet giving a response in attempts to convince both your daughter and yourself that this marriage was a good thing: "Hyun loves me, and that's got to be enough!"

Ah yes, Hyun. Short for Hyunjin. The tragic fiancé you had met at a widow's resort. He had told you his sob story of a tale, how his fiancé had perished in a skiing accident, and as you would have put it, the two of you just clicked.

You agreed to the marriage on his accord rather than your own, truly; you felt pressured by the crowd of people watching his proposal at your father's funeral and by his desperate pleas. You knew this was not what was in the tarot cards for you, yet you tried to claim that it was.

You had finally reached the entrance of the church when you ran into the aforementioned fellow. He lazily embraced you, your arms suddenly becoming doubtful to wrap around him in return.

"I thought you got cold feet," Hyunjin confessed as he removed his arms from around you.

"No, blame me," Astrid piped up. "She just saved me from my date from hell."

"Who are all of these people?" you failed to acknowledge either statement, instead taking notice of all the unfamilarity present within the crowd of attendees.

"Just a couple of influencers; nobody under five million followers, and I think we have a Netflix executive in there," Hyunjin smiled as he said this, but you could only groan in frustration.

You see, along with being your husband to be, Hyunjin was also your manager. He partnered alongside you for every media project you participated in, most specifically your new hit show, "Ghost House." Hyunjin loved the attention.

You did not. Hence, your disapproval of the wedding guests.

Your anxious thinking once again halted, this time as a result of Astrid snapping her fingers repeatedly.

"Are we doing this or what?" she asked impatiently.

"Right, yes, of course," Hyunjin agreed before eyeing you up and down. "Where is your dress?" You waved your hands slightly in dismissal.

"All that matters is that I am here now, so let's just skip straight to the vows," you did not make eye contact for a second as you spoke to him.

"Wait, where's Delia?" Astrid quieried about your step-mother. A flash of light and a rumble of thunder caused everyone to turn their attention to the front of the church pew.

"Yo!" a voice boomed across the audience, and you glanced forward to see the one and only. "She's right here," he responded to Astrid's question, pointed to the red-haired lady standing beside him.

One thing about Han: he was excellent at keeping his promises.

"She was helping me calm down before the wedding," Han continued. "I was feeling a little jittery." He chuckled arduously before pushing Delia aside.

"You!" Hyunjin thundered as he sped across the aisle. "You're that thing from my dream!" He was referring to an earlier occurance in which he had muttered the legendary three-word encantation and found himself in a dreamlike state encountering Han.

"Well, I'm really more nightmare material, but thanks!" You stifled a chuckle at Han's comeback.

"Whats up, Be-" Astrid attempted to call Han's real name; however, her voice was quickly stifled, accompanied by a tsking from Han.

"Part of the deal is you can never ever say my name, ever!" Han explained the reasoning behind the sudden silencing as Astrid rubbed her throat; Han held up the handbook for the dead from earlier.

"What deal?" Astrid asked in return.

"The deal she," Han pointed at you, "made to save you," he moved his pointer finger to Astrid. "That's why I said you can call me dad earlier."

"Y/n." Delia stated your name bluntly. "You agreed to marry him?!" Saying Delia was outraged was a complete understatement. She looked at you with horror present in your eyes, terrified as to how the next events would unfold. You began to stumble over your words.

"Well, uh. You see I did, but I was, um," you felt desperate prying at your words. Han looked at you with intrigued intent; both he and you knew the real reason why you had chosen to marry him, yet he also knew you were trying to find a way to hide your true intentions. The glares he was sending your way did not aid your cause; they were sultry, yet agitating, as if they were encouraging you to tell how you fell in love with a demon and that was why you were so quick to agree to a marriage in order to save your daughter.

"Y/n, what is really going on here?" Hyunjin interrogated, his annoyed gaze boring into yours. Your stare instead found Han's, your eyes pleading for his help.

"Wow!" Han exclaimed as he threw the handbook onto the altar. "Talk about awkward!" He had suddenly appeared behind Hyunjin, an arm slung around his shoulders and causing the crowd to gasp. "You haven't made much progress since our last session, so I'm going to go ahead and recommend some drug therapy." Han was once again referring to the "dream" Hyunjin had prior in the day. He pulled out a filled syringe labeled, 'truth serum,' and injected the liquid straight into Hyunjin's neck.

"Don't be afraid to share when you're ready!" he told Hyunjin with a cheeky grin on his face. Hyunjin's body betrayed him in this moment, shifting towards you with blown out eyes and quivering lips, as if he was trying to hold back from saying something. Han had appeared behind you now, the same smug arm snug around your shoulders.

"Let's see what your, "lover," truly thinks, shall we?" Han whispered against your neck. You and Astrid's expressions were contorted into confusion.

"I always thought your whole act was bullshit," Hyunjin suddenly confessed, causing your eyebrows to heighten and your lips to mouth, 'what?' "I never believed in ghosts, spirits, or any of it."

"What?" you inquired, extremely taken aback by his truthfull confession. "All this time? Why the hell did you want to get married then?"

"Money!" Hyunjin outbursted. "I knew I could make more money as your husband than as your manager!" He tried to cusp a hand over his mouth to keep the truth from overflowing but failed tremendously; meanwhile, your mouth was agape at the words he was spilling. "And I never had a dead fiancé. I just went to that survivor's retreat to try and pick up a girl," he winced at his last confession. You could feel nothing in your heart but anger and disgust; Han, on the other hand felt immense pleasure in seeing your realization of what an absolute scumbag your ex soon-to-be-wed was.

"How about a little physical therapy?" Han gently grasped your fist and lifted it up, taking the action straight out of your mind. Before a rational thought could cross your mind, you had knocked Hyunjin clean in the nose, the force of the impact catapulting him backwards. Han clapped forcefully and joyously at the incident, and you did something that shocked yourself; you smiled. For once in your life, you had stood up for yourself, and you took pride in that. In the midst of your self-glory, Han began to address the crowd.

"We'd like to thank you all for coming, but right now, we'd like a little privacy." He snapped his fingers, and the crowd subconsciously turned their phones around so the camera faced them. Their faces began to morph into grotesque shapes as they were pulled into their cellular cameras. In a flash, every unfamiliar face in the audience had vanished, leaving only you, Han, Astrid, Delia, Hyunjin, and the church's pastor. The latter of the six attempted to make his escape through the back entrance; however, his efforts were for nothing as Han was two steps in front of him, standing square in the middle of the doorframe.

"Where ya going, Padre?" Han asked rhetorically; he snapped his fingers once more, and the pastor appeared at the front of the altar, his Bible in hand. Han subsequently poofed on the left side in front of the pastor, reaching out a hand for you to join him on the right. An undead symphony began to play a surprisingly harmonious melody as the two of you linked arms. You looked up at him, slightly hesitant at the suddenness of the events at hand. The remaining few in the crowd began to sing along to the melody that was playing, notably doing so under hypnosis. Han took your hand in his and brought you closer to him, beginning to slow dance with you under the radiant light of the church's chandelier.

You would have been lying if you said there was not a part of you that did not like this experience. Sure, Han was a demon who had done questionable things and was downright psychotic at certain points. Yet, you could not stop thinking about what he had done and subsequently said earlier: "You don't mess with the daughter of the love of my afterlife!"

It made you realize: he truly cared about you. Unlike most demons, he had some semblance of a heart, even if he had a funny way of showing it. Not only this, but he cared about your daughter like she was his own, and that won your heart straight away.

The lights dimmed as you leaned into his embrace, beginning to slow-dance. He smiled as he looked down at you, wrapping a loose arm around your waist to hold you there and planting a small kiss on the top of your forehead.

"I knew you knew who you belonged with." Before you could respond, you were floating; you had found that ghosts tended to do that when they demonstrated affection. Although the experience was supernatural, you did not want it any other way. You stared deep into Han's eyes and he reciprocated. You contemplated leaning in for a kiss, knowing what that would mean for Han but the mere thought of it being more exhilerating than nerve-wracking.

That is why it was such a pain whenever the afterlife police crashed the wedding. They broke in through the windows, fell from the chandeliers, and some even came out of the spot where the symphony was playing. The music came to a halt, and the low lights came back up.

"Mr. Juice!" the lead of the afterlife police named Wolf Jackson boomed. "You have violated code 6-9-9!" Wolf did not get to finish, as Han took out a megaphone and shouted the word, 'Freeze,' causing the guards to do just that. You had hoped that was the last of the night's problems.

You found out that you were sorely mistaken.

