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devilsrecreation · 28 days ago

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Random Outlander interaction headcanons

So I basically gathered all the (canon) Outlanders, put their names on a wheel, and whichever two characters it landed on, I made a hc about them and the results are….interesting

Nduli and Dogo:

Lmao they’d probably bond over being the cute ones in their respective groups. Goigoi brings Dogo along to hang out and he finds out he’s got a lot in common with a crocodile: they’re both the youngest, they both look innocent, their leaders/parents are friends…kinda, they look on the bright side of things, sisi ni sawa! Imagine Dogo teaching Nduli how to do those puppy eyes he’s famous for

Imagine it actually manages to work on Kiburi 💀

Kiburi: I said no.

Nduli: Please? 🥺

Kiburi: *sighs* Fine, but just this one time….

Mzingo and Neema:

Despite Mzingo not knowing the crocodiles all that well, I can see Mzingo actually understanding Neema since he picked up on the native animal tongues during the Dry Season. He’s now fluent in hyena, jackal, lizard, possibly serpent (?), and you guessed it-crocodilian. He’s actually very impressed with how intelligent Neema is, so now the two of them have these intellectual discussions that Mzingo doesn’t get to have with anyone else except for his parliament. Really opens his eyes in a way

Cheezi and Kiburi:

Ah yes, friends through other friends lol. I feel like the moment the two have a conversation, Cheezi sees exactly why Kiburi and Janja are BFF’s while Kiburi sees why Cheezi and Nduli get along. I can see Kiburi getting annoyed at Cheezi trying to ride on his back while Cheezi laughs at how much Kiburi reminds him of Janja

Imagine Cheezi telling stories about Janja so Kiburi could get to know him better. Cute for the both of them, Janja…not so much

Goigoi and Ushari:

Oh that is a weird combo jghfh. I feel like Goigoi would annoy Ushari the very few times they met. He used to ask so many dumb questions like “What’s it like havin no limbs?”, “How do you eat?”, “How do ya hang out with things smaller than you and not squish ‘em?”

Ushari: I don’t have time for this. I need to talk to the skinks…

Goigoi: Speakin’ of skinks, why does that red one call you “babygirl”?

Ushari: How about you ssstop talking.

It’s no better now that he’s a ghost lmao. Goigoi’s trying to find something he’s good at and it’s like

Ushari: You fool, you’re not supposed to—Goigoi, what are you doing?!

Goigoi (to himself cuz he can’t hear Ushari): If I mix the paint with the honey, it’ll stay on quicker! Heeheehee! Goigoi ya really done it this time!

Ushari: No no no, you’re going to get *sees Goigoi struggling* Ssssstuck….

What is this, what fanfic am I creating-

Wema and Sumu:

Sumu doesn’t really like kids, so he has no idea what to make of this little child who started trying to play with him like it was nothing. Wema likes Sumu, she thinks he’s a cute little bug who likes making silly faces (in reality, he’s trying to see if she’ll become scared of him so she’ll leave him alone)

Sumu: *makes a scary face, hissing*

Wema: 😄

Sumu: ….What

Nduli and Jasiri:

See, the first thing I’m thinking of is @spinnysocks ‘s mjuzi AU and ig all mjuzis are friends with their rulers but I wonder what it’d be like in my own hc?

I think they’d be good friends. Nduli is the first of Kiburi’s float to give Jasiri a chance and helps her get to know the float better. In return, Jasiri probably encourages Nduli to stand up for himself a bit more. She knows he’s always following Kiburi around but “Nobody’s perfect. Everyone’s bound to make a mistake and when someone does, they should know what they’re doing wrong”. Come to think of it, Jasiri’s advice was the reason Nduli finally stood up to Kiburi and got him to change for the better. She even encouraged him to become a detective, seeing how fairly intelligent he was. She told him he could put some of the facts he knew to good use and he did!

Shupavu and Jasiri:

#Girlbosses lol. I think Shupavu would warm up to Jasiri first after she becomes ruler. As soon as she agrees to respect the circle of life again, Jasiri probably makes some sassy remark about some of the other Outlanders and Shupavu’s like “Hmm, I like you~”. I can see Jasiri laughing at whatever gossip Shupavu tells her, not to mention they realize they have more in common than they thought: They’re both smart, strong, independent female leaders who would do anything for their respective groups cuz they’re the only family they have (which is a trait practically all the leaders share but still).

Related hc, actually: one of the first rules Jasiri makes is that the skinks are not allowed to be hunted by other animals within the Outlands, which is the thing that gains Shupavu’s trust

Janja and Madoa:

It’s kinda funny how much I ship Janja and Jasiri, but never once thought about what his friendship with Madoa would be like. I know they’d definitely start off on the wrong paw, you know, with Scar’s army and all that. But I can see them bonding over Jasiri and eventually getting along. Janja could ask Madoa about the things Jasiri likes cuz no one knows her better than her sister while Madoa could maybe get Janja to be a better listener. Not to mention, they could definitely talk about Nne together, though Janja would be like “Nne’s a jerk, you can do better”

Tano and Nne (oh that’s way too easy lol what are the odds):

I’ve mentioned this before but I’ll say it again cuz I love me some background, the two met when Nne was cornered by a couple of older hyena cubs (think preteens while Nne and Tano were like…9-10 maybe) who were teasing him cuz of his birthmark. That was until they heard a “Ah, leave him alone!”. Cue a back and forth where the older cubs try to bully Tano as well, only for them to end up getting roasted by a child. Two, actually cuz that gives Nne the confidence to clap back too! The minute the bullies do come up with a good insult/comeback, their parents witness them and drag them by the ears. The two introduced themselves afterward and the rest was history

Chungu and Nne:

I like to think while Nne views Chungu as an idiot and calls him as such, he still apologized to him and Cheezi after the events of “Janja’s New Crew”. He may be a dumbass, but he has to admit Chungu helped him get through some tough times so he’s a bit nicer to him than Tano is. I can even see Chungu comforting him after his and Tano’s plan failed like “that’s okay, the lion guard roars at me and Cheezi too!”. Sweet boy :3

Jasiri and Njano:

….Jasiri likes working with the skinks, doesn’t she, lmao? They like each other, Njano’s grateful that Jasiri was the only one actually willing to help them for once and Jasiri appreciates how Njano was the first of the skinks to reform. Not to mention Njano makes her laugh. He’s like Cheezi, only smarter in her opinion lol. Maybe they even share a brain cell sometimes!

Jasiri: Thanks for giving me a chance

Njano: Thanks for not letting us get eaten :)

Madoa and Sumu:

Ah yes, the unlikely friends lol. I imagine that Madoa was the reason Sumu wanted to become a healer in the first place. He saw how much happiness and comfort she was giving a random member of her clan and he decided he wanted to help animals instead of harm them

Madoa’s one of the few animals that didn’t scream or run away when she saw Sumu (though she did get startled at first), instead showing him kindness and was happy to mentor him in healing. While she had no idea if an arachnid was capable of being a healer, she was nothing but nice and patient towards him. And while Madoa taught Sumu about different herbs and remedies, he taught her how to stand up for herself (as she’s a bit of a pushover). He’s even given her a couple pointers about romance when she revealed her crush on Nne. Yeah, he has a soft spot for her :)

Shupavu and Goigoi:

Lmao if Ushari doesn’t like Goigoi, Shupavu doesn’t like Goigoi jfgjfh. She likes Reirei, she considers her a friend, but she has no idea how the hell she fell for such an idiot; like she cannot comprehend how you could fall in love with someone so dumb😭. Yet, poor Goigoi can’t take the hint. It’s not your fault Goigoi, she just can’t deal with stupid

Janja and Shupavu:

Oh look, the Outlander Shupavu hates the most. They literally have no respect for each other whatsoever. I think each of them even go out of their way to disrespect the other. I swear their rivalry would be something out of Tom and Jerry or Looney Tunes with the insults and the mini chase scenes nfhhdhd

That is until Janja and the skinks get trapped in a cave and have to find their way out…

Janja and Sumu:

Oh, well this one’s totally canon. Janja is and probably will always be terrified of Sumu. Sumu, being used to all the fear directed at him, is pretty indifferent and at most just rolls his eyes. Other than that, he’s cordial. Though I like to think Sumu takes care of Janja’s wound at some point and that makes him a little less scared of the arachnid (although he still creeps him out lol)

Wema and Shupavu:

Shupavu (well none of the skinks sans Njano, really) isn’t that good with kids, but I like to think she warms up to Wema a bit, seeing how sweet the cub is. I like to think Wema gives Shupavu a caterpillar she caught and Shupavu was like “For me? Hm, you’re not so bad.”

Ushari and Dogo:

They haven’t interacted much when he was alive other than exchanging polite greetings, but I like to think he indirectly helps Dogo as much as he does for Wema and Tunu, like dropping small rocks on Janja’s head when he’s acting cold towards him. Ushari likes the pup better than his dad lol that’s for sure

Kenge and Nne:

Honestly, Kenge would tolerate Nne more than he does Janja, Chungu, and Cheezi. Not a fan of the snark, but the hyena at least knows how to watch his mouth. I like to imagine Nne sprinkling compliments here and there just to keep himself on Kenge’s good side. He brags to the others that “we’re obviously not besties or anything, but we’re cool! …We’re cool, right?”

Kenge: Yes hyena, you’re not bad.

Nne: See? I’m not so bad! Maybe because I follow directions, right bud?

Kenge: Don’t push it

Nne: Gotcha.

Tunu and Kijana:

I can see them being besties! Maybe Tunu even looks up to her in a way, with her usually the one that comes up with plans. They both tend to think things through

Kiburi and Neema:

Kiburi and Neema definitely share the same/similar opinions and ideas, hence why they’re good friends. Being the only other smart one, Kiburi trusts Neema to watch over his float whenever he has to go to a meeting, which Neema appreciates since it means Kiburi appreciates his intelligence and responsibility. Also in my Neema-centered hc (aka his double life as a phantom), Kiburi eventually sees how much Neema loves music and lets him keep being a phantom, even if he personally isn’t a fan of the concept. As long as Neema is still part of the float (which he is), he’s free to have his own identity. Just….don’t make him sing lol

As for what Neema does to Kiburi, well he’s that friend you go to whenever you want to rant and supports you no matter what and that’s all Kiburi needs

#*panting* okay…i think that’s it for now #i was not expecting to write paragraphs but my mind just started rambling hhhhh #part 2 coming soon #cuz boy were these fun to think about #mzingo and neema’s friendship is something i didn’t expect but it’s kinda cute #also not goigoi annoying ushari tho hfhfhfg #tlg outlanders #headcanons #the lion guard #damn long post

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liz-allyn · 2 years ago

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sugar and vice, pt. 17 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: time for a reckoning.

words: 9.5k

chapter warning: angst. bitter feelings.. description of a shooting.

series warnings: mob-typical violence, bang bang shoot shoot, whomp. hurt/comfort. s*xu*l situations. spousal ab^se. family trauma. dr^g use. coercion. manipulation. kidnapping. gore. blood. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. ‘only ten one bed oops’ trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. extremely toxic relationships.

This version of TASM Peter is not canon. The relationships and characters here are not healthy.

Don't date a mob boss.™️

18+ You’re responsible for your own media consumption, but if you don't remember when TVs were square, you should not be here.

Back to Part 16.

Part 17

Twelve hours after she last saw Peter, she emerged from her bedroom for the first time. It was already past lunchtime, but she didn’t have much of an appetite. Wearing a comfortable athleisure set with a soft fleece half-zip pullover (with plenty of pockets), she took only a glance down the hallway at Peter’s door. The door to the primary bedroom was closed, shrouded in shadow.

“If you’re lookin’ for ‘em, he’s not here,” a feminine voice called from downstairs. It was Felicia.

Honey followed the sound and padded down the stairs to see the other woman standing next to Rex’s terrarium. With her long, silver hair flowing down her back, she leaned down and curiously watched Rex chase after a tiny swarm of crickets. Her eyes were focused with morbid curiosity, tongue poking slightly out of her lip as she studied how the lizard moved. He darted around in the blink of an eye, gobbling up the tiny insects and crushing them in his jaws. He was so much faster when he had something to hunt.

“Didn’t know you were here,” Honey said, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. “Got a meeting or something?”

“Nah, I’m on my lunch break,” she smirked. “Mafia stuff works up an appetite.” She straightened her back and let out a long sigh. “Wanna go do somethin’?”

Her brow furrowed. “What?”

“Well,” Felicia explained, “I was thinkin’ we could hang out. Just us girls. Get some lunch. Go get our nails done. Do some shopping. Stop by the hospital and snap a few x-rays?”

Honey’s shoulders slumped, her face falling flat. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Felicia replied teasingly. “I heard you almost took a flaming bumper to the face. Pretty close call. Then again, I’ve had worse dates, though—”

“What did Peter tell you?” Honey asked sharply, her lips pressed together.

Felicia furrowed her brows. “All he told me was that you should probably see a doctor,” she frowned, disappointed at the hostility. “Nothin’ else.”

Honey rolled her eyes. “You ever get tired of doing what he tells you to do?”

Felicia blinked her long plush lashes several times, then replied calmly. “I’m not here because he told me to be. I’m here because I thought you needed a friend.” Honey swallowed hard, glancing away toward the bright windows and letting the light burn her eyes. “But if that’s not something you need right now, I get that too. Just say so.”

She sighed, and when she faced Felicia again, her eyes were red-rimmed. A lump settled in her throat, and her voice was a weak murmur. “It’s not the pain that bothers me. It’s the fear.”

She bit down on her jaw to steady it, attempting to ward off tears with her loathing. She looked over at Felicia to see the woman watching her patiently, brows pinched together with concern.

“For a second there, I thought I was gonna die,” she explained grimly. “I saw the flash... and I felt the heat— and I-I thought I was already dead.” Her eyes misted over, and she brought the back of her hands up to rub them angrily. She sniffed. “I was going to die and couldn’t do anything about it. I’d rather break every bone in my body than feel that again. I’d rather die, th-than feel...”

