#LIKE A TANGIBLE EFFECT. It's kind of cool! it's part of why i love the franchise so much! because of how it represents that! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bloomeng · 7 months ago

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I was watching a video essay on SU Future and I was just reminded how much Future meant to me as it was coming out. I loved SU as a child but I sort of lost touch as I got older. It always meant a lot to me, seeing as it was a fundamental part of my childhood, but some of the glaring issues that became more apparent in later seasons endeared me less to the series. Back in middle school I didn’t really interact a lot with the fandom. I was just told from the sidelines that it was toxic and learned exactly why that was years later so I don’t really have anything to say about that. However, when SU Future came out, I was a senior in high school about to graduate during the pandemic. A lot of its themes resonated with me in a way that the rest of SU just hadn’t. The themes in SU had always been something that I really enjoyed and at times related to, but it didn’t feel as personal.

Side note about me, I’m not the kind of person who cries when I watch stuff even if it does make me sad. I can count on my hands the amount of media that has ever made me cry and by the end of SU Future I was sobbing and I had no idea why. Perhaps it was the timing or because it was the true end to a show from my childhood but that didn’t seem right, seeing as truthfully I emotionally checked out from this series years ago. At the time I didn’t really have the vocabulary to articulate why it was having such an impact on me. My life didn’t add up to Steven’s story in any tangible way that I could see. The only thing I could rationalize about why the series had such a big effect on me was that it was about change and growing up, and I was about to go off to college. Looking back I do think that’s a part of it, but I’ve come to realize it’s more complicated than that.

Pulling back from my personal experience for a minute, I was shocked to find out how many SU fans hated the series. I know at that point it had become this kind of the cool thing to shit on SU and Rebecca Sugar (which there is valid criticism in there) so I kind of took it with a grain of salt, but I was still pretty confused. I thought the series was actually very well thought out and uniquely reflective. To me, it made so much sense to explore this avenue given the nature of the show’s history. Because of course, Steven had years of pent up trauma and of course his savior complex lead to identity issues. And I was fascinated with the way this epilogue series interacted with our understanding of Steven as a character. What was once a cute little quirk of his personality was being fleshed out. We were finally seeing repercussions of the reality of self-sacrificing behavior. Whether it was the whimsy of kid logic or cartoon logic that blinded audiences, it was very overlooked that Steven based his entire personality and self-worth on helping others, and as soon as you take that away, issues are gonna arise. So personally, I thought it was brilliant to create a series where he was now older, and having to deal with the calmness in the aftermath of everything that it happened. Honestly, I think exploring that was more interesting than the series had been in years.

I’m not gonna pretend that it didn’t have hiccups, but all of SU had hiccups, and considering that, I would say this epilogue series ran way more smoothly than the last few seasons/movie ever did. And people critiqued the main series and movie, but the hard-core fans still stood by both, so I expected the same type of leeway to be given to Future. That did not happen. I kind of let it go because I never really participated in that fandom space anyway. Years later I came across a video essay talking about the series and they absolutely trashed it. So I revisited the series with their criticism in mind. I saw some of their points but I still cried at the end.

One of the most common types of criticism that I see towards Future is that people don’t like Steven. I’ve seen this take range from extremely thought out points, to simply “I found him annoying and out of character.” I’m not ever here to police how you feel about a character but hearing that take over and over again, made me realize how few people seem to understand the actual intent of the series. You can be annoyed with Steven all you want but that’s also kind of the point? Mental illness isn’t cute. Trauma isn’t cute. Steven suffers from both and his actions aren’t supposed to be cute. I think the moment where it really clicked why all of this rubbed me the wrong way was when I saw a post from some random person online who pointed out that a lot of the traits that Steven shows in Future closely emulate traits of bipolar and bpd, both of which are highly stigmatized. I’m not saying he has either of those, the traits of mental illnesses overlap all the time and honestly I don’t think it’s important that we diagnose him, but I absolutely think that it’s worth noting.

Steven’s behavior in Future is supposed to be uncomfortable. I think part of the reason why so many people had a negative reaction to Steven’s shift was— just like all of the characters in the series— they expected him to act the same way that he did when he was a little boy. It’s great to talk about mental illness when you’re discussing things like anxiety and depression but when the conversation steers into anger is generally where the line in the sand gets drawn. In some ways I understand because anger is often associated with violence, but anger is a factor for so many people when it comes to mental illness. Now that I’m older I realize the reason that Future resonated so much deeper for me was that I was seeing the nuance of a lot of complex emotions that I had experienced played out by a character I grew up alongside. So to hear so many people bitch about how annoying they found Steven was really disheartening.

I just wanna put a quick disclaimer that I do not think that this is a perfect series by any stretch of the imagination. I think— like a lot of SU— it suffered from pacing issues and I don’t even wanna touch on Jasper. That’s a whole thing within itself. Bringing it back to the beginning and the first video essay that inspired this whole post, I came across a video essay talking about the positives of SU Future and it was a relief. I don’t really have anything intelligent to say on their video other than I liked it, and I recommend it (link below) but on an emotional level, it was just good to know that I wasn’t alone in liking this series.

youtube

#steven universe #steven universe future #txt #long post #Youtube

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sister-claire-critical · 2 years ago

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Haha omg I forgot about the rocketship baby. I think also a Machina or Shard baby was planned? Hate how they took having to nerf that as a reason to take out everything- not to mention a lot of the weird humor they used as an excuse to take out things is still in there so what the fuck! (Also I liked all the stupid jokes lol I started reading when I was still a kid myself & I'm still that kind of goofy silly whimsical person now.) This comic drew me in on it's original artstyle & concept & while I can see why the art changed with a more serious tone I don't understand why the story had to change so much- the tagline used to be "pregnant nun holy crap", & it was such an effective draw-in (& short-sweet-&-to-the-point in those little sidebar ads Hiveworks used to show) that I feel like there was really no reason to get rid of it- it was like the whole thing the comic was about & advertised on! I also love to think about what could have been had they stuck with that-

I'm not sure how they would have included Gabrielle being an angel especially since Christianity existing in a tangible non-faith-based form never seemed to exist in the story, & Gabby being a sea creature/siren worked so well with what was already established even from the get-go, however her having her own motives instead of being so closely intertwined as a friend & pseudo-relative with Oscar & Catherine would have been great. Maybe she would have wanted to raise whatever Claire gave birth to as payback for having Claire sort of stolen from her. Maybe she would have thought herself a better parent to this baby than Oscar & Catherine. Maybe she could have just wanted a Clementine replacement, to bring Eden back? Literally just playing it straight that Claire would be giving birth to another new child savior. Grimm could have been a nice part of that, as Gabrielle's above-ground agent, especially since early concept art showed Gabrielle possessed by him- her taking Grimm's possession away from Catherine as a way to stay above ground would have been neat. I get that Grimm is a child but his first old appearances acted more adult, him as a former shard child now grown who also has the motive to bring back Eden would have been cool.

I do think some characters just being straight-up-bigoted then changing would have been fine & more realistic, we don't have to love or even like every character & even despite that many people do like characters with those sort of pasts. Olga's characterization seems torn in different directions, same with Marguerite. People can have complicated reasons for things- like maybe Marguerite could have lived in Eden & blamed Claire & Olga could just be a hardass brainwashed by the Helsings but instead with them any turns in behavior seem mostly influenced by the induced forgetfulness. (Also Olga forming a crush on Jackson in the current story as she softens instead of them already having a relationship would have been cute.) Olga already being a Moonwolf is just complicated on top of her innate strength magic & curse she made with Azi about turning into a werewolf- that just falls flat if she's already a barely controlled wolf-creature, why wouldn't she jump on the chance to turn into a wolf-creature that can control how they change at will? Helsings are already cool with magic so long as it progresses their cause.

Also the original way Oscar & Catherine's relationship was implied/seemed to the readers before the retcons- that if they were together in the past they'd maybe had a falling out or weren't allowed to be together due to the church & were raising the twins & Claire separately, would have made Claire & Marie's future relationship a lot less creepy. All the cute or funny moments in the comic with the twins in the abbey & right after wouldn't have had to be changed either, replaced with exposition dumps & dark moments that don't match the bright color scheme (picked for a humorous/upbeat atmosphere) drawn years ago.

If the church wasn't cool with in-dating at least (they don't have to be homophobic, could just be off-bounds because everyone is a nun, like how Claire's pregnancy had her "headed to the pyre" anyways) it also would have made Yolanda's actions more consistent, it doesn't make sense Yolanda allows so much but that she held a witch trial. Yolanda never needed to be Abby's mother but since she is, joining the church could have been motivated by a "been alive so long I feel like I need to be in a role of power to control the world" sort of thing, a more complicated role to a character that otherwise exists to be solely soft & sweet (besides the witch trial which, again, seems ooc with how she is established in the MiMos).

Someone like Magpie who took on the role of raising kids young (& loved the job unlike most people forced to be parents that young) falling in love with somebody who has the potential for that kind of child abuse when Magpie was away would have been interesting. Instead of regressing into permabird he could've just been some weird old hobo who can't stick around due to magic & his past trauma who occasionally shows up in hopes of checking on the kids to make sure Margie hasn't gotten too bad (in fact there's a livewrite where he does meet up as a human & expresses guilt & regret at Margie's behavior while he's not around) & then it could be he maybe got into trouble around the time the comic starts & hasn't been around for awhile to keep an eye on Margie. Instead Marguerite just has something akin to dementia & it's not her fault.

Claire still being pregnant & having some sort of magic pregnancy not bound by time would've both made more sense & been interesting, her character has felt very one-note for most of the comic's history until just very recently, I feel like because her character has also been torn in a few directions by all this confusion. Taking on reader input & being more open to critique would have done this webcomic a whole lot more justice.

🤩 Thank you for sharing! These are all fascinating ideas!

—Mod Marie🌸

#sister claire critical

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luaspersona · 2 years ago

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this fic was one of the best surprises i've had on this site and i can't possibly stress enough how in love with it i am.

this review comes in the fifth (maybe seventh?) time i'm reading this and i can't get enough 😭 this is so good, so charming, so fucking perfect that i need to point a bunch of this out, so bear with me 🫡

the story starts with the best use of synesthesia i've read in years. the way the reader describes yoongi's voice, and how it becomes a vessel for the attraction she feels despite the fact she's never seen him before.

the idea of rawness in his voice, of yoongi expressing himself through his cadence, his tone, his breathing… god, that's so enticing 😩 i mean, look at this paragraph 🚨

But regardless of being cut short, the metallic nature of his voice still managed to worm its way directly into your chest, where it festered into something so captivating that you couldn’t help but sigh. It was cool to the touch as the syllables of his chosen words sent an intrusion of goosebumps along your arms and thighs. It had a certain gravel, a deepness that you could sometimes feel in the pit of your belly if you listened to him long enough with your eyes closed. However, more times than not, the grit would be severed with a vibrant laugh that rang so sweetly that you could feel it clamoring around your heart with giddiness on its heels.

again: so 👏�� fucking 👏🏽 synesthesic 👏🏽

the wording, the sentencing, everything just adds up to the sensations yoongi's voice provoke — and god, if we don't know the effect his voice has 😮‍💨

but i think that the most charming aspect of the fic has to be the dialogues. they're so ridiculously smooth, so natural! and they flash out the character with such easy, it almost seems like an actual conversation transcribed. like, hobi and yoongi bickering during the podcast, their light teasing and easy back and forth: it's all so palpable and i was smiling all throughout that part (i was mostly crying in the ones after, but we'll get there), like:

“Well I am fratty, but not the douche kind.” “Debatable, but admittedly sometimes I do forget that you’re part of Delta Delta Dickhead.” “Fuck you.” “That’s next week’s topic, sorry for the wait.”

and the whole KJ Apa tangent too omg.

and ugh, hobi's so fucking unserious, i couldn't DEAL with him, i was wheezing 😭:

“You cried for hours over that fucking sports anime, Ace of some shit. I had to buy you like three pizzas just to calm your ass down – which you never Venmo'd me back for… just sayin'.”

but also:

“Oh my god, wow I'm getting so hard just thinkin about those flexible paper rectangles. Mhm, oh yeah.”

or even:

“—College sex life! That’s right, my friends, we’re gonna get all down in that bow chicka wow wow nitty gritty—”

gdi, why can't mixtape be a real thing 😠 not to mention this story had such strong early 2000's romcom vibes (without all the problematic and misogynistic shit ofc).

(quick sidenote before continuing: i first thought i misread yoongi's pseudo in the show, but when the café scene happened omg lmao is was so gooood 😩)

i also want to talk about the tone of the story, because the control you have over the atmosphere and the overall feel of the scenes is p-e-r-f-e-c-t 😭 i was drawn into their interactions and their banter so easily, because it's so damn captivating: everything feels tangible.

and god!! your yoongi 🗣

soooooooo hot, so sexy ugh, the ✨things✨ he says to reader while always making sure of her consent and being mindful of her comfort — as if my standard for men can afford to get bigger??

and 👏🏽 when 👏🏽 they 👏🏽 meet

god, this pairing was written with such nice and natural chemistry. i loved their dialogues and how smoothly their interaction turns flirty, and even if they get super into each other after a couple of days together, it doesn't feel rushed at all because you make us feel their chemistry right off the bat! god, i wish i knew more adjectives to praise you like you deserve 😠

and like, even the way yoongi makes the proposition! how they lock eyes and the stare turns into mutual understanding and then to tension. not to mention the way he asks to eat her out in the most respectful way, like??

but it's the constant reassuring that gets me tho, like:

“Not at all,” He replied, confidence dripping past his lips. “Just you, honestly. You’re someone that looks like they need help focusing, who happens to have an unopened pack of flashcards that they seemed to have purchased for a certain reason. But please tell me if I’m wrong or if you’re just not interested. If that’s the case, then I’ll be happy to help you study in whatever… mundane way that you want. I’ll even spot you a coffee.”

and even after her initial consent, he never assumes she's comfortable: he asks for her confirmation, and even waits for her to relax before touching her like🚨🚨🚨 (the sirens are me screaming).

and as if all that wasn't enough there's the teasing too😭 yoongi's so fucking hot here, like—

Your brows furrowed in confusion, but admittedly it piqued your interest. “Practice round? Don’t exactly think you’re brave enough to lay me out on this table and just go for it in the middle of the library.” “Wanna see if that’s true?” He asked, a certain fire flaring across his eyes. It sent a swirl of arousal through your lower stomach, but you quickly pulled it back in.

YES I WANNA

ahem

*clears throat*

and the fact that he knows how fucking sexy he is, god, his cockiness was so gooood:

“Ah, glad my intellect hasn’t been overshadowed by the things you’re picturing my mouth and hands doing to you right now.” You bit at your lip to try and stifle the grin that threatened to split across your face, and Yoongi seemed highly amused with your failed attempt.

but he can be so cute and sweet too:

“But c’mon, time for you to learn what’s in that pretty head of yours.”

and the same goes for reader! she's so relatable, suffering that pied piper syndrome not being able to study because of min yoongi 😔 oh bestie i feel you. but she's also super funny and sexy 😩

“How about how fast you can make me cum?”

it made me scREAM, like, when she actually started to feel herself and got comfortable with the situation i was gone

and 👏🏽 the 👏🏽 smut

the teasing, the edging, the begging — but also the learning! and the studying! that's what this was all about folks 🥹 no but, for real, i really liked every single aspect of this story, from the tone, to the wording, to the humor, to the teasing, the dialogues and the smut. the pairing was unbelievably sweet and i was so into them.

thank you for taking your time writing this, author! it made me so happy and your words brought me peace at some weird, difficult times, so i really appreciate it 🥺💐

mixtape (m)

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre: smut, fluff, comedy / college, podcast personality au

word count: 15,610

description: Two mystery students from your college run the podcast dubbed ‘mixtape.’ It’s become a sort of phenomenon around campus, listened to by almost everyone. In their most recent episode they discussed various study methods… One of them being oh so tempting.

“This week’s topic is—” Sugar started, of course only to be swiftly interrupted by the second half of the two-man show podcast that had sort of gone viral around your college campus.

“—Studying! So sexy, right?” Jay interjected mid-sentence, something that anyone who listened to their weekly episodes would quickly learn is a norm.

However, there were times of course where Sugar was allowed the courtesy of going off on long tangents without his friend’s interruption, and in those moments his voice was hypnotic, if you had to put it simply. It tugged you beneath the current of concentration until you were pressing the volume button on your phone to raise his vocals higher. The small hitch of his breath, or exhale against the mic when he would sigh due to the topic at hand, they made you lean in closer to the invisible man on the other side of the pre-recorded audio that filtered through your headphones.

Keep reading

#myg:fic #myg:smut #myg:crack #myg:fluff #myg:college #myg:s2l #myg:oneshot #myg:explicit #luareads

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tentacledtherapist · 9 months ago

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Lisa,

The stars are beautiful. While I was away I was picking out all the same constellations. I also don't see them often, so when I go to my events and wind up deep in the woods, I love to look up and see them. Its comforting to think that we see the same stars. You definitely seem to know more of them than I do, but the songs and poetry were right. When they shine so brightly it makes the world seem so small and the universe so unbelievably big. I normally don't see any, and my events I see more and clearer than ever, but sometimes I get so far out of the way of humans that I can see the stars so densely packed and so bright that it was like I was floating through space. Truly mind boggling.

I don't mind the nicknames either by the way. I appreciate them, actually. I like being Creech or Creature or Adam! I'm sorry for not writing sooner, I wanted to wait for you to come back. I turned on notifications, so when you post I come back online to see the answers. If you ever need me, just post something and I will be here.