The church doors flew open, and there stood a ghostly young woman; her skin was somehow paler than Han's. Her hair, eyes, nails, clothing, and shoes were all as black as ebony, and staples adorned what seemed to be a never-ending scar cascading down her body.

"BEETLEJUICE!" she thundered across the church pews, slowly making her way towards the demon. Han looked absolutely astounded in negativity.

"Sweetheart!" He grimaced as he spoke the pet name. "You look amazing!" From these four words alone, you came to the conclusion that this was Delores, Han's ex-wife that he had mentioned in passing. All of a sudden, Delores moved her hand in a swift motion, flinging you away from Han as she drew closer to him. He sputtered out multiple things about going through a lot of changes, how it was not her but him, and something about a mid-afterlife crisis.

"Your soul belongs to me, my love. For eternity," she did not take into account anything Han had said, only focused on sucking the remainder of his living soul out of him.

"You don't wanna spend your eternity with me!" Han retaliated nervously. "I'm not the one for you. You need a soulmate. Somebody who really sees you. For instance," he stepped out of the way, revealing an unfrozen Hyunjin. He snapped his fingers, changing the tuxedo top Hyunjin was wearing into a T-shirt stating, "I <3 Delores." This captivated her attention, more with confusion than arousal albeit.

You, on the other hand, were still splayed on the ground where Delores had played human ping pong with you. You glanced over to your right and saw Astrid drawing a symbol on the ground with Delia's lipstick. She knocked on it three times; you were not sure what it was until her knocks caused it to open like a trapdoor. It was a gateway to the same deserted area you and Astrid had been in earlier. Coming to a swift realization, the three of you moved out of the trapdoor's vicinity just in time to narrowly miss the large sandworm that erupted through the opening.

After an entanglement of Han leading the sandworm on where to go with a red cloth like a matador, the sandworm had swallowed both Delores and Hyunjin whole. Funnily enough, the pastor used this time to make his legitimate escape while Han was concerned with commanding the sandworm.

You sighed out of relief. 'This is the end of it,' you truly believed. Astrid and Deliah helped you up as you glanced at Han, mouthing a 'thank you' to him.

"No problem, my love," he replied, sadness slightly tinging his voice. "See you on the other side."

And as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone.

---

"I want to thank all of you ghosties out there for your support over all of these years." Thunder clapped as you spoke solumly into the camera. "This is my last show. I have spent so much time talking to the dead. It's time I start living and make memories with the people I love, rather than be haunted by them later." The tape stopped rolling automatically, and you let out a sigh of relief. You stood up from your filming chair, which was truly just the recliner in your attic, and walked over to the replica of Winter River. It was still split in half from a certain visitor; however, you felt there was no need in repairing it as you sat on your knees, especially not with what you were about to do.

You had been thinking a lot lately. You knew what your heart longed to do, and it was time to put that motion into effect. As such, you closed your eyes, took in a deep breath, and muttered the same name three times.

"Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice."

Han did not make much of a scene as he appeared this time; he had been watching over you the last few days, and knew the intensity of a typical arrival would be too much.

"Well, well, well," he remarked slowly. You opened your eyes and saw the ghost directly in front of you, sitting in a similar position to your own. The sight of him made you smile with pure joy, and he could not help but return it. "I'm glad to see the second marriage has made you finally pick up the phone," he teased you and you let out a small giggle.

"I've been thinking," you muttered. "And as I think, my mind keeps wondering back to one particular moment when we were together last. You really pulled through for me and Astrid," you spoke kindly, truthfully, your heart picking up the pace with every word you spoke towards him. "I know you told the ex-wife that she needed a soulmate. Someone who understands her." You reached out to grab Han's cold, pale hand. "I know you weren't talking to me, but," you took a brief pause to contemplate your next words. "I think that's what you are to me."

Your words caused Han's mouth to go agape, his eyes wide in astonishment. "Are you saying..."

Instead of saying anything, you showed him. You cupped his snow-white chipmunk cheeks and brought his face to your own, capturing him in a daring kiss. It was full of passion, romanticism, and overall, love.

Everything you would expect a demon not to possess.

You only pulled away from the kiss when you heard the sound of Han's heart beating. You softly opened your eyes where an incredulous image awaited you:

Han's skin had darkened into a light, peachy color. The dark black rings around his eyes had vanquished, and the shaggy green hair he once possessed had now morphed into healthy brown locks. His eyes, for once, looked as if they contained life.

Because they did.

You knew kissing Han in addition to signing that marriage contract would bring him back to life; however, you had decided that was the life you wanted. Countless times, he had shown how he would pull through for you, how he would best his demon status and do anything you asked.

You were confident he was your purpose.

"Woah," Han glanced down at himself, astounded by the sight of himself alive once more. "You brought me back to life." He could not express his thoughts in mere words; therefore, he did so by engulfing you in the tightest hug known to mankind. Against his chest, you mumbled a sentence that made his beating heart pound:

"Han, you brought me back to life."

[celaenaeiln]

Please talk more about B & D’s “unable to be defined/labeled dynamic/relationship as it encompasses many labels yet at the same time cannot be fitted to just one label” dynamic 🙏

I'd be delighted to!!

Link to original post

In the previous post I had included a panel where Bruce is referred to Dick as his "surrogate father, mentor, friend, and partner." These words could not be more different from each other and while they should not be used in conjunction with each other, they have never suited these two people more. In fact I don't there is any character pairing in any fandom that has the same dynamic that these two have. Dick and Bruce's relationship has a complicated depth to it that Bruce and the rest of his children don't have.

I think the most confusing thing is when Bruce constantly confuses Dick being a son and a partner.

First thing I want to start off with is that Dick and Bruce used to sleep in beds so close together it looks like one bed. In the 1950's this arrangement was known as the "twin beds" which were typically used for married couples. Children slept in a separate bedroom which begs the question why Dick and Bruce had a sleeping arrangement similar to that of marriage partners. This is the first weird thing about their relationship.

Not to mention, the romantic boat rides they used to take together. But was this normal then between father and son or is it just a romantic thing now, I don't know. As well as when they decided bronzing themselves naked next to each other. Not really sure what was going on there, if it was acceptable during that time or what but I do know that the reason that creators decided to send Dick to college in 1970 was because they wanted to beat the gay batman and robin allegations. It's weird as hell that they even came up with these ideas. Also the robin crossdressing. For justice, am I right?!

I feel these instances are important because it breaks any barriers they have between them. They're so (platonically for me) intimate that there's nothing but each other in their souls. One of the key reasons that their relationship is vague and intense and encompassing.

Dick is also considered Bruce's partner intellectually.

Instead of Dick listening to Bruce and following behind, as it's often shown in robin comics, they talk on equal terms. There's other moments of this shown too:

I think this is the reason why Bruce considers Dick a partner. He's not only exceedingly intelligent, but he even at a young age he's able to keep up with Bruce's thought process as an equal when even the justice league and other major adult heroes fail to do. Bruce's inventions are Dick's inventions because they played an equal role in creating them. This is why he's called the Prodigal Son.

Now onto him being a best friend and a son mix.

We know the classic example of Dick expecting to be Bruce's best man and Bruce thinking the same. But there are other moments that indicate that too.

But it isn't one sided because Dick also sees Bruce as his best friend:

Dick punching Bruce in the throat and single handedly carrying him like a sack of potatoes is just funny as hell.

Also including the fact that Dick and Bruce embody sleepover, besties behavior:

BUT HERE'S WHERE IT GETS JUICY.

Having your child act as your bestfriend is terrible for your child's mental health.

I'm speaking from personal experience but when your parent trauma dumps their life onto you at a young age, you mature emotionally much faster than you're supposed. You start becoming aware of people's thoughts and emotions at a deeper level and you start attuning yourself to others. In layman's terms: you change yourself to be able to meet your parent's high expectations and act as an emotional sponge for their anger, sorrow, disappointment, and frustration about their own life.

I'm not hesitant to admit that Dick's manipulation tactics most likely stem from this behavior. He knows what he wants and he will do anything to get it. This doesn't mean he's a bad person though. In fact I give him the highest level of respect of any character because all his intentions are good. He doesn't cheat, lie, or trick people into killing themself or harming others or bringing them down. He does it to make their lives better which is-I'm sorry, I don't have the proper words to express the multitudes of emotion I'm feeling for that.

(I nearly went into a massive monologue about how other people view his manipulation but that's for another post. )

This is also where things get complicated, and why we know Bruce and Dick as the way they are.