She couldn’t finish the sentence, biting down on her tongue. She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. She flung out a million curse words in her brain, admonishing herself for crying in front of Felicia. Self-loathing bubbled up in her chest. A cruel, bitter chuckle escaped her throat as she reminisced over her suggestion to ‘embrace her power.’ It was a joke to think she had anything of the sort.

“Helpless,” Felicia supplied solemnly.

Honey glanced up at her. Blinking with surprise, she observed how the other woman held herself. Arms crossed tight in front of her chest. Whatever difficulty Honey had with eye contact, Felicia had it worse. The taller woman pressed her lips together, grimacing.

When the two women finally met each other’s eyes, Honey was perplexed. It wasn’t pity on Felicia’s face—not like she’d feared. Instead, there was a painful solidarity between them.

As Honey opened her mouth to speak, Felicia strode up to her, arms extended. Then, too quickly and perhaps too awkwardly, the taller woman hunched down and pulled her into a tight embrace.

Honey gasped at the action. She was hugging her. Honey wasn’t tall enough to place her chin on Felicia’s shoulder. Instead, she leaned into the hug, resting her chin against her clavicle.

Awkward as it was, it was a very pleasant hug. The smaller woman returned it as best she could, despite the throbbing ache in her side. At that moment, she could look past that pain and allow herself to feel the embrace.

Felicia gave good hugs, she decided.

Tears welled up in Honey’s eyes, and she allowed herself to feel those, too.

Thirty-six hours after she last saw Peter, she curiously poked her head into the empty primary bedroom to see it untouched. Sheets were pristine and smoother than glass. His toothbrush and toiletries were missing from the bathroom.

Peter had granted her wish. Both of them—it appeared, including the request she made before their shoot-out at the arcade. She wanted space, and now she had it.

Not only had Peter not made an appearance, but every faceless guard had strangely vacated the penthouse. It was quiet in the morning haze. Peaceful.

She spent the day alone with Rex on her shoulder. They found plenty of things to do. After all, they were in a million-dollar home. They had endless hours of TV to watch. They had access to a full home gym (which she hadn’t bothered to enter until now and wasn’t going to while icing a hairline-fractured rib, no matter what Rex said about accountability). She had a library of beloved novels to read, a heated infinity pool on the roof, and a $5,000 coffee maker.

What more could she possibly need?

Thirty-seven hours after Peter, she noticed no more lights coming from the camera in her bedroom. Or in the hall. Or in the primary bedroom, or the great hall, or the terrace entrance, or the kitchen, or anywhere else she looked.

Thirty-eight hours after Peter.

Thirty-nine hours after Peter.

Forty hours after Peter.

Forty-six hours after Peter, she tucked herself into the covers of her own bed. She was exhausted, and the doctor-prescribed 4-6 hour pain medication had worn off.

She embraced the pain like it was her child. It was grounding and balanced the self-righteous anger that burned in her chest.

Peter wasn’t coming back tonight. It’s probably best, she thought.

He’s probably fucking someone else, she thought.

Probably best.

The third day without Peter brought a pleasant surprise. Hearing a knock at the front door, she rushed into the foyer with Rex on her shoulder. The knock itself was odd since no one ever knocked. No one asked for her permission to enter. The place wasn’t ‘hers’ to grant people entry to. Or was it?

Curiously, she pulled the door open, and her heart filled with joy. “Miles!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around the teen. Rex skittered around almost up on her head, displeased with the lack of personal space.

“Hey,” he chuckled, surprised as he returned the embrace, “whassup? I mean, I know I’m a sight for sore eyes, but—”

Grinning wide, she pulled back. “Hell yeah, you are! I’ve missed you so much! How are you? What are you doing here? What have you been up to?”

“Whoooaa,” he replied, hands outstretched. “We’ll get to all that later. First, can I come in?”

Honey flexed a brow. “Can you—you’re asking me?”

“I was asking Rex, but he doesn’t have thumbs.”

She blinked, stunned. “Ye-yeah, sure. Come in!”

“Cool! Alright, second thing—I’m hungry.”

Honey and Miles sat together on the floor in the TV room with empty boxes of Filipino takeout around them. Miles took the last lumpia roll after Honey insisted that she was stuffed. She had yet to learn where the skinny kid was putting all the food.

They spent several hours catching up on the latest teenage drama. Miles did most of the talking. He filled her ears with everything from his college applications, an opportunity he received to paint a mural at a local Boys and Girls Club, to the pretty girl he ran into (literally) while leaving a bodega. She was amused and engaged—and overall honored that he would share his stories with her and allow her to be a sounding board. She lamented not being able to do the same with her sisters.

On her part, Honey didn’t have much to say about her recent experiences, nor did she really want to. However, a question kept prickling the back of her mind.

“So. Um.” She cleared her throat, wiping her hands with a napkin as the hour grew late. “Have you, um, talked to Peter lately?”

Miles pressed his lips together, glancing at her briefly before his eyes fell to the ground. “Nah. Not directly.” Several moments of silence passed. “Haven’t seen ‘em since—” He bit his tongue. “For a while.”

She hummed in acknowledgment. “Probably a good idea,” she said.

Another pause. Miles watched her curiously. “I miss him.”

A bitter laugh she couldn’t contain burst from her lips. “I can’t imagine why.”

He raised a brow. “He’s not a bad person.”

She turned towards him accusingly. “How can you say that? You know what he is.” She connected the memory of Miles storming out of the penthouse after accusing him of being ‘on something,’ and the horrifying picture of Peter sticking a needle in his arm and becoming—something else. “You’ve seen what he’s done.”

“I have,” Miles nodded knowingly, although his tone didn’t suggest that he agreed with her. He shifted his position and gazed down at his shoes, losing himself in thought. “I’m worried about him, y’know.”

Honey rolled her eyes. “Miles. Seriously. You need to worry about yourself.” She connected with his eyes, imploring. “Peter is dangerous. The life he lives is dangerous. You need to stay as far away from him as you can.”

Miles fixed his gaze on her, studying her reaction. “I’ve known Peter since I was a kid.”

“You still are a kid—”

“I mean it,” he declared. Honey observed the resolve in his expression and silenced herself, allowing him to speak without interruption. “I’ve seen him when things are bad, yeah. But I’ve also seen him at his best. There’s good and bad in him. In everybody.”

Sighing, Honey listlessly nodded. “Two wolves. I know. I know.”

Another long silence filled the air, prompting her to look over at him. There was a darkened expression in his eyes, mouth in a tight line, as he gazed at the wall.

“Did I tell you I almost went to jail?” he asked. A crease formed between her eyebrows. She shook her head in confusion. “Yeah,” he added, nodding sadly. A dark cloud rested over him. “It was, um—It was a few years ago. Not long after my mom got hurt.” He crossed his arms tightly. “It was when we moved from Brooklyn. Things sucked that first year. I was in a school I didn’t like. Didn’t have any friends. My dad had to start dropping me off at the front because I didn’t want to go. It was embarrassing.”

The slightest glimmer of amusement tweaked his eye, and Honey grasped at it with a warm smile. Then, just as quickly as the light appeared, it went out again like a flame in the wind.

“I got into fights a lot,” Miles said without pride. “I was angry, y’know? A lot.”

With solemn eyes, she bit her lip, nodding. Violence was still somewhat new to her, at least from the perpetrating side. Anger she knew intimately.

“Everyone tried to talk to me about it. My counselors at school told my dad that I needed to see a therapist. But how was I supposed to talk to anybody? I couldn’t even tell them who I was, or what happened—”

His voice clipped. He swallowed hard. Her brows furrowed with concern as she watched tears well in his eyes.

“This one day, I don’t know. I lost it. I was walking home from school, and this kid from my class saw me. He was older than me, like 17 or something. This dude... sucked. Just not cool. Always messin’ with me. But on this day, I-I guess I wasn’t havin’ none of it. And I hit him. He went down, just one hit.” A smirk formed on his face. “It felt kinda good to shut him up.”

His half-smile faded, eyes darkening. “And then I hit him again. He was on the ground, and I-I just couldn’t stop.”

His voice was wracked with shame. Honey reached out and grabbed his hand, wrapping her fingers tightly around his.

“Next thing I know, I feel hands pulling me off,” he swallowed dryly. “I’m tryin’ to fight all of ‘em. I don’t know, I guess I thought— Like, I was back there? Where they took me.”

Tears welled in her eyes, as she sadly nodded with understanding.

“I kept fighting. Everyone. I wanted to hurt everyone—”

“Miles,” she said, heart aching. “None of that was your fault. You were probably having a flashback, you weren’t yourself—”

“Let me finish.”

She silenced herself, stowing her pity.

“Pete was the one that stopped me. He stopped me. He hugged me. Told me to go home. So I did what he said. When the cops came, they weren’t lookin’ for me. They were looking for him. He told them that he was the one who beat up that kid. Said he was a punk that needed a lesson.”

She sat motionlessly, stewing over the information. Miles looked up at her. “He took the fall for me. I asked him why. He saved my life, he got my family outta New York. Why do more than that? He said he believed in me. He saw what I did and believed I could be better than that. But if I had a record, no one was going to see past that.” His voice sounded tenser, stretched thin with emotion. “He saw me at my worst, and still—he tried to protect me. All he’s ever done since he got me outta that warehouse is try to protect me. Protect the people he cares about.”

Honey glanced away, her brows furrowed. Then, gently, she replied, “I understand why you feel that way, Miles. But he’s not just doing all this to protect us. He’s not keeping us safe.”

“Nah,” Miles nodded, shrugging with a half-smile. “Pete does what he does because he’s crazy. He’s messed up. Seriously.” She smirked back for a moment, the gesture failing to reach her eyes. “But I love ‘em, too. He’s family. That’s what families are for.”

Her heart cracked at his admission. She felt an overwhelming sense of pity for the teen. He was so pure. So naive.

Carefully choosing her words, she gently replied, “Miles, I’m not sure you fully realize what Peter’s capable of.”

He nodded, then said, “I am, though. He saved my life. That’s what he’s capable of.” He added thoughtfully. “That’s the Peter Parker I believe in. The kinda guy that’s gonna make a good dad someday.”

She observed him quietly, biting her tongue. The image of Peter holding a baby branded itself into her brain. She pictured him taking a hike near the mountain retreat with a small child sitting on his shoulders.

Was Peter a boy dad or a girl dad?

He was great with Miles in the moments that she saw them together. Peter had a knack for teaching. He gushed with enthusiasm when he’d explain a concept to Miles, whether nuclear fusion or chemical bonds. He made it sound interesting—even to her.

She could imagine Peter taking his boy by the hand and guiding him through the woods. Through adolescence. Struggling with the need to show them the world and all of its wonder and simultaneously wanting to shield him from it.

Then Honey remembered how Bella clung to Peter at her mom’s apartment. The child tugged on his pant leg, and he’d crouch down to meet her eyes. He didn’t patronize her when he spoke to her. He gave her his undivided attention, and Bella lit up inside to have it.

The memory of Bella pierced her heart, leaving a pang in her chest. “I don’t know about that,” Honey replied to Miles, her tone darker. “This is the same guy who has my niece hidden in a bunker somewhere.”

When she glanced over, Miles stared at her like she’d grown an extra arm. “What are you talking about?”

She sighed, eyes misty. “My niece, Bella. I miss her so much. Peter has her hidden somewhere, and he won’t tell me where.” Her brows furrowed in pain. “She’s just a baby.”

Miles blinked at her. Several times. “It’s not safe to know.”

She groaned with frustration. “Yeah, so I’ve heard.”

“No, you don’t get it. Peter can’t tell you where she is because he doesn’t know. No one does. That’s the whole point.”

Her head snapped towards him, eyes wide. “What?”

He shifted his body around, turning his shoulders towards her. “Only one person knows where your family is, and they’re not talking.”

She gazed at him, perplexed.

“They’re not gonna say anything.” He wore a knowing look. She stared at him, her mind spinning. When she opened her mouth to speak, Miles raised his hand, silencing her. “That’s enough heavy stuff for one night. Let’s get back to the game.”

With that, he turned towards the OLED panel in the room and grabbed one of the two Nintendo controllers next to them. Waking up the Switch, he navigated to a new screen, pulling up a character selection.

“I got Bowser this time. You wanna be Yoshi again?”

Honey stared at him, deeply confused. Miles turned to her, picking up the controller and putting it in her hands when she didn’t reply. “C’mon, we gotta get started. My neighbor’s gonna play us online.” He poked her in the arm to get her attention, then nudged his head towards the Mario Kart selection screen.

Confused, she glanced over at the characters. There was a Third Player.

“Cat Peach,” Honey said, staring at the Third Player’s character selection. “Bella loves Princess Peach.” When she looked back at Miles, he was a brick wall. Complete silence. Face neutral. Staring straight ahead at the TV screen, waiting for Honey to pick.

She curled her brow upwards, glancing at Miles, then back to the Third Player. Tears welled in her eyes as she observed the avatar on the screen. Her niece’s avatar. Her niece. Miles’ neighbor. Miles—mostly likely with his father’s help—had hid Bella and the rest of her family.

Tears flowed down her cheeks as she turned back to Miles, her jaw agape. He avoided looking straight at her, taking a sip of his third Mountain Dew. “C’mon now. Some of us have an early bedtime.”

One week after she last saw Peter, another surprise guest appeared. Because Felicia had been by every day, that’s who she expected to find at the door. Honey gasped with delight when she saw who it really was.

With twinkling eyes and hands deep in the pockets of his hoodie, Eddie smiled back. “If it isn’t Nancy Reagan.”

They spent the next half-hour catching up. Honey profusely apologized—unnecessarily—to him for being the cause of another fallout. He rejected her apology—repeatedly— but accepted her offering of two-thirds of a strawberry cheesecake.

Honey eventually got around to addressing the splinter under her skin.

“So. Did Peter send you here to spy on me?” she asked, unsure if she wanted the answer.