Last time we wrote you mentioned liking theme parks because of practical effects and I completely agree. The abilities of people to basically make dreams come true is fascinating. It is why one of my favorite rides is the Haunted Mansion. The ability to make the incorporeal ghosts into something visible and tangible, but still ghostly, is a daunting task but they did a really good job. Maybe this is also why I like theatre. I'm not crazy about theatre like some people, I don't go to massive broadway productions or have a favorite musical, but I've studied theatre and its the backstage I love more than the acting or singing. Again, its the fantasy come to life. Making ghosts real, making clothing transform before your eyes, people catching fire but never getting hurt. The real practical effects, that feel like youre reaching out to touch a dream. I love that.

You had asked about my event, and its actually an ongoing campaign. I go every month, and its almost like theatre. Everyone has their own characters, and every month we get together, about a hundred of us, in a campground pretty far out of the way (so no one hears us screaming). Its a large ongoing story with a lot of interesting moving parts. I think something that is fascinating is that there's parts of the plot I might not even see or know is going on. Theres so many people with their own individual plots and ideas and stories all combining at the event that its such a mixed bag of what you interact with. My character was actually a zombie that came back into sentience. She is still cursed to need to eat flesh, but she does so with regret and anguish about hurting people, especially because she is a doctor. She kind of became a surgeon to give back to the people who take care of her. If she can heal and save more people than she hurts, she figures its a fair deal for her continued existence in a world where she looks like the monsters everyone fears and fights daily. Its such a fascinating character to play. You can see why I grew attached not only to her but our shared source as well. I have a soft spot for those who have defied the laws of nature, and find themselves out of time and place.

Kind of like us.

-Your Creature

creech! oh i’m really glad to hear from you. i was sort of worried that i was just, yelling out to the void, but i’m very happy that wasn’t the case. (and i’m glad you’re okay with the nickname :D)

i hope you’ve been well while i’ve been ‘away.’

that campaign sounds like so much fun??? i play dnd a lot, but it’s so different at a table than actually dressing up and acting things out? i enjoy theater as much as the next person who was in choir as a kid, but that sort of,,, acting is something i really admire? being able to step outside yourself or see yourself through someone or something else? it’s really cool. it sounds like so so much fun :D

the haunted mansion is one of my favorite attractions too! the one by me (west coast, so disneyland) is currently under renovation for the whole year ‘cause they’re completely gutting the queue, which is disappointing, but it’s not as if i really have the money to go to disneyland so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. pepper’s ghost effect is just so versatile and so incredible? it’s just Everywhere and it’s so cool? plus all those early day animatronics, and the everything else? really really incredible

there’s something similar to your event that happens at a local theme park near me? they have this old west ghost town themed area, and every day for all of summer, every summer, they have a bunch of actors filling every building and running around doing all sorts of shenanigans. it’s much less Serious than a zombie apocalypse, moreso a fight between two silly rival criminal gangs, but there’s just so much going on, you could spend all day walking around maybe a few hundred square feet of land and still not be privy to everything? it’s something really cool

i have a fondness for ‘beauty and the beast’ type stories. there’s this sort of,,, fear that people wont love you anymore (however you define love) if they see the ‘weird’ or ‘scary’ parts of you. so you show them the distasteful parts first. and if they love you anyways? becoming more… human through love? there’s something innately reassuring about that sort of love

i dunno. i guess you can start to see why i latched on to our story. (besides the obvious of remembering things). beauty and the beast, pride and prejudice, eros and psyche, lisa frankenstein, etc… i just… that’s a sort of story i find solace in. seeing people find humanity in each other. and growing through their own troubles because they have someone there to support them and to lean on.

- Your Lisa

#ps: i only know a lot about the stars ‘cause one of my younger brothers had an astronomy special interest #i learned a lot to keep up with him #i wouldnt really know much outside of that since i so rarely see stars #but you can see so much from 9000ft up above the cloud layer!#i know a lot of people get weirded out by the knowledge of how small they are in the universe #but its comforting to me #to know that no matter what you do it wont *really* matter #then i can make my own meaning #life is mine to figure out what i want to do with it #it makes that fear of dying without ‘doing something meaningful’ completely moot #i also like planes for that reason #i have more star photos if you want ‘em too!

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baddieladdie · 2 years ago

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In my Sanctuary, Valentine

Chapter 1 Rating: G

Part II Link

Nick Valentine sat upright on a red crushed velvet chaise. The brim of his hat disguised his eyes as he looked down at the hands that hung in his lap. Waiting.

"Hey, Valentine" I gave a half hearted wave as I walked towards the gen-1 synth I was fortunate enough to call friend. His somber glowing eyes slowly met mine as I stopped still before him.

"Hope you got what you were looking for inside my head. Heh. I was right. Should've killed you when you were on ice." The usual milk of human kindness Nick’s voice possessed was gone. Only the familiar voice of the murderous bastard who took my son. Kellogg.

"You… feeling alright Nick?" Panic crept up my spine as my mouth went dry. He knew the risks. He was so insistent…and without him-

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?” Nick responded in his usual gruff, but tender tone.

"You sounded like Kellogg just then."

"Did I?” Nick blinked. “Amari said there might be some "mnemonic impressions" left over…Anyway, I feel fine, so let's get going.” He paused, noticing Preston across the room chatting with Irma. “Or I could head back to Diamond City, since you've got company already."

"Thanks for offering, but I want you with me on this, Nick.” I waved over to Preston, motioning for him to approach.

“Preston, could you head back to the Castle? There's more than anyone’s fair share of work needed there to restore the Caste to its former glory. I can meet you there after I take Nick to sanctuary. I’m not sure how long I will be gone, but there’s more than enough to keep you busy. If you run into any trouble, broadcast it on Radio Freedom. I’ll have my pip boy tuned in as we travel to Sanctuary.”

"Good plan, General. I know I'm leaving her in good hands, Nick." Preston smiled, tipping his hat slightly in respect. "Be careful out there"

"I'll keep out of trouble if she does" Nick chuckled in response.

I extended my open hand, ready to finally hit the road. "Let's get going, Nick"

"Been one heck of a ride so far." Nick took my hand and I pulled him to his feet. "Let's see where it takes us next."

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

"So why make a detour to Sanctuary? Need something?" Nick asked, his stride parallel to mine. I looked up at the towering Red Rocket sign that blocked the sun, casting a cool shadow on us - an already chilly autumn day. "Yeah, you could say that." I shrugged.

"Well, alright. What are we looking for?"

"Remember when I mentioned I had served in the military before I had Shaun?" Nick gave a slow, apprehensive nod. "I didn't mention which division. I worked in R&D as an electrical engineer. Some of my research may very well have ended up in the wrong hands. Perhaps the hands of the institute. We closely worked with C.I.T.. I had a workshop in my basement, stocked with supplies for my engineering hobbies. Some of it undamaged by the nuclear fallout."

"Sure, sure. But why send Preston to the Castle? Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to be back on the road with you, but you two seemed like you were in the middle of something."

I swallowed my concern as we passed the signature welcome sign, now barely legible after 200 years of neglect. Kellogg was frightening. But the thought of losing my first and most trusted friend in this hellscape of a wasteland was worse. I killed Kellogg. He died like any man, if you could still call that cyborg a man. To lose Nicky - it wasn’t a tangible fear or mortal foe. Just a reminder that the loss of my pre-war life couldn’t stop my ability to love. Frightening but exhilarating all the same.

"You sounded like Kellogg, Nick. His voice...it's unmistakable. His cold voice coming from your body.” My fingers dragged along the rusty tip of the empty mailbox leaving orange dust on my finger tips. “I need to know you’re okay."

"Amari mentioned side effects-" Nick started before I interrupted him, pausing to face him at the doorway of what remained of my home.

"And I want to make sure that's all they are. I can't have my best friend turning into my worst enemy - or worse - because he wanted to help me find my son."

“I certainly hope that never happens. If you think you can help, then I’m all for it. Lead the way.” He paused for a moment, following me inside. “And - Thanks”

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

"Please, have a seat," I motioned to the cushioned, armless chair I had dragged into the center of my workspace. It had survived the blast relatively well. I thanked my lucky stars I moved my equipment out of Shaun’s room and into our cement basement.

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Nick seated himself comfortably, watching me sort through my equipment. Electrical lubricating oil. Magnifier. Circuit tool set. Soldering iron. Few more things...I piled my things onto a surgical tray I placed next to the cushioned chair. “Alright, that should be everything. Shall we take a closer look at those circuits?”

“No time like the present. Where did you have in mind?”

My eyes darted from the exposed steel on his face to the skeletal aluminum hand that drummed on his thigh. The exposed circuitry by his ear there…If the institute created synths based on human design, then the motherboard should be accessible from there…But Nick’s sitting in my one good chair…

"Mind if I sit on you? I need to get a good angle to check you out."

"I-um…sure." Nick raised his arms slightly to make room for my waist as I lowered myself down on him, our faces inches apart. His arms found a resting spot just behind my ass.

“Comfortable enough for you?” Valentine chuckled. “‘Suppose I can add ‘chair’ to the list of services I provide.” I stifled a smile, acutely aware that this is the closest we have been together. It was only from here I noticed the distinct smell of burnt copper. A circuit must have shorted out. Easy fix, just need to redirect from the damaged part. A seared circuit should be easy enough to see… I clicked my flashlight on and gestured to the right. “Look over here, Nicky. I'm gonna take a look through this crevice in your neck here."

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Nick Valentine : POV

He couldn't find a place for his hands. Nick Valentine-the-synth hadn’t been this close to a human woman yet, there never was a reason to. Between the anti-synth rhetorique and his own complicated existence, it wasn’t something he had sought out - despite the institute being ‘generous’ enough to ensure he could pass as human - parts ‘n’ all. Nick Valentine-the-human, however, remembered exactly what it was like. Jennifer Lands had been his girl long, long ago.

Nora's soft breast pressed tightly against the well worn fabric of his dress shirt. Her bosom tenderly brushed between his suspenders as she observed the inside of his metal mind. She mumbled frustratedly under her breath, searching for any damage.

Her weight suddenly shifted down on his member, sending an electrical shock of pleasure and surprise up his spine. A groan broke through his lips from the sensation, guttural and primal. Nora’s warm finger guided his face directly to her worried gaze. Those eyes…Nick hadn’t noticed she had brown in those emerald green eyes of hers.

“Am I hurting you?” She asked, her voice was soft and caring. So unlike the wasteland her vault had protected her from.

“Not at all, far from it. Please continue.” He smiled in return.

“Good, I’m almost finished here. Turns out Kellogg’s memory chip wasn’t completely disconnected. Now, hold still please, this requires precision.”

Nora pivoted Nick’s head to the side and reached for the magnifying glass and tweezers kept on the surgical tray. She pressed herself tightly against him, pinning him to the chair. He could feel each subtle motion of her breasts, hips, and ass as she adjusted to work in the narrow exposed face. Pressure began building against trousers as her hips jerked forward into his. Trying to get a closer view, most likely. But damn…did it feel like something else…something the old Nick remembered and his subroutines understood.

“I - Nick please, I’m trying to focus,” Nora teased, her delicate thumb stroking Nick’s cheek, the other holding the tweezers.

“I can’t help it,” The words stumbling out of his mouth awkwardly.

“I - Oh, Really? I didn’t know you had feelings for me.”

“With your son…your husband…I figured it was in bad taste”

“Believe me, Nick, there is nothing I want more. The last thing I want is to be alone right now”

“Well then…what would that make us? Are we still partners or something more?”

“Anything you want to be, Valentine,” She flirted back.

Nick took a moment to process, feeling out the gravity of the conversation. She was human, after all. A woman out of time, unsoiled by 200 years of mayhem. He could hardly say the same for himself. He’d say his body had seen better days, but he wasn’t even the institute's best work. Nick rested his skeletal hand on her exposed thigh, it was cool to the touch. The ratty skirt he had bought for her from Fallon’s had quickly become her favorite. Nick wouldn’t admit it directly, but he admired how lovely she looked too.

“But..a body in tatters and a head full of memories belonging to another man…might make things though sometimes. So…knowing that…are you in?” He asked hesitantly, begging her to say yes but willing to let her go at a simple no.

“Of course I am. I’m not a simple case either. And, Nick, I can’t help the way that I feel…I’m in love with you”

“I, uh…uh well, I love you too. Maybe that's all that matters.

Soft lips pressed against his in the dusty basement. Hands, delicate and whole, held his face tenderly against hers. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug, completing the embrace.

Accompanying music, if you'd like: The Nearness of You

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^ This is also published on my ao3.

Geeze, time just flies by when you're writing. I didn't get to the spicy content yet, but I'm at least at that point now. Ready to continue next weekend!

#nick valentine #Fallout 4 smut #Smut #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #fanfics #Fallout 4 #Fallout fanfic #fo4 #Sole Survivor #nick valentine x reader #nick valentine fanfic

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sooibian · 3 years ago

Text

So Let's Runaway - Costa Brava

Prologue >> Costa Brava >> Seville >> Cuéllar

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Fem!Reader ft. bff!Chanyeol

Genre/Themes: Fluff, angst, humour, travel AU, road trip through Spain, travel buddies Chansoo

Warnings: Grief, loss, heartache, toxic relationships, mildly explicit language

Description: A bachelors trip turns into a soul-searching journey when an unlikely group of three travels through the scenic landscapes of Spain. Their experiences present them with opportunities to mend bridges, face their fears and fall back in love with the true essence of life.

Word Count: ~ 5.3k

A/N: this story is a part of @supermwritersnet ‘Around the world in 31 days’ event. event masterlist.

Tag list: @sooadorable @rosetvler @changshapatrol @his-mochi-cheeks @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt @j-pping @kysoobydoobydoo @exoxobsession @camillapad @reekyungsoo let me know if you’d like to be (un)tagged.

@smolgirlbigthoughts thank you so much for the description!!! ;~~~~~;

After having stayed the night (or whatever was left of it after a red-eye flight) in an Airbnb in Barcelona, the three of you hired a Lyft to Europcar to pick up the SUV that Chanyeol had pre-booked for the Costa Brava - Seville - Cuéllar itinerary. What you’d gathered from your several conversations with Chanyeol after that serendipitous coffee date was that each of the three friends had handpicked an adventure sport to try out in these places.

Chanyeol had chosen scuba diving in the rugged coast of Costa Brava with its spectacular cliffs and countless coves. Kyungsoo had appositely picked out an adventure sport involving throwing oneself out of an airplane thousands of feet above ground a.k.a. skydiving in Seville, the capital of Andalusia, resting, wise and old, upon the Guadalquivir river. And Yixing, bless his heart, had wanted to take part in a bull run in Cuéllar that takes place on the last Sunday of August each year.

Twirling the car key on his finger, Chanyeol, dressed in baggy black shorts, a loose fitting purple tee, super dark oversized shades and a snapback cap worn backwards, strongly resembled that ‘smiling face with the sunglasses’ emoji as he walked out of the booking office with Kyungsoo following closely behind. All set to catch a few winks in the rear seat comfort of the SUV, you pulled down the brim of your sunhat but suddenly, a blur of turquoise swooped past you, capturing your attention. Your drowsy eyes wrestled the summer sun to land upon a gorgeous turquoise Buick convertible swerving around the parking area before coming to a fashionable halt. A portly, bespectacled man stepped out of the vehicle and deposited its key with the booking office.

This was it.

This was the car ideal for a road trip, not some mafia boss’ kidnapping vehicle.

The essence of time dawned upon you so you trotted to where the Buick was parked and went down on your knees, hands folded in an implicit plea. The two men, startled at first, were quick to realize what was up.

Kyungsoo fixed you with a judgemental gaze that wasn’t any different from a mother’s fed-up of her child’s tantrums while Chanyeol broke into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Shoulders hunched under the weight of his tan leather backpack, Kyungsoo crammed his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants and sighed, “The SUV’s more practical.”

With a twinkle in your eye, you exclaimed, “Screw practical! Just look at it! It’s a convertible and we’re on a road trip!”

Grinning from ear to ear, Chanyeol advanced towards you gingerly. “Shifu, my love-”

Jutting out your lower lip, you crossed your arms over your chest and whined, “Don’t call me that after you’ve ditched me for Miss Perfect Hair!” causing Kyungsoo to roll his eyes which distracted you from Chanyeol’s stealth attack.

All of a sudden, the beanpole leapt at you, maneuvered you like he would a balloon sculpture, tucked his arms under your knees, picked you up and shoved you in the backseat of the dreary black vehicle with sun shades on windows darker than Kyungsoo’s soul. With Chanyeol’s finger pressing down on the ridge between your eyebrows, you laid down on your back, sulking, “Some road trip this is. Can I atleast drive?”

Before slamming the car door shut, he teased, “Take a nap.”

And...you tried.

Forty five minutes into the drive, you tried so hard to make up for the red-eye flight but Kyungsoo’s phone Just. Wouldn’t. Stop. Ringing. To make matters worse, he sounded like a broken record parroting the words ‘margin call’, ‘shorting’, ‘S’, ‘B’, ‘stop loss’ over and over again. The same damn thing, every single time.

“Enough Kyungsoo! We’re on a vacation, dude,” Chanyeol chided, the almost indiscernible crack in his voice indicative of his annoyance.

Leaning back into his seat, Kyungsoo bragged, “The last thirty seconds earned me enough commission to be able to buy at least five bags of the kind I bought Aera yesterday.”

“Now, why would you buy Aera a bag?” Chanyeol asked, a hint of suspicion evident in his tone. The sounds of their voices had been mercilessly thwarting your attempts at a peaceful slumber but, this was different. The lack of response from Kyungsoo seemed to have piqued your interest. Your eyes fluttered open to a one eighty shift in Chanyeol’s mood. Brows knit together, his fingers impatiently drummed on the steering wheel as you both waited for Kyungsoo’s answer with a bated breath. But in his stead, it was his stupid phone that broke the silence.

Wide eyes fixated on the screen, Kyungsoo suddenly cried out, “Stop the car!”.