Dick has become so emotionally and mentally adept that he's able to pick up on others' thoughts and attitudes (Bruce specifically) before they even realize them. This is why Bruce is so dependent on Dick for everything. In one comic Garth says "Dick's a good listener."

I'm going to deviate for a minute here and include a panel that shows how this personality trait affects Dick's other roles:

Speaking more about Bruce's impact on Dick, there's this:

Aside from the huge ass painting on the wall of just the two of them-the panel is another perfect example of the complicated depth to them. They see each other as equals and when something interferes with that perception, then they start having problems. It haunts Bruce that the 8yr old he took in is equally matched to him in skill and ability but he also recognizes that Dick is too young to be able to do so. He should not have to experience the pain and responsibility of an adult but Bruce can't just get rid of him because Dick is the only one capable of keeping up with him. His heart also breaks when Dick is away (he starts crying in a panel multiple panels as Dick is leaving). For Dick he's already far used to the roles and responsibilities that he doesn't consider his age a factor as to why Bruce refuses to let him do the same things. This is a source of miscommunication between them. Bruce knows Dick can succeed at anything given to him but feels he shouldn't have to deal with those things. And Dick doesn't understand the hesitance when he's proven to have accomplished those tasks and greater before.

To expand, Dick's relationship with Bruce reminds me of Slade's relationship with Billy Wintergreen when Deathstroke tells him "You've been with me through everything...but now I have to say goodbye when you're unconscious or else I can't do it." Or something along those lines, the vibes are the same.

Oh yes, and this scene too:

Which mimics a lot of the confusion other characters have over Dick and Bruce's relationship.

But the difference between Slade and Billy vs Dick and Bruce is that Dick and Bruce's relationship is blurred on ALL fronts. There's not a single moment where Bruce has viewed Dick strictly as a son.

This leads me into the mentor aspect.

Note: while Dick knows Bruce the best, Bruce also knows Dick the best of all his children. There's a certainty to the way he speaks about Dick's abilities that he lacks when discussing his other sons'. That doesn't mean he doesn't know what they can do-he well aware and knowledgeable-it just means that his relationship with and understanding of Dick far exceeds what he has with the others.

Holy crap there's so much I'm bouncing all over the place-let me go back for second to partners.

Everyone knows this iconic scene whether you're in the fandom or not:

But few people know what comes next-

From the dawn of Batman and Robin comics, Batman has been obsessed with controlling Dick. I don't understand why he doesn't use his manipulative tactics on anyone else. There's a comic panel where Dick tells Barbara, "...you and Bruce don't need to manipulate me into doing what you guys want." It was always his way or the highway with him and Bruce reflects on this again in Batman and Robin Eternal. Dick also tells Bruce he's being pig-headed during the 1966 comic version of the Warner Brother's film and when Bruce asks him "Am I really pig-headed?" Alfred goes "hell yeah." Essentially.

(Also going to sneak this in as another example of why Dick wasn't an angry robin to a previous post

)

Ofcourse Bruce seems him as a son too:

THE FULL ON SMILE HE HAS ON HIS FACE JUST LISTENING TO DICK TALK!!!

Also in the linked previous post there's the panel of Bruce begging the judge not to take away his son from him. "Dick is like my own son!I've even changed my will so that incase of my death, Dick will get my entire fortune! You honor, I...I love that boy! Please don't take him from me!"

We already know many references about Dick being labelled Dick's son so I'll leave this aside for now.

Now here's the main point- the way Bruce and Dick interact with each other has so much history they're unable to explain themselves to others or each other. There's so many complex emotions between the two of them that sometimes even they're confused.

But seriously. What is your obsession with Dick, Bruce?

Lemme explain.

As everyone knows Dick and Clark are best friends. They are so close to the point where Bruce actually sweeps the stuff off his desk in the batcave and says "LET ME JUST GET RID OF ALL OUR TROPHIES. I'LL JUST MAKE ROOM FOR THE ADVENTURES OF SUPERMAN AND ROBIN INSTEAD!"

WTFFFFF BRUCE. WHY ARE YOU GETTING JEALOUS OF YOUR 15YR OLD'S FRIENDSHIP?

Oh, yes, what trophies am I talking about? Trophies of their battles together of course!

Which means the batcave is memorabilia of their time together. You know what that also means? It means that Bruce sulks in the Batcave because in the cave, he can literally surround himself with the time he spent with Dick.

Bruce is so abnormal about Dick. He sees Dick as an all in one. Every single relationship category you can think of, Bruce has bundled it up and put it into Dick. If all their various relationships became a physical string, Bruce would have a leash on Dick that resembles a thick, corded rope. So if you cut one thread of, say, friendship, the rope won't tear become the other threads of partnership, family, and other ambiguous threads would still hold them together.

Bruce has a leash on Dick but something Dick doesn't know and Bruce won't admit is that Dick has a leash on him too.

HERE'S THE INSECURITY WITH DICK AGAIN. THE MAN THINKS THE WORLD OF DICK BUT HE'S HORRIFIED AT THE THOUGHT, AT THE POSSIBILITY, THAT DICK DOESN'T FEEL THE SAME OF HIM.

He's constantly seeking reassurance of his place with Dick through the only way he knows how-manipulation. While Bruce consistently distances himself from his son, he's doing it on purpose so Dick will come running back to him. I mean-isn't that what he did with Jason? Expelling Dick in fury and fear and not telling Dick about taking in a new robin?

In the comic Dick drops by and tells him "I found out through a newspaper and since I haven't been robin..." to which Bruce responds horrified and guilty. He knows what he's doing. He just doesn't want to get caught as to why.

Others have picked on this obsession he has with Dick too:

Someone clearly knew the importance of Nightwing to Batman. They knew what his death would do to him. And in response Bruce went out of his way-to a foreign land-just to take revenge on the man who almost took “his boy” away from him. Leaving with a parting promise, an oath, to hunt down the other one and leave him crippled for life too. Did Batman know KG Beast would survive or did he just leave it up to fate?

In the previous panel, apart from KG Beast calling Dick "your boy" to Batman, it's only implied though. So how do we know if Dick really does have that much weight to Bruce? Well not only is it confirmed, it is engraved in stone:

And when the blast nearly kills Dick, Bruce nearly kills the man who did it. WITH A GUN.

Also him trying to strangle Lex Luthor to death before Lex chokes out in between stolen gasps that Dick's not actually dead but he will be if Bruce continues.

Did you know that the dead Robin in the Superman vs Batman movie was confirmed to be Dick? Yeah. That says a lot right there.

Brothers

I'm not going to get into their brother relationship because that involves how Alfred treats Dick as a son rather than a grandson and is opening a whole new mansion of stuff so I'm going to wrap this up here and say the two of them are a LOT.

Bruce and Dick's relationship is impossible to define and that's why they keep ending up fighting. Their relationship doesn't have clear boundaries and since each type of relationship (brotherhood, father/son, partnership, friendship, colleagues, idols&pedestals) has it's own unique problems, and because the two of them alone are all those things, they have all the problems of each of these categories combined. But they also have all the benefits. Inseparably entwined these two.

[chvoswxtch]

Hi,

I had a request… I’m currently obsessed with Frank Castle (he’s just so 🥵) and had an idea, it’s not super original so I understand if you don’t want to write it!

A non-binary (they/she) character who is plus-sized and younger than him (in their mid-20s) taking him home to meet her family for the holidays. And she is very insecure and worried about how their family will react. Maybe while there, a family member says something hateful about her weight and/or being non-binary, and Frank goes to comfort/reassure her, and maybe even gets mad and defends her to her family?

Can be smut or just fluff (or both!)

I just thought it would be cute to see his more protective/caring side, mixed with his possessive and angry side. I love that dynamic (:

hello my love!

so i'm not sure if you've watched the bear (i'm still working through it myself) but there's a scene where jon flips a table and goes on a rampage and I just thought that was super fitting for this prompt so I drew a lot of inspiration from that & I hope you enjoy!

I also hope you're having a wonderful day or night wherever you are and that the holidays are being kind to you 🖤

warning: swearing, frank being frank word count: 1.5k

dessert.

It was so quiet in the cab of Frank’s truck, you swore you could almost hear the delicate noise of fresh snowflakes carelessly colliding with the windshield over the dull roar of the heat coming through the vents. The holidays were always a complicated time for you with your family. In the earlier months of the year, there was a welcoming sense of freedom to be exactly who you were without judgment. But when the colder weather started to seep in, so did the impending dread. All you had wanted to do was introduce your family to the man you had fallen in love with, and celebrate your first holiday together in a special way. You had anticipated a little bit of uncomfortable tension, prepared yourself for a few tasteless passive aggressive comments, but you didn’t think it would be this bad.