“Nope.” He shook his head. She couldn’t help the strange way her heart sank at his answer. Eddie peered at her suspiciously. “But it would be nice to know what you want me to tell ‘em when he inevitably asks about you.”

She pressed her lips together, eyes suddenly interested in the granite of the countertop. She wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say. She wasn’t even sure of what she wanted.

After an hour passed, Eddie explained that he was sent to the penthouse for a reason. To deliver a package.

Her eyes bulged, heart tripping, as he handed her a smartphone. The only thing that kept her from fainting was that the device was much smaller than the one she was hiding in her pocket. A model at least ten years old. It had a simple case with one of those artist-drawing stickers. A red spider. She looked up at him, eyes full of confusion.

“For emergencies,” Eddie said, shoving his hands back in his pockets. “You’re a big girl. I’m sure you’ll be fine. But just in case.”

Three weeks after she last saw Peter, she reached for the spider phone for the first time.

It was shortly after lunchtime at a chic, New American restaurant off of West 51st, adorned with a crystal chandelier, neon lights, and lush botanicals. Honey and Felicia were seated at the bar finishing up lunch (and a bottle of champagne) when the silver-haired woman excused herself to the restroom.

Being left alone was no longer strange. In the past three weeks, Honey had experienced more freedom than she had in the last four months of living with Peter Parker. She was permitted to travel wherever she pleased. Just as long as she had the emergency phone. And guards to scope the area ahead of time and transport her. And Felicia or Miles as an escort. It didn’t feel like she was being escorted. After three weeks of lonely days in the penthouse, she longed for companionship.

After the incident at the arcade, she tried to stay vigilant when left alone. But when she looked up to see Felicia return to the bar, a strange man sat on her stool instead.

She’d never seen him before. He was at least sixty, but the expression lined in deep trenches on his long face made him appear centuries older. The scent of stale cigarettes enveloped him. With graying, auburn-sand hair and intense eyes that seemed to radiate disappointment, he fixed a hard gaze on her.

“I know who you are,” he quietly declared in a bitter tone.

Every muscle in her body froze, and she fought the urge to scream for help. Instead, she kept one hand on the bar near her nearly-empty plate, resting over her steak knife.

He glanced down at her hands, unimpressed, and he gave her a sardonic smirk. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help.”

She remained nothing more than a statue, lips pressed tightly together.

“More importantly, I know who you’ve been with.”

She swallowed hard. Eyes wide, she flicked them cautiously toward the corridor Felicia had disappeared through as violent images filled her mind. The food began to creep up her esophagus.

She shook her head. “I-I don’t know what you—”

“Don’t lie,” he sneered, light as a feather, while his eyes screamed in a fury. “I know you’re Peter Parker’s new girl.”

Her heart thrummed in her throat. She opened her mouth.

“If you make a scene, I’ll throw Miss Hardy into a jail cell so deep under this city she’ll be in New Amsterdam,” he glowered. Honey snapped her mouth shut while piercing sirens rang out in her head. “Did I mention I’m a cop?” he added with a cruel casualness.

She felt dizzy, her heart sinking in her chest. Her brain ping-ponged between John Walker, and Wilson Fisk, and whoever planted the car bomb, and the corrupt officers that cut down Peter’s aunt and uncle in a spray of bullets.

A long list of enemies. And by the look in this man’s eye, he wanted to be at the very top.

“My name is George Stacy,” he muttered, eyes dark. “Peter Parker killed my daughter.”

Something inside her shattered as she connected the distraught rage emanating from the man seated next to her to the angelic face in Peter’s photo box.

“Did he tell you about her? Did he tell you about Gwen?” His voice made a sound like glass breaking as he said her name. Grief and anger swirled in the blue depths of his eyes. A deep crease formed between Honey’s brows.

“Excuse me.” Felicia’s biting tone caught their attention. “You’re in my seat.” They looked over to see the silver-haired woman glaring daggers at the older man, fearless in her stance. Honey had never felt so envious of her courage in her life.

George fixed her with a disgusted sneer. “Well, well. If it isn’t the Black Cat. Parker’s still your favorite place to sharpen your claws, isn’t he?”

Felicia didn’t flinch, crossing her arms. “Aww, Georgie. Didn’t know we were already at pet names. Get out of my chair.”

Anxiously, Honey glanced back and forth between the two heavyweights. George stared up at her through narrow eyes. “You’re lucky I don’t throw cuffs on you right here,” he said.

Felicia rolled her eyes. “Kinky. Got probable cause?”

“You’re a thief who gets on her knees for a murderer.” He side-eyed Honey. “You both are.”

“I don’t really like your accusations, Georgie,” Felicia snarked. “‘Specially the criminal kind. Got proof?”

George’s jaw clenched. His eyes were black with rage.

“Didn’t think so,” Felicia answered, then turned to Honey. “How ‘bout we get outta here? I’m sure Georgie here can settle our tab.”

The man suddenly came to a stand, his full height bringing him to eye level with her. “You disrespectful little smartass.” He leaned in close, pouring venom into her ear. “You’re trash. Standing behind a man who pushed his wife off the Brooklyn Bridge. She was going to leave him! And he killed her for it.”

Wild-eyed, George turned to face Honey. “Y’know what she looked like when they pulled her body from the river?” His eyes welled with tears as he ground his teeth together. “Y’know what she looked like when I had to identify her? I couldn’t do it! The fall crushed every bone in her face!”

“That’s enough,” Felicia declared with a cold tone. “We’re leaving.”

She took Honey by the shoulder, guiding her from the bar. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks once they stepped out into the frosty air.

“You’re protecting a monster!” George shouted after them, his voice, heart, and soul obliterated.

Honey was quiet in the back of the car as they sped home.

“Was he telling the truth?” Honey asked with a mouse-like whimper, unsure if she wanted the answer. Unsure if she wanted Felicia to lie.

The woman’s gaze darted over, appearing shocked even behind the giant, black lenses of her Givenchy sunglasses. “Are you kiddin’ me?” Felicia snapped with indignation. “Of course not!” The woman sounded offended at the accusation.

Honey stared at her in silence, trying to decide which version of the truth she wanted to believe.

Twenty-three days after Peter, Honey sat across from Miles at a bistro table in front of a streetside cafe. To her right sat Bella—wearing a princess dress. Delightful as she sketched out a cat on a piece of paper. Black crayon was smeared everywhere. Miles leaned over, giving her pointers on her cat drawing, showing her his sketch of a spider.

Honey wanted to say something. She really did. But couldn’t find the words.

She couldn’t speak.

Her eyes filled with terror as she recognized the tall figure stalking towards the table, wielding a shotgun in his hands.

She couldn’t scream.

John walked up to the table, pointed the shotgun at Miles’ chest, and fired.

When she awoke, she was screaming. Her chest landed hard against a warm, firm body. Her mouth was open and dry, and her eyes were clouded with nightfall, and her throat was raw, her skin sweaty, and her face was wet with tears.

“It’s okay! You’re okay! You’re okay. It was a dream. I gotcha.”

She shuddered with relief, her heart still racing with terror. She gasped in short breaths, grounded only by the warmth on her chest, the sturdy oak branches around her body, and the soothing hum of Peter Parker’s voice.

“Shh, s’okay,” he cooed at her.

Honey buried her face in Peter’s neck, full-body sobs overtaking her. She squeezed his shoulders tight, digging her fingers into the fibers of his shirt. The scent of cinnamon and cedar filled her nostrils. Like some magic spell had been cast, she felt her muscles melt, cradled in the warmth of his hold.

“It’s okay,” Peter whispered, rocking her gently. “You’re safe. You’re okay.”

Another cry ripped through her chest at the idea. “M’not,” she stuttered over hiccups. “I’m not okay. Nothing is okay...”

She felt his fingers glide down her spine, smoothing down the tank top on her back. He softly replied, his breath tickling her ear, “It was just a bad dream—”

She was incoherent, crumpling in a pile of broken ‘no’s’ and ‘I can’ts’ and ‘I’m sorrys’ and ‘it's my faults.’ He chased away the shadows, his fingertips alternating between rubbing her back and running through her hair.

“‘S’not your fault, Honey,” Peter murmured, resolve in his voice. “None of this is your fault...”

Trembling with tears, she pulled away slowly. Hesitantly, Peter released his grip, handling her like an origami flower left out in the rain.

The scruff of his beard had grown back in, and he wore a black pullover sweater that made him appear soft and gentle in a way she was unused to. She looked up at the golden-flecked, whiskey hue of his concerned gaze. Her own eyes were bloodshot and bleary. Her heart swelled and ached at the sight of him. Distressed, his eyes flitted over her face.

The spell wore off. As soon as Honey’s body heat left Peter’s hold, they both mourned the loss. He dropped his gaze to the comforter, his cheeks flushed disconcertedly.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, pulling his fingers away from her. “M’sorry, I-I wasn’t tryin’ to—I wasn’t watching you or anything.”

His eyes darted around, hands fretting. “Of course not,” he muttered under his breath. “Who says that? Th-That’s stupid.”

He looked back at her earnestly, “I-I didn’t want—didn’t mean to intrude, I didn’t... I-I know ‘m’not supposed to be here. I just... I came by for some stuff, and... And I-I heard you scream, and I... I thought— Uh... I, um... I’ll-I’ll leave you alone now.”

Tears spilled in rivers down her cheeks. “Why are you protecting me, Peter?” she whimpered. “Can’t you see I’m not worth saving?”

He paused, eyes going wide.

“You can’t love me,” she wept. “You don’t know who I am. You don’t know what I’ve done.” She shook her head, racked with grief. “I keep trying to protect everyone, but-but I can’t—I... I’m killing them. I’m gonna get them killed.”

“What are you talking about?” Peter whispered. He squeezed his hands together, fighting the urge to cradle her face in them.

“‘M’not a good person, Peter. And I keep waiting for you to throw me away.”

He was dumbstruck into silence, shaking his head. Brows pinched together in horror.

“Don’t say anything,” she sniffed. “Please... don’t say anything. Just... just please. I need you to hold me.” He gazed at her blankly, as she closed the gap between them, pulling him into a kiss.

Both of her arms circled his shoulders. She nudged her chest up against his. She pried open his mouth with her lips, slipping her tongue through. His breath hitched at the taste of her, his hands outstretched safely away from her body.

She pulled her lips away with a heated smack, “Please, Peter. Please just touch me.” When she leaned in to kiss him, she felt the expanse of his broad hands on her lower back. He scooped her into his embrace, letting himself sink beneath the depths of her kiss.

He could feel her heart beating up against his own, both of them like rabbits darting through prairie brush. She paused only briefly for air, resting her forehead against his before dragging her wet touch across his tongue.

He could feel her everywhere. In every artery. In every cell. Drifting within his lungs. Swimming through his brain until he was dizzy. Whenever he felt himself floating, faint with desire, she snatched him tighter. Crushing their bodies against one another.

She emerged from the shell of her bedding, crawling into his lap. Threw her leg over him, pressing her heat against his belly. The sensation drew a gasp from his lips, and he seized her hips gently. He held them steady in place.

“Stop,” he breathed. He felt her go still. He squeezed his eyes closed, pulling his lips away. “We can’t.”

His words twisted a knife in her belly, her soul bleeding out.

“I can’t,” he muttered apologetically.

She found his eyes, hers full of dismay. A punishment for her cruelty. She was afraid to ask. “Why not?”

His eyes glistened in the city lights outside of her window. He stared at her, the corners of his mouth downturned. “Because if you push me away, it’ll break me, Honey.” He swallowed heavily. “And I don’t have anything left to break.”

She squeezed her eyes closed, tears breaking through her lids. She lowered her head, grieving the innocence of when they’d first met. She’d give anything to go back to that moment.

“Stay with me,” she whispered urgently. She met his eyes again. “Just stay here,” she said, softly begging. “Please. Just hold me.”

She nudged the tip of her nose against his. He gazed up at her with somber adoration and mourning, eyes achingly tender.

“Just for tonight,” she pleaded. She wore a desperate expression, like she would perish if he let her go.

It hurt to look at her. It hurt to touch her, almost as much as it hurt not to touch her. Pain was a mutual friend.

Tears shimmering at his eyelids, he nodded softly.

Wordlessly, she gripped him tighter. As if she could physically hold on to the tiny bit of relief. She wanted to hold on for as long as she could.

They hung on to each other, curled up together beneath the darkness. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, her hand resting above his heart. Fingers outstretched, she studied the slow rise and fall of his chest. He buried his fingers in her hair, rubbing tiny circles on the nape of her neck. The sound of their hearts beating in sync soothed him, like rain pattering on a rooftop.

Just for tonight. They slept in peace.

Her limbs felt heavy, but she was warm. She snuggled against a firm body toasting her like a furnace, as tendrils of daylight pulled her from slumber. Her eyes blinked open. Curiously, she lifted her head.

Peter dozed softly with her body nestled against his side. Her eyes softened as she gazed at the way the light danced across his freckles. She studied his image, memorizing each aspect of the moment. His hair was puffy and wild. She observed flecks of amber and gray in his chestnut beard. His lips were chapped with a plump cherry pout. And while she was mapping the lines of his face, she realized that this was the first morning she’d ever woken up next to him.

Like he could hear her thinking, his hand twitched, tightening his grip on her lower back as he stirred awake. Coffee eyes wandered quickly and found hers, lighting up with warmth. A sleepy, half-smile stretched across his features.

“You’re here,” she said dreamily, returning the smile.

“I am.” His voice was thickened by deep sleep. He watched her with fondness for several moments, before adding worriedly, “Did you not want me to be?”

Her smile dimmed for just a moment. She shook her head. “It’s nice.”

It was the truth. They gazed at each other, silent and starry-eyed and lost in a pleasant peace. He brought his hand up slowly to brush a piece of hair from her face. Her skin hummed at the brush of his fingertips. A shadow darkened her eyes. “I saw George Stacy yesterday.”

She felt his muscles tighten faintly, and his eyes fluttered shut. When he opened them, he drew a measured breath. Concern dimmed his gaze. “What’d he say?”

She pursed her lips. “He told me that you pushed Gwen off a bridge.”