“What?!”

“Stop the car, Chanyeol!”

Letting out an exasperated groan, Chanyeol rashly veered the car to the right before hitting the brakes, causing you to nearly roll off your seat. Kyungsoo darted out of the vehicle and the next thing you knew, he stood facing the hood of the vehicle, his laptop perched atop the bonnet and his life support cellphone clutched in one hand.

Bowing to the screen, he greeted, “Moshi Moshi!”

“Is he taking a work call right now?” you mused.

Chanyeol snorted, “That’s Doh Kyungsoo for you.”

Chuckling softly, you squished your face against the back of Chanyeol’s seat and groused, “Well, along with loony, your friend seems to be fluent in Japanese.”

“Yah! Cut him some slack. He’s had a rough couple of weeks,” explained Chanyeol, wrestling with a bag of chips in his hands.

“Yeollie -”

It was on the tip of your tongue.

You wanted to tell Chanyeol about your encounter with Kyungsoo on the rooftop but there was no way you could explain your own presence in the first place. To make matters worse, you were the worst liar you knew. So, you decided it was a story that best remained untold for your own sake, your mother’s and inadvertently, Kyungsoo’s.

“Yeah?”

“Can I have a chip?” you asked instead.

“All yours!”

“I’ll have just one, thanks.”

“You alright, Shifu?” Chanyeol slurred around a mouthful of chips, “Is there anything you need?”

“A nap would be nice,” you jested while nibbling at the edges of the deep fried snack.

“Aww, sleepyhead, we’ll be there in an hour.”

Humming in agreement, you reached for another chip and cooed, “Are you alright, Yeol? What’s with the whole ‘bag for Aera’ situation?”

Chanyeol’s head spun around to give you a warm, dimpled smile. “Don’t worry. It’s not what you’re thinking.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he had wolfed down an entire packet of chips in a matter of minutes along with a can of some neon and black fizzy drink. A distant memory of Chanyeol guzzling an entire bottle of water in three seconds for shits and giggles back in Uni stretched your lips in a wistful smile.

By then, Kyungsoo was done with his twenty minute long call against the quaint cerulean and stone backdrop of fishing villages by the coast. Who needs a virtual background when you’re surrounded by coves of deep blue sea and beaches of golden sand? As he reached for the car door, you whispered in Chanyeol’s ear, “One more call and I’m chucking his phone out the window.”

Grinning mischievously as he fastened his seatbelt, Chanyeol sang, “Oh, Shifu, I’ve missed youuuu!”

The moment Kyungsoo stepped inside, a tangible gloom proliferated in the enclosed space. Chanyeol started the car and you quietly curled up in the backseat. Kyungsoo’s head spun around, round eyes blazing with conviction. Pointing towards the trunk, he said, “Do you see that cloth bag on top of Chanyeol’s trolley?”

“This one?” you asked, hoisting yourself up on one elbow, your arm carelessly flapping all over the luggage before landing on said cloth bag with a dull thump.

“Hand it over, please,” winced Kyungsoo, “Be gentle, it’s a gift.”

Passing him his precious ‘gift’, you let out an annoyed huff and laid down again, facing the backrest. But curiosity got the better of you. You immediately turned back around to see what this ‘gift’ looked like.

Kyungsoo loosened the strings of the canvas tote to reveal a black Birkin Cargo. Soft and lightweight, it was supposed to be Hermès first off-road bag. Your droopy eyes flew open in awe of its high-brow craftsmanship and it was certainly a thoughtful gift for a bride-to-be. If this gift was meant for you, you were sure to forgive any and all of his crimes but the bag didn’t seem to have the same kind of effect on Chanyeol.

The air was still thick with tension.

Gaze fixed on Chanyeol’s profile, Kyungsoo murmured, “I didn’t want to do this now.”

Eyes on the road, “Spill,” grunted Chanyeol, as if expecting the obvious.

“This is an ‘I’m sorry’ gift for Aera,” started Kyungsoo before lowering his voice to a whisper, “I picked it up from duty free last night...it’s fifteen times Yixing’s annual agricultural income.”

Chanyeol clicked his tongue in disapproval at Kyungsoo’s snide remark.

“What do you want to apologize to her for?” he then asked with a deep sigh.

“I- I can’t make it to the wedding,” said Kyungsoo, faltering in his otherwise steadfast speech.

“Why?” quizzed Chanyeol in a terrifyingly cool tone while anger started to rise within you. Why he allowed this midget to walk all over him was beyond you. Didn’t he have better friends?

“I pushed back an important appointment for this trip. It was either Spain or the wedding. And since you insisted on Spain...”

Furious, Chanyeol struck the steering wheel with his palm. With the rattle of the metal strap of his Rolex reverberating in the car, he bellowed, “The actual fuck, Doh Kyungsoo?!”

“What?! I said I’m sorry!”

“No, you didn’t! Besides, ‘sorry’ doesn’t fix anything! You’re supposed to be my best man - are- are you listening to yourself right now?!”

Chewing on the insides of his cheeks, Kyungsoo patiently waited for his friend to simmer down. After a pregnant pause, Chanyeol resumed reasoning with him, his tone evidently milder this time, “Okay, okay, talk to me. Does this appointment have to be on the exact same day as the ceremony?”

“No, it doesn’t and...it isn’t,” Kyungsoo explained before hurriedly requesting, “Can we do this later?”

Chanyeol took a sharp right turn along the tapering road and brought the car to a screeching halt. Brows furrowed, lips quirked in an angry smirk, he looked Kyungsoo straight in the eyes and you felt as if the air conditioner had suddenly started meting out the chilliest of blows.

“No, I want to talk about it right now! So, tell me. What’s more important than your best friend’s wedding?”

Kyungsoo took off his glasses, threw his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Chanyeol, please -”

“No, I need to know!”

“Then remember it was you who wanted to have this conversation on the first day of our trip,” he stated curtly.

“Enough with the drama Kyungsoo!” Chanyeol’s roar rang through the car.

“FINE!” Kyungsoo grumbled, “I got a job offer from the London office and...I accepted. I leave a week after we’re back in Seoul….since it’s a new position I cannot fly back for the wedding. And I would’ve...I- I was going to fly back for the wedding had it not been for this trip.”

“So you decided to leave. Forever. Just like that. Without even talking to me about it first.” Chanyeol thought out loud, his tone tellingly casual.

Looking out the window, Kyungsoo whispered audibly, “There’s nothing left for me in Seoul.”

Without another word, Chanyeol started the car.

Putting his glasses back on, Kyungsoo threw his hands up and argued, “So you’re not going to say anything?!”

Chanyeol cranked up the volume on the car’s stereo in response, leaving Kyungsoo tongue-tied.

***

Ten minutes into the drive, Kyungsoo’s phone blew up for, conservatively, the fifteenth time. But before he could even swipe to answer, Chanyeol lowered the car window, plucked his phone out of his hand and chucked it into the shrubbery by the roadside and continued to drive at an accelerated speed.

Kyungsoo’s mouth fell open but no words came out and unbeknownst to you, you were mirroring the dazed look on his face.

Chanyeol stuck his thumb out to where you were seated and justified indifferently, “It was her idea.”

It wasn’t a house. It was a warzone.

The spacious three bedroom apartment had invisible borders drawn out and nobody dared to encroach upon the other’s territory.

After arriving in Costa Brava, the three of you settled in and freshened up before heading out for a scheduled theoretical lesson on scuba diving conducted by your PADI certified instructor. The lesson had ended sometime around sunset and through the entire thing, you acted like complete strangers, making it more awkward than necessary for the twenty something instructor.

After the lesson, Kyungsoo offered to drive the trio to a boutique hotel, Hostal Sa Rascassa’s restaurant, which was supposed to be located on the edges of a tranquil, secluded cove and served traditional sea-food centric dishes like -

“- grilled sardines, cod fishcakes and octopus stewed with onion and pepper,” Kyungsoo counted on his fingers, making your stomach growl and your mouth water.

Chanyeol brushed him aside with a bitter, “I’m not hungry.”

Turning to you, Kyungsoo asked politely, “Wanna come?”

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Chanyeol shooting you a death glare so you decided to wriggle out of the situation by citing tiredness.

Kyungsoo lifted his shoulders in a dismissive shrug and took off in a taxi, leaving the car to the two of you.

“Where do you wanna eat?” Chanyeol asked as you got into the passenger’s seat.

Slack jawed, you chastised a giggling Chanyeol, “Yeollie, you’re absolutely horrible!”

It had been months.

Months since Natasha had walked out of their shared apartment.

And ever since then, every night, the moment Kyungsoo’s head would hit the pillow, a sense of hopelessness would erupt right in the middle of his chest. Spreading its wings far and wide, this despair would engulf him entirely and render him sleepless.

Nothing he tried helped his disposition so he’d started working on accepting this feeling as an inextricable part of his being. Something he’d have to learn to live with for the rest of his life.

Overcome by exhaustion, Kyungsoo drifted off only to be jolted awake by a jarring memory.

Hands balled into fists, Natasha yelled, ‘HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?’

‘This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Natasha! This deal could help us!’ Kyungsoo thundered in the face of her dogged determination to not let this slide.

‘Can’t you see that I don’t care?’ She met his bloodshot eyes with tears welling in hers.

Brows knit together, Kyungsoo ruminated on his thoughts before firing back, ‘Are you saying that you don’t care about my life?’

Exasperated, Natasha ran a hand through her hair to ground herself and argued, ‘Stop it, Kyungsoo! Don’t confuse your work with your life! Your work isn’t your life. It’s just a part of it. WHAT ABOUT US?’

‘Us?’ Kyungsoo deliberated, ‘I bought this apartment so that we could live together.’

Natasha retracted with every step Kyungsoo took towards her, expression coloured in unpleasant shades of anger and disgust. Letting out a mirthless laugh, she taunted, ‘Oh, please! You bought this apartment to impress people with your upmarket address.’

Aghast, Kyungsoo sank into the couch, his mind flitting between despair and hope. Head in his hands, breathing jagged and raspy, he reasoned, ‘I can’t believe you’re saying this to me! I’m planning a future with you.’

‘The future is yet to come, Kyungsoo. WHAT ABOUT OUR PRESENT?’

‘STOP YELLING!’

‘THEN LISTEN TO ME!’

Hands on his knees, Kyungsoo’s gaze shot up to rest upon Natasha’s flushed face. ‘What do you want?’ He demanded in a terrifyingly low tone.

A silent tear slid down her cheek as she explained with a quiver in her voice, ‘I want your time, Kyungsoo. I want a relationship not a retirement plan.’

Helpless, Kyungsoo toyed with the words in his mind before blurting, ‘If the chairman of Nakamura Corporation wants to meet me then I have- to- go! If he likes the presentation, he’ll give us the entire account. Don’t you see how big this is for me?’

‘But what about us, Kyungsoo? What about our dinner plan?’

‘We can postpone it to next month, can’t we?!’

‘It’s my birthday, Soo. I can’t postpone my birthday. You’d promised me this dinner...no matter what! You cancelled the reservation without even asking me first.’

Cupping her face in his hands, he pressed his lips to hers and whispered, ‘Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...but I have to go.’

When you padded into the living room, sleep befuddled at 5 a.m., you caught Chanyeol and Kyungsoo locked in an embrace, both of their eyes squeezed shut, as if wordlessly conveying an incredible degree of warmth and affection towards each other.

All of it….in “bro code”.

You imagined the conversation in your head, in two deep, distinct male voices:

‘I’m sorry I threw your phone out the window, bro!’

‘It’s what I deserved, bro!’

Rubbing away the drowsiness from your eyes, you tiptoed back into your room so as to not disrupt this….whatever this was supposed to be.

***

Underneath the purple-pink skies, enveloped in the cool early morning breeze, Kyungsoo, Chanyeol, and you, dressed in spandex scuba suits, huddled together in solidarity on the boat’s bulwark.

The diving site that Chanyeol had picked was called ‘Boreas Wreck’. The Boreas was a high sea tugboat that served for the German Navy during World War II. It was deliberately sunk in 1989 for the purpose of creating an artificial reef and thus, a scuba diving attraction.

“Any non-swimmers?” the trainer asked and Kyungsoo’s hand shot up in the air.

Her full lips curled up in a dazzling smile. “You’re brave,” she remarked and you heard Kyungsoo swallow hard, inviting a snigger from Chanyeol.

Hands on hips, her perfect figure accentuated by the spandex, she instructed, “You will be diving deep into this sea now, do you remember the theoretical part I taught you on the shore?”

Chanyeol and you were confident (and loud) in your affirmation.

Kyungsoo, not so much.

With the bulky dive equipment on, the instructor created a circle with her thumb and forefinger, gesturing, “All okay?”

The three of you responded by following suit.

First dive, twelve metres depth.

You’d become the proverbial fish out of water except you were not the fish and you were under water and your whole world had been turned upside down….quite literally.

You spun around to find the instructor assisting Chanyeol with his breathing rhythm and Kyungsoo curled up like a shrimp, hugging his knees. Arm extended, he gave you a “thumbs up” which meant an entirely different thing under water from what it did on land.

Thumbs up, in diving lingo, spelled trouble. It meant that, for whatever reason, the diver wished to ascend. But, by then, you’d known Kyungsoo long enough to understand that there was no real cause for concern.

The look in his eyes told you that he was simply struggling to adapt.

You swam towards him, with your legs and not your arms, in order to maintain good buoyancy control. Clasping your hands together in a mitten grasp, you signalled him to hold onto you. Kyungsoo created a circle with his thumb and forefinger to signal “okay” before putting his hand on your forearm, the soft ripples caused by his gentle movements gleaming in the artificial light from your gear.

You then raised your other arm and flattened your hand, palm down, to “pat” the water in front of you as you would the head of a dog. Wearing a comforting eye smile, you essentially asked Kyungsoo to take it easy and relax. You then levelled your hand with his eyes, palm facing up before drawing a deep breath, wordlessly asking Kyungsoo to breathe slow, deep and long.

Another nod. Another “okay”.

He then pointed his index finger to his ear, the gesture indicating that he couldn’t clear his ears and had trouble equalizing. So you locked your eyes with his and took his elbows in your hands to pull him up to ascend slightly before quickly pushing him down again while wondering whether he’d paid attention to the theoretical lessons at all.

He squeezed his eyes shut before giving you another nod which meant that the equalization was a success.

Kyungsoo’s thumb and forefinger met in another “okay” but this time with an eye smile which you reciprocated with an “okay” before snapping your fingers into a teasing finger heart.

All traces of agreeableness instantly vanished from his visible features.

***

The deeper you went, your fluo green spectrum widened, whelming you with the underwater world’s tranquil beauty which neutralized the shooting pain in your ears and the violent thumping of your heart. Corals in the shape of giant mushrooms floated around you and sea urchins greeted you with their bright purple-brown spikes glowing under the ocean’s natural light. At your feet, a shy goby fish with its large head and tapered body tunneled its way into the sand upon sensing the arrival of strangers.

While you were immersed in this exquisite scenery, a wide eyed Kyungsoo grabbed your attention by waving at you, his hand holding a pink fin.

‘That fin looks familiar,’ you thought before realizing it was your fin that had released itself from your right foot. You almost choked from laughing with the regulator on and the mask attached to your face as Kyungsoo helped you stick it back on.

Having been privy to breathtaking videos and countless stories of the mysteries and magic of the underwater world, a first-hand experience felt surreal. You were quick to adapt to the environment and didn’t try to fight it or control it and your first breath under water had been an experience like no other.

The Boreas Wreck was home to a number of incredible marine species such as Mediterranean sponges and blue gorgonians, scorpionfish, sea urchins, starfish, goatfish, mullets, bream, lobsters, groupers, and barracuda. While you couldn’t pindown all the enticing, drop dead gorgeous palettes of reds, blues, and yellows that crossed paths with you, shoaling, schooling...or even solitary, it didn’t take away from the sheer awe you were overcome with at every second of your time several azure and viridian metres below the surface of land.

The instructor then guided the three of you inside the boat’s wreck, which was safe to enter since all hazardous items had been removed before Boreas was scuttled. With an excited Chanyeol in the lead per usual, you visited some of its confined rooms, and went further in to explore the kitchen, the engine room, the bridge and even the captain’s cabin. The dilapidated metal and wood body of the civil boat, covered almost entirely in sea fauna, was nothing short of a beautiful nightmare.

Traversing, you reached one corner of the boat basked in a blinding white light, enveloping you in a gentle embrace. Emotions so carefully locked away came flooding through the dam of your forced stoic indifference. Giving in, you stretched your arms out, allowing yourself to freefall into a distant memory.

Haphazardly flapping your arms and legs, you struggled to keep your head up but no matter how hard you tried, the pool water made its way into your mouth, nose, and eyes, even.

‘Appa!’ you managed loudly as you felt yourself drowning again.

Your Appa was the one who always came to your rescue.

No matter where you were, no matter how bad things got. He was always there. So when he just stood there, a smile on his face, watching you grapple with a force that mercilessly dragged you down while you kicked and punched and floundered to stay afloat...a mysterious emotion rose within you.

You felt betrayed by the man who was supposed to have your back.

Seething, ‘Appa!’ you bawled, but to no avail.

Until...magically...you didn’t need his help anymore.

After days of relentless torture, you’d finally found yourself moving forward, cutting through the water with synchronized movements of your arms and legs.

But the exhilaration hadn’t lasted long.

A couple of minutes in and you realized that that force was winning again but this time, you didn’t drown.

This time a familiar pair of hands grabbed you before you went under and threw you up in the air as your misty eyes took in the biggest smile on your father’s face with an equally big one gracing your bright features.

Circling his arms around your tiny torso, he nestled you into himself.

‘My champion!’ he whispered into your swim cap covered ear.

***

Back on the boat, with your diving gear off and fresh towels wrapped around your shoulders, you sank to your knees, completely wracked with sobs.