Bringing Frank home to meet your family hadn’t been the mistake. It was underestimating his protective nature and forgetting the caliber of his restless temper.

Things had already been off to a rocky start as soon as you walked through the door. Everyone’s eyes seemed to be shamelessly sticking to the way your outfit clung to the soft and full curves of your figure. The same outfit that had Frank nearly pulling over to the side of the road impatiently because he couldn’t keep his eyes ahead was currently the topic being whispered about by your aunts. However their attention was quickly stolen as soon as Frank walked in behind you. Their hushed gossip rang loudly in your ears, causing the confidence Frank had built up within you to fizzle out into insecure embers.

He’s so…normal looking. What’s he doing with her?

She’s not a her, remember? She’s…oh I forget what it’s called. Another complicated thing these kids have come up with. I swear it’s something new everyday. I can’t keep up.

He seems much too old for her, and look how fit he is. They seem way too different, there’s no way they’re actually dating.

It only got progressively worse from there. By the time everyone sat down to have dinner, it was like you weren’t even there. Everyone asked Frank a million and one questions, but no one asked you a single thing. No one asked how you were, or how the new job was going that you were so excited about. No one asked how you and Frank met, or how long you had been dating for. Everyone seemed to be trying to figure out the puzzle of what Frank was doing here with you, and eventually, you found yourself trying to solve that exact same riddle. It was almost incredible how your family managed to ruin all the trust and love that the two of you had built up over the past few months. All the promises of reassurance that flowed so easily from his lips seemed to vanish from your memory, and the quieter you got, the angrier Frank became.

He was polite at first, answering the simple questions with appropriate responses, but the more they tried to exclude you from the conversation, the more he tried to aggressively incorporate you into it. His frustration was evident in the way his voice became more rough and coarse, a detail only you were able to pick up on. That should’ve been the first warning bell in your head. But you were so wrapped up in your own insecurities that it didn’t occur to you to reach for his hand under the table to calm him like you normally did when he got worked up. Frank was doing his best to contain his rage at the way your family treated you, but one hateful comment from your alcoholic of an uncle about your weight caused him to erupt.

It all happened so fast, that you were stunned. Your uncle was in the middle of following up his weight comment with an insult about your non-binary identity when Frank suddenly stood and flipped the table out of his way so he could rush forward and strike his fist across your uncle's face. In a split second, everything had descended into chaos. Your mom and aunts were screaming, your father and uncles were trying to pull Frank off your drunk uncle, but they weren’t a match for his strength and tenacity. It wasn’t until you fought your way through them and tugged at Frank’s shirt in a panic that he finally relented and let you drag him out of the house.

For the past fifteen minutes, the two of you had been sitting in his truck where it was parked in front of your family’s house, both of you attempting to calm down. Frank was trying to quell his anger while you were coming down from the shock of what had just happened. The longer you sat in silence watching the waves of snowflakes caress the glass of the windshield, the more uneasy Frank became. Letting out a deep exhale through his large nose, he finally couldn’t take the quiet anymore.

“Look I…I didn’t…m’sorry, alright? Can you just…will you please say somethin’?”

“I can’t believe you flipped a table.”

Frank blinked in dumbfoundment a few times, his dark brows pinching together in the center of his forehead. He was expecting you to yell, to go off on him, maybe even break up with him right then and there, but not to hear you sound so amused about his explosive behavior.

“Huh?”

“That was ‘real housewives’ of you.”

When you finally turned to face him, he noticed the faint smirk on your lips, and that one little gesture eased all the anxiety that had been building up within him for the past fifteen minutes. He let out a puff of air through his lips, looking ahead as he shook his head slowly and glanced at his side mirror while trying to fight the crooked grin that threatened to spill across his lips.

“Yeah well, dinner was dull. Thought I’d spice it up a bit.”

“I’d say you spiced it up a lot.”

Frank turned his head to look over at you, and you could see a faint apologetic twinkle in his eye from the glow of the street lamp above.

“You mad?”

It was your turn to look at him in dumbfoundment. Arching one of your brows, you let out a soft laugh while tilting your head to the side in slight curiosity.

“Am I mad that you stuck up for me?”

“I coulda handled it better.”

Scooting over to the middle seat of the cab, you brought your hand up to gently caress his jaw while staring into his warm brown eyes with a soft smile.

“No Frankie, I’m not mad. I promise.”

Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his in a gentle kiss, letting him feel the sincerity behind your words. You weren’t mad at all. No one had ever been so protective or defensive of you before, and while some would’ve thought his reaction was a little extreme, you knew it was just Frank’s way of showing you how much he loved and cared about you.

“Thank you.”

“For ruinin’ the holidays with your family?”

“Baby, they were ruined before we even got here. And honestly, this is the best holiday season I’ve ever had, thanks to you. You made it special for me. It was probably a bad idea to come here, but I just wanted to show you off. Show them all how happy I was. I thought they would be happy for me-”

“Hey, to hell with ‘em. They don’t deserve to see that pretty smile after the way they treated you. That asshole’s lucky I don’t go back in there-”

“Frank.”

Letting out a soft laugh, you redirected his angry glare from your family’s house back towards you as you pulled him in for another soft kiss.

“Let’s just go home. We can order something in.”

Frank took one last irritated look at your family’s house, letting out a soft grunt of disapproval.

“Goddamn chicken was dry anyway.”

For some reason the frustration coveting his sharp features and the grumpy tone of his voice just made you laugh. Giving his thigh a gentle squeeze, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and smiled adoringly at him.

“We can have something else for dinner.”

Frank turned his head to look at you, his gaze wandering slowly up and down your figure before settling on your eyes once more. The ravenous look reflected back at you simultaneously sent a shiver down your spine and filled your lower half with a sense of heat. He reached out to place one of his large hands on your thigh, giving it a firm squeeze as his voice dropped to a husky whisper.

“Think I’m ready for dessert, sweetheart.”

tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @kdogreads @heimtathurs @mars-rants-a-lot @casa-boiardi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @hazallem @avencol @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

[thetallowman]

Alright. I need to ramble out a monologue about Hanno of Arwad, and how's he actually really interesting, thematically. (To finally cross him off the list of characters I have Thoughts about, if nothing else.)

When Hanno first shows up in Guide, it seems all but assured that he's going to end up an antagonist. He's in a band with the Bard (who has something bigger going on, even if the larger details aren't yet clear), he's got Chekhov's Training Montage as a backstory superpower (similar to the what William got in Arcadia), and his unique gimmick is flipping a coin (exclusively a villain move in other media). He seems set up to be be Cat's new heroic rival, and Black theorizes his Aspects were designed to counter her. Even their mottos clash: "I do not judge," vs. "Justifications only matter to the just."

Textually, Hanno seems like a threat because he's working for a Choir of angels, the same creatures that doomed William and tried to flip Cat. And this is a fair assumption - the Choir of Judgement (not Justice, notably) are a bunch of monsters that call tails on every coin flip in the series and are explicitly willing to kill the majority of the continent. It's easy to see Hanno in the role of headsman for a corrupt authority.

Meta-textually, Hanno resembles a certain other type of character often found in other media - the asshole paladin. It's a common archetype in villain-oriented stories, serving as an easy reversal of the normal dynamic while still allowing the protagonists to be reactive, since paladins are known for going out and finding evil to stab, rather than waiting it to come to them. (Notably, in these stories the shiny exterior usually hides a core of hate or stupidity; a holier-than-thou enemy is significantly less satisfying to defeat if they actually are holier than thou.) William seems to fit into this role - and the Exiled Prince definitely does, with his pomp and sanctimony and enchanted armor - but Hanno doesn't, and I think that's why he ends up being such an interesting character. Partially it's a matter of humility - Hanno's whole origin story revolves around the fallibility of mortal judgement, particularly his own - but there's a smaller-scale thing as well.

Specifically, I think Hanno's Two Face imitation is in direct conversation with DnD's Detect Evil and similar abilities. It's basically the same thing - point to somebody and ask your god if you should kill them - and it has basically the same problems. It's simultaneously an arbitrary excuse for murder, the ultimate appeal to (divine, unaccountable) authority, and an easy metaphor for any number of injustices. There are significant problems with a system where you can chop someone's head off on the grounds of "Voices said so, just trust me." (Note that the two characters Hanno clashes most with, Anaxares and Cordelia, both uphold the sanctity of mortal law.)