A sharp pain flickered on his face like the sting of a wasp. A cold shadow fell across him, like the dark side of the Moon. “You believed him.” It wasn’t much of a question.

“I don’t want to hear it from him,” she said gently. “I want to hear it from you.”

His vision drifted. Melancholy and grief swallowed him, pulling him under a dark tide of painful memories. She felt his hands release her as he shifted to a sitting position. Her heart ached at the loss of his hold, and she hopelessly tried to seek comfort by wrapping her arms around herself.

“Gwen and I—we met in high school.” The hoarse creak of his voice startled her. He sat with slumped shoulders, leaning over a bent knee. “She was the only one that knew me, before my aunt and uncle died. She stuck with me after. Even when she saw what I was becoming.”

Bitterness accentuated his tone. Delicately, Honey sat up in her sheets, leaning enough to be able to see his gloomy profile. “She tried to save me,” he said. “But what happened, happened. I told her what I had to do. And that I am what I am. She couldn’t stop me, and I told her not to try.”

He swallowed hard. “I pushed her away, tried to break it off. But that just pissed her off more. Made her double-down. She was so damn stubborn. So she tried to help me.”

A pang contorted his features for a moment. She saw a faint tremor in his lower lip. He bit down on the flesh to still its movements.

“Her dad, though,” he continued. “He was a cop. He already hated me, even before I was a criminal. It was only a matter of time before he found out who I really was.” He sniffed, lifting his chin with a rueful look. “I knew he’d protect her, but he could only do so much. Eventually he was going to find us out, and if he wanted to protect her, he was going to have to pit her against me.”

The last part of his sentence cut through him like a razor. He paused for a moment, wetting his lips. Shoving his voice out of his pained chest. “So when she turned 18, she asked me to marry her.”

The sharp lines in her forehead faded at the revelation.

“She said if we were married,” he said, haunted by grief, “she couldn’t be forced to testify against me.” He gulped again, and by the look on his face he was swallowing rusty nails. “I didn’t care that it was part of a plan. It was the happiest I’d ever been since... even since before, I think.”

He went quiet for a while, before adding grimly, “I tore her family apart. He never forgave me for that.” A dark bitterness contorted his features, the familiar echo of self-loathing returning to his voice. “And I looked that man in the eye and swore that I would protect his daughter. But I failed.”

His eyes fell closed, and for a moment she thought his memories were tattooed on the insides of his lids.

“She fell,” he ground out, tears welling up. The dam was in danger of breaking. “I tried to catch her in time.” The breath sucked out of his lungs. “It was a matter of inches. Milliseconds. But it wasn’t enough.”

He slowly turned to face her, eyes shimmering with tears. “You asked me who was responsible for her death. I didn’t push her. But I’m the reason she was up there to begin with.” A pained flicker of a smile ghosted across his lips—a cruel impersonation of acceptance, of resignation of his guilt. “She died because of me,” he declared. “I let the woman I love die. I can’t let that happen twice.”

Eyes misty and red, he let the statement rest, as if dictating words he wanted written on his tombstone.

With a heavy heart, she replied, “But I’m right here, Peter. I’m not dead. Why wouldn’t you tell me the truth? Not just about Gwen, but Bella, too? Why would you make me think you knew where she was?”

Peter looked away, gazing down at his hands, pinching his lips closed. A false light returned to his tone. “My uncle used to say that one of the two keys to success was never telling everything you know.”

He didn’t follow up with anything after that. Her face slumped in disappointment.

“Bella means the world to you,” Peter explained, meeting her eyes again. “And I’d never put her life in the hands of just anyone.” He swallowed painfully. “Not even myself. I can’t be responsible for destroying someone else I love. I won’t.”

“Destroying me—you-you really thought the solution was pushing me away?” She sounded frustrated and betrayed. “That didn’t work with Gwen. Why did you think it would work with me—?

“Because I’m afraid I already have,” Peter affirmed. She fell silent as he gazed at her mournfully. “I know what rage does to people. I know what it looks like. That night, when we were fighting—I saw it in your eyes. Saw it when you looked at me. Hatred is... it’s a flesh-eating parasite. Never satisfied.” He gazed at her, eyes grim. “That’s all me, Honey. I did that to you.”

She sighed as regret seized her lungs. “Peter,” she pleaded, “let’s go back to the mountains.” His brow furrowed with confusion, as she explained more urgently. “Let’s go away. With Miles, and-and Felicia, and Bella, and everyone, and just—just hide?”

He shook his head. “What do you mean?”

“I’m scared, Peter. I’m scared that something awful is going to happen.” She felt the thick serpent crawl up from her belly again. “I’m-I—I don’t feel safe here anymore. Between the bomb, and... then George Stacy walked right up to me in broad daylight. What if that had been someone else?” His gazed at her worriedly, and she implored, “I’m... I’m afraid someone’s watching us. Watching me.”

She swallowed hard to keep the bile from spilling out of her mouth. Her skin felt clammy. Reptilian. Lying to Peter now made her physically ill.

“You’re gonna be okay, Honey,” he replied with gentle affirmation. “You and Miles, your family—I’m gonna protect you. You don’t need to worry.”

“Please, stop telling me that,” she declared firmly. “We both know it’s not true.”

He studied her silently with a frown, eyes flitting over her face. “I’m not good with flashing lights and loud noises.”

She blinked at him, brows pinched.

He met her eyes, as if continuing a confession, “Too much stimulation has always been an issue with me. Sorf of a-a weakness, I guess.”

“What does that—?”

“The cops could tear this place apart, but they wouldn’t find anything. It’s not here. It’s in a place underground. We call it The Bunker. It’s in an abandoned subway station that nobody knows about. Roosevelt. That’s our fallback position, a strategic planning base. Weapons, cash, files on every corrupt bastard in this city. It’s all there.”

Her brain was spinning with confusion.

“Inside a bank in Queens off of Woodhaven,” he added, casual and matter-of-fact in a way that made her feel unsettled. “There’s a safe registered under the name Ezekiel Sims. Inside, there’s $63 million in cash. Unmarked bills. Untraceable, clean money. It’s my cut. Nearly fifteen years’ pension for my sins. But it’s not for me. It’s for Miles and his family. The combination to the safe is his birthdate.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she blurted, overwhelmed.

Peter stared at her, eyes soft. “Because I’m done hiding. I’m through with hiding who I am. Especially from you.” Her brows furrowed as he explained, “If you wanted to turn me in, to drain me dry, take Bella and run—you have everything you need to know. As long as you and Miles are safe. Felicia. Johnny. Everyone left alive that matters to me—all I care about is that they’re safe.”

He swallowed hard, gazing at her solemnly. “Nobody can hurt me, Honey. No one but you. If that’s what you want.”

She felt the sting of tears brimming her eyes, her heart sinking in her chest. In under a minute, he’d given her the key to her freedom, to everything she could have ever wanted. It was also the key to his destruction. The nail in his coffin. Diametrically opposed to what she could ever want.

Why her?

That’s the only thing she could think about. It was a record running on repeat, slowly driving her insane. Why trust her? Why choose her? Why risk his life and legacy for her?

Not just material things—but his family was on the line. Secrets had already been divulged. Blood had already been spilled. Why would he love her when the weight of her betrayal made her want to die?

She cast her eyes downward, unable to meet his gaze. In her mind, she wanted to scream at him to run away. She wanted to scream at him for being so blind. For foolishly choosing her, when he could have anything else. Or anyone.

“Were you with someone?” she asked, as timid and quiet as a mouse.

His eyebrows pinched together. “With someone?”

“Someone else,” she replied, a little clearer. Again, she was conflicted at whether or not she wanted the answer. “Another woman. Or man.” He was silent as she stared down at the black polish decorating her nails. “You were gone for days,” she said, idly. “I mean, n-not that I expected you to just... y’know.” She took a deep breath. “It’s okay, if you did.”

When she looked up at him, Peter was staring back at her like she had grown an extra head. “Are you asking me if I’ve had sex with anyone since I left?”

Her eyes went wide, embarrassed by the bluntness of his question. “I mean, I’m not—” She stuttered, struggling. “No, I mean, I am. I just—”

She cleared her throat. It was like wet cement surrounded her vocal cords. “I get it,” she stated, her eyes darting from his face, to his chest, to the blanket, to the wall, and back around again. “You’ve got—your-your face is, it’s nice.” She was flailing. “And your rest of you, is, um, is—”

A heat wave traveled up her neck, making her feel faint. Her breaths were coming out short. “It’s okay,” she explained apologetically. “If you did. It makes sense. I just… you can tell me.” She met his eyes, trying to steal herself. “Please. If... if you don’t mind.”

Peter stared at her for a long time. He was quiet. Contemplative. He could have grown moss. Just when she was about to pass out from the anticipation, he shifted in his seat. His umber eyes fixed on her. “Honey. Since I met you, I haven’t looked at anyone else.”

She pressed her lips together, chewing on the inside flesh. His words were like a glowing, hot blade, slicing her open. Tears rimmed her saddened gaze. Her voice came out as a whimper.

“You don’t have to lie.”

His brows furrowed. A dreary expression leveled him. He turned his shoulders towards her.

“There’s not anybody else,” he softly declared. It felt like a whisper that only she could hear. “There’s not another woman. Or a man.”

His hand came up, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Not another sunrise or sunset, no fancy car, no drug trip...”

The warmth of his lungs ghosted over her face like a warm mist. “No cute puppy, no breathtaking waterfall, no flower, or beach or mountain—not a single moment of joy on this Earth—that compares to how you make me feel.”

Her muscles seized, eyes wide. Tears brimmed that she was unaware she could even feel. Added to that, was the rough touch of his thumb brushing at the edge of her mouth. He stared down at her lips like he could read lines of poetry written on them.

“I was in the dark,” he murmured. “After Gwen, I was asleep. Thought I was already dead. Until I saw you. Thought it was a crush. But then... I met you.” His warm gaze heated into a small smile, thawing out his features. “I watched you sing and dance and make food, and play games with Miles, and talk about animal facts, and tell stories to Rex, and apologize to the house plants when they didn’t get watered.”

He chuckled softly, like a candle flickering on a winter night. “I listened to you talk about everything like it was—like it was a gift. Like no matter how dark it was, there was gonna be a sunrise. Like you could already see it.”

She met his gaze as her eyes welled up. No one had ever looked at her like that.

“Bringing down Fisk was always endgame for me,” he murmured. “Didn’t ever see past it. Figured I didn’t need to.” Timidly, he leaned closer, as if sharing his biggest secret. “When you touch me, it’s like I can feel the sunrise. Like I can reach out and touch the future.”

A tear trailed down her face before he wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. Her lip wobbled and she felt as if he was holding her upright. Like her life had been a perilous journey and she’d finally found rest.

“You once told me that you had all the power,” he said with a coy smirk. Embarrassment kissed her features, before he soothed it away with his hands. “That’s not the half of it,” he said. “You’re my tomorrow. You have the rest of my life in your hands.”

They gazed at each other, eyes shimmering, hearts swelling with emotions they couldn’t begin to describe.

“How could I look at anyone else?” Peter said with a profound wonder. “You’re the first and last thing I wanna see every day. There is no tomorrow for me if you’re not in it.”

His hands were holding onto the sides of her face, but inside, she was buckling. Her walls crumbled. She searched his eyes through her own blurry tears. Desperately looking for a catch. Seeking a reason not to believe him.

But she was right about another thing—she knew what it sounded like when he lied to her. And in every cell of her body, she knew that this was not it.

“Peter,” she breathed, with a wary tremor in her heart. It was like she was standing on shaky legs at the edge of the Earth, ready to dive into its core. “I think—” Her voice shook timidly, until she willed it to be steady. “I… I think... I’m in love with you.”

His eyes glowed, momentarily weakened by a fleeting helplessness. He closed them for a moment, as if to steady himself. “No,” he softly replied. Opened his eyes to stare at her like she was the answer to everything in the universe. “You’re not.” A gentle smile played upon his lips. “Not yet.”

Her insides melted for him. She wanted to fall into him and be consumed by the blaze.

“It’s okay, though,” he whispered with a subtle, teasing grin. “I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it happen. To be worthy of it.”

The cheekiness of his smile triggered an even wider one from her. She breathed out a small laugh, tears falling. He gazed down with eyes that spoke louder than his words. It left no doubt in her mind.

Peter Parker loved her.

It hurt to look at.

Her smile dimmed. “Peter.” She swallowed hard, mustering the strength to crawl across a mile of flaming coals. “I... I have to tell you something.” His light never flickered. He gazed at her, half-entranced, half-heartedly listening. “I’m... I’m not the person you—”

A phone buzzed.

Her heart seized in her chest. A full stop. It felt like the touch of death.

Peter flinched nervously, snapped out of the spell. He dropped his hands to his pockets, digging the buzzing device from his slacks.

She sealed her eyes closed, withholding a silent scream.

Peter gazed down at the screen with a frustrated sigh, looking up at her apologetically, and put the device to his ear. “What is it,” he answered, quietly seething. As he listened to the muddled voice on the other end, Honey was dizzy with conflicting emotions. She wanted to curl up and die.

“What do you mean he’s here? We’re supposed to meet in Brooklyn.”

That was the last straw. She needed to say it. She needed to come clean. She needed to tell Peter the truth about everything. To bare her soul and confess her sins the way he had. The only problem was that her heart was stuttering in her chest, shaking her stomach so much that she was going to vomit on her bedspread.

“Fuck,” she idly heard him mumble. “Alright. Let ‘em in. Make ‘em wait. I’ll be down in a minute.”

She was drowning in sorrow as he ended the call. Oblivious to her distress, he shoved his phone back in the pocket of his jeans. He looked back at her, disappointment twisting his face. He read the look on her face as frustration at the interruption.

“I’m... I’m sorry,” he winced. “I...” His eyes darted to her door. “I... I have to—”

He didn’t need to say it. Duty called. Her opportunity to resolve herself was slipping away. Maybe it never even existed.