You felt a million emotions, all at once, the reigning one being embarrassment at this sudden outburst. With his arms around you and his chin resting on the top of your head, Chanyeol whispered, ‘It’s okay, it’s alright,’ to ground you while gently rocking you back and forth until you’d let it all out. Turning around, you buried your face into the crook of his neck as if to hide away from the inquisitive eyes of Kyungsoo and the instructor. Chanyeol held you closer, his hand stroking the back of your neck in silent support.

Even after a sumptuous lunch of salmon canapes, baked scallops, rice with spiny spider crab, mixed seafood finger foods complete with a chocolate semi sphere, Chanyeol was uncharacteristically quiet and Kyungsoo, uncharacteristically amiable.

“Feels a little morbid to be eating all this seafood after a dive,” you jested with a serious expression, nibbling on a piece of dark chocolate. And it was only then that the boys went back to being their true selves. Amused, Chanyeol guffawed, “Good to have you back!” while Kyungsoo choked on his sparkling white wine.

Shortly after, Chanyeol excused himself to make a call to Aera.

Kyungsoo ordered two coffees for the both of you and you noticed how he kicked about a conversation starter in his head as opened his mouth only to clamp it shut several times, before finally mustering, “I just want to say -”

“No,” you interrupted him in a mortified haste, “no, please don’t say anything I don’t wanna talk about it except, I’m really sorry for making it so awkward for you guys back there.”

“Oh, no,” he gave you a dismissive wave of hand, “it was just Chanyeol, me, and...erm...the pretty instructor who we’ll never see again. Chanyeol makes a complete ass out of himself every waking hour and as for me, please don’t worry about me. Especially not after you found me blind drunk on a rooftop in the dead of night. We all have our moments. I’m sorry,” he suddenly stopped short, expression solemn, “you said you didn’t wanna talk about it.”

You chuckled, teasing, “Pretty instructor, huh?”

This was the longest conversation you’d had with Kyungsoo so far and truth be told, you were caught off guard by... his smile. His resting face was a natural frown, mostly due to his poor eyesight. And in your experience, if he had his glasses on, it was Chanyeol who was the primary reason for his scowl, with you being a close second.

It took you a moment to take in that dazzling, heart shaped smile of his before you could speak again but it was Kyungsoo who lugged the conversation forward.

“I just wanted to thank you for what you did for me back there. I think I felt a little overwhelmed by the,” he pondered his thoughts before concluding, “the vastness of the ocean. Sorry, I’m no poet.”

“Don’t mention it,” you smiled, “How did you feel by the end of it?”

“Umm,” Kyungsoo ruminated on your question, “I felt like I was in the moment...like, reaching a stage of subtle awareness from surface awareness.”

“And you say you’re not a poet,” you quipped, “So, like, meditation?”

“Maybe. It felt as if I was letting go of...of all the emotional baggage -” he trailed off rather plaintively.

Voice laced with hesitance, you sang, “So….maybe…you’ll sleep better tonight?”

Clearly taken aback by your question, Kyungsoo exclaimed, “What?!”

“I’m sorry but, it’s very obvious that you haven’t been sleeping too well.”

Thick eyebrows scrunched together, he let out a confused ‘Oh!’

“Did Chanyeol -” he continued, only to be interrupted by a booming, cheerful voice, “Think of the angel and the angel appears!”

Kyungsoo looked up at a beaming Chanyeol and deadpanned, “That’s not how the saying goes. Anyway, what took you so long?”

Eyes holding a glint of humour, Chanyeol placed a neatly wrapped iPhone box in front of Kyungsoo and took the dramatics up a notch with a stage performer-esque curtsey thus inviting amused stares from the nearby tables in the courtyard style restaurant. Kyungsoo unwrapped the packaging with the eagerness of a five year old on Christmas Eve and to his disappointment, instead of the high end handphone, he opened the case to a hot pink flip phone.

Kyungsoo let out a low growl, “The fuck is this?”

Standing at a safe distance from his fuming friend, Chanyeol quipped, “A phone,” while making no effort to suppress his laughter.

“Thank you, Mr. State The Obvious, but I’m an adult male, not a Japanese schoolgirl!”

Tickled by his own little prank, Chanyeol threw you under the bus by triumphantly howling, “It was Shifu’s idea!” before darting out of the premises.

Dumbfounded, you exclaimed, “WHAT?! NO!” as Kyungsoo fixed you with a death glare.

‘When were you going to tell me about this?’

Maybe this was one of your endless nightmares.

Maybe this wasn’t happening at all.

Your mother deflected your question by putting things away. Dirty dishes in the washer, clothes in the dryer, leftovers in the fridge, while you followed her around like a lost puppy, a crumpled, time stained letter held delicately in your hand.

The throbbing in your head now bordering on numbness, bile rising up your throat, your legs threatening to give away, you reiterated your question, vociferously this time, surprised at your own power of will. A quality that forever eluded you. The inability to voice your needs, your opinions, masked under a not so thinly veiled sense of self deprecating humour was...you, in a nutshell. This sudden surge of fighting spirit consuming you whole felt alien but at the same time, very natural and, at the same time, it was taking a toll on every nerve, every muscle, every bone.

Every second felt like your last.

‘Would she be able to handle it all over again?’ crestfallen, you mused, ‘The grief. The sympathy. The cumulation of my life -- all these decades condensed into a tiny vessel of ever fading memories. The sands of time trickling through her wrinkled fingers.’

‘Eomma, please -’ you cried out, only for your plea to fall upon deaf ears.

It wasn’t until the next morning that she spoke to you again.

Bloodshot eyes framed by the weight of living, she handed you a warm cup of tea and let out a deep sigh.

‘He never wanted you. It was your Appa who accepted me...he accepted us… It’s been three days since your Appa -,’ wracked with sobs, it took her a while to compose herself to be able to speak again, ‘don’t dishonour his memory.’

‘Why should I believe a word you say? Why should I believe that- that my own father never wanted me?’

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abyssalzones · 3 years ago

Note

Have you seen the amphibia finale?? Your thoughts on the show are so interesting! what did you make of it? :-)

Managed to catch it live! Glad you think my thoughts are interesting, I'm autistic as shit and love to talk about anything people throw at me. That being said, my thoughts on how Amphibia ended are... extensive, I guess. I'll keep this under the cut to spare my followers.

I've honestly had a very mixed experience with Amphibia as a whole? I originally was not interested in the show, then got very interested in it, and then the tail end of season 3 kind of... lost me. Maybe not entirely, but it definitely didn't capture my attention the same way the first two seasons did. A lot of people say that season 1 and a fair bit of season 2 is "filler," but honestly? It felt like it was all (or most of it anyway) important for establishing the cast, the tone, and the overall liveliness of the show. If the majority of the first 2 seasons was episodic adventures with an overarching narrative, then it did an excellent job at delivering on that status quo.

Then, of course, True Colors aimed to change the status quo in a really interesting way. Things were getting more intense, consequences were becoming more tangible- so you'd expect the writing to pick up in the same direction the end of season 2 leaves you on. In some cases, this works. In others, it doesn't.

It's, unfortunately, another example of a show stretching out of its established expectations and then failing to deliver that same new quality consistently. It's trying to be dark and high-stakes and fantastical but it's also trying to be... a TV-Y7 cartoon with episodic antics contained in 20 minute time slots. Namely I don't understand why the finale felt so stretched out when most of it was recruiting different branches of an army that ultimately contributed very little to the final fight.

On that same note... I'm kind of getting really tired of the same formula of "big finale" that a lot of cartoons seem to be following lately. Everything has to end in a big fight with marvel-level theatrics even when it's completely tonally off from the rest of the show. I liked the Darcy fight! I thought Sasha and Anne teaming up to act as co-leaders was a very cool culmination of their dynamic! ...But ultimately it felt like it was all getting away from what was actually important in this show in the first place. Big, dramatic, precure-esque magical girl fights completely take away from the soft fantasy charm that made Amphibia endearing in the first place. It felt like the Plantars suddenly came second to everything else, despite their family unit being so important previously. It felt like Marcy and Sasha existed to fulfill a prophecy rather than as... people? And I enjoyed their development for the most part- but namely, Marcy was almost entirely shelved until she was important for the prophecy.

The Marcy issue could be a totally separate post, actually, thinking about how disappointing the conclusion to her arc was.

Anyway, I'll just make a little list.

Things I enjoyed seeing: -Yunan and Olivia are canon yaaay gay people #Win -darcy's fight with sasha felt like a great conclusion to Sasha's arc specifically -the weird space house with that god taking domino's form was... unexpected... but cool? i mean, it mostly seemed cool as like... a setup for a completely unrelated video game, but it was still cool.

-sasha bi flag <3 we finally did it. sasha finally likes women.

Things I did not enjoy so much:

-The fact that Andrias... lived? and was largely meant to be seen as sympathetic because WAAAAA IVE HURT SO MANY PEOPLE :< SPECIFICALLY MY FRIENDS </3 like man I don't care about you losing your friends because of your own actions. what about all the people who suffered from you Choosing to be a genocidal colonizer. Dude. Marcy destroy this man.

-I think it's boring when characters suffer very intense injuries and there's no repercussions or lasting effects because making a character visibly or noticeably disabled is too confusing of a change for children or whatever but that might just be me being... beyond the age demographic for this cartoon

-the fact that they waited up until the very last episode to even remotely confirm yunan/olivia. was their romance entirely off-screen? when the hell did they realize they like each other? and i actually really Like yulivia so i don't know how they managed to fuck that up so bad

-same principle as before but bi flag on sasha's rearview mirror. you had to wait..? until now........?

-I don't understand how sasha and anne could have possibly drifted apart or why that's supposed to make sense Sorry if that's me not liking a "mature" writing decision i don't think it's realistic though. or even like... lines up with what they established. Weren't we supposed to come to the conclusion at the tail end of season 3 that they were deeply important to each other? yeah, normally people drift apart after middle school, but these are clearly not... normal circumstances. They went to traumaworld together. same thing with marcy like even if you move you have Phones and computers just make a groupchat damn

-I don't understand the moon thing. I know they've been leading up to it since season 1 supposedly but it's just so funny. the final boss is the moon.

-powerpuff calamity trio looked bad. it was cute in like a pretty precure way i guess but my god it was so power of friendship in a show that was supposed to be like... a little less generic.... than that.... i thought....

-the biggest complaint im seeing is the complete saying goodbye to Amphibia thing which.... yeah i'm going to have to agree. I know the show has kind of been leading up to the girls going home and i think THAT is good, they've always been meant to go home, but i don't necessarily think growing up = abandoning all the things that were fantastic or "magical" about your childhood? this is supposed to be the Realistic ending i guess but it's just depressing. very "growing up sucks and you will grow apart from your friends Get used to it." maybe that wasn't the intention but i don't understand how they could just separate everybody like that after All the shit they went through. crazy to me.

anyway that is enough out of me i hope you didn't expect a super glowing review but i think... amphibia may have just not been for me in the way i thought it was. I really enjoyed the writing of this show for the most part so i can appreciate that but it's going to take a while for me to sit with this finale before I can come back to it probably. not the WORST finale i've ever seen but not great either.

... on another note, very excited for the new owl house next week.

#sorry if this is in a weird or incomprehensible format im very tired and was going to go to bed but #had to get all my thoughts out while theyre Fresh #thank you for the ask :] i hope im not disappointing you with what i thought lol #amphibia spoilers #lab notes #lab discussion

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wincore · 4 years ago

Text

summertime | wong kunhang

pairing: hendery x reader, side xiaocas

words: 4.5k

genre: childhood friends to lovers!au, first love, hs reunion, practically idiots to lovers, fluff, angst

warnings: none

a/n: warmup-ish fic. i don’t know why it’s so long either. loosely inspired by this. also hendery sweetest boy so i had to write something cute for him !!

When Wong Kunhang had hit you in the face with a volleyball coated in sand, you knew it was one way or the other with him. You were either going to fall in love with him or hate him for the rest of your life, and nothing in between.

It’s a little more complicated than that, you realize at twenty-one.

The neat asphalt is now a cool grey, not as pretty and dark as it used to be when you were in eighth grade but still clean and maintained. The stone walls on either side are certainly better off, marking the houses of the beachside town your school trip led to every goddamn year. Not that you were complaining, shining blue seawater has always been a favourite sight of yours. Kunhang was just the smiling bonus you held on to.

The road slants uphill till you can see the sunlight shimmering against the vast blue of the ocean across the horizon, dotted with the tops of palm trees and pastel buildings. It’s mostly at this point you realize that Kunhang’s been talking the entire way, and that you should nod along to add to the pretence, that you’re listening to him and not the loud drumming of your heart against your chest.

But Kunhang’s not here today. You don’t even know if he’s coming.

“Hey, (name), are you listening?” Yukhei asks, steadying the surfboard in his arms when you stop. “Are you thinking about Kunhang?”

The tone of his voice is teasing, but it’s as if you’re still thirteen, trying to come to terms with the first crush you’d ever had. Your cheeks grow hot and you scoff at him, snatching your tote bag from his arms and striding faster down the road. Kunhang can come, not come—you don’t care. For all you know, he’s enjoying his new life out there, as curious and fun-seeking as he is—was. He might even have found himself a lover, you realize as the bitter taste grows on your tongue.

Kunhang has always been special. Summer after summer, he’s only grown better at that.

Your parallel lines started growing distant somewhere in the first year of college. The daily facetime calls to describe the baffling wonders of adulthood slowly turned into weekly phone calls about the strain of assignments and projects and eventually, into faded texts you still look over on your phone. He’s just a friend, so you shouldn’t be expecting any more, right? It’s only ordinary that friends will grow apart. The city downpour that was slowly erasing his voice made you long for summer even more.

When you were twelve, Wong Kunhang had hit you in the face with a volleyball at the beach you always visited as part of the school trip. Somehow, with his weird sense and cutting enthusiasm, he’d offered the corner of his shirt to rub the sand off your face instead of a towel he’d find lying just about anywhere at the beach. (“The towels were definitely covered in sand! There’s no way beach towels aren’t sandy.”) And somehow, with your poor foresight, you’d felt an audible thump in your ribcage, the kind that only comes once. It was fitting, almost.

When you were thirteen, the thump grew into an entire orchestra. They settled in before you knew, and you realized you could neither accept them nor reject them. You suddenly couldn’t comprehend sitting beside him in class without nervously bouncing your legs, or laughing a little less enthusiastically at his jokes. You felt the turbulence of your pulse every time your hands touched as he passed you an eraser or a pen, or when his face split into a grin at you struggling to unscrew the bottle cap—it’s almost as if it were the end of the world whenever he breathed near you. You were painfully honest, so easy to see through and even Yukhei caught on to the fact that you had a thing for the weird yet lovable kid and his ridiculous smile. Kunhang, however, was probably in need of prescription glasses.

When you were sixteen, Kunhang learned how to play the drums and if anything, it made the heat bloom in your cheeks even faster. When you saw him play at the summer festival before the school trip, you wanted to stay there forever, just watch him do what he loves. Focused in the way he breathed and looking incredibly handsome for a stupid crush, you’d wanted to tell him then and there.

You’d made up your mind, or at least part of it, that this summer trip wouldn’t go to waste. Even the short-lived love of a young boy, you wanted to see it reflected in his eyes. That summer, just like every school trip, Kunhang had passed a volleyball to you in the outline of an inside joke that doesn’t get old; and you’d swallowed harshly, choking suddenly only for him to rub his hand over your back in the same gentle manner he did most everything.

When you think about it, you can’t seem to get over how much of an idiot you were back then. Kunhang was almost an even bigger one.

“I wish I’d get better at the drums quickly,” he’d said beside the campfire, tapping his foot impatiently.

It was only the two of you immersed in the night and if that weren’t reason enough for your incoherent thoughts, his knee was touching yours in a way oblivious to him—and the look of complete serenity over his face made you rethink your confession.

“You’re already good enough,” you huffed in disbelief.

“I can play two, er, three songs!” His voice was enthusiastic in the beginning but it hummed out to a mellow ending. He’d added in a determined whisper, “I need to practise so I don’t embarrass myself.”

Before you knew it, you’d let out a short laugh. Wong Kunhang, afraid of embarrassment? It was almost unheard of. You’d never met anyone so open before, so happy to share even the rougher, less tangible parts of himself.

Kunhang only gazed at you wordlessly, and when you met his eyes, the butterflies were let out of the cage in your stomach again. You wanted to lean in a little, kiss him right then and there, the image itself slowly curling around your head in haunting wisps as if something taboo. It didn’t make sense to you, to feel so immensely submerged in adolescent feelings—yet be comforted by his presence oh so easily. You know you weren’t the only one harbouring clandestine feelings. You’d seen them confess, you’d seen the few perfumed letters in his locker asking to meet after class.

Kunhang had turned down all of them. It didn't take solving quantum physics to realize he’d probably do the same to you. And you’d both end up losing a friend.

You’d swallowed whatever garbled confession that might have come out of your mouth that night. It’s better off this way, you told yourself, and you believed it for quite a while.

You wanted to hate him when you turned eighteen. You were going away to start a new life all on your own, and yet there he was, pretending that everything was going to be the same. Did he have to treat you so special? It wasn’t real, after all, the full wave of attention he gifted you, the adoring laughter and the occasional awkward head pats.

(And yet, every time you close your eyes, you wish it was.)

You wonder if Kunhang knows summer the way you do—sand against bare feet, having ice cream under a beach umbrella and most importantly, the scent of young love coating you in a thick layer of nervousness. Knowing him, he probably didn’t even notice the way you struggled to keep your wide grin secret every time he offered you the coconut flavoured ice cream. You wonder if he’s forgotten summer by now.