What makes Hanno different isn't when or how he flips the coin - but when he doesn't. He never flips the coin for anyone he isn't already intending to kill. His bandmates, inconvenient rulers, even an ex-villain like the Repentant Magister - none of them are put to the test. He uses it not as a means of discovering and slaying the guilty, but as a safeguard against accidentally slaying the innocent. He's ultimately still choosing what actions need to be stopped, and who to refer on for Judgement. And it's this baseline, when the Choir goes silent and the finale draws near, that allows him to come full circle and choose to do his best, even if his best is imperfect.

And I think that's really cool.

[jess-the-vampire]

I love how Philip and Biscuit's dynamic amounts to something along the lines of...

Philip: I live a life of solitude, and my misery and self-loathing know no bounds.

Biscuit: Hi Philip! Biscuit get flower for Philip! Philip happy now?

Phillip: ... Yes, Philip happy now.

biscuit's development is super funny in retrospect, because i created him as a response to this staff we're shown in philip's journal:

and at the time, my assumption was that this was his own palisman, and the fandom and wittebane community wondered if he had one at some point and uh....ate it, which is where the palisman eating idea evolved from (This is given no answer in the show itself).

other creators have some other ideas, like the lovely @captainmera have interpreted it as evelyn's palisman, but the show itself kinda never gave us an answer which i still find kinda strange to this day.

i mean, why show us a palisman at all in this book if we never get to know who it belongs to and why philip was studying it? And it was post-cut too (Since this appeared in KKKOHD and we were told they were informed back in ER), so it can't be entirely waved off as a cut concept either.

I get the impression now the crew didn't think we would care and just thought of adding a random palisman to the journal (Especially given it seems unlikely philip ever had a palisman at this point) , but i prefer it to be more relevant then that if they were going to show us it.

but at the time, since that was where my head was at, i made biscuit as a result, expecting to eventually update him design and name wise, only for that to never happen since the spider staff never got answers.

so i basically made an original character out of what i thought would be an established character?

and because i prefer giving the palisman a lot more personality, and because spiders are typically seen as scary, i figured making the spider actually very cute would be a perfect way of going about it.

Which i guess worked because people tend to love biscuit, i have had people happily draw him, some try and make plushies of him, he's gotten nods even in the wittebane collab, and i think that's cute.

i think deer, horses, ect also do fit philip's character, especially aesthetically, but i do think spiders also quite fit his personality with the weaving of the web, the trickery, and consumption and draining of smaller creatures.

also the duology of Philip in this au being reclused and miserable paried with a creature whose ungodly supportive and a ball of sunshine makes for funny and interesting comics around them. It also allows for philip to have a character that helps him develop in this au and progress as a person, especially in periods where caleb and hunter aren't there. The palisman eater, growing a bond with his palisman.

sorry for the tangent, it's always just funny how we ended up in this position regarding them in the au, cause boy is it quite the evolution

[call-me-copycat]

Michi…. Shinsou’s hero name… how are we feeling?? It’s okay but def not what I expected 😭

Leaks for those unaware:

Ok, being a huge MHA fan once I saw an update about Shinso I nearly cried on instinct but now some time has passed I'm able to think about it more

It doesn't seem too bad for a hero name? There's worse after all: Tail Man, Sugar Man, Invisible Girl, Grape Juice, etc

Still, I like to think we as a fandom have grown close to the conjectured name MindJack for him so it's certainly a little unfamiliar

That being said, while I do wish his hero name had something to do a little more with his quirk, I do like the name NightHide (it's cheesy but so are most of the Hero names - look at All Might's!)

It fits the same pattern Horikoshi goes through when he's made most of the other Hero names, which I like because it fits Shinso in just a little more (so nice seeing him not sticking out anymore but now a part of the group)

It also makes sense in hindsight that his hero name doesn't allude to his quirk because the whole point of his quirk is depending on others not knowing what it is

That's why I'm a little confused that he seems to be a Pro Hero instead of an Underground Hero? I feel that with a quirk like his he might be better suited for the Underground life (most would speculate based on his similarities to Aizawa after all)

Maybe he wanted to forge his own path? Maybe he just likes being part of the group? Aizawa only really had Hizashi and Nemuri growing as a hero, so he might've been better suited for the loneliness that came with being an underground hero. Shinso throughout the series seems to always be surrounded by people, so he's probably more used to it than solitude like Aizawa (just speculation)

That being said I definitely liked the Shinso cameo, it made my day (because most of the leaks seemed to bring lots of pain to me ૮( ̳ т ̫ т ̳ )ა)

I might share the rest of the leaks I got from Twitter actually, this is very exciting for me (very exhausting too)

That being said, look at him in the back!

I really hope he kept his original Hero outfit we saw in the anime because I thought that looked fantastic, so that's why I'm a little worried about people talking about how his outfit looks more like Aizawa's (⁠´⁠；⁠ω⁠；⁠｀⁠)

As much as I like the Aizawa - Shinso dynamic, I want to see Shinso grow! I want to see him carve out his own path in life!

I'm always happy to get Shinso content at this point so I can't be too picky, that being said it's not a bad name at all! (´∇｀)

Edit:

I feel the need to point out in Japanese it'll sound a little different than when it's spoken in English

In English, "Night" and "Hide" sound a little similar, only due to the middle "I"

In Japanese, "Night" will be said similar to "Nai-to" (high to low pitch) and hide will be "hai-do" (since this is also high to low pitch, the D is sharper and sounds similar to the T in "to" in "Nai-to")

It just sounds a little more uniform in Japanese, so I kind of understand why more people are put off by it in standard English

It's an okay name, not bad, and I think it actually fits Horikoshi's habits when it comes to Hero names -⁠ᄒ⁠ᴥ⁠ᄒ⁠-

"SunEater"

"EraserHead"

"All Might"

"Red Riot"

"BackDraft"

Combining 2 English words into 1 typically (obviously with exceptions like "Ingenium" or "Tsukuyomi")

"EdgeShot"

"Loud Cloud"

Overall he's just one to come up with quick, cheesy, partial English names for his characters - I think we've gotten so used to calling these people by their hero names that we forget how odd they must sound to outsiders (I remember thinking "Eraserhead" was a weird name for awhile as a kid actually) (⁠๑⁠¯⁠◡⁠¯⁠๑⁠)

[loudclan-clangen]

Fierce x Silt would be an ABSOLUTE POWER COUPLE and you are welcome to ship them all you want (as always) but in cannon Fiercestripe would never, even for a moment, consider taking another mate. If Wildfirecry dies before her she will wait that shit out cause she's not single, her husband is just in starclan. I honestly think that even without Wildfirecry in the picture she's just too much of a caretaker/mom friend to ever be in a relationship with someone younger than her. Fiercestripe needs her mate to be the one person in her life that she is not worried about if that makes sense? She'll help find Silt a nice new boyfriend who is not 48 moons older than her and they can be crochety grandparents in the elder's den together.

No. <3

Thank you! And do not be sorry because YES! You're so right! She's seeing herself in the stars and so she doesn't look any farther into it but it's just an image she's projecting, not something someone is showing her. She also doesn't put any thought into the fact that in order to walk amongst the stars she would have to pass away so, she's literally seeing a future where she dies due to her own inflated self image and it just inflates her self image more. It's a self fulfilling prophecy and it makes me love her and her story so much!

It was not intentional as I haven't watched centaurworld, but upon listening to it I see what you mean! It definitely fits in with what I was trying to reference, which are those kinda ominous lullabies (hush a bye baby was the specific one that came to mind while drawing), but to be honest with you it's a relatively minor detail in the overall comic. What the character is saying is a lot less important than what the character is about to do so i didn't put a ton of thought into it.

Thank you! I am also shocked by how little time has passed in story like what do you mean we aren't even at two years yet? Eklutna wasn't even here for a moon? How is that possible?! I know that Moon 21 brought and is still bringing a LOT of people to the blog and I am so grateful for that! Loudclan gained like 200 followers over my break and that's AWESOME but also a little bit terrifying tbh. Don't worry I also got attached to Mothtree and I was like lying in bed thinking about the fact that she dies for like three whole months while I and everyone else drew cute art of her.

Thank you! I'm so happy to be at a point where I'm happy with my art and my process and that has a lot to do with all the support I've gotten from you guys! You're an awesome community who has encouraged my growth at every opportunity and I couldn't be luckier! All that said I hope you get to enjoy a minor version of the same process all over again as I get back in the routine of drawing cats again after my break lol.

I mean... they are kinda yellow... could that mean... PACKMAN IS THE BABYDADDY?!?!?!