He cupped her face with his hands, gazing at her tenderly. “You get cleaned up, okay? And I’m yours the rest of the day. We’ll go anywhere you want. Just gotta take care of this one thing. It’ll take me less than an hour.”

Less than an hour.

She had less than an hour until her world crumbled. Until she revealed to the one person that ever really loved her that he was wrong about her. She was never worthy of his love.

“I promise,” he repeated with soothing tones and gentle touches. He leaned in slowly, as if requesting permission, and pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead.

She responded with something that sounded vaguely like words. He removed his hands. His touch. His warmth. Finally, he removed himself from her presence.

Dread filled her, along with a cold fear that she’d never see it again.

She followed instructions with an empty brain. A hollow heart.

When she emerged from her room, she was clean. Her stomach was empty of its contents. The color had faded from her skin. She was an apparition, walking aimlessly among the living in the waking world.

Rex. She went down the stairs to check on Rex. Maybe he needed his terrarium cleaned. Maybe she could clean it. Maybe she could scrub the whole penthouse with a toothbrush while she waited for the sensation to come back to her fingers and toes.

Her feet guided her closer to Rex’s tank, and she stopped suddenly. Aware that someone was blocking her path. A tall, beefy figure leaned down over the terrarium.

They turned to face her.

Her eyes went wide.

Her heart jumped.

Her breath seized.

John Walker fixed her with a pleasant smile—cheeks rosy, shark-blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

“So, this is what you’ve been hiding away, eh?” he grinned snarkily.

The world was spinning. The earth was shaking. She thought the whole building would come down on top of her.

“I don’t think we’ve had the chance to meet,” John said.

Her brows furrowed. She was frozen stiff, barely registering Peter as he walked up into her view. Stood shoulder-to-shoulder with John.

“No, I, uh... I was saving it for a special occasion,” Peter replied. He glanced over at John with a fond expression, then faced her.

A rat caught in a trap.

A snake stretched between the fangs of two wolves.

Torn apart.

“This is, uh, an associate of mine,” Peter told her. “A friend, really. I'd like you to meet Steve Rogers.”

Continue to Part 18

[back to masterlist]

a/n Thank you everyone for your patience and support! Things are going to heat up and move very fast. I appreciate your positive feedback.

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citadelofmythoughts · 7 months ago

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I think when it comes to Blake and any Faunus be they canon or OC, writing their more Animalistic parts should woke the same way real life human hind brains work. A lizards Faunus being written as flicking their tongue out all the time and hissing constantly I’d consider lazy or bad. But needing to use their aura to regulate their temperature thus having great control over using it as a shield? Has the animal aspect but keeps it human. I kinda wanna do a team rwby role swap so I’ve been thinking about what type of Faunus the other girls would be and what features would manifest. For me it’s important to remember that they are Humans with, more or less, mutations of animal traits, and not Animals who Turned Human. Coming up with human ways for the animal traits to come through I think is the best way for people wanting to write Faunus to look at it

That's not a bad way of looking at it. To use a non-RWBY OC example of mine. Izumi from my MHA fic has some fishlike qualities such as gills and scales and she has a tendency to become dehydrated easily but no one outside of Bakugo really points it out. She's just a girl who has scales.

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aplliwrites · 3 years ago

Text

Monster AU Head Cannons of Some of My Favs bc I’m a Bored Monster Fucker and I Don’t Wanna Deprive Y’all of Content

-Death Note

Matt is a werewolf. He still has wolf ears, a tail, sharp teeth, and claws in his human form. He is also pretty hairy but doesn’t bother to shave. I don’t really know what color his fur should be. On one hand, you have his canon hair color which is brown and on the other you have his fanon hair color which is red. But I have a compromise. If you prefer his fanon hair color his fur color is brownish red. And if you prefer his canon hair color then his fur color is the same as his hair color.

Mello is half lizard (I took inspiration from the Argentine black and white tegu). He has dark gray scales on his back, sides, forearms, hands, lower legs, and feet. The scales on his arms and legs are mostly black with little white speckles. The scales on his back are black and white stripes that are horizontal with the black stripes a little thicker than the white ones. The scales on his sides are mostly white with random blotches of black. His scales fade into skin where the two meet. The sclera of his eyes are bright yellow and his pupils are black slits. He has a pink forked tongue that flicks in and out. His tail is long and ends in a sharp point. It can also fall off and regenerate like a tegu’s tail. He hasn’t dropped his tail but if he did it would be visibly obvious. A dropped tail doesn’t have the same scale pattern as the rest of the scales and the tip is rounded.

-Hunter X Hunter

Feitan is a mix between a ghoul and vampire. He’s sickly pale, has bright red eyes, sharp fangs, and wings that resemble bat wings. Normally when vampire ghoul Feitan goes out he has his umbrella protect him from the sun. Other than a pair of gloves, he wears basically the same thing as his canon self.

Phinks is a demon and looks like the common depiction of satan. Red skin, black hair, horns, bat wings, pointed ears, and a tail with a puff of black fur at the end.

Machi is a drider (I took inspiration from the Arizona Blonde Tarantula). Her spider body is hairy like a tarantula’s. Most of her spider body is the same color as her hair but it fades to black on the first segment of each leg, the first segment of her mandibles, her toes, and butt. She can inject venom and kick urticating hairs (urticating hairs is a defense mechanism new world tarantulas use. They kick the hairs on their butt off and those hairs irritate whatever it lands on) but she prefers attacking via her threads. She only kicks hairs and injects venom as a last resort. She’s not actually as big as you’d expect a drider to be. She’s only two inches (5 cm) taller than her canon height.

Uvo is an orc. Large bottom tusks, underbite, and pointed ears. He also dresses like your typical orc. A loin cloth made out of animal hide and spiked armor on both shoulders, forearms, and lower legs. He also has silver piercings. Two on his right ear, a septum piercing, and two on his left eyebrow. He doesn’t carry a weapon though. Why should he when he can squish anyone like an ant with his bare hands?

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tydur · 4 years ago

Text

'𝙊𝙧 𝙉𝙖𝙝'; 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨

꧁𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 '𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐡' 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐧𝐝꧂

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: nsfw under the cut✨

writing this made me realize how wack these lyrics are sdnjagfb

ᴅᴀɪᴄʜɪ:

“You gonna run it for these hunnids girl or nah? Show me is you really 'bout your money girl or nah? Don't play with a boss, girl take it off Take it for a real one You gonna get it all“

mmmmm sugardaddychi makes me throb <333333

he is the type of sugar daddy to spoil you to hell and back as he should

and then he also gives u a monthly allowance... which brings me to my next point

he’ll give u dat monthly allowance and then you’ll go to the mall and head into victorias secret and get some lingerie you know will drive him up the walls

then into your walls

sorry. sugar daddy Daichi just makes me pulse

and w said new pieces of clothing (can it actually be qualified as that lmaoao)

you make your way to daichis

mans is there PREPARED

and you get in, set your stuff down and make your way to Daichi's room to see him sitting on the edge of the bed in only basketball shorts

im drooling

“come to daddy, baby”

IM DROOLING

you sit in his lap, perched up as he places little kisses all over your neck

“show me what you got, princess”

and so you do and mans wastes NO time as soon as all your clothes are off, lingerie an exception ofc, he pulls you down to his lap and pulls down his shorts

“you look so good, sweetheart. daddy thinks that that was money well spent”

you basically drool all over him at the use of his nickname like me

pulls your panties to the side, “im gonna fuck you with this set on, okay, darling? you ready for daddy’s cock?”

we stan the consent in this household

you nod, whimpering as he pushes into your soaking pussy

“there you go, baby. take my cock so well. i want you to fuck yourself on daddy’s cock- go ahead baby.”

and obviously u get your hips moving swEetheart

cause whatever daddy says, is what u do

omg i am going to get cAught up- moving oN

ᴛᴇʀᴜsʜɪᴍᴀ:

“Do you like the way I flick my tongue or nah? You can ride my face until you're drippin' cum Can you lick the tip then throat the dick or nah? Can you let me stretch that pussy out or nah?“

awww fuck

mr. piercing back at it again

makes my pussy throb just thinking about that pierced tongue between my thighs

so i thought these lyrics were perfect for him tbh

also for me it is canon that this mother fuckin lizard bitch has a big dick dont @ me

so when yall fuck u get s t r e t c h e d

like i just did w that word

so clever

anywho

another point that i have to cover cause of the lyrics is when ur giving him a bj the bitch does not HESITATE to fuck your throat w NO warning

you’ll quickly pull away, coughing and trying to catch ur breath

you slap his thigh and scold him to not do it again

but guess what bitch

he does it again

sigh

n e wayz

mans eats u out w EXPERTISE

is that the word

but he is so good at it??????

kinda makes u worried why hes a god at it-

but u are NOT complaining once that tongue flicks against ur clit WOOH

his tongue piercing makes everything 10x better

and he knows how to use that thing

but he also loves teasing u w it ugh

mother fucker

makes you cum against his face at least twice before yall get to the actual fucking

and when he pulls back his face is covered in your juices and you get so embarrassed, looking away and trying to cover your face and close your legs

but uh uh

he thinks its so hot lord help him

makes you look at him,

“fuck, you’re so fucking hot baby. imma need you to cum on my dick next time tho”

n e x t

ᴋᴜʀᴏᴏ:

“Can you really take dick or nah? Can I bring another bitch or nah? Is you with the shits or nah? Or nah, or nah“

hyena back at it againnnnn w the bed headdd <333

ok this is him wanting a threesome w another girl as the lyrics state dumbass madeleine

anywho

its mostly just because the thought of you on top of another girl makes his cock do a 180

i DiD a FuLl 180, CrAzY

yall im-

n e wayz

its a mutual decision, obvi, and u think a threesome w another girl is extremely hot

tho u may get jealous but that's not the point here

extremely hot

so yall go to the bar

and try to scout someone out

and lorddd do u find someone

gorgeousss and her body was like amazing

i think u were staring more than kuroo was tbh jhdhefhyg

so u go up to her, all flirty and whatev and start chatting her up

then eventually kuroo comes as well

mY dirty mind stOp

and then yall tell her that u want a threesome

shes obvi like dUh cause yall are bootiful

so threesome insues

idk im tired do i actually have to write the threesome

#badwritertingz

just wanna watch bnha but nOOOO im behind on my writing

oMG I NEEDA STOP

this is who yall like ?????

so yall get back to the hotel and kuroo just sits down on the chair beside the bed and ur like ?????

to which he says- he saYS hes just gonna watch and ur like 0.0

but who are u to complain w this girl all up on u <3333333

so basically just half the time u and the girl go at it while kuroo just jerks off and praises the both of u sigh

and then he FINALLY joins in

and that when the real fun ensues

ok that's it brain not working im still stuck up on the first two ndmduhjasdjyg

yall i gave up on the end im SO SORRY FORGIVE ME BABES

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damienthepious · 3 years ago

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for fanfic commentary, chapter 5, "We don't need to talk," she says, her lips still brushing the rim of her cup, "if you don't want." till end of the chapter

[Pick a short passage from any fanfic I’ve written (OR SPECIFICALLY Need Your Teeth Etc) and send it to me, and I’ll give you the equivalent of a DVD commentary on that snippet!]

yessssssss yesssssss

[After a moment, Arum approaches, carefully lowering himself and pretending not to watch the doctor with a wariness bordering on the paranoid.]

genuinely a breakthrough for Arum to admit that he's being paranoid, even internally. She's given him virtually no reason to be suspicious of her, EXCEPT for the fact that she's been overly-familiar with him.

[He lifts his own mug, flicking his tongue through the steam, oddly comforted by the familiar scent.]

Arum canonically likes tea! love that for him. Rilla in my head likes coffee better, but goddamn she is going to SLEEP after Arum leaves. Offering tea is just... domestic and normal. Normal is weird for Arum, but he's taking a little bit of solace in just... the pure physical sensation of a warm cup in his hands.

["We don't need to talk," she says, her lips still brushing the rim of her cup, "if you don't want."]

the Continuing Efforts of Amaryllis to Offer Olive Branches. she is more than aware of Arum's discomfort, and the fact that he seems particularly unused to just... conversation. She's giving him an out, and she would have absolutely honored it, despite her own curiosity.

also the exact phrasing and pacing of this came to me like a vision. despite how simple it is, this singular paragraph Lives in my head as an audiovisual experience.

[Arum considers that.] again, genuinely a breakthrough. i think he's feeling... unsettled (tender) after seeing Damien like that.

[It is... deeply unsettling, sitting in a human home, waiting for his rival to wake, offered courtesy and patience by a stranger- a strange human, even. It is unsettling, but-]

This is so wildly out of Arum's comfort zone that it isn't even funny (it's a little bit funny).

[Amaryllis carries herself with a certain steadiness, a certain honesty. Her home is unassuming, nearly as full of growing things as the grove outside, smelling faintly of the magic of the surrounding jungle.]

Pulling back to just... observations. He's not analyzing them for a minute, he's just... taking stock. also, the magic he smells is probably also a LITTLE bit her own research, but it's hidden enough that it just seems like the pervasive magic of the world is not suppressed by her, the way it would be by some humans.

[He can imagine- Damien's frenetic energy, his passion and intermittent panic- Arum can imagine Amaryllis and her home as a balm to him, soothing him down from his more distressing highs.]

and after he observes, then he extrapolates. He understands, very easily and almost instinctively, how Damien FITS here, even if he hasn't contextualized the relationship between the humans as romantic, just yet. He knows Damien far better than he would outwardly admit, and even in discussing Damien's issues he still uses terms that are DISTINCTLY sympathetic and fond. calling it passion is very.... hmmmmmmmm 👀

[It is somewhat difficult to maintain discomfort, here. He should, of course. He should, but- he is tired. He is tired, and it is difficult.]