Yukhei catches up to you just before the narrow stone steps that end in the beach sand. You stop for a second, careful of the rock you always trip over (and the memory of Kunhang there to steady you with a laugh, unless he was the one who tripped face first into the sand) as you breathe out heavily. This is your high school reunion. You don’t have to think of your awkward teenage love right now. You can enjoy the coconut flavoured ice cream all by yourself.

You step onto the sand, taking a sharp breath at the full strength of heat that hits you. The towels and umbrellas are spread across the area, candy blue stripes everywhere your eyes visit, till your name is called by a frantic Dejun trying to get your attention. Summer feels hotter than any year you’ve visited and even sunscreen can’t protect you from the inevitably dazzling view you face.

After all this time, you thought he’d go away but the waves come crashing after all.

Kunhang has grown into a messy sort of handsome. His hair is longer since the last time you saw him, unkempt in the way it falls over his forehead yet still strangely neat. Even under the shade of the giant umbrella, there’s an unmistakable calm over his features—the look he often had on his face and no one would be able to tell what he was thinking, his own respite in broad daylight. The contrast between him and the blue around is crisp, like a sunlit field of pink tulips floating atop blue ocean water. It’s hardly been three years and he looks older, a bit more mature.

Kunhang beams when he notices you, the effect of it almost crushing as you try not to acknowledge the tidal wave of pent-up emotions.

“(name)!” he grins wide, jogging up to you. “I didn’t know you were coming. You didn’t reply to any of my texts!”

They vanished. Your words vanished again. Fidgeting with your fingers, you abruptly clear your throat before you can respond.

“Yeah. I, uh, I changed my number.” You bite your tongue softly at the lie.

He frowns. “Oh. Well, give me your new one.”

“I- I- I forgot my phone. At the- the hotel.”

You feel yourself cringing at your voice. It’s so...so embarrassing, every rise and fall. Kunhang blinks a few times before shrugging.

“Ah. I’ll get it later then.”

You almost immediately excuse yourself and beeline to Dejun sitting by the cooler, trying hard to hold a coconut larger than his hands as he raises a suspicious eyebrow at you. Of course it’s natural you’d go straight to the guy you see everyday at university instead of visiting the boy of your unrequited affections. It’s completely normal. What’s the point of a reunion anyway?

What you don’t expect is to be sandwiched between Dejun and Kunhang, the latter enthusiastically summing up each and every point of his life at university, the lack of control over facial expressions still prominent and you try not to let your heartstrings pull too hard. Dejun hums in intervals beside you, sipping at the coconut water he so struggled to get as Kunhang skilfully ignores the growing tension.

God, he really is an idiot. You feel like telling him you’ve been in love with him for eight years just so he’d shut up.

But after all this time, Kunhang has managed to remain himself. You smile. The sand in your hourglasses might not be flowing so differently after all. He’s still talking about most everything he finds fascinating through the smallest of details and you’re still willing to listen to the sound of his voice for hours. The scent of the ocean breeze that made you think of him, so you kept it safe—it’s overwhelming now.

Your vision is suddenly blocked by a pink paper cup, the spotless white ice cream in it already starting to melt. You turn your head to Kunhang trying hard not to make a face at you, biting onto the edge of an empty paper cup.

“You didn’t listen to anything I said, did you?” he asks with a click of tongue, after taking his cup in his hand.

You can’t help your sheepish laugh. “I lost you when you started talking about the campus cats.”

Kunhang scratches the back of his head, smiling. “I couldn’t get a volleyball today. They increased the rent rates by ten!”

“What, you were planning to rent a volleyball just to hit me in the face with it?”

Kunhangs face breaks into a grin, positively glowing from his eyes to the line of his nose to his lips. Maybe you don’t hate this feeling so much.

Dejun suddenly clears his throat beside you, springing up. “I’m- I’m going to go help Yukhei,” he declares, discarding his coconut somewhere over the sand.

“Help with what?” you ask, furrowing your brows.

Dejun coughs uncomfortably before shrugging and speeding off to Yukhei trying very hard to plant the wet surfboard in the sand. Somewhere in your mind, you already know the reason why he ran off.

You turn to Kunhang with a worried look, but there’s no sign of realization over his face. You almost sigh but catch yourself in the moment. Is it pitiful? He probably can’t even imagine you that way, maybe that’s why he hasn’t caught on.

Is it bad that you hate it? That you’re not satisfied with the friendly touches, the innocent smiles. You don’t want to keep it so pure after all—you want to run your hands through his hair, you want to twine your fingers through his, you want to feel the touch of a kiss with him.

Your gulp nervously once Kunhang’s features come into focus, still talking about something vague and nodding along to it at an uncertain rhythm. The sound of the waves come gently crashing, just as they do to the shore and the buzz of this place reminds you of all the time you spent here. What has been, what could have been.

“Kunhang,” you interrupt and he whips his head to you, eyes curious. You take a deep breath.

What value is there to words that you’re desperately trying to throw away?

“I- I’m going to go to the water,” you say, trying to cover up your nervousness. If it wasn’t any other summer trip, it’s not going to be today. It’s not going to be, at all.

If you can’t put it into words, will you be alone? You’re only chewing over your memories hoping they fade.

Kunhang springs up just as you stand, his sudden movement surprising you.

“I…” He begins but shakes his head with a subdued smile. His voice comes out softer than you expect. “Yukhei’s that way, if you’re looking for him.”

You blink back your confusion. “Ah, um, thanks!”

The more you try to lie to him, the less you understand yourself. But if you stay any longer, you might just spill the archived secrets, the words you should have burned in the campfire that night. You can fall out of love. It’s easy, it’s easy, you tell yourself—then why couldn’t you have done it earlier? Can you even do it now?

“What are you doing here?!” Yukhei asks, furrowing his brows as he gets up from the sand. “Where’s Kunhang?”

“I- I don’t know! Why would I know everything about him?” you grumble, hugging yourself.

“You are so stupid,” he states in response.

“That’s- That’s not something you should be telling me!”

Yukhei grabs your shoulder, shaking you hurriedly. “You should go back to him! The beach is one of the top ten romantic places, come on.”

“What makes you think I still like him?!” you hiss, trying to get his hands off your shoulders.

Yukhei stops abruptly, tilting his head to greet Dejun, who makes you jump out of your skin. You move apart from Yukhei, facing him with a sigh.

Dejun tries hard not to pull a face, notifying that your other classmates are here, and it’s a lot more likely some of them are still heart-eyed for Yukhei. The two of them seem to share an inside joke as they laugh and you raise an eyebrow, not even bothering to decode the situation.

The brunch idea was probably Dejun’s, considering how smoothly things run. The whole renting out half a bar idea was probably Yukhei’s, considering how much of a wild mess it is. The place is perfectly snug, warm and just enough for a former high school batch, right by the beach where the sand meets asphalt. The laughter and conversations overpower the low jazz undertones of the music playing through the speakers and you find yourself smiling when someone or the other reminds you of all the high school ventures you’d had under the teachers’ disapproving eyes.

“Remember when Yukhei stole the rabbit from our school garden?”

“That wasn’t even worse than when he accidentally fired the water hose at Mr. Liang!”

“Oh my god, you remember putting on makeup in between classes without getting caught?”

“Or trying to steal lunch from me, you big bully?”

Really, seeing old faces after so long and then the same faces hammered only a few hours later might just be another one of the ‘fun’ things you’ve been missing out on.

There’s Shuhui, Lunmei and Linlin—girls you didn’t get to talk much with during school, but you remember Shuhui’s face from middle school. There’s Yukhei’s friends, Shihao and Taishun, who you think you exchanged a whopping total of sixteen words with throughout high school. Yet now, with everyone gathered here, it feels like some sort of a haven of reminiscence, like you’d known each other all your life (which, to an extent, you did). It’s comfortable and warm, the blanket of old connections.

You take another sip of the punch. It’s not enough to get you drunk but it's enough to shift the gears in your ribs to begin the steam engine you can’t find the brakes on. Your face is hot, Kunhang finally not the reason behind it, and you sigh as you glance around the room slowly.

It would’ve been quieter if Yukhei somehow hadn’t started this chain of confessions. Dejun is still struggling to keep him seated, a warm blush over his face when he has to wrap his arm around Yukhei yet again while the others continue chanting “confess! confess!” to the next unlucky victim guilty of harbouring an unspoken teenage crush.

You shake your head at the whole scene, sighing once again as you lazily swirl the remnants of your drink in the glass. The night will be over soon, and you’ll go back to your own paths. For now, you can pretend it’s all just another summer adventure.

Yukhei clears his throat, everyone’s eyes turning to him instantly. “I’m sure there’s one more confession left!”

There’s a bunch of cheers and you feel your heartbeat quicken when Yukhei shoots you a knowing smile. Your eyes widen, your throat suddenly feeling dry and you turn your head to meet Kunhang’s eyes. He looks at you with no hint or clue about the reality and you look away before it fries your nerves out.

“You’re going to thank me after this, Kunhang,” Yukhei calls, a teasing lilt to his voice and the boy in question simply shakes his head, grinning in polite confusion.

You look around in panic, from Yukhei to Kunhang and wonder if you should open your mouth. You take a breath before a roar of cheers interrupts you.

Shuhui stands up, rosy-cheeked and wobbling at the knees. You catch Yukhei blinking with furrowed eyebrows but nodding anyway, as if the decisive president in a heated debate.

“Wong Kunhang!” she calls before coyly confessing. “I like you! I’ve liked you since eighth grade!”

Is it the alcohol? Or the cruel realization that your mother was right when she said summer makes people fall in love? There’s another round of cheers and applause as you get up discreetly, sneaking out the door a few steps behind you. You don’t think you can stomach the sight of someone else’s arms around Kunhang, his loving attention drawn to them.

The night air is cool, the bushes lining the sidewalk buzzing with cicadas as you step over onto the soft, warm sand. The campfire has been reduced to blazing embers, no one there to kindle it as the night progressed. You hug yourself as you walk, the calm over you strange, uncharacteristic.

Even if it’s not you and him after all, you should have said something. You’re only a coward, slow and naive in a world too fast-paced, unable to face a reality that’s your own. You couldn’t even stay in that room a second longer. If only your chest didn’t waver so easily, your heartbeat didn't grow erratic.

You walk closer to the water, waves lapping quietly against the sand, a hush over them as if they do not know what to say to you. What do you say to someone on the verge of heartbreak? Consoling your friends at university taught you next to nothing, your own seeming beyond your help.

“(name)!”

You feel your breath hitch, hesitant in turning around. There’s a moment’s pause and when you don’t turn, Kunhang tugs at your wrist, pulling you to him.

It’s getting so that your heart can’t even flutter anymore.

Gentle and kind, and so willing to give, Kunhang could never really leave you alone, could he? He looks at you with wide eyes, almost like a puppy lost on the streets. His pale pink overshirt is hanging loosely over his shoulders, unbuttoned all the way over his white T-shirt, his hair tousled by the wind and words yet resting on his lips. You forget to breathe for a few seconds and when you inhale sharply, the onslaught of your feelings comes toppling over you.

“I hate this,” you choke on the words. “You should be in there.”

“They’re still celebrating. And drunk.” He shifts nervously.

“I hate you,” you say, not finding meaning in the words. “I hate you so much because of how stupid I was- how weak I was.”

Kunhang’s eyes shimmer with something unfamiliar, lips quivering before he steadies himself, drawing nearer.

“That’s not fair,” he whispers, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

You purse your lips. It isn't fair—who are you to blame him? He doesn’t deserve the vomit of emotions from your popped balloon of a heart. You bite your tongue before you can spit out the poison-infused words.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, voice hoarse and still angry, “I wish I told you earlier. How much I liked you. How much I wanted to be with you.”

Kunhang stays quiet, hand not ready to leave your wrist yet, the part where his thumb rests searing hot.

“I thought I could pretend I never liked you at all,” you say, biting your lip. “I thought that if I faked it then it would go away but Wong Kunhang, I- I’ve liked you for so long that I don’t know what it’s like if I don’t.”

Why are you crying? It’s like the emotions you’ve hoarded all these years have somehow found an opening to burst through, in a stream of colours that paint you in embarrassment. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and nose, as you vigorously rub at your eyes so the tears don’t escape in so obvious a manner.

“I- I tried going on dates, I tried- I tried all those stupid blind dating apps, I tried to focus on my major and making new friends and- and still…”

Doesn’t the rain fall in times like these? Yet there’s only the hot blanket of summer, with its swaying sea wind and calling cicadas resting in the vibrant bushes.

“I didn’t want to force all of this on you. I’m so—”

It’s only fitting that the stupidest sequence of words would leave his lips.

“I thought you liked Yukhei,” he says quietly.

You pause, uncertain of what to do and breathe out in annoyance. “Kunhang, for the love of god, where did you even come up with that?”

His cheeks colour ever so slightly and he clears his throat. “I don’t kno- I just- I kept giving myself excuses too. I’m sorry.”

The wind makes his hair sway lightly by his eyes, the stars glowing cool blue in them. Whatever the ebb and flow of your feelings were, they’re crashing against the sand, violent and sorrowful at first till the moon tames them into something warmer.

And then it happens again. Kunhang smiles, shoulders relaxing. There’s a moment’s pause.

“I- I’m not good with this.”

When Kunhang presses his hand against your jaw and leans in a little, eyes waiting for confirmation, the drumming in your veins is so loud you can barely comprehend the movement of his actions. You shut your eyes almost instantly but Kunhang accidentally bumps your noses a little too hard. The two of your wince, your hand flying to your nose as a muffled cry of pain escapes your lips and he looks at you worriedly, his fingertips pressing against your cheek softly.

You choke back a laugh but it bubbles up anyway, his own following after an embarrassed pause.

“I think- I think I was a little nervous,” he admits, looking down and then back up to you.

“We can...we can try that again,” you hum, biting back a smile.

Kunhang’s hair is in fact softer than you’d expected, and when you run your fingers through them, he smiles into the kiss, his hand at the small of your back pulling you closer. Nothing’s like you daydreamed of and yet everything is in place, the shared warmth growing with each passing second.

It’s blissful for a few moments before you’re interrupted by a drunk Yukhei to “get it” and you jump apart from each other, flushed hot in the cheeks. Dejun apologizes for his boyfriend, waving at you guys to continue whatever the hell you were doing before tugging Yukhei along with him.

You clear your throat awkwardly before plopping down on the sand, face buried in your hands. Kunhang follows slowly, legs outstretched towards the ocean. You peek to see him smiling at the sky, leaning back on his hands and the look you love seeing on him.

“Kunhang?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t- I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Even if you didn’t like me back then.”

Kunhang turns his head to you, eyes earnest as they trail across your face.

“You don’t have to be brave.”

He reaches out to fix the hair from your eyes, a gentle touch to them as ever, but this time there’s a stronger meaning to it, almost as if he’d kiss you again right then. The two of you smile, twining your fingers somewhere along the night as he tells you to rest your head on his shoulder. The waves sing softly to accompany Kunhang’s chatter, the feeling almost unreal when you feel his pulse against your thumb.

What has been, what could’ve been—they’re barely a breeze to what really is.

#wayv #hendery #wayv scenarios #hendery scenarios #nct scenarios #hendery fluff #hendery imagines #wayv imagines #nct imagines #wayv fluff #nct fluff #wong kunhang imagines #childhood friends to lovers!au #hendery x reader #yes im back with another cheesy as shit fic what are you going to do #moonwrites

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novantinuum · 5 years ago

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On the corrupted!Steven theory...

So, originally when I mused on this yesterday I was just playing around with random possibilities.

After combing the series for info about corruption, though, I’m mildly spooked at the increased potential for this to... perhaps be a thing? I’m not saying that this is what I for sure believe will happen- to be honest, I’m not even sure Crewniverse would go this direction at all- but just for funsies, let’s see what kind of “evidence” or “foreshadowing” exists that might support this potential story path in the context of canon.

(EDIT: 10/7/19

I honestly no longer think this creature is a worm at all whatsoever, it’s either more akin to a horned caterpillar or potentially has limbs. Either way we can see so little right now that it’s hard to tell. I’m not editing the rest of this post because I want it to exist in its original form- but do keep this in mind reading the rest! XP)

1) The design of this worm creature.

Let’s start simple. Let’s start tangible.

For future reference and simplicity, I will be henceforth be referring to this creature as... “Wormy Boi.”

So, let’s see what we’ve got here. I’m definitely not the first person to point out this fella’s pink nature, and the jarringly human-like nose they’ve got. (Compared to other corruptions, which have had distinctly non-humanoid features.) In the photo above, we also have Wormy Boi sporting glowing pink eyes, which then send out a flare of pink light/energy. So, seemingly a powerful entity.

If you watch the short segment before they sit upright, you’ll see that Wormy Boi is super, super big. They’re in the background, but BOY do they loom. The shadows cast upon them especially push that sense of size. They’ve also got a whole bunch of spikes on their back and framing their face.

So, then. What evidence could be made for this being a corrupted!Steven, as opposed to some other run-of-the-mill monster?

Steven Universe Future is a limited series, described as ‘tying up loose ends.” To me, as a viewer, it would make far more sense for the antagonists/conflicts to deal with big concepts that have already been established since there’s such a limited amount of time we have left with this world. Introducing a completely alien species in the last act of the show would feel offbeat from both a writing and a viewing perspective. Corruption- on the other hand- is something we don’t have full answers to yet.

We don’t see any gem, yes- but Steven’s gem is- of course- on his belly. If this theory were to be true, that would translate to the gem being on Wormy Boi’s underside, far out of our sight in this shot, due to how massive they are. As an addition to this, not showing the gem gives an air of mystery to this creature’s true nature- which makes it seem like there’s something surprising to discover here.

A corrupted diamond would surely be MASSIVE. Also, very powerful. The beam of pink light hints at Wormy Boi being quite a powerhouse.