I did really enjoy my break! I got to go to Greece and Germany with some of my best friends and then I came home and cracked down on school work (which wasn't necessarily fun, but feels good to be done with), and now I am rested and relaxed and ready to get back into it!

Thank you! I try to put a lot of thought into them! Things like that are generally the first thing that I envision when I'm formulating a comic page and then I build the rest of it around that original idea which I hope helps to make the pages more dynamic and less repetitive.

Thank you, I can't wait to finally drop Part 2! Only 5 more days!

[chocsra]

if you’re ok with writing for multiple characters, could i request a platonic oneshot with chuuya and dazai x fem!reader who is apart of their “double black” (except ig it wouldn’t be double black anymore) and both mediates their arguments and instigates them? (maybe a snippet of friends to lovers between chuuya and the reader 🤭) tysm have a nice day!

"Unlit Cigarettes stained by Warm Lips"

15! Chuuya x gn! reader x 15! platonic! Dazai

A/N: ofc! yall i should keep my mouth shut bc i make too many promises i cant keep. HALLOWEEN IS SOON BTW AAAAAA

Content: stuck in a jail cell with your unfortunately idiotic subordinates, fluff, crack, mafia work, reader is MEAN, a little romance w chuuya, dazai may be ooc but i like to think that in this kinda dynamic he acts more like a normal teen, slight soukoku, smoking, lots of swearing, NOT PROOFREAD‼️‼️

"Missss.. [Y/N]s smoking."

You slap the lanky boy's shoulder harshly as you shove the cigarette box back into your sleeve, watching as your other subordinate's face contort in surprise as Dazai mockingly whines. "Ow.." he rubs his shoulder with bandaged fingers, the ginger next to him looks at you with amusement and confusion. "Where the hell did ya get that?" he asks, you sulk in annoyance from the whining bastard beside you, "Up your ass." a quiet click of the tongue from the ginger can be heard as you defy his genuine question.

Unfortunately, these two are your subordinates, your partners in criminal work, your associated murderers in the underground business. Even though Double Black is all scary and terrifiyingly violent, you thought they were a pair of funny, immature and idiotic assholes.

Dazai Osamu, a lanky, greasy boy wrapped in bandages, loved dying. Yes, he wanted to fucking die, but he doesn't. You sometimes question his skill of staying alive after that many suicide attempts, but it's alright, you suppose. The mafioso had messy brown hair and wore massive suits that did not fit him and constantly smells like dog shit. He claims he has a silver tongue with women but the only woman he 'has' is the front-desk suicide hotline lady. If somebody ever asked your opinion on him, you would answer.. "He's.. interesting."

Next is Chuuya Nakahara, a short, but strong arrogant boy who is frustratingly brutal. Veeery brutal. He's extremely competitive and takes every minor activity as a sweat-inducing challenge. Karaoke is a pain when he's screaming his ass off, simplistic cooking or baking is horrifiying because this shithead works like he's donating food to charity as if his fatass isn't going to inhale everything afterwards, and any sort of video game was devasting, any one.

He had short ginger hair and stormy azure eyes. His fashion sucked until Koyou, a fellow superior of yours knocked some sense into him. Chuuya had a rather small figure but fairly muscled. Yeah, he flexed his abs (ribs) in the mirror randomly. The boy loved fedoras, chokers and classic, fancy clothing that made girls scream 'DAMON TORRANCE 😍‼️' under his Instragram posts. If someone were to ask your opinion on him, you'd say: "He's an alright guy," with a shrug.

Some dumbass landed you three in jail for a reason you'd rather not speak of, and now you have to deal with the aftermath of waiting for your 'beloved' guardian, Mori Ougai to come bail you three out.

"Mackerel," Chuuya jabs Dazai's side, intensely glaring at him. "Why'd you get the guard's attention? I could've smoked." he hisses, causing the taller boy to snap back at him with an eyeroll. "Nah it's fine, I don't have a lighter anyway." you mediate the tension, boredly playing with the flimsy cigarette box in your hand. The redhead scoffs a little, leaning back in the concrete seat of the jailcell, impossibly manspreading further. "We could use Dazai's hot ass breath as a makeshift lighter.." Chuuya suggests with a smirk, the lanky teenager sassily scoffs, "Or rub pipsqueak's oily hair until it catches fire."

"Like- how would that make a fire?" you retort in amusement, "Have you ever been to a science class?" Dazai and Chuuya shrug in sync unshamefully,

"Was busy protectin' gangsta kids."

"Missed most of middle school 'cause of an attempt."

...

"Fair enough," you shrug back, fixing your hair. "Y'know, Boss is gonna kill us when he gets here." you add on, leaning your head against the prison wall. "I know, I'm not fuckin' prepared," Chuuya copies your movements beside you, loosely throwing an arm around your shoulder. Dazai's eyebrows knit in amusement and embarrassment at the sight, "Pipsqueak, you are NOT smooth." the ginger almost glitches as he flew away from you at those words, now chasing the brunette around the jailcell.

"'Playfighting between you guys is a fuckin' hazard, even for the mafia." you mumble, placing the unlit cigarette between your lips to feel the sensation once more. "This isn't playfighting! I'm gonna kill his ass!" Chuuya pants between missed kicks thrown at Dazai. "That's why [Y/N] thinks you give 'dog vibes'!!" the brunette retorts, bringing up a previous conversation based off you psychoanalyzing your coworkers.

"Why you!-" the smaller boy curses, flying off a wall aimed towards Dazai's head. "I'm not wrong though!!" you fling your arms up in surrender, smiling cheekily as Chuuya rolls his eyes. "After this fuckboy, you're next." You swallow thickly in slight fear. You swore you could hear walls crack and floors thump at the loud commotion, drowning out the poised footsteps towards your cell.

"Sir, are these your children?"

A kind, petite policewoman points to you three fighting like rabid animals. Mori Ougai, your tall, diabolic and terrifiying boss smiles fakely, watching his underlings fight in pure irritation.

"Unfortunately."

The tall brunette immediately halts as the ginger almost decks him in the face. Your hands stay frozen in the air as if you've been caught instigating a chicken fight.

Dude, you are so fucked.

[disruptivevoib]

I am eternally thinking about how Whole is a concept of the fandom and not canonical at all.

Arguably, maybe someone would say the inclusion of Whole diminishes the original message of the album, to which I do not disagree but I do not agree either.

He changes the context of it, I suppose?

Because the original album, Whole is a concept to be strived for. He is not real, it is always just Heart, Mind, and Soul beneath the surface. They are manifested facilities of the way a person is, how they talk to themselves, the internal conversation. That "psychosocial envy" is the idea of the album. The effect that social standards have on someone who views themself as flawed beyond recognition without any idea how to fit into what the world wants of them.

Soul longs to be Whole because he longs to become what society deems is a person. All of what they are and what they want to be comes in many different forms. It could be any number of internalized ideals of what a man should be, or who you should love, or what you should strive for in life.

Two Wuv as a song is that realization that even after Mind and Heart are better, after they've been able to communicate and function "properly", there is no Whole coming. This is who they are, and that is fine. He is not perfect, he is not what society wants, but he IS a person, and to him, he is Whole.

It is a concept of self forgiveness and grace. The ability to have nuance that what society seeks of you is not so important as truth of the self, owning your flaws and seeming imperfections.

Ultimately, everyone's brain runs differently. Everyone talks to themselves differently, refers to and conceptualizes their inner-world in many ways, and none of it is definable. We have no capable way of putting the way somebody speaks to themself, refers to, and functions within themselves entirely into a box. We are a collection of lived experiences turning itself into informed reactions and responses. If that makes any sense at all.

Of course, the things we have put labels to are definable and are all a part of how we interact with ourself, and there are always commonalities and similarities. There is so much variety in it, being human is fluid...

Anyways.

Without Whole, the "end" of the album means they are in acceptance of one another, that there is a positive relationship with your inner dialogue for some time before something happens and causes a harsh reflection to shatter it all. With him, it is essentially the same, just that there is a more literal or tangible figure to represent that cohesive self-acceptance.

Whole being a tangible character doesn't change Soul, but as I said, informs him more. Whole and Soul are mirror images, they are had to separate and Soul is what Whole is without the interwoven Emotion and Thought.. I suppose. Soul strives for him, and without him, comes to accept this is how it is and who he is. With him, Soul may miss that aspect, or more so, get it only to discover Whole is real, and everything he did worked, but now he sacrifices himself for that.