Arum is Admitting Things, tonight. To himself, at least. He's been VERY high strung about the whole duel setup, but Rilla, just Rilla, is a comforting presence, and she is actively trying to be comforting, as well. and it's... it is working on Arum, at least a little bit. He wants to be able to just... slow down, for a moment. He wants to be able to sit here and worry about Sir Damien without needing to hold himself ramrod-stiff, he wants to have a cup of tea and let his shoulders relax for five seconds. being so stressed out is exhausting, and the lizard is exhausted.

[And... Sir Damien is safe, sleeping just one room over.]

And Damien is safe. Which, Arum didn't realize that Damien's health and safety would be such an acute dilemma today, but! here we are. The tension-relief of hearing that Damien was hurt and then getting to see that he's been treated and tended to was a major factor in forcing Arum to just, like, take a breath.

And, importantly, all of this combines to let Arum lower his guard, just the smallest bit.

["You may... you may speak," he says gently. "If you'd like.]

He matches her tone, and he matches her pacing.

[I am certainly not going to stop you."]

tho he still absolutely does that Arum Thing where he needs to make it her decision and not something that he desires. He can't be so vulnerable as to say I would like some conversation, if only to distract myself. It has to be this, instead. Rilla, luckily, is clever and paying attention, and she's already kinda getting a lock on how Arum works.

[Amaryllis smiles through the steam, nods, and takes another sip.]

She is also extremely merciful. all bow before the merciful doctor. She still lets it sit, for a second. She doesn't launch right in, she doesn't point out how silly it is for him to frame it in a "i'm not going to stop you" context, she just... acknowledges him, and holds the moment. She'll speak when she has something she wants to say. And Arum will listen.

#asks #kyrfiore #elle's fanfic meta #still need your teeth around my organs

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jimmymcgools · 3 years ago

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Can you do a directors cut for they pay me a golden treasure?

hi! this has been in my ask box for like two weeks! i'm so sorry! my brain broke and i forgot how to think about things!

i'm glad you asked for this one, thank you so much 🙏 i'd had the first ~500 words of this sitting in a google doc for so long -- i was originally thinking of posting after i finished slip and fall season. but then my brain did that thing where i wanted everything to be exactly perfect and i kept working and overworking the first few paragraphs until way too much gluten had formed in the dough and it was chewy and terrible.

but then i took a step back and just tried to write a thing that captured all the little interesting ideas i wanted to include, and that helped me get the ball rolling.

commentary below! 💖

Two points of pressure weigh down his shoulders, as heavy as the bags of cash had been—heavier, even. It feels like he has two hands locked on either side of his neck. He can feel the man who owns the hands standing behind him, and he can hear the echo of the word wife.

this idea was one of the first things that made me want to write this oneshot -- linking this physical sensation of carrying the bags with this metaphorical way he feels lalo's control over him.

He swallows. His mouth is tacky with a sugary layer of Gatorade.

i wanted the whole thing to hopefully be SUPER sensory and way deep in jimmy's head. and this is the kinda shit that takes me longer than it should to remember. sometimes i have to just sit and think through every part of my body as if i'm in that situation and see if anything good leaps out.

He’s just standing there outside the apartment and his arms are so heavy and his shoulders are so heavy and his head is so heavy he feels as if he’s going to fall right through the ground, as if he’s going to plummet into the earth before she can even open the door.

this is one of the sentences that previously died to being overworked. i kept changing it and changing it until eventually i looked back at my very first version, which was more brainstormy note than intended prose, and i thought it was better than anything else i'd managed. so i used that!

There’s a bang and his eyes snap open. The door is widening to a square of light and his hands are in front of his chest, curling into balls.

this part is a reverse of the previous example, though! here i kept an earlier version for a while, something that started like "The door opens with a bang etc etc" and then i realised it DID need more work, it needed to be more in jimmy's head and not tell the reader exactly what was happening in the first three words.

A square of light—sand and sky and space blankets—and then she’s there, silhouetted against the white, and he takes— —one step, then the next, then the next— —through the bright doorway.

fuckin' love an em dash, mate

His legs, having delivered him here, to this final glowing space, give up.

another one of the ideas i was very excited about for this one-shot was comparing kim to the golden glowstick he holds that night in the desert! i always think about it when i watch that scene!

here's my first shot at making the comparison -- this final glowing space. for a while i wanted to include the memory of him holding that glowstick right here, so that people might link it with him holding her in the entryway, but it didn't work with the pace.

Her voice sounds like it’s coming down a long phone line, traveling through thousands and thousands of copper-lined miles. Crackling and cracking.

i'm a self indulgent lil shit so i put some references to my other fic in here. hopefully if youve read acb, this specific description makes you think of baby kim and jimmy talking softly on the phone at night.

Kim’s fingers are razors in his hair, crushing his head close against her shoulder.

another metaphor from early acb used here, which in itself is a reference to a song by the national, of course. all my fics are just a bunch of national songs stacked inside a trenchcoat

As soon as his chest touches hers, he’s clawing with tight fists at her back, holding her faster and faster, like he’s scrabbling for purchase over screaming dirt

i loved the idea of drawing all these parallels between the desert experience and his experience here. it makes me think of the split-screen opening. jimmy's dry tongue sticking to his mouth is like him trying to say the first part of kim's name. the way he hugs her is like the way he scrambles towards the esteem.

it's all entwined forever now.

From down the long crackling line, she says his name again. Jimmy. He almost can’t hear it. Jimmy.

god, i'm such a writing nerd and i love thinking about writing so much and it's like -- what does not having his name in speech marks add here? in my head it adds so much. is it real, is she really saying it? is he just thinking it? yet he says he almost can't hear it. somehow not having the speech marks also makes it feel far away to me. intangible. if she's really saying it, it doesn't feel real anymore.

i love writing!!!!

“Hey,” Kim says, her voice quiet, her eyes locked on his. The dry skin on his lips stretches with his smile. “Hey.”

would die for these two softly exchanging "hey"s.

It’s good to be close because he knows there’s something horrible trapped between their chests. Something he can feel running warmly down his white and unblemished t-shirt.

jimmy brushing his hand over the spot as they sit together on the sofa.

Like he’s something that might burn her, or something that might break. Or both—like he’s fragile and electrified.

i kind of want to do more with this duality at some point. i think they both feel this about the other. that they could burn them or be burned by them.

He wants her to cradle his cheeks the same way she always does, or stroke her thumbs over his mouth, or curl her fingers around his ears, but she doesn’t. She just holds him in her fingertips. Like water in her hands, he thinks.

more of that wild self-indulgency, but god i couldnt resist linking this moment with the first time they makeout in acb:

"Then she pulls back, breathing heavily, looking down at him. She frames his face with her hands. Gasping for breath, staring up at Kim from between her palms, Jimmy feels like she’s the only thing holding him together. Like he’s water in her hands."

the only thing holding him together.

the ", he thinks." i added in the one-shot makes me feel like jimmy's making the link too, not just me as the writer.

The apartment smells of smoke. Another thing he’s dragged with him over the threshold from the desert: one hundred thousand dollars in cash and the word wife and the smell of dust burning beneath a high sun.

of course, it smells of smoke because kim's been smoking inside, but jimmy doesn't know that

Boxers picked up and then put down in almost the same spot on the bathroom floor.

this moment always gets me. these actors are incredible. there's so much goddamn emotion in one little action.

In his hand now, the ache of a yellow glowstick. The edges of his fingers are made red with it, and his skin and bones and all the gaps between the different parts of himself are marked out with the light. He’s awake, and the yellow stick is fragile in his grasp. Glowing through the cold and the dark. Burning a ghost on his retinas. His suit jacket is thin above him, a loose sheet. The desert is loud with lizards and wind and tires wheeling over dirt roads. The glowstick is golden.

and now finally i get to this glowstick moment. i'm really proud of how i executed this paragraph. it's the writing nerd in me again. i love what the present tense does to it. to me, it makes it feel eternal, ongoing. this is how i felt okay about not setting up the glowstick thing earlier. this paragraph makes me feel like jimmy's been thinking about this the entire time.

all the gaps between the different parts of himself are marked out with the light

also the thought of like... jimmy sitting awake in the desert thinking about the jimmy vs saul of it all.

Burning a ghost on his retinas.

"Did I dream it or did I have $1,600,000 on my desk in cash? When I close my eyes, I can still see it. It's burned into my retinas like I was staring into the sun."

Kim’s face is warm against his spine. Her heartbeat seems to pulse through his skin.

more of my stolen acb lines, this from the final chapter:

"He can feel her breathing, her knees pressed up close behind his, her chest against his back. Her heartbeat seems to pulse through his skin. If he didn’t know better, he’d feel like the Sandias, like a line of protection between her and the world."

When he closes his eyes, he’s walking, he’s still walking.

returning to the first sentence here gave it all a terrifying feeling to me. like -- does jimmy feel like this moment of getting home is the dream? this looping dream?

thank you so much to everyone who read this one-shot, by the way! i was super nervous about tackling canon times, and everyone's messages have been so reassuring. i really appreciate it 💖

#asks #anon #directors commentary #that got SO long

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botwstoriesandsuch · 5 years ago

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Yo what if the Champions’ spirits stuck around long enough to train the next gen? Hcs for that?

*blows dust off of ask* Sorry this took so long, hope you weren’t too comfy sitting in my inbox there. Alrighty! Time for some

Training Montages *Rocky Theme Plays* (Headcanons)

Credit to @champion-of-the-sky for some help with the hcs

Ok, the first part of this post it just gonna be some of my thoughts into how the Divine Beasts actually work, because that’s kinda of necessary information if you wanna train them. So here is another one of my big boi head canon posts because sometimes I can’t shut up.

So firstly, the Divine Beasts can draw immense power from Hyrule which is stored over time and charges their giant laser thingys (Naboris draws power from the earth and makes electricity, Ruta takes in water from the atmosphere, Rudania is fire boy, Medoh has wind and thermal (from the atmosphere) generators, etc. etc.)

The Ancient Sheikah were like “hey wow these are really powerful beasts so maybe we should make sure that no one unworthy gets their hands on them”

Their solution was to have a spiritual bond between the beast and the pilot. Each Divine Beast has their own “soul” or personality and can judge someone of being worthy of piloting them. And only that person would have the power to use the Divine Beast to its full potential (AKA use the giant Anti-Ganon lasers)

Ergo, the Champions

When the died 100 years ago, their spirits stuck around because Ganon need to trap their spirits in order to get the Divine Beasts to actually work

[And then this would be a good segue-way into that cool idea where the Link has to fight the Champions taken over by malice, instead of the blights. BUT we’re not talking about that today]

Ok, so you know the story. Link frees the Divine Beasts from Ganon’s grasp. The spirits of the dead Champions command a legendary blow against the blight of Hyrule. Zelda and Link help save the day. Yay!

HOWEVER! The Champions are still there, their spirits persist.Turns out their spirits cannot go away, because the Divine Beasts don’t really wanna go without an owner, considering they’ve been controlled by Ganon for 100 years, so fair.

Basically, the Beasts wont let the spirit of their old pilots go until they find a suitable successor

Enter, new gen Champs!

Daruk/Yunobo

Training with a Divine Beast is not unlike trying to form a bond with a real animal. In fact, the Beasts do behave with a mind of their own, so that might as well be an on point analogy

Daruk struggled with Rudania because its personality was very stubborn and blunt, much like the Goron race anyhow. As said in my other post, Rudania’s personality clashes with the playful and loving nature of Daruk

The only reason Daruk even got the handle on things was becuase Link forced him to spend a whole day in the Divine Beast. We can only speculate that from that time, Daruk must have somehow formed a mutual respect or protective bond with the giant lizard

So essentially, when he’s training Yunobo, he does the exact same thing

“You just gotta walk around for a bit, Yunobo. Get a feel for ol’ Rudania. They’re a grump, but you’ll get along.”

“G-get a feel? We’re surrounded by lava! What if I mess up? What if your Divine B—”

“Your, Divine Beast”

“Right, right… but what if it doesn’t like me and tips my into Death Mountain’s core!”

Daruk gives a hearty laugh. “Kid, you helped save ol’ Ruddy from Ganon, remember? You’ve already got a good bond going. So just walk around for a bit and just take ‘em all in. Good luck!”

And he slams the door behind him, leaving Yunobo in the dark

But he’ll eventually get around to forming a bond. But Rudania’s probably a little grumpy that they’ve gone from reckless pilot who laughs too much, to timid teenager gifted with a powerful champion ability that he is self-conscious about

Daruk is hella encouraging with Yunobos training. The kid will eventually be the second best with his Beast. Daruk is patient with Yunobo because he sees himself in him. And he also teaches him some cool tricks like if you tilt Rudania just right, you get a cool slip and slide ramp that’s perfect for the hot springs

Urbosa/Riju [not a lot for these guys bcs I’m lazy and this post is long anyway]

Urbosa would be playful with Riju when they train, making goofy jokes about things, letting out a quick joke to lessen and tension Riju might feel from her anxiety to lead her people. At the same time, she also explains things with good detail

Riju is third best with her beast. Occasionally, she’ll be intimidated by Naboris’ strength and power, especially considering she had an incident with Patricia the Sand Seal back when it was shooting lightning everywhere

However, she’s the one to ask the most questions, half of which Urbosa can’t answer. She’s got that childish curiosity that serves well in her understanding of Naboris

Mipha/Sidon [also not a lot because using your imagination can be hard]

Mipha and Sidon just act like siblings, much to both of their delight. It’s less of training, and more of catching up on everything over the last a hundred years on top of a giant elephant.

Because they’re siblings, Mipha pulls little pranks on her little brother on purpose. But neither are really annoyed by it, as they both laugh it off

Like Mipha will tell Sidon to stand in a certain spot to see how the parts of Ruta move. Then she makes Ruta move in such away to splash the poor prince in gallons of water

You’re gonna ruin his handkerchief Mipha!

Sidon is the best at managing his Divine Beast out of the four, for not only does he have a strong bond with the previous pilot, but he gets along well with Ruta’s playful personality

Revali/Teba

Local birds butt heads because they’re both egotistical idiots

Revali continues to be as dramatic as usual, while also maintaining his image by claiming that Teba will probably never master Medoh as well as him

Teba respects Revali given that he was his childhood hero. Yet at the same time Revali isn’t exactly what he expected, and he’s not down to take this sass from a teenager

Perfect storm of dumb banter, because both have reluctance in the whole situation

Teba gives out a groan, frustrated. “Argh! This damn bird wont start its propellers. How do I get it to work?”