The spikes on Wormy Boi’s back and around their face highly resemble rose thorns. We all know how much the Crewniverse loves their rose symbolism, and design wise, this aspect would make a lot of visual sense for a corrupted Steven. Running off of that:

The face/nose shape and the five horns on this creature’s head give off a very Steven-like silhouette.

The nose, of course. The face has a very Steven-like shape to it, overall- although noticeably more angular and sharp. The mouth is reminiscent of the Watermelon Stevens’ mouths. And as for the horns, there’s five of them positioned equidistant around their face, just as Steven’s hair is always formed from five lil’ bumps at the same positions.

Okay, moving on.

(Read more under the cut!)

2) We do not yet understand the true nature of corruption.

“I guess it’ll take more than a kiss to heal damage from the Diamonds…” -Pearl, Monster Reunion

Corruption is still- bafflingly- a huge mystery. The Gems we’ve watched the CGs bubble since season one have been healed, yes, but there are still many gaps in our understanding of it. With Steven Universe Future’s promise to address some lingering story threads, it would make sense if corruption was on the plate for further discussion. So, what DO we know?

We know it’s something the Diamonds can do. Interestingly, it doesn’t seem to require all four diamonds. Three of them together were able to cause all the damage to Earth. There’s also no statement made that more than one Diamond is required to cause effects like that.

In Legs From Here to Homeworld, Blue and Yellow Diamond weren’t actually aware the corruption was something they were capable of producing. They seemed to assume they obliterated the Gems on Earth. Corruption is then, even a mystery to them. That’s... odd, isn’t it?

Pearl states that it’s “something nearly impossible to describe.” Garnet goes further to say... “It’s sorta like... if MC Bear-Bear didn’t tear the fabric of his arm, but the fabric of his mind.”

"A sound… A song?” There’s a lot of association between corruption and music.

It causes Gems to lose touch with their usual forms, instead warping into a more outwardly "monstrous” version of themselves that appear to be “just a bundle of fight-or-flight reflexes and survival instincts.” As seen by Centipeetle in Monster Buddy and Monster Reunion, it appears as if corrupted Gems try to regenerate with their original forms if unbubbled, but are simply not in a state where they can maintain that.

As seen with Jasper in Earthlings, extreme emotional distress very much seems to speed up corruption’s effects. This is less of a stated fact and more of my read on that episode, but I believe it to be an important tidbit, especially since Garnet states that corruption’s damage is mental rather than physical, at least at its core. This can also be seen in Monster Reunion with how Centipeetle’s partial healing backfires when she remembers the trauma of being corrupted and reacts strongly.

Now, when it comes to healing corruption, Steven tries to heal Centipeetle himself, and does make some nice progress... helping her regain a hold on herself as he treats her with love and compassion and understanding... but it’s ultimately not a healing that can occur in isolation, helping her on his own. She needs more support before she can heal from this corruption to a state where she can truly be herself again.

And that eventually comes in the form of the other Diamonds. So, all four diamonds can help relieve the corruption if they help these Gems all together.

3) How could this theory potentially fit into the story anyways, you nutter?

Well, here’s the part of this post where I make some broad conjectures. I honestly am shooting fish into a barrel here because again- we know barely anything about how corruption actually happened initially, and my thoughts are very jumbled. Please forgive me.

"I don’t really know how the corruption works. It’s like they’re sick. They don’t remember who they used to be.” -Steven, Gem Hunt

So, corruption seems to be a mental ailment of Gemkind, turned manifest. It also seems to have a deep connection to a Gem’s emotions, with Centipeetle growing smaller and slightly calmer upon feeling more secure in Steven’s presence, and corruption speeding up as Jasper grew more and more emotionally overwrought and self-deriding about herself.

When it comes to the Diamonds and how they perhaps caused it originally- without fully realizing- we know that at least Blue and White have abilities focused on causing others to act in certain ways. Blue has sway over one’s emotions, and White has a knack for forcing her thoughts and self upon others. (I’m not sure how Yellow’s ability would play in here.) Mayhaps, mixed with their grief and guilt and anger, their power simply pressed all of that hurt emotion onto all the Gems on Earth in one whole fail swoop...? Tearing their minds in the process of it all?

The question I still have, though- is whether a single diamond could produce effects like this. And whether a diamond could turn that ability on themself.

Could Steven accidentally corrupt himself? Why might that happen?

Well, let’s look at our boy here.

He’s got a wide circle of support at this time in canon, but notably, he’s notorious for bottling up his emotion and not letting others in to help him- instead dropping everything to help them with their problems. Just to name a few examples (a few):

The Test. He feels betrayed and hurt at the Gems for a moment about the way they’re babying him with the rigged test, but instead of admitting the hurt he feels about the scenario, bottles that up to help them feel more like good guardians.

Joy Ride. He opens up to the Cool Kids about deep, incredibly troubling stuff that’s long been on his mind, but he’s never once talked about it with his family.

Mindful Education. The perils of bottling one’s emotions is literally the whole plot of the episode. The kid has a full out sobbing breakdown while he’s plunging to his death. Connie gets through to him a little here, but later episodes show that the resolution we see here is merely the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Steven’s internal issues.

Storm in the Room. Externally, Steven tries so hard to put on a guise of content and positivity, but once alone in Rose’s room feels safe enough to let the full brunt of his emotional trauma come out in an almost explosive manner. Geeze, get this kid some hugs.

Gemcation. Steven actually fails bitterly on putting on his customary smile in this episode, simply because the weight of his problems have become such an impossible burden to him. When the other Gems are trying to help him open up, he isn’t immediately responsive to their efforts.

What’s Your Problem? Amethyst spends the whole episode trying to cheer Steven up and find out how he’s doing, and instead Steven downplays his own feelings on the matter and ends up helping her sort out her own emotional issues.

So to sum: Many an Emotional Issue, a chronic tendency to avoid outwardly addressing said issues in favor of helping everyone else instead... and to avoid accepting other people’s help.

Even if he’s surrounded by all these people who love him, the fact of the matter is that Steven still feels as if he has to face his own inner demons alone.

Now, let’s look at the lil’ teasing synopsis that was given for Steven Universe Future:

“After saving the universe, Steven is still at it, tying up every loose end. But as he runs out of other people’s problems to solve, he’ll finally have to face his own.”

Blatantly sounds like we’re gonna finally get some addressing of Steven’s emotional state, now doesn’t it?

4) A concept on what could, theoretically happen

“Maybe… it IS a guy in a monster costume. I don’t mean literally, silly! What I mean is... there might be a conscious Gem still inside there, somewhere. What if the monster is turning back and forth into its original form? If it is, it might not be as corrupted as we think! There might still be a chance to save it!” -Steven, Gem Hunt

Suppose Steven- by some as-of-yet unknown means- ends up accidentally corrupting himself. His sorry emotional state only further amplifies the effects of this corruption, and makes it really hard to retain control. Wormy Boi as a form could be like... all his inner demons made manifest, a metaphoric mirror into his current mental state. But- as he is half-human- he’s not entirely unaware of what’s happening. Perhaps... as the quote above could be sneaky foreshadowing for... how he’s turning back and forth between this corrupted form and his normal form.

He likely wouldn’t want everyone to see him like this, doesn’t want everyone to visibly know the sheer depth of how much he’s hurting. But just like the corrupted Gems were only able to be helped in community, with the support of the CGs and the Diamonds in preparing the fountain, Steven can’t fix this on his own.

He can no longer face the dark alone.

At some point, everyone has to take a brave step. Reach out. Accept help.

Steven’s helped so many people, and surely he deserves that same love and care in return, too.

And perhaps, when he’s eventually healed from this- and has gotten the opportunity to be open with his family and friends about the hurt he’s facing- he’ll be left with “corruption scars” as well. I think it’s an important thing to address, that no one goes through experiences like these without lingering effects. Stuff stays with you. Healing is not always linear. But life is a continuous journey, and with the support of people who love you surrounding, you too can make a change... can continue to live to the fullest at every moment possible.

I think the above would be a lovely moral for Steven Universe to tackle in its last run of episodes, no matter how they approach it- daft corruption theory or not.

Now, in the end- a reiteration. This is just a wild theory. I’m not trying to be any authoritative voice saying that this is for sure what will happen, because in reality I have no idea what Crewniverse is cooking. However, I do think it’s fun speculation, and I am kinda spooked at how well things fit.

Whatever happens, I’m sure it will make me weep like a baby, though. Hoh boy. Grant me sanity in these coming months as we wait for answers.

#su #steven universe #su future #steven universe future #su theory #corrupted steven theory #my post stuff #long post #the mighty 500 #1K #2K #3K #4K #5K

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barnesandco · 4 years ago

Text

Eat the Rich: Chapter 2

Eat the Rich Masterlist

The Avengers are tasked with tracking down an elusive thief, and retrieving the grand amounts of money she has stolen. Even after capture, she turns out to be impossible to break, save for a mystifying interest in Bucky.

Written for @mermaidxatxheart ‘s #jamiesmadwritingbash, under the Robin Hood AU prompt.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: mentions of Bucky’s Hydra days, and a short mention of dissociation. Disaster Avengers having breakfast.

A/N: I really really really love that people are saying they like the reader bc that’s the character people envision themselves as when they insert themselves into this kind of fanfic. I hope you enjoy what more we get to see of the reader here. So enjoy, and please continue to reblog and comment -- it makes this so much fun!

I’m not doing taglists, but you can follow and turn on notifications for @ayeshaupdates to be notified when I post.

Divider by the fantastically talented @whimsicalrogers!

The dispute that had ensued after Bucky had voiced his wish to Steve had turned to resigned acceptance by the time the first slivers of dawn had started to creep across pristine floors, and Bucky found himself victorious. It's a grim glory that accompanies him down the hall and into the cell you had been moved into for the night. There's no mode of observation for this room, save for the presently closed viewing panel in the door. It's really early, and even though he doubts that you're asleep, given the stressful circumstances, his hand pauses where it's about to knock on the door.

With Steve having left for his run with Sam, and the others asleep or inactive in some way, shape or form, he's alone in the silver hallways of this portion of the Compound. Hand still in the air, tight fist, white knuckles and lip bitten red, and then he composes himself. Stepping away, he sits down on the floor, back against the wall and knees pulled up.

While he waits, he listens, even if all he can hear is his own heartbeat and the faint, collective chorus of the birds chirping. The sturdy walls and doors between your bed and his floor prevent any speculation on your activities, since the only monitoring permitted is that of vital signs so an alert can be raised if there is danger. He could open the panel, but that might wake you and he doesn't want that. Whether this disruption, and how it is sure to initiate the crucial dialogue he’s here for, is undesired for his sake or yours is unclear.

His head meets the metal behind him, and the cold stings at his scalp, but Bucky stays that way. Likes the cold bite of it, on occasions such as these, when he needs the ice-crystal clarity of mind, and he knows it'll warm up soon, under his touch. Likes knowing that Hydra doesn't control him all the time, that he can feel the prickle of freezing skin without having a debilitating flashback to cryostasis is indicative of how far he's come. He's no longer the man Steve flew to New Zealand for a month after he had a hellish dissociative episode courtesy of New York's first snowfall.

The metal thaws behind him, sunlight through the thin sliver of window at the top of the wall slides higher on the door. Opalescent solar glare on silver steel, half a rainbow in his exhausted eyes, and the weight of evaporating dew in the air is what precedes a conversation that has his stomach in knots and crosses.

The digital, holographic clock strikes nine above the cell door.

Rising to his feet, Bucky can feel every single one of his 103 years in his back, the avoirdupois of a century's lamentable events on his weary shoulders. So he does a breathing exercise before he tries the door again.

Allowing his lungs to expand to their full capacity, and then holding that breath there until his alveoli scream, before exhaling in a rush of sweet-cereal scented breath, makes him feel less stone-like. More muscle than metal, soft and pliable and open. Steve would argue that that's perilous, here, in front of a woman who's so touch-and-go, all breakneck smiles, but he's not an Avenger when he enters that room -- he's Bucky Barnes, looking for more pieces of himself, pieces that he'll never find if his eyes are shut tight against the impact.

You answer upon the second knock. "Come in." Your voice lilts to a light taunt, but it’s effect is minimized by the drowsy scratch of your voice. Opening the door after letting it recognize his irises, Bucky thinks that the same can be said about the Christmas-just-came-early spark in your eyes, when they're underlined by dark bags. You're still wearing the green hoodie.

" 'Morning," he says softly, pausing in the doorway. The cell contains a metal chair of the same style as those in the interrogation rooms, and the cot you're sitting up in, back against the wall behind you. There's a small door in one corner that he knows leads to a toilet cubicle.

"To what do I owe this extraordinary pleasure, Mr. Barnes?"

"Bucky," he blurts unthinkingly, and your eyes widen in surprise and amusement. His guard is down, and he needs to be cautious. "And you can thank yourself for being so goddamn persistent and getting on everybody’s nerves."

The smirk brought to your face is aimed at your hands, bound loosely in front of you. A more tender expression than most seen before. The long, fretful night seems to be taking its toll on you. Perhaps you’re slipping. Or perhaps you’re pretending to, his instincts warn. He sighs, clenches his hands into fists, lets his nails dig into his palm. Metal whirs, purrs, and he releases when you move both bound hands towards the chair in front of you.

Bucky sits down, rubs his palms back and forth over his thighs, lets the grainy feel of the denim under scratch at his hands. "You know me,” he begins.

"Not nearly as well as I'd like,” you say with a grin, looking up from your hands. He glowers.

"I'm serious."

Your smile widens. "So am I. Come a little closer. I don't bite,” you tease, and he decides to take you up on it. Gets up and sits on the cot a couple of feet away from you, folding one leg up so his foot is under his thigh and keeping the other on the floor. You’re unfazed at having your bluff called. "...Unless you want me to,” you finish, and he ignores it.

"You kept asking for me while you were being questioned.”

“You were watching? Did you like what you see?”

The temptation to roll his eyes is strong, but he manages to hold it in check, and fixes a strong focus on you. This is important. It’s about his life. “You wanted to talk to me, so here I am. Now let’s talk.”

“Where would you like to start?”

“How about your name?”

“Oh, you’ll have to get to know me a little better if you want me to give up that secret. Try again," you urge, and he huffs. Like drawing blood from a rock.

Every question he could ask, every query he needs an answer to is being whirled around in the chaotic storm in his head, and it's so difficult to pick out just one. “Have we met?” He decides upon, momentarily forgoing the alternatives: Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you? Why do I feel like you're important? What part of me do you hold in those bound hands of yours?

Head tilted upwards, you consider the ceiling while searching for an answer. “Briefly.” And then you pause. Bite your lip, look down, make a so-so motion with your head. “Well, I wouldn’t say met, exactly. I wreaked some havoc and you watched.” That tells me jack-shit, sweetheart.

“When?”

“February of 2013," you respond instantaneously. Good memory. That's useful.

“So I was with Hydra," he assumes, instantly going down all the roads he might know you by. A mission, a murder, more violence, another apology. Were you partners in crime, or his target? Or were you just in the way?

“I don’t agree with that phrasing, but yes, I suppose so."

“Did we work together?” He dares to question.

There's a change: a tangible shift in the atmosphere, like the scent of ozone in the air before a thunderstorm. The stiffening of your posture, how you sit up straighter but hunch your shoulders against some invisible attack tells him he's touching a nerve, nearing cyclone waters. It takes a moment for the mask to fall back into place over your face, before you're able to answer, with venom, repulsed. “God, no. I would never work for them.” It's the most sincere emotion he's heard from you, this disgust. It eases him to know how strongly you feel about Hydra, but he’s wary of your raw response to it.

So, he treads more kindly. Softly. On eggshells sharp and off-white, feeling his way around the balance of your temper. “Then how did we meet?”

“I was on a heist,” you say, matter-of-factly. In your tone of voice, now even and professional, it sounds like the most natural thing in the world. As though stealing from megalomaniac neo-Nazis is just another day at work.

“What kind of heist? Who sent you?” Bucky observes the way you're pulling the edges of your sleeves over your hands as much as you can with your restraints. At this question, your smile returns, and he relaxes. Can now feel his leg falling asleep under him now that he's not so tense.

“Nobody sent me. I’m a free agent. I work for myself,” you announce, chin up.

“What were you going to steal from Hydra?” He asks, and your head turns slowly towards him, firework sparkle meeting level, cool, sky-blue, a hurricane simmering behind his irises.

“You.”

“We did not sign up for this,” Barton grumbles from his second cup of coffee -- addicts, the lot of them -- adjusting his hearing aid with a frown on his face at the turn of events.

Sam clears his throat, setting down a half-empty glass of orange juice next to Natasha’s espresso on the table and speaks next, “That’s messed up, man, that’s really, really messed up.” This is said with a shake of his head, and Bucky, having no response to either Barton or Sam, addresses Steve.

“There’s something she’s not telling me, Rogers.” He uses the last name to revert to the days of talking shop in green tents with the gravity of impending shelling in the air. Life or death, and though the circumstances aren’t quite so acute right now, this is a grave matter, too. Steve's standing hunched over the kitchen island, arms outstretched and hands flat on the granite surface, studying the pattern like it holds all the answers.

Bucky watches him think, but Stark, in Spider-Man PJs and the bed-head of the century, strolls into the kitchen at a leisurely pace and interrupts. “There are a lot of things she’s not telling you. Who she is, where the money is, wh--”

“She’s not telling me why," Bucky interrupts a tirade that he knows could continue forever, given the chance. “People don’t go around stealing super soldier assassins for the hell of it.”

“Maybe she’s working for someone who wanted you to work for them instead of Hydra," Peter suggests over a ridiculously large bowl of ridiculously colorful cereal at the breakfast nook.

“She doesn’t work for anyone. Says she’s a free agent."

“And you believe her?” Sam wonders. It's a genuine question, curious but not dismissive or doubtful.