The dynamic is interesting but incredibly devastating in that regard, especially because it is unlikely Whole's intention to ever split. Nobody wants to have a mental breakdown, y'know?

I could go on about this forever. Whole not being a real character (at least not in the way we often think of him) in the album but something very real and even achievable within the fandom space is.. I dunno, so unique? Its not often fans get to create something that while entirely uncanon to the project, is very important to it.

Side note, what I mean by not how we see him is that Whole is real because they have always been Whole. In album there is no separation. If anything, Concord is like leaving CJ's inner dialogue and witnessing just all of them in tandem being him.

Okay okay. I'm done.

[merriclo]

A Quick Analysis of the Tanizaki Siblings

With the release of chapter 118, it’s been officially confirmed that Naomi and Jun’ichirō are not blood-related, seemingly shifting their entire dynamic. this has, of course, resulted in many different opinions and stances within the fandom, and i wanted to share my own thoughts on it.

this post will briefly go over each of their characters and their relationship with each other. later on, i will be making a video essay going even deeper into it, because,, i genuinely can’t stop thinking about this.

content warning for discussions of incest and sexual assault, harassment, and abuse. please please please don’t read if these topics are too heavy for you. take care of yourself. this is also a repost, as the original post didn’t show up in any tags. you can read the original post, alongside a great addition, here!

in order to fully understand them together, we need to establish who they are apart. so, part one of this will be an analysis on Jun’ichirō’s character, part two of Naomi’s, and part three of their relationship.

Part One — Jun’ichirō Tanizaki

(i’ve already discussed a bit of Jun’ichirō’s character in one of my earlier posts, but i wanted to take the time to further elaborate on a few points i made. i wasn’t able to fit some other points in, though, due simply to them not being very relevant, so if you’re curious, go check that one out too!!)

Jun’ichirō is an incredibly fascinating character for multiple reasons. he thinks of himself as incredibly average. I’d like to call attention to this quote in particular. a fact exemplified by this quote:

“…Tanizaki felt he was mediocre at his job, held mediocre principles, and had a mediocre sense of justice, which made him a mediocre human being. He didn’t have the courage to talk back to or stand up to Dazai. Put simply, he was incredibly passive.”

this is found in A Day at the Detective Agency on page 42, a short story detailing how the Armed Detective Agency decided what Atsushi’s entrance exam would be, told through the third person perspective of Jun’ichirō.

these words, these claims of mediocrity, are his own. he truly believes himself to be an average, unassuming member of the agency. in other parts of the story, he calls himself timid (pg 37) and an ordinary guy (pg 54), and says that his smile always lacks self-confidence (pg26.) his genuine opinion of himself is that he’s nothing special.

despite this, we see time and time again that he is a trusted and valued member of the Agency. in the Cannibalism arc, he was left to face the entirety of the Black Lizard all by himself, and prevailed. Even Hirotsu, a veteran of the Port Mafia and leader of the Black Lizard—a man who spends his days surrounded by the most skilled assassins Yokohama has to offer—said that Jun’ichirō was terrifying, and perfectly suited for assassination. this is only exemplified by the fact that he almost succeeded in killing Mori, thwarted only by Kōyō at the last second.

in A Day at the Detective Agency, it’s said that Kunikida needed the help of the best of the best, meaning Him and Naomi (pg 42.) but Jun’ichirō brushes this off, saying that Kunikida only wanted Naomi’s help, but the siblings had become a kind of package deal, and that’s why he was also recruited to help him.

this boy’s esteem is horrifically low, and he refuses to see his own worth, making every excuse there is just to call himself normal. (this is the reason why i honestly view him in A Day at the Detective Agency as a a bit of an unreliable narrator: his own self-perception leads to many false statements, all primarily centered around himself.)

however, we as the audience know that Jun’ichirō is not at all normal. the moment someone he cares for is put in harms way, a switch flips in his mind and he becomes an incredibly dangerous person who will stop at nothing to try and save them. we see this first in chapter four when Higuchi shoots Naomi.

this is also the mindset that he was in when he battled the Black Lizard and attempted to assassinate Mori in the Cannibalism arc, as well as when he faced off against John Steinbeck and H.P. Lovecraft. most recently, this is shown in chapter 117 when Jun’ichirō threatens to rip an actual God (Ame-no-gozen) limb from limb. (i’d add photos of the panels but i have a very limited amount of pictures that i can add!! sorry (′︿‵｡) )

this willingness to abandon any and all morals should his loved ones be put in harms way is a cornerstone of his entire character. So long as it preserves the lives of the members of the Agency, he will do anything. and that isn’t limited to just killing someone, either. without hesitation, he volunteered himself to be the one traded off to the Port Mafia the moment the possibility of Yosano going there was mentioned.

furthermore, in a Bungo Stray Dogs exhibition, Asagiri claimed that Jun’ichirō is the closest to “evil” out of everybody in the ADA (exhibition translation found here!!) (also, it’s so interesting that the translator put sister in quotations. there really has been hints all along!!) this excerpt discusses the scene where Jun’ichirō faced off against John Steinbeck and H.P. Lovecraft, and tricked an innocent trucker into hitting his enemy using his ability Light Snow, causing a crash that the trucker would not be able to escape from unharmed. he did all of this just to ensure the safety of Naomi.

in summary: Jun’ichirō views himself as an incredibly mediocre, insignificant person, and he will do absolutely anything if it means saving his loved ones.

Part Two — Naomi Tanizaki

(warning this analysis is not the kindest to Naomi. if you don’t wanna read that, stop now!!)

Naomi is based off of the main female lead of the irl Tanizaki’s work Naomi—a story where a man tries to turn 15 year old Naomi into a Westernized woman, but ends up getting manipulated by her instead when she changes the power dynamic between them. (there’s.. many aspects of Naomi that i believe impact BSD, but ahajjdkdka that’s for another post.)

Naomi is introduced as Jun’ichirō’s obsessed sister. she is shown to be all over him, touching him inappropriately in public and singing his praises. she’s clingy, and doesn’t leave his side once.

but, there’s a lot more to her if you look closely.

firstly, she is incredibly intelligent. In A Day at the Detective Agency, she conspired with Dazai to cheat her way into being the hostage and Jun’ichirō being the bomber during Atsushi’s entrance exam.

“Startled, [Jun’ichirō] looked over at Naomi, who gazed back at him teary-eyed.

“I just…”

[Jun’ichirō] could see the hearts pulsating in his sister’s eyes. She covered her slightly crimson cheeks with her long, delicate fingers, then said, “I just wanted…to be your hostage so you could tie me up and threaten me, my dear, sweet brother…”” (pg 51.)

then, in the main series, she nearly caught on to the significance of Haruno’s cat, Mii-chan.

keep in mind, she is not one of the detectives. she doesn’t have an ability, and she hasn’t been trailed by Natsume for years like Fukuzawa and Dazai have. despite all of this, she picked up on this weird correlation before even Haruno, his owner, did. and let’s not forget how surprised both Fukuzawa and Mori were at the reveal of Natsume being Mii-chan.

furthermore, in chapter 23, in which Steinbeck and Lovecraft hunt Haruno and Naomi down, it’s shown that she remembered exactly what Dazai told her in regards to how she should act in an emergency situation.

not only did she execute this advice near-perfectly, but she planned ahead in order to do so. in fact, if it weren’t for Steinbeck’s ability, they would have easily gotten away.

Haruno says that she would bet on Naomi outclassing Jun’ichirō as a detective, and i have to agree with her. in A Day at the Detective Agency, Naomi’s little plan that i mentioned earlier went off without a hitch. granted, it was likely Dazai who laid out all the steps, but she executed it without error and fooled both her brother and Kunikida.

Naomi is also a highly trusted employee, despite only working part-time (A Day at the Detective Agency, pg 25.) she’s very close with Fukuzawa, and i’d go so far as to say that she acts as a kind of personal assistant for him sometimes. in chapter 15, she is the only Agency employee present alongside Fukuzawa for the between the ADA and The Guild, a very high-stakes and confidential meeting. she is also the only person to think of getting Fukuzawa in chapter 10 when the rest of the employees are bickering about whether or not they can save Atsushi.

(manga panels provided by the amazing @shin--soukoku !! i wasn’t able to access the English translations of this chapter, and they came to my rescue. thank you!!! <3 go follow them they’re so cool and smart and correct about everything.)

in summary: Naomi is freakishly intelligent, and she’s not afraid to use her wits to manipulate a situation to her advantage. she’s well-respected in the Agency, and has the connections to influence others.