“Perhaps Medoh is still tired. After all, you’ve been complaining none stop all day.”

“Right, my voice is the problem.”

“Why don’t you sing her a lullaby, she’s probably so sleepy.”

Teba scoffs, “You’re kidding. There’s no way that would work. Beside, there’s no way I’m sing—”

“Why don’t you hold your tongue, my dear apprentice,” another groan escapes Teba, “You’re going to hurt Medoh’s feelings with that attitude. Tulin is your son, yes? Surely you’ve sung a tune or two back in his fledgling days?”

“Sure, but I’m not gonna—”

“Medoh wants to hear you s i n g~”

Revali is strict with his training, and Teba probably struggled with Medoh the most out of the four, considering that before Link came along, he had the mindset of killing Medoh.

Teba still repescts everything Revali is doing, making sure to call him “Master Revali.” And though he would never admit it, Revali’s feathers would always fluff with pride at the notion of it

Also he’s gonna call Teba his pupil/apprentice throughout the entire session

Angsty moment: when each Champion thinks their apprentice is ready, THAT’S the time they get their final rest and their spirits move on. Like, imagine Sidon wanting to Master Ruta to make his sister proud, but at the same time the day he does is when she is gone for good.

That looks like a good note to end off of! So yay :)

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exsqueeze-me · 4 years ago

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WHAT ARE THE SAIYANS SCARED OF????

(Mmm, yes. Caps lock. My favorite. I'm also gonna do this like, 'what Earth thing are they afraid of', so if you want something different, please ask and I'll be happy to oblige!)

Goku: He is canonically scared of needles, but I think that goes for anything that goes where he doesn't think it should. Whole bet he is scared of the dentist, because 'those tools really shouldn't be in your mouth at all'.

Vegeta: Canonically afraid of worms, so I think he would be scared of a few other creepy crawlies too. It's probably like, slugs and snails. He just doesn't like them. I can also see him being scared of certain fish. Like a blobfish, maybe.

Raditz: Hes scared of skunks. I'll bet you a million dollars there was a time where he saw one, thought it looked cool, and went to poke it with a stick or something. He had never been so mortified in his life when it sprayed at him.

Bardock: Lizards. You never really find out why, but it's probably because he just doesn't like the eye lick thing they do. You also see him grimace when, like, a chameleon or something pokes its tongue out to grab a fly. So he doesn't much care for frogs either.

Gine: I can see her being kinda scared of spiders. Anything with that many eyes and legs cant be good. While she is scared of the spider itself, she loves the webs they make and you can often catch her admiring them in the early morning while they have little dew drops on them.

Broly: He doesn't like the human parades or big celebrations. They're way too loud and flashy. He dosen't really care for loud noises or extremely sudden actions, so these events always seem to flare up his anxiety. He also has a small fear of the toaster. There have been countless times where hes nearly jumped out of his skin because it went off and he didn't know it was set.

Turles: He isn't really scared of it, just disgusted. He doesn't like rats. Specifically, the naked mole rat. He probably wants a few as pets, but he would deadass just visibly cringe everytime he looked at them. The other rats are fine as long as he doesn't cross paths with them.

#Goku #Vegeta #Raditz #Bardock #Gine #Broly #Turles #dbz

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malumarca · 4 years ago

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Random BSD!Mikaela Head Canons

Beast Verse:

Mikaela is appointed as Gin’s body guard and can most often be found trailing behind the secretary as if he were her own shadow, even while at the mafia headquarters

The few times Mikalea cannot be found within Gin’s presence is when she happens to be with Dazai, or on the few occasions he is asked to join the Black Lizard for missions ( though those instances are few and far between because Gin’s protection is of the utmost importance. )

Despite his position as Gin’s bodyguard, Mikaela has not had many chances to meet and talk to Dazai and despite this, the young bodyguard is perfectly okay with that. He’s heard enough stories about the mafia leader and is okay with not being overly scrutinized.

Canon Verse:

Mikalea works directly with the Black Lizard and is usually directly under Gin, or Hirotsu when appointed a mission.

He specializes as an assassin, his ability giving him advantages that others’ do not have, despite the fact that he walks a very fine line of being in control once it is activated.

Basic Info For Both Verses:

Mikaela’s ability is “ Salem’s Lot. “

His ability has completely changed his make up and makes him less human and closer to what some would call a vampire.

Though the ability itself is not always active, Mikaela always has a craving for blood and is faster and stronger than regular non ability users and even some ability users.

To know whether or not his ability is becoming “ active “ all you have to do is look at his eyes, if crimson begins to bleed into them, or if they fully change in color, then his ability has completely taken over.

He is capable of hiding his presence, his craving for blood grows stronger and he becomes even faster and stronger than he initially is. His ability allows him to be perfect for covert operations and assassinations.

While his ability is activated, Mikaela’s can heal at inhuman rates and can even reconnect his limbs, should he lose them, but he still feels every bit of pain from a wound inflicted upon him. As OP as it sounds, he is still very much capable of dying and most of his abilities depend upon the amount of blood ingested.

He cannot turn anyone else into a vampire and even if he could, he would refuse to do so.

ADDED FACTS ( edit ) :

Mikaela was found at a orphanage, nothing known other than that he was found bloodied and on the side of a road and he was in fact a mix, half Russian, half Japanese.

Mikaela was abused by his parents frequently and eventually thrown from their moving car when they were tired of him and when his ability manifested due to the constant abuse as a means of defense.

He only knew Russian at first and as he got older, he got better and better at Japanese. After he was taken in due to his ability by the Mafia, eventually he studied up on Russian so he wouldn’t forget what he considers is his mother tongue.

Due to his ability, he was involved in an accident at the orphanage that had to be covered up. He still has nightmares about it.

To Be Continued.

#✧ [ Head Canons ] Mika ✧#✧ [ BSD Verse ] Mafia Assassin ✧#anyways have some random thoughts #BUT IF YOU WANNA PLOT #LET ME KNOW #I'd love to establish some stuff #TW abuse mention

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sasskarian · 4 years ago

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Fanfic Masterpost ... sort of

In honor of Fanfic Appreciation, I put together a list of my fics for anyone who’d like to look

Under the cut, because length

Dragon Age:

After the Glitter Fades (Glitterverse): Hawke x Fenris, modern AU. (Long fic, WIP) Hawke and Fenris are movie stars in a torrid love affair. Fenris has a mysterious past. Also Cassandra is investigating a murder mystery? Varric, as ever, is a delight. (*this is borrowed from @nug-juggler‘s excellent and shorter summary!)

Memorable quote: Fenris observed candidly was something sacred. For a moment, Hawke fiercely wished she were an artist. The scene in front of her was too… every word she could think of— beautiful, elegant, breathtaking— was trite, a pale description of perfection.

In the Heart of the Woods: Lavellan x Fairbanks rarepair. (WIP) Inquisitor Lavellan’s heart is broken by a certain Commander, Fairbanks has an appreciation for her, and a love story blooms like elfroot in the Emerald Graves.

Memorable quote: This kiss, she thinks, two mouths moving in perfect unison, is a spell of its own. Not quite love, not yet, but close enough she can pretend it is. Hope wells up, a solid thrum beating in counterpoint to her heart, and for one perfect moment, the world just bows down and… stands still. All that exists, all that ever has existed or ever will exist is wrapped up right here, right now, in Fairbanks’ lips on hers. Motes of dust turn golden in the sunbeams splashing through the roof, and a touch— his thumb, her cheek— says a million more words than words ever could.

Yesterdays: Surana x Zevran, mild Surana x Alistair pining. Post Origins, complete. A Warden’s sacrifice means something only as long as someone remembers it. A king looks back, balancing regrets with happiness.

Memorable quote: With a half-sob, he realizes he’s forgotten the sound of her voice. Oh, he remembers how it made him feel, all those years ago, all the glorious, shining moments where happiness dwells still. But what she truly sounded like, what sounds she made as she buried herself in books, the snap of her magic, the low buzz of her and Zevran whispering in their tent, all of that is gone. He knows it happened, but the memory is lit dimly in his mind, a torch burned too low to be flame but not low enough for embers yet.

If You Ever Did Believe (for my sake): Lavellan x Cullen. (On temporary hiatus) A wary Commander. A lost Dalish mage. Two hearts beating alone and exhausted on a battlefield, their only rest coming from each other.

Memorable quote: “Does your Maker hate us so much?” Isera asked bitterly, and for a moment, Cullen felt as though years had rippled, bringing his past self— still clanking through the halls of Kinloch Hold in Templar plate— and his current together. He’d asked Ser Greagoir the same question once, after a Harrowing went wrong and the body of a former apprentice lay at their feet. So much potential wasted, so much fear in the mages’ eyes after that. For once, Greagoir had shown a hint of emotion, clapping Cullen’s shoulder briefly before walking away, but hadn’t answered.

Voiceverse: Lavellan x Solas/Dread Wolf. (WIP) Building off of the great works of @khirsahle and @athreehundredthirtythree. All mages are born with a soulmate--a voice they hear in the darkness of the Fade all their lives. The lucky ones find their soulmates and forge a bond strong enough to threaten the very foundations of the Chantry. At least, that's what they claim. So what happens when a Dalish mage hears the voice of their most reviled and feared god shaping her dreams?

Memorable quote: Accompanying the thundering voice, great fissures ruptured around her hiding spot, green light streaking upward as they gathered into a roiling cloud. A wave of raw sound— howls, cries, pleas— rolled over her, forcing her to her knees. Iveani clapped her hands over her ears, losing her own scream among the agony thundering through the Fade. All caution, all her hard-won lessons about walking the Fade, vanished into the back of her mind under the need to simply ride out the explosion and survive.

Mass Effect:

Home is Where You Are: Ryder x Jaal (WIP). Ryder didn’t cross two galaxies and 600 years in search of love. But damn if she didn’t find it anyway.

Memorable quote: “I should take a shower,” he mumbled, as the same time as Sara said, “Would you like to stay?” Both of them broke off, staring at the other, and she laughed nervously. That feeling was back, the one from the tech lab, fragility and strength and affection turned fierce and bright tumbling over and over one other.

A Song of Sea and Stars: Garrus x Shepard x Thane (WIP). Our favorite turian badboy sees right through the mask the galaxy’s most famous Commander projects. Neither of them expected to fall in love on a host of impossible missions. And both are taken by surprise by a pious Drell who steals both their hearts.

Memorable quote: (He opens his eyes, shocked how it feels to look into her face, intimate and hungry. He hazily notices that up close, her eyes are thulium-gray. There's a hot, tight knot in his chest and she's pressed so close, he thinks he could count each faint freckle on her face.) (They look like tiny stars.) (…there are twenty-eight on her right cheek. Thirty on her left. And fourteen, right across the bridge of her nose.) (Those are his favorite. They remind him of his own markings.)

the sound of shattering glass: Generic Shepard, post-Tuchanka, pre-Citadel II. The Shroud explodes, taking a beloved friend with it. Shepard only has herself to blame.

Memorable quote: “Damn Reapers,” he said, striving for nonchalance. “Always throwing us around.” “Banged us up pretty good,” she agreed, and he knew she wasn’t talking about their bumps and bruises. “So what do we do about them?” “Get back on our feet. Keep fighting.” Garrus hummed as she shifted closer, pressed her forehead against his neck. “Maybe find a way to use some really big canons I spend half my time adjusting.”

Star Wars:

He Might Like That: Mandalorian x Cara Dune pining. So they argue. So they took down Gideon, and have a magic green frog baby older than both of them. That doesn’t make them a thing. Does it?

Memorable quote: He tunes back into the not-so-friendly argument in time to hear Greef splutter. “You trash talked while holding hands! If that’s not flirting, I’m a kowakian monkey lizard.” “It was arm wrestling, not holding hands,” Din points out mildly.

Star by Star: Post TRoS. Ben x Rey pining, Finn x Rey x Poe. Can three hopeless idiots in love fill a wound as deep as the death of a dyad? Maybe not, but they’re out to try anyway.

Memorable quote: “You know,” Poe whispers, a glint of mischief in his eyes, “if we ever did tell him we loved him, he’d probably sleep right through it.” Rey touches her fingers to his lips, tracing the shape of his questioning smile. It’s an invitation to play, that smile. A careful offer of love, of comfort. And though she’s not sure if he can really understand when even she doesn’t, she’s finally ready to try a little.

Counting The Days (Since Exegol): Finn x Rey x Poe, Ben x Rey. Its been 42 days since Palpatine’s death. 42 long days since she felt the surge of light in Ben Solo. And in her dreams, something whispers on the edge of the Force. But she’s shut it down too tightly to hear it.

Memorable quote: True to form, Poe can’t resist the urge to kiss away Finn’s troubles whenever possible, and Rey looks away to give them a moment. Some love stories work out, yes, and she loves Finn and Poe more than almost anything else. But that doesn’t stop the way bitterness floods her mouth as the memory of Ben surfaces, and it isn’t until Poe gently squeezes her knee (and she throttles back the near-instinctive urge to break his fingers from a lifetime of fending off handsy scavengers on Jakku) that she comes back to the moment. His brow furrows and she reaches for him, smoothing out the lines of his frown with her thumb. “I’m okay,” she says, answering his unspoken question. It’s mostly a lie, but she has to say it. Most days, she’s okay enough.

A Language Made for Lovers: SWTOR (NSFW). Torian Cadera x Bounty Hunter, gender neutral. Reflections on love and marriage under the glow of hyperspace.

Memorable quote: He murmurs in your ear, words that should sound harsh in that still-new tongue scalding your mouth, molding you from aruetii to mandalorian. But the love in his voice softens them, steeps them in warmth and adoration. Still the language of a hunter, of those brave souls willing to be reforged, but with a gentle side, a language reserved for lovers. Words like cyare and riduur, words that mean I love you and forever and home.