“Barnes has quite the built-in lie detector," Nat tells Sam from next to him, her yoga-pant clad legs splayed across another chair. Yeah, he’s good at telling when people are being dishonest, but there’s also the fact this woman is way too fearless, fucking crazy to be made to do anyone's bidding. No chance in Hell does she takes orders.

Tony slumps in an orange loveseat. “Must be a Russian thing," he quips, and then breaks out into a yawn.

Bucky puts his hands on his hips and glares at all of them, by turn, sharply. "Would you let me finish?" He demands. "She couldn't tell me why she was going to steal me from Hydra, but she said she'd show me." One could hear a pin drop in this room, now, the bustle of Avengers replaced by the obviously preposterous proposition Bucky's relaying. "Just me," he adds.

"Me?" He asks, voice rising in pitch and volume, and he fights to control both, rising to his feet. "Why would you steal me?"

"Have you seen you?" You ask back, eyes scintillating, glowing with mirth. "Gorgeous hair, those eyes, and hands that I'm sure know how to treat a girl right.”

Bucky looks daggers at you, and you look back. "I'm serious."

"I thought you were Bucky,” you say innocently, and he thinks he could scream in frustration, but he drops down, kneels just beside where you sit, and holds onto the edge of the cot like it’s the end of the world he’s falling off of.

"I don't think you understand how important this is to me. You know something about me you won't say. I've been trying to put together my past so I can understand myself better and you have a piece of my history. I need to know,” he enunciates each word as if it’s his last. Needs to convey the severity of the situation, how he has been trying to rebuild himself into a new life from the scraps of the old ones. He’s aware that he’s complete as he is but he also makes choices for himself now, and he chooses to know.

You look down, and although it’s your hands that are bound, you offer a golden prayer. "Let me show you." A lifeline, something he doesn’t want to believe and doesn’t know if he can trust. Hence, the question:

"What?"

A sad shrug of your shoulders is the first answer, and it all starts to unravel from there. "I can't tell you, I really can't. It's complicated and a really long story--"

Bucky elevates himself on his knees, his fingers dig in a little tighter, and the metal of the bed begins to creak ever so slightly. "The way I see it, we have all the time in the world, darlin'," he says in a thick voice, emotion simmering at the corners of his lips.

"Darlin'?" You can’t help but ask, without any flirt this time, any teasing, just a question in a tone as surprised as he is at the slip of tongue.

Bucky decides to ignore the interruption. "So let's start at the beginning.”

Fervently, you shake your head. "I can't." At his wide-eyed disbelief, "I mean it, I can't."

"No, you can, you just won't,” he insists.

"We could have a grammar lesson if you want, or I could show you why I was going to steal the Winter Soldier."

"What do you mean show me?" Bucky asks, moving to sit on the chair again. Leaning forward, he places his hands on his thighs, looks into your eyes to pull forth the words you won’t give him.

You blink, unbudgingly. "I have to take you somewhere. It's the only way to explain."

A sharp bark of a laugh escapes him, and he shakes his head as it recedes into chuckles. Your face is now blank and expressionless, gauging how to handle this, and he gives you the first response that comes to mind. "You're full of shit."

"What happened to darlin' ?"

Meeting your eyes, he says, “You want me to let you out so you can escape. A five-year-old could see through that.” Then, Bucky leans back in his chair, crosses one ankle over the other as well his arms. His hooded gaze is at a stalemate with yours, and it’s a hopeless tug of war. So this is how it ends. A night spent sleepless in vain, a few battle bruises and the tug of disappointment in his belly.

A dismal, and last-ditch sigh ripples through the air, from lips dark and worried bloody. Your eyes look overcast and you open and close your mouth repeatedly to say something, but do not voice your thoughts. Giving you the time to formulate whatever perfect sentence you’re trying to utter is torturous, but he waits. Until you stop, speechless, and he gets to his feet. Turns to the door, and then you speak from behind him, while his hand hovers over the handle.

"Let me take you, and only you, to the place you need to see, and I'll cooperate. I'll give you what I have left of the money, and I'll plead guilty in court and serve my time.” Bucky freezes. "Just come with me,” and you’re the one making requests, making pleas now. It’s inexplicable, he knows he should be looking this particular gift horse in the mouth, and he convinces himself that he will, in time, but right now, he accepts.

"Was that an innuendo?" He asks, still facing away, the question indicating a truce.

"If you want it to be," you say, and he turns around to look at you. "What do you say, Barnes, are we going on a road trip?

Hope swells somewhere in him he thought had been long abandoned for darker days and arduous nights. The same intuition that taught him to ask for this piece of himself tells him something is coming. Something that’s going to make a difference.

"Bucky. It's Bucky. And yeah, I guess we are.”

#ayesha writes #jamiesmadwritingbash #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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dutchdread · 3 years ago

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Hello! I'm quite new in FFVII fandom and I have a doubt. Soldier Cloud doesn't remember he loved Tifa, right? Why? It's a confusing point and I'm finding contradictory opinions on the web. Thanks

Edit: I originally went into a lot of specifics for this post, but I just realized that since you're a newbie, your question might have been a bit more surface level than how I read it. I figured you were asking about how it's possible to forget a feeling, but you might have been asking about the mechanics behind his memory loss in general, so I'll give a quick answer concerning that first, then if you wanted a more in-depth answer, you can read on. Clouds memory loss is the result of three different parts: 1: Jenova cells. Cloud has been injected with Jenova cells, Jenova is able to read minds and adjust its host based on that. Jenova tricked the cetra by coming in the guise of their loved ones. She's a parasite, through Jenova Sephiroth is able to exert his will on those who share Jenova cells. Clouds persona was made up for a large part of memories that were read from Tifa. Had Cloud not received that specific input he would likely have become one of the black robed individuals, completely sub-subservient to Sephiroths will. 2: Mako poisoning. Cloud was drenched in Mako, Mako is made up out of condensed lifestream, which are the souls and memories of the dead. This basically jumbled up his own soul to where it became difficult for him to keep his own identity intact. This is similar to dying where your soul is mingled with the lifestream and you lose your individuality. Cloud had a weak sense of self and was therefore very susceptible to this effect. 3: Emotional trauma. Cloud is ashamed of his failures, he failed to protect Tifa as a kid, failed to join soldier, failed to save his mother, failed to save Nibleheim, failed to save Tifa AGAIN, and failed to save Zack. Cloud can't live with the past and set-up emotional barriers in order to protect himself from the truth of his past. Those are the three reasons in a nut-shell, for a more detailed explanation about how it's possible for Cloud to actually forget his feelings, read on. These are the kinds of things where a bit of interpretation and reading between the lines is unavoidable, there is not some kind of detailed guide on exactly what Soldier Cloud remembers and feels, but this is my informed opinion.

We run into a problem here where first we have to go through the tricky business of describing what love actually is. If you want my more detailed opinion on that, I recommend reading this post: "What is love, baby don't hurt me"

You said you're new to the fandom, so let me first warn you that I will go into spoilers about basically everything, so if you happen to only have played remake, I'd advise against continuing. What is important for this question is that one of the main things that distinguishes love from merely a physiological reaction is an intellectual understanding of who you are, who the other person is, what they mean to you, and why. Otherwise, love would be reduced just a chemical reaction in your body. If, for some reason, I were to totally forget about my brother, and were then to run into him would I still have an emotional reaction to him? Would I sub-consciously still know that this is someone who matters deeply to me? Or would he feel the same as a stranger? I can't confidently say one way or the other, nor do the real life working of love necessarily apply to a fictional setting, but I do know that my memories of him, and my conscious knowledge of what he means to me is at the very least an important part of the emotional experience. Lets break up your question into several parts to get some nuance, because you might be asking one of several things. 1: Why does soldier Cloud not remember that he used to have feelings for Tifa when he was a child. 2: Why does Cloud losing his memories also make him temporarily lose his current love for Tifa. Both of these questions have similar answers. The first thing to point out is that Clouds condition isn't "memory loss", memory loss is a part of it, but it's more like a symptom. The real problem is closer to repression. Cloud doesn't just "not remember" the past, he's repressing it. He's repressing who he was, and everything that might conflict with the fake persona he's built for himself. When he hears the word "Zack", it's not just a name he can't remember, no, his mind straight up refuses to even hear it. This is the first clue to why Cloud might not "remember his feelings", because if they don't fit the image he's trying to convey, he would repress them. But I think Cloud is, on some level, aware of his feelings. When he thinks Tifa gets injured, he panics, when someone flirts with Tifa, he gets jealous. He gives her the flower, he calls her beautiful. But if he were to act like a smitten village boy, that would definitely not fit the cool soldier façade he's putting on, so he's hiding those emotions from both the outside world, and himself. In my opinion we all put on some sort of mask when dealing with other people, although for the most of us it's not that intense, it's pretending to be happy when you're sad, keeping calm when really you're fuming, but for Cloud it's a bit different his façade is not just a mask he puts on for the world while he himself knows he's different in private, Cloud himself believes the lie. His mind will even lie to itself in order to protect himself from the truth. And the truth is very much entwined with his feelings concerning Tifa. All of his posturing, all of his failures, all of his inadequacies spring from those events in his childhood. So not only is Clouds mind repressing all the real memories of those times, causing Cloud to not realizing how important Tifa really is, but it's highly likely that it would even repress the memories of the feelings that caused all of it, along with the feelings themselves. I think most people can relate about having embarrassing childhood memories about stupid things we did to impress some girl or boy. And to recap the mechanics behind it, there are three main contributing factors. The first are the Jenova cells in his body, Jenova can read minds and shapeshift, and acts almost like a parasite taking over its host. This is the first and most important part of the actual mechanics of how Cloud lost his memories, and since this is a little more tangible than just normal human repression, it's not to be wondered at that the effects might be a bit more extreme and far-reaching than they would be if a person in our world was suffering from trauma induced memory repression. The second is the Mako

showers Cloud experienced. Mako is made from condensed lifestream, and contains the thoughts and feelings of the dead. When someone with a weak sense of self, like Cloud, is showered in Mako, it becomes easy to lose sight of who you really are in the maelstrom of thoughts and voices. This would very likely aid make your mind more malleable. The third is normal human psychology. Most stories have internal and external hurdles to overcome, when done correctly the external hurdles are in some way representative of the internal emotional struggles. The mechanics through which something happens represents some deeper, more human moral lesson or experience. In this case, while mechanically Clouds fake persona is created by the Jenova cells, narratively it is caused by his feelings of inadequacy, his fear of failure, and his desire to be someone he's not. That's the human story that is being told through swords and explosions. You have to look at these things together to really understand Clouds fake persona, the narrative purpose it serves, and as a result, why his relationship with Tifa would be one of the things that gets repressed. It's not the memories themselves that matter most, it's the emotions associated with them.

There is some irony here, Cloud originally wanted to be a soldier in order to get Tifa to notice him, but actually living out that "cool guy" persona requires him to not acknowledge those feelings, luckily for him, "soldier Cloud" isn't the version of Cloud that Tifa is interested in anyway.

#Cloti #Tifa Strife #cloud strife #ffvii remake

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gaybutterflynerd · 4 years ago

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Ok hot take: The Eggpire should’ve won at the banquet.

Gonna be honest I really want the Eggpire to win in a major stream. It’s just... I guess I’ve always had trouble taking them seriously and antagonistic force? Let me explain why.

One of the things I love about The Dream SMP is the fact that the antagonists have a long history of winning. When it’s a battle between 2 conflicting sides it feels like battle, and (in the older streams especially) because of the improvised status people didn’t hold back, and it felt like if someone managed to win organically there would be no chance of retcons. Anything can happen. That’s the best part of it being streams, there’s no “oh there’s a bunch of episodes left with ‘insert thing here’ in the title, so they to win”. There are real, unpredictable stakes. Not to mention, every major antagonist has done something tangible, and had something that makes them a real threat. Let’s look at the antagonists thus far:

Dream (l’mansburg independence war):

Actively prevented L’mansburg from becoming a thing. He was the admin, it was his say.

Had stolen the Discs back in the disc war

Got Eret to betray everyone, causing all of the members to die

Blew up the nation itself

Killed Tommy in a duel

Got power over Tommy via the discs

Basically won the war

Final Explanation: Though this was back when there was less roleplay there was still tangible acts and reasons to take him seriously. Not only did he have a past with conflict with the current “protagonist”, he basically won at every step of the way. He was bad, because he stood in the way of the “protagonists” getting what they want, and he had real power to do that.

Jschlatt:

Had the presidency, and by the viewer vote rather than a simple power seize (legitimacy as a threat)

Had the charisma/intimidation to get the citizens of L’mansburg to enforce an exile of Tommy and Wilbur

The speech. You know the one.

Was abusive to Quackity

Killed cats

Taxed Niki (and got her to pay said taxes)

Caused Wilbur’s downward spiral

Manipulated Tubbo, and purposefully kept him from Tommy

Had the intimidation/charisma/perceived power to get Techno to kill Tubbo (his ally) at the festival.

Was directly responsible for Tubbo loosing his cannon lives, this would later be one of the reasons he was so vulnerable to Dream

Warped the nation into something that felt wrong

Got Dream to betray Pogtopia

Final Explanation: While Jschlatt didn’t have a lot of power tangibly, he had a ton of power in convincing others to do things, and was very good at seeming powerful. That being said the effects of this persuasion had the tangible consequences of lives lost, and lost allies. Not to mention he wasn’t even the main antagonist on Doomsday, I’d argue that goes to...

Wilbur Soot:

Blew up L’mansburg

Lied to Tommy, and betrayed him on Doomsday

Was someone the audience saw as a good person before Wilbur’s downward spiral (legitimacy)

His speeches were some of the most iconic in the series

Was someone Tommy looked up to

Worked with Dream, a known antagonist

Actively egged on Tommy’s anger in the pit

Kept trying to pressure Tommy to do things he repeatedly said he didn’t want to do

Actively staged the blowing up if L’mansburg so that Tommy would be onstage when it blew up. Tommy who also only had one cannon life. Even if it didn’t succeed, attempted murder to prove a point is not okay.

Didn’t care when Tubbo died in the festival

Didn’t care that Tubbo was onstage

Didn’t care that Tubbo was onstage when he blew up L’mansburg

Final Explanation: Even if you don’t view Wilbur as a bad person, he has done some bad things, and was most certainly an antagonist. He destroyed the nation we worked to build, and his paranoia caused him to do actions that could be described charitably as questionable.

Dream (exile conflict and beyond):

(Oh boy, this is gonna be a long list...)

Did everything himself (legitimacy x10, especially after Jschlatt’s power and downfall being reliant on others)

Previous history as an antagonist

Super skilled and powerful. One of the best fighters on the server. Extremely powerful. (legitimacy)

Took 2 of Tommy’s cannon lives. Eventually took all 3.

Used the threat of Tommy’s death to get him to go what he wanted. A threat caused by said taking of 2 cannon lives.

Built walls around L’mansburg, and forced Tubbo to exile Tommy for him to stop

Blew up Tommy’s armor (and other stuff) every day in Exile

Manipulate Tubbo into thinking he was his friend.

Told ghostbur to go into the forest and leave Tommy so he would be alone at the party

Kicked George off the thrown

Payed Sam to make Pandora’s Vault to imprison all his enemies. Actively helped with the construction.

Telling Tommy his friends hated him

Telling Tommy that Tubbo never actually visited to make him question his sanity

Just, his entire abuse and manipulation of Tommy

Overall, just exile (I’m not going to list everything, there’s too much)

Seemingly having no points of attack against him (legitimacy)

The scenes of Techno to get Techno to hand over Tommy (legitimacy)

Getting Techno to team with him to blow up L’mansburg (legitimacy)

Blowing up L’mansburg for a final time

The fact that him, Techno, and Phil won against the entire rest of the server (legitimacy)

His manipulation and control of Ranboo

The Vault, and him getting Tubbo and Tommy into a vulnerable position despite their preparations

The fact he was going to force Tommy to be completely isolated in a prison with the only think he could do is think about how it’s kind of his fault his friend died

The fact he was going to kill Tubbo

The fact he was going to keep Skeppy in a 1 by 1 cage to blackmail BBH

The fact he was going to steal all the server’s most valuable possessions to control them

Manipulating Sapnap during his prison visit, so he could facilitate further manipulation of Ranboo

Killing Tommy in the prison

Laughing after her killed Tommy in prison

Saying he was going to kill him again as an experiment

Saying he was going to brung back Wilbur, specifically after Tommy begged him not too

His reaction to people finding out about Tommy’s death and revival was “do they think it’s cool”

You get the point, Dream was done a lot. Its a very long list.

Final Explanation: Dream is powerful because he physically does everything himself. He has no apparent weakness. He’s manipulative, seemingly obsessed with hurting Tommy, physically powerful, and is the primary antagonist to the server. He wins the majority of the time, and when he wins it doesn’t feel like anything could be done to prevent it. He also relies on himself for basically everything. Overall, Dream does an amazing job of being an effective threat.

While I could go into the other characters that are more controversial as being classified as “antagonists”, I think you get the point. What makes antagonists on the sever intimidating is the tangible things they do. Every good antagonist on the server has a list of mostly irreversible tangible effects of the plot. Jschlatt got Tubbo executed, Wilbur blew up L’mansburg, Dream did... a lot of things. Every major antagonist has succeeded in some way at successfully irreversibly hurting or destroying something the audience had an active attachment to. However in my eyes the egg has not done this as well as the other antagonists.

What makes the egg different from any other antagonist as its fundamentally a bunch of blocks, rather than an actual person. Not to say the egg can’t work because of it, but in general selling the audience of the idea that it’s am actual dangerous force is extremely important. Unfortunately, it doesn’t really succeed in doing so.

Let’s attempt what we did for all the other antagonists, but this time apply it to the Eggpire. Let’s see what they have they done:

The Eggpire (feel free to add anything I miss):

The egg warps the mind of those on the server. It can generally influence people into either loving or seemingly into hating it.

It twisted Bad (an previously wholesome character, but with hints of a darker side) into someone willing to do some pretty bad things, including murder (legitimacy)

It brainwashes its members into working for it

The Egg took Skeppy, this is likely why Bad is willing to work for it

They tried to kill Tommy multiple times simply for the fact he’s immune to the egg

They celebrated Tommy’s death due to his connection with the egg

They tried to feed Puffy (someone originally a part of the Eggpire) to the egg. They eventually send a mercenary after her as well.

They put Sam in a hole with The Egg overnight. Though he did not join, he ate his own skin, however this has not been mentioned as a persisting injury, or even been mentioned again to my knowledge.

They stuck Ranboo in the hole near the Egg. This caused him to freak out and later try to destroy it.

They stuck Hannah in a box near The Egg despite her allergy to it.

The egg blew up a statue in the Foolish confrontation.

They trick and trap everyone at the Red Banquet

They planned to execute a room full of people

They Killed Foolish

So on the surface, it looks like they’ve done a lot of bad things on par with the others. However upon a closer look you will realize something: almost everything on this list either failed, or was something that had no importance established before The Egg plot started. Let me explain why with all the corresponding bullets:

The egg warps the mind of those on the server. Yes, it technically does, but when you think about it no one who actively was against the egg has been forced to join it. The only person was Bad and it wasn’t The Egg’s control, it was Skeppy. Even those left overnight with it haven’t joined. We can only conclude it’s abilities are fairly weak.

It twisted Bad. Actually this is a fair one, though it should be noted Bad had basically no plot relevance before this arc. However, though this one is a legitimate source of legitimacy for The Egg, it’s a bit counteracted by all the other points.

It brainwashes its members into working for it. Does it really though? Basically everyone but Bad was influenced by it offering power. No one who actively hated the idea of joining the Egg has joined it, despite Bad’s claims. They mostly all joined for power, power they seemingly have no gotten. But still not much has changed as The Badlands was already power hungry before The Egg. It can be argued that thats the point, but it still fails in relation to all the other Eggpire failures.

The Egg took Skeppy, this is likely why Bad is willing to work for it. This is another good one... except it happened 4 months ago...

They tried to kill Tommy multiple times. Yes they tried. And failed. Multiple times.

They celebrated Tommy’s death due to his connection with the egg. While this is bad as an action, it’s more of a “look how x has effected these characters” than an actual tangible bad act. It’s more of a dick move than evil.

They tried to feed Puffy to The Egg. They eventually send a mercenary after her as well. Yes they tried. And failed. And yes they did try to send a mercenary. A mercenary who not only failed, but betrayed them.

They put Sam in a hole with The Egg overnight. You know this could be good if it left a scar, or became a big thing in Sam’s character. However it was never mentioned again.

They stuck Ranboo in the hole near the Egg. He got out after immediately, they didn’t even close the hole. Also I don’t see “one of the most rich people on the server now wants to destroy you” as a win. They seemingly gained nothing from this.

They stuck Hannah in a box near The Egg despite her allergy to it. Okay finally they turned someone. Someone completely new to the server. Someone who was not involved in any events before this. You know, like every other Eggpire member.

The egg blew up a statue in the Foolish confrontation. This is the only display of power we have ever gotten from The Egg, and Foolish out completed them with the “Totem of Death” thing. It wasn’t even an important statue.

They trick and trap everyone at the Red Banquet. They do that. Then they loose and get The Egg itself captured by all of their enemies directly after pissing them off.

They planned to execute a room full of people. They did plan to do that. Then they failed. They failed partially to do with the act of poking Techno with a stick that was his visit with Ranboo.

They Killed Foolish. This would be a lot more impressive if Foolish didn’t have all 3 cannon lives left, and if it wasn’t followed by them failing to kill an entire room of unarmed people, and having one of their own members loosing a cannon life. And they lost the godamn egg itself

Basically everything done was either to something newly introduced to the roleplay, or it failed. The Eggpire keeps repeatedly failing every step of the way, and has yet to have a major success. What makes it not work it though it may win some battles, it’s never at a state of winning the war. It makes it so hard to take them seriously when they make a threat. They have the success rate of Team Rocket from Pokemon, and seemingly every stream has them blasting off again. There are plenty of things that could be done to remedy this: they could get someone with heavy plot armor previous establishment to the lore under their control, they could make a plan that actually succeeds, they could successfully pull of an execution like the one at the banquet, or anything that physically effects the characters on the server. However they need to succeed in something. The problem with the failure at the banquet was that it further proved that the Eggpire will never succeed. It could’ve been a killing on par with Doomsday, yet instead we got deus ex Techno and Quackity.

I rest my case. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

(But anyway that’s just my view of why I never could really be intimidated by the egg, I’m open to counter arguments and suggestions. Lol I really just want the egg to successfully do something)

#the red banquet #the egg #the eggpire #eggpire #badboyhalo #bbh #dsmp badboyhalo #dream smp #mcyt #I swear #just do something #anything #that’s all it takes to fix this #I’m tired of how they keep failing yet are meant to be intimidating #I can’t take them seriously lol

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gallavictorious · 4 years ago

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“Will you suck my dick whenever I want?” Sex, Power, and the Gallavich Modes of Communication.

Becaue of reasons I want to talk a bit about the rather infamous “suck my dick” scene of 4x08.

This is a complicated scene and I have complicated feelings about it, which is pretty much the above-mentioned 'reasons' for writing this exploratory meta: when in confoundment, hash it out by putting all your thoughts down on paper. Fair warning: this is long, and since it deals with dubious consent you might want to give it a miss if discussion of that sort of thing upsets you. Same goes if you believe that Ian really is just asking for unlimited access to blowjobs, or find extensive (over)analysis of fictional works silly.

The accusation sometimes levelled at Ian in regards to this scene is that he's being manipulative and practically forcing Mickey into performing sexual acts he would otherwise not perfom, taking advantage of Mickey's emotional vulnerability to secure sexual pleasure for himself. He certainly issues an ultimatum and this scene is uncomfortable to watch because of that, but at the same time it's always seemed pretty obvious to me that endless blowjobs isn't really Ian's objective here. If that's all he wanted, he could easily get that without having to resort to extortion: finding sexual partners has never been a problem for him. No, there are other things at work, and below I try to figure out what.

Let's kick of by a quote from Oscar Wilde: “Everything is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.”

Because yes, this is about power rather than sex – which is another way of saying that what Ian truly wants isn't for Mickey to give him a blowjob, but for Mickey to agree to do it in spite of his initial reluctance. Which still isn't a very flattering look for Ian, because neither demanding blowjobs nor demanding your partner's submission is particularly charming (outside of negotiated kink, of course). However, I think it's fair to say that the power Ian seeks here is not the power to (permanently) place himself above Mickey, but the power to once more level the playing field between them and regain some sense of the agency and control that Ian felt he lost during the whole mess leading up to Mickey's wedding.

From the very start, Ian's been wanting more from Mickey than Mickey's been willing or able to give (not because Mickey isn't as into Ian as Ian is into him, but because of all that other shit: you know well what I'm talking about). To a large extent, Ian's been reining himself in, wary of asking too much, lest he scare Mickey off. Whenever he's openly pushed for more – trying to kiss Mickey, putting his hand on the glass, insisting that Mickey do not murder his father – Mickey has brusquely rebuffed him. However, he's had quite a bit of success with less direct methods, as when he 'gets' Mickey to kiss him by explaining that one of the reasons he likes Ned is that Ned isn't afraid to. (And for the record, I don't think this was a conscious ploy by Ian: he was simply being honest with Mickey, in a way that also conveyed his disappointment in Mickey's continued unwillingness to kiss.)

Ian's been in love with Mickey for a long time. For a long time, he doesn't tell Mickey this, which is partly due to the above-mentioned fear of scaring Mickey off, and partly due to Ian genuinely not being sure if Mickey likes him back. (“How do you know if a guy you've been hanging out with likes you?”) But following the very obviously jealous beatdown of Ned, the kiss in the van, and the invitation to a sleep-over, Ian is finally convinced that Mickey does indeed like him too – only 3x06 happens and Mickey is not only shutting him out again, he's getting married to someone else.

But knowing what he now knows – i.e. that Mickey is in love with him – Ian doen't back off or try (to the best of his feeble ability) to play it cool. He puts himself out there, he puts his emotions on display, and he repeatedly begs Mickey not to get married.

Mickey gets married all the same.

Now, Ian has a strong sense of integrity and does not enjoy having to depend on someone else. Ian is not very good at admitting when he's wrong. Ian is proud. Because of this and quite apart from the heartbreak of losing Mickey to marriage, I'd imagine that he's feeling less than great about being scorned after having been so open about his wishes. (Well. Scorned is a somewhat strong word: Mickey's obviously still down for him, but he's not willing to give Ian what he wants – a real relationship, as Ian defines it.) As far as Ian is concerned, the situation has created a tangible power gap between them, with Mickey having the upper hand. (It might be argued that the power gap's been there the entire time, with Ian wanting more than Mickey was willing to give, but up until that point Ian has not actively asked for things Mickey's made clear is out of bounds but has accepted Mickey's marking of boundaries with a shrug and an 'oh'.)

Mickey's broken “don't” as Ian announces his intention to enlist isn't enough to bridge that gap: it's an admission of feeling, of need, but does not indicate any intention on Mickey's part to further act on that feeling. It doesn't change anything: Ian still wants a commited relationship, Mickey still wants Ian around to fuck him even while he stays married to Svetlana.

And for all that we sympathize with Mickey – which we bloody well should, because he was the victim of a horrible crime and trapped in the shittiest of situations through no fault of his own – it isn't unreasonable of Ian to not want to be the secret 'mistress' of a closeted man. He's been there, done that, and quite understandably wants more from Mickey. He isn't wrong for trying to extricate himself from that situation, even as it's utterly understandable why Mickey isn't able to give him what he wants at the time.

Life's like that, kids. Sometimes there are no good choices, and sometimes no one's at fault even though everything's an absolute mess and people get hurt. (I mean, Terry's at fault. Terry is a huge fucking cunt.)

It bears saying that Ian isn't a saint and doesn't behave perfectly in this situation: he shows little understanding for Mickey's entirely justifiable fears, and rather than telling Mickey that he loves him, he insists that Mickey admits that he loves Ian, which I do find a bit presumptuous. Ian's small smile when Mickey comes close to breaking when Ian announces his plan to leave indicates that he finds some small measure of pleasure in knowing that he's hurt Mickey the way Mickey has hurt him: though I think it's not primarily pleasure in the hurt itself, but rather pleasure in what it signifies, i.e. that Mickey does care about him too. But that isn't enough; that isn't really news.

So he enlists and that goes the way it goes and then Mickey seeks him out at the club and brings him home, to the bed Mickey normally shares with his wife. This, I think, tells Ian something; it suggests something beyond Mickey just having feelings for him. It's just a suggestion, mind, so it doesn't actually resolve anything, but it's enough of a something that Ian's willing to have a conversation about possibly returning when Mickey comes to see him at the Gallagher house.

But Ian has a problem. If he simply goes back to be being with Mickey without anything changing he has effectively agreed to the sort of arrangement he joined the army to very pointedly escape. Quite apart from him not wanting that sort of relationship, it would signify a failure to proud guy Ian, and following his failure to even make it through basic, I think that's not something he's willing to allow. He still wants to be with Mickey, though. Knowing that Mickey is as unlikely to divorce his wife now as he was to call off the wedding, Ian can't ask for that; he can't ask again for the type or relationship he really wants – but he can't go back to what they had previously either. This puts him in a pretty tough spot, and I think this is why he asks for Mickey to suck his dick. While not achieving exactly what he wants it still gives him enough of a something that he feels comfortable resuming his relationship with Mickey:

Firstly, it serves to even the score and redistribute the power between them. Yes, this is him asking Mickey to submit to him and for Mickey to acknowledge Ian's power over him, but it's a request made from what Ian perceives to be a position of weakness (because of the whole Ian putting himself out there and Mickey getting married in spite of that). By momentarily placing himself above Mickey, Ian seeks balance the scales, bringing them back to an even level. This is a one-time thing, over and done with once Mickey agrees. Evidence suggests this works very well, too: look at their interactions the next day, when they're back to their normal and easy back and forth. Even so, it's a pretty fucked up thing to ask for, but we need to remember that Ian has a fairly complicated relationship with sex, given all that he's been through, and probably doesn't take this kind of thing nearly as seriously as we might want him to.

Secondly, Ian wants Mickey to commit to an emotional honesty he has so far resisted. If they can't be an official couple, he still wants that much. They were getting somewhere before Terry fucked everything up, and Ian has zero interest in going back to a relationship where Mickey pretends that it's only about the banging and shies away from any notions of an emotional involvement.

Ian wants Mickey to let himself be vulnerable with Ian, and while performing a sexual act to signify a commitment not to let things be only about sex seems pretty damned contradictory at first glance, this specific type of sexual act – which is bitch-coded in the enviroment Mickey has grown up in and which he probably finds hard to admit that he likes (until he doesn't: “I suck his dick and I love it” – but this line really supports both the idea that Mickey doesn't in fact mind sucking Ian's dick and that it's something that isn't “appropriate” for him to like; else he wouldn't have thrown it in Terry's face like that) – signifies more that just the sexual act itself: Ian knows that Mickey likes sucking his dick, and he wants Mickey to own that (as Mickey owns being a bottom): he wants Mickey to lay off the bullshit and be honest about who is and what he wants, to Ian, if not to anyone else at this point. The last time Ian asked this of Mickey, Mickey kicked him in the face, so I don't think it's too hard to see why Ian would go about it in this way rather than asking for what he really wants outright.

What he seeks here is a promise of a long-time commitment, and that's why the “whenever I want” bit is significant, because it points ahead to the future, even if Ian has no intention of enforcing the actual sucking of dicks bit.

And I think it's very important that both Ian and Mickey are ver clear about the fact that Ian will not enforce this. I think they are: for all that they have trouble communicating at times, this is the sort of subtle signalling they are pretty good at. I guess it comes down a bit to character intepretation though: I just don't think Ian would seriously ask this of Mickey, and I don't think Mickey would agree to it either. They both see this for the one-time act of submission it is, with all that it signifies and symbolizes.

(Let's be clear: if Ian had actually continued to enforce this demand, leading them down a path of a 'blow me right now or I'm leaving' that would have been pretty damned horrible. The reason I don't think this happened, apart from finding it OOC, is the complete lack of evidence that things are weird between them going forward, and if Ian had been forcing Mickey, a rape victim, into performing sexual acts, things sure as hell would have been weird between them. After this, they're back on an even footing: they sure have conflicts, which culminates with Mickey coming out [and, yes – demanding that someone come out isn't great, especially when that someone is facing the kind of threats Mickey is, but at the same time it's perfectly reasonable for Ian not to want to stay in a secret relationship: again, it's a fucked-up situation with no good choices], but they're on level fighting ground. It's not the sort of conflict resolution I'd recommend, but it apparently worked for them, and given their generally messy dynamic, I'm not really surprised.)

In fairness, Ian isn't really being nice about this whole thing, and there's absolutely some glee and triump when Mickey actually agrees to do it. A sense of vindication, surely, after what happened between them just before Ian left. But do notice that while Ian kind of does rub it in – “suck my dick, whenever I want” with that pleased smile – he doesn't in fact make Mickey say it, even though Mickey's request – “don't make me say it, asswipe” – does make it clear that if Ian demands it, Mickey will. There is an element of payback to this whole exchange, there's no denying that, but Ian's not out to actually be cruel to Mickey: he wants them to be back on even and equal ground, and he wants Mickey to own his desires and emotions.

So yeah, it's still not great by any means, and it's still uncomfortable to watch, but if we take into account Ian's somewhat causal relationship to sex in general, as well as Mickey's unwillingness both to emotionally commit and to actually talk about things, I think it's fair to say that Ian is not trying to manipulate Mickey, but rather to stand his ground and express his wishes in a way that he believes Mickey can and will play along with. (I, incidentally, think that Ian might be wrong, and that it's possible that Mickey has missed him enough and worked with himself enough that if Ian had made instead asked “will we actually talk about our feelings” Mickey would have gone along with that too, to the best of his ability – but this is actually way easier for Mickey to roll with.) It is pretty messed up, but viewed through the lense of their shared history and less than straightforward modes of communication, it does make a whole lot of sense.

To me at least – as always, feel free to disagree or add your own perspectives. I view meta as an invitation to discuss, not as a finalized argument to end discussion, and there are certainly aspects I haven’t touched upon here. And if you have seen this discussed before, I'd be super grateful if you'd point in me in the right direction.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #4x08 #tw: dubious consent #meta #yeah i might have gone a bit overboard with this whole thing #but it IS a very complex scene #and this is how i make sense of things #rambling endlessly about them #my stuff

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timelordthirteen · 5 years ago

Text

In All Things 18/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit (eventually)

Summary: A Rumbelle arranged marriage AU.

Chapter Summary: After the incident with Milton, Gold makes peace with Belle.

Notes: Look at me with two updates! :D I hope after the chaos of the last chapter that you all find this one a bit cheerier.

[AO3]

Previous: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17]

Gold watched as Milton climbed into the back of the carriage.

He had a noticeable limp that he was doing his best to mask, but Gold had experience with such things and the awkward movement of the man’s leg was a dead giveaway. The box lurched forward, and Milton wobbled in his seat, which made Gold smile. He hoped the road was riddled with ruts and holes the entire way to the palace. A bruised backside and stiff limbs was the least the bastard deserved for the way he spoke about Belle, and for the blatant disrespect he’d shown to Maurice