Part Three — Their Relationship

(in this part, i will be discussing topics like incest and sexual assault, harassment, and abuse. if that is at all too heavy or triggering for you, please stop reading immediately. take care of yourself, and stay safe <3)

alright, first things first, let’s establish something: these two are siblings. i’ve seen many people that they are not, but i have to disagree.

not only do they commonly refer to each other as brother and sister, but it’s also up in the air as to whether or not Naomi is even aware of their lack of blood-relation. furthermore, two siblings not sharing any DNA doesn’t make them not siblings. fostered, adopted, and step-siblings are still siblings, and as such i will continue to view the Tanizaki’s as siblings. they see each other as brother and sister, and so that is what they are. their relationship is incestuous.

it is also not consensual.

it is stately clearly several times that Jun’ichirō does not enjoy what Naomi does to him, especially when they are in public. here are just a few examples, taken from the A Day at the Detective Agency short story:

“To make matters worse, [Naomi] always tried to have some sort of physical contact with her brother, regardless of location or who was around…. [Jun’ichirō] would start acting self-conscious every time, and his eyes would wander, but Naomi even seemed to enjoy her brother’s reactions.” (pg 26)

“Naomi softly traced [Jun’ichirō]’s collarbone with her fingernail…. [Jun’ichirō] turned red and blinked uncomfortably.” (pg 26)

“[Naomi had] also taken that as an opportunity to try to force herself on [Jun’ichirō], but he managed to escape.” pg. 33

to clarify, the first two quotes take place in front of several of the other detectives, and the third when the two are alone. when it’s said that Jun’ichirō’s eyes were wandering, it was later specified that he was looking at anything but her (pg 27.)

throughout the manga, Jun’ichirō also expresses that he’s uncomfortable with her advances in public. however, whenever he tries to stop her, she threatens or embarrasses him. this is an example of that as seen in chapter 4.

Jun’ichirō, for lack of a better term, resigns himself to this. despite the severe discomfort of himself and everyone who bares witness to them, he makes very few moves to stop her.

the reason for this is stated clearly on page 54 of, you guessed it, A Day at the Detective Agency.

“The only thing [Jun’ichirō] really even wished for was his little sister’s happiness.”

he will do anything if it means making her happy.

Naomi and Jun’ichirō relationship is very realistic in the sense that one person leverages the other’s love against them, as is the case in many instances of incestuous sexual abuse. it’s an incredibly common manipulation tactic, and it results in the abuse lasting for extremely long periods of time.

Jun’ichirō’s willingness to do whatever it takes to make Naomi happy is the very thing she uses against him, weaponizing the love they have for each other so that she can do whatever she would like to him.

and i do think that the love they have for each other is real, to a degree. in my opinion, Jun’ichirō does not see her in either a romantic or sexual light, but he does love her. meanwhile, Naomi absolutely views Jun’ichirō in a sexual way.

in addition to this, i think there’s also a kind of limerence going on between both of them. limerence is when someone has an obsessive, unrequited attachment towards somebody, often surfacing as a romantic or sexual fixation on them, or as pedestalizing them.

Jun’ichirō’s seems to surface as the latter, as seen here in chapter 24.

he’s surpassed just placing her on a pedestal, he’s placed her on the same level as the divine, hence his continued willingness to let her assault and harass him time and time again, despite his own displeasure.

(i would like to further emphasize that the fact that Jun’ichirō loves and idolizes her does not make what she does to him okay. what we see within the manga and light novels can be defined as sexual harassment/assault. furthermore, it’s implied several times that they’ve had intercourse. due to Jun’ichirō’s own blatant discomfort, and the reoccurrences of her manipulating and using threats against him, and how it’s said that Naomi forces herself on him and forces him into doing things, i’m not afraid to call it rape. i just wanted to make it extra clear that despite exploring their characters, i am not excusing anything she does. Naomi is an abuser, and Jun’ichirō is her victim.)

the Tanizaki siblings’ relationship can be summed up as this: Jun’ichirō will let Naomi do anything, so long as it makes her happy, and Naomi takes continuous advantage of this facts.

a very common theme in Bungo Stray Dogs is that the cycle of abuse is not without love, and that you can harm someone you love without intending to, and that you can love someone who has harmed you. Dazai cared for Akutagawa, the Headmaster cared for Atsushi, both Kōyō and Akutagawa cared for Kyōka, and Verlaine cared for Chūya. each of these relationships explore different kinds of abuse—mentor-mentee, mother-daughter, father-son, brother-brother—and the love that is often trapped inside of them. it’s one of my favorite things about this entire series.

this is a topic i will dissect much deeper in my video essay (of which’s release date i am still unsure of at the moment,) but i wanted to mention it here at the end here because i think the Tanizaki siblings are a very good representation of this.

that’s all i have to stay about the siblings at the moment. i’m sorry if some points seem under-supported, i had to leave out a lot to bend around tumblr’s image-limit and to keep this shorter than i originally intended. also my bad for any and all spelling or grammar mistakes, i tried to fix everything but i usually miss some stuff!

thank you so so much for reading all of my rambling thoughts about the Tanizaki’s, and i highly encourage you to add on your own thoughts (agreeing or disagreeing, i’m open to all conversations!!) in either the reblogs, the notes, or my askbox!! i only ask that you be respectful about it, as this is just an analysis i did for fun in my own spare time（⌒▽⌒ゞ thank you all so much again for reading, i know this was a bit of a long one <3

[lara-cairncross]

I'm gonna dub myself babbling anon because I know I probably babble a lot. Anyway;

I was thinking about you AU and then I saw a picture of Draxum and thought about him being the pixie dust alchemist or a garden fairy, and then, when I thought about the pixie dust, I thought about the moon stone, which I'm getting off track about. Here are my questions! And sorry again.

1. Do you think any of the brothers would be selected in taking care of the Moonstone?

2. Has any of them been curious about the frost fairies? I'm sure Raph and Donnie has been part of the crews helping the animals cross and making the baskets respectively before.

3. Isn't it common for fairies to use mice to pull their wagons? Wouldn't it be awkward for Splinter to be just a rat?

4. Do you think April would be intrested in Pixue dust alchemy? In the series, she wanted to learn magic in witch town.

That's all my questions, so sorry for the new pile of them. But I also wanna tell you about things I thought about with characters like how Meat Sweats can be a baking fairy, i think that's what they are, and Mikey would drop by the baker fairies' workplace sometimes to watch (imagine Meat Sweats in tiny freaking wings that shouldn't hold him up but it does, haha) but I think I'm being too overwhelming and I should probably not be bothering about this but anyway, babbling again. Thank you for taking your time on this and sorry for wasting it too, haha.

First of all-- I LOVE the idea of Draxum as some kind of Pixie Dust alchemist!! I don't know if I'll ever get around to drawing that, but it's an excellent idea :DD Originally I was trying to figure out if I wanted Draxum or Big Mama to step into Queen Clarion's shoes, but now I'm leaning towards Big Mama as the Queen and Draxum as some kind of fairy alchemist on the lam!

I'm not sure if any of them would be selected, honestly? I mean, the only one who would really be chosen to create the scepter is Donnie-- and although he's talented, he and the rest of the boys are infamous in Pixie Hollow for being, like, SUPER reckless and adventurous! I don't think anyone would trust the four of them around a priceless artifact lmao

Raph definitely takes an interest in the frost fairies/the Winter Woods! He loves helping the animals cross over and seeing their pelts change color, but he does have to be careful-- not only because his wings can get damaged by the cold, but also because it's really easy for him to switch into brumation mode if he accidentally crosses the border. That'd be a disaster all around. Donnie doesn't really care about the frost fairies or the Winter Woods-- he has too much work to do back on his side of the border-- and Mikey doesn't like it over there at ALL, since it's much colder and cloudier!! He thrives off of warm temperatures and sunny skies :DD Leo would probably be pretty indifferent to the Winter Woods, but I can see him challenging himself to fly across the border and get back before his wings get damaged, just to test out how fast he can fly.

Man, I need to figure something out for Splinter. I honestly have no idea where he fits in here! Maybe he could take over Lord Milori's role in the Winter Woods? That could be a fun dynamic to play with when it comes between him, Big Mama, and the turtles :D

April would defffffffinitely be interested in all things related to magic/pixie dust/fairies in general. The turtles tell her all kinds of stories about Pixie Hollow and show off their magic to her, but I imagine that she'd always be sort of disappointed that she can't experience Neverland for herself-- not yet, at least.

Thanks for the questions, dearest babbling anon! They were fun to answer 😚🧡🧡