Malicious Compliance: SWTOR (NSFW). Malavai Quinn x Sith Warrior, gender neutral. Far away, in an apartment no one knows about, a Sith Lord plays dire games of control... and trust.

Memorable quote: It takes a man with the courage of an entire fleet of Mandalorians to love a Sith, and oh, how he loves you. Like you hung the moons and the stars and all the spaces between. Like you are his other half, like loving you is his sole purpose in life, does Malavai Quinn love you. Your old masters spoke nothing of this, of this enraging hunger gnawing at your bones and curling into the hollows of your rib cage. ... Is it really even love if you don’t want to devour him just a little?

Misc:

Tumblr Prompts: Grab bag of every fandom and series listed above. Prompts filled originally here on tumblr.

Visual Files: Collections of art and commissions from talented friends and artists here on tumblr.

Every Beautiful Thing: Crimson Peak. Thomas x Edith, Edith x Alan. Edith learned, in the dark halls of Allerdale, not to take ghosts lightly. But still she waits, every year, for a chance to see Thomas again. Until the night their son tells her he can see him too.

Memorable quote: Snow heralds nothing but pain in Edith’s world: first her mother’s funeral, smothered in fat white flakes wet on her lashes like tears, then her father’s. Smaller ones, then, rain slowly freezing and scattering on the ground; the ones that night at Allerdale were the smallest yet, more ice pellet than snow. Jagged, hateful things scraping at her with a cold that burned through skin and encased bone.…God, how she has come to hate the snow.

Where I Can’t Follow: Co-authored by @suspendnodisbelief. show!Witcher, mild Geralt x Jaskier. (Temporary hiatus) Drawing from a variety of inspiration, including greek mythos. Geralt takes a blow meant for Jaskier, finally granted the death by battle he expects Witchers to end by. And Jaskier is not having it, at all. It’s his turn to save Geralt, even if he has to walk the entire bloody underworld to do it.

Memorable quote: “Geralt, get up. Come on, open your eyes. You’re going to upset Roach if you keep this up, and she’ll bite me. You know you aren’t allowed to be dead, because Yennefer didn’t give you permission, and neither did the Princess, and I’m pretty sure they both outrank you.”

#dragon age #Mass Effect #star wars #the mandalorian #the witcher #crimson peak #swtor #my fic #fanfic writer appreciation day

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runicrever · 5 years ago

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Primal Irken Headcanon/Alternate Universe

Hello everyone for those of you not here for the whole Headcanon or the AU story then this is where I’ll give minor explanations

First off

- HE’S NOT WEARING A BRA -

(I’m only saying this cause everyone in my household and at least one of my friends thought he was wearing a bra which isn’t the case)

The thing on his chest is a PAK stabilizer and a chest plate it’s there to protect vital organs hold the PAK more firmly in place and to block the pheromone receptors on his chest more will be explained in the head canon section

I based his design off the idea that what if a insect and a reptilian bird (aka dinosaur) were some how mixed how I came to this conclusion is the fact that Zim in the show looks very bug like but he’s green and Dib refers to him as a “lizard” at times in the show so I thought he must have lizard like skin which also would explain how flexible he’s shown himself to be which bugs can not do

This is basically my idea of what irkens long before they made proper PAKs and were planet destroying conquerors of the universe they were just little bug birds with a hierarchy similar to ants and bees where they make large hives with hundreds of thousands of irkens with a central queen and her chosen mate(s)

Zim is defective and a runt so as a smeet he’s thrown out into the wild in hopes he’d die but despite the odds he somehow barely made it to adult hood and the AU goes from there.

And FYI the first one if of him on Irk where he’s starving while the second and third are him after coming to earth and becoming much much healthier

Alright that’s the end of the introduction sorry it’s so long.. now for the hard Headcanon

- HEADCANON -

alright so to begin at the very start due to irkens showing signs of being a very unified group and seeming to act like a gigantic hive I believed that irkens came from a slightly more hive or nest like origin. the planet they lived on was rich in metals especially those that are rather rare on earth like platinum, gold, silver, titanium and others. This could mean the ground would be difficult to hallow out naturally leading to irkens to be very very skilled at hallowing out and hardening metal to make unground hives like those ants make but made of metal. I believe that they’d make sure the strongest metals were closer to the center of the nest to protect the queen and her mates.

The Original Queen how ever is the most powerful of irkens she’s huge, she’s powerful she, and oh dear god don’t piss her off or going to die! She is the only natural born queen and because of that she is the only irken queen who’s actually immortal other irkens. Like worker ants and bees are made to do their job and die as are irken soldiers and like bee and ant queens the irken queens life is FAR longer then any other irkens.

Other irken queens are females from hives that wanted to gain a mate and have smeets so the queen of such hive sends them away to find a male from a different hive. When the queen has found a mate they dig out the hole to the center of their hive and then begin having smeets. Within an irken year those smeets will be sub adults and begin serving their queen as loyal and devoted soldiers. The queen and her mate over that first year will produce pheremones that physically change their body structure so that they can do their job more effectively. The queen will get bigger and gain more fat stores so that she has lots of extra energy to make more smeets. The male mate will become leaner and taller and act as the queens advisor when not making smeets with her and instruct the other smaller irkens to do as she says or tell the queen of what’s needed for the hive.

You may be noticing a few similarities between the queen and her mate that there is between the control brains and the tallests. That is because this leads into my idea that when the Original Queen had an irken who figured out how to make PAKs to extreme the lives of irkens he began work on making it so the queens could truely live forever. This explains why the control brains oversee all major things such as executions, re-encodings, and the making, hatching, naming, and encoding of smeets. The tallests have taken on the roll of the queens mates. Due to irkens no longer actively reproducing and using cloning tubes the queens mated became permanent advisors and leaders for the rest of irkens. Which meant they no longer needed to be male and be good at making big healthy smeets instead they merely needed to be the perfect image of an irken. For the control brains still being irken queens who want tall healthy and strong looking mates they decided the tallest of irken soldiers would become tallests. Which would at least ensure the leader was tall and powerful and once they were tallest they were allowed to eat as much as they want when they want which by irken standards meant they were healthy.

In early irken society irkens were given rolls after they showed signs of talents. Theses talents were classified as Medic, Technician, Soldier, Nurse, and Drone and each irken was given their first name by the queen and their last name was their queens name and they would be given a letter in front of their name after they found their talent. For example a irken in this time maybe called S. Zept Mira which would mean the Zept was a soldier and served under queen Mira. Those serving under the Original Queen are instead given the last name of her mate Xalon since she only allows her closest protectors and her mate know her first name though a few select irkens have secretly learned of her name.

A defective irken in this time is any irken that is considered to small, malformed, hatched with a deformity, hatched with a mental disorder, or those who’s PAK can’t properly command the irken to serve their queen and respect the Original Queen. If an irken as one of these then they’re given an irken month to prove they can over come the disability but any more the one of those and their immediately thrown out to die as a tiny smeet there are a few irkens who were cast out at month who survives and formed a small tribe together and they work to together and only grow in numbers by hives casting out their month old smeets because they have no queen. When a month old is thrown out to die where they pick them up and help them until adults at which point they help the tribe but the tribe doesn’t take in hatchlings as they’d be to much work and because of this no day old has survived after being cast out. Well… all except one.

This is where the AU begins

Other more minor things to mention is the PAKs. They’re far smaller then the ones irkens wear today and have a harness like thingto stabilize them and cover the irkens sensory organs on this chest. In the comics there’s a page that shows Zim having three dots in his chest most took these to be nipples but reptiles birds and bugs don’t have that and I really don’t see irkens to be very mammalian so instead I took these to be sensory organs sort of like those in an alligators nose or those on the front edge of a viper or pythons mouth. But unlike those on reptiles they’d be some form of pheromone and hormone receptors. Yes the irkens antennae also do this but to a lesser degree. Honestly I’ve made irken antennae have a lot of different reasons for existing. The main one is hearing they’re primary purpose is feeling the vibrations of sound and sending those vibrations to organs in the skull that make sense of them and send them to the brain. The lower jaw of an irken also connects at a place very close to where the vibrations are made sense of so he can also hear through his jaw but it requires direct contact with the vibrations and his jaw to do this. So in the AU he may press his lower jaw on the ground or other solid objects to hear was going on inside them. His jaw connecting so high up on his skull is also why he can open his mouth so wide(if you don’t know what I’m talking about look at any time he screams in the show)The antennae two secondary uses are smelling/picking up pheromones and showing emotion. Firstly explaining that they also smell and register pheromones is simply connecting them to bugs. Ants bees and basically any insect senses smells and pheromones through their antennae hence why they wiggle them around at things they’re wanting to eat or at each other since pheromones are how bugs talk. But this is secondary because their tongue does the other half of smelling (cause if you didn’t know this the senses of smell and taste are actually pretty strongly linked) and the holes on his chest due the other half of pheromone reception. The emotion part how ever should be obvious.. in the show Zims antennae spring up when he’s attentive or confused and lay back more when he’s angry or worried so they’re sort of just do that naturally.

- ALTERNATE UNIVERSE STORY -

Zim just after hatching is inspected by the Queen and her mate Xalon. He’s picked up and looked over curiously as they try and figure out what’s wrong with him as they can already see he’s far FAR smaller then he should be. He came out of an average egg and there was no signs of issue but the the tiny runt smeet only was calmly curious of the new world around him. The queen called in the royal Medic and Technician to give the smeet his PAK which was done quickly. The process of putting on a PAK was incredibly painful for smeets especially smaller ones but ones in place and fully connected they ran diagnostics. Sadly for the tiny smeet the PAK informed all of them that the poor smeet wasn’t properly connecting to the PAK his brain was fighting the PAKs demands and because of such the queen sighed as she called in two of her soldiers to take the smeet to the forest to be left to die. Likely by being eaten by something or simply die of thirst and starvation.

The soldiers did as told without question as this was very standard practice for them they carried the tiny smeet by his PAK stabilizer. Once they got to the deep parts of the forest they tossed him and began walking back to the hive careful of their surroundings as the forest was home to monsters. They did not pity the smeet and they instead focused only on their own survival and the survival of their nest. Such was the way of the Irken.

The tiny abandoned smeet was very confused as to why he was dropped in this new place and merely began to explore. Everything was new to the newly hatched smeet as it calmly wondered about the forest floor. Within hours night began to fall and the tiny smeet quickly found itself getting very cold as at night the temperature on the planet quickly went down and the tiny smeet desperately tried to find a place to hide for the night as was his instinct to hide when it got dark and to huddle up when it got cold. Eventually he found a tree with a small hold where its roots had begun branching out into the ground and he crawled inside and curled up tight against a side of the hole desperately trying to stay warm during the night. He attempted to sleep as rest is important for smeets but due to the cold he got very little sleep.

By morning the smeet was tired and growing hungry and climbed out of the little hole to begin looking for food. He searched for quite a while being on high alert as his surrounds were rather concerning lots of sounds from animals could be heard and all the smeet wanted was something to eat and then go hide again. Even tally he ended up finding a berry bush and his PAK informed him that they were safe to eat so he grabbed the ones he could reach ate them quickly and looked for more food. Another few hours passed before he found a small nest of lizard legs and his PAK telling him that they were edible he grabbed a few and carried them off to his little hiding place to eat the next time he got hungry. Once back in his hole he curled up and slept until next he got hungry.

This cycle continued for most of his life until he couldn’t fit in his hiding spot any longer which at around 4 months old he began digging himself a new hiding place to live in and began making tools to catch himself food. He was an incredibly smart little irken despite his disabilities and differences and by the time he reached a year of age he had a hole that he hallowed out at the base of a tree and a deeper part below that in the ground for when winter came around. he’d relocated a few bushes he new grew edible berries to be closer to his little den as well as setting up pit traps for animals he could eat to fall into.

He’d even began going to the hive dumps and looking for scrap items he could use to built things and eventually built himself two little robots one that followed him around and watched his back when he was hunting or scavenging and a second that hovered staying close to his den to alert him if something attacked it. Both were rather adorable and due to Zims instinctive need for company and companionship both robots served a secondary purpose of being things he could hug or “talk” to when he was scared nervous or just lonely.

I say he “talked” to them with quotes because his talking was severely lacking due to the lack of actual conversing. He could speak irken of course as that was done by his PAK he had learned quickly that it was better to stay quiet making a lot of noise attracted predators and it also didn’t help that any irken he found would look at him as if he were a freak and yell at him. They’d even attack him if he was in their hunting grounds or found scavenging in their dump so he rarely spoke causing his voice to be soft and hoarse. He instead spoke to his robots in soft chirps whistles squeaks and if he was angry hisses. Irken itself was a very harsh language coming from ruff gut earl growls and high shreeky screams though some sound were softer but those were few and far between. So Zim had developed his own little language only for himself and his robots.

But one day towards the end of his 16th year in exile an odd ship landed near his den. He was terrified as he’d never seen anything like it in his life and what came out of it was even more of a shock. A tall and thin beast, it’s body was clothed in a T-shirt jeans and trench coat, his hair a dark raven black with a cowlick taking on the shape of a scythe and odd clear circles that reflected light slightly hiding his golden amber eyes. This creature was not from Irk and was both horrifying and interesting to the little irken. He was so tall and lean Zim couldn’t help but find him interesting to look at but his trench coat and glasses gave him an aura of mystery and curiosity. The human looked around his surroundings excited to have found a planet with plants and life leaving his ship unattended.

The irken approached the ship pressing his jaw against it to listen to it and found the humming drone of the engine and the buzz of electricity. He moved away from the ship and carefully approached the human. As he got closer the human turned and the two locked eyes.

And that’s what I have the AU is partly for an roleplay idea ive had but I wanted to make this post so I had some where to send people to if they wanted to try the AU in roleplaying with me. If your interested then your welcome to ask to try the RP I merely ask that I get to be Zim for it..

#Primal!AU #Primal!Zim #DoofArt #iz #invader zim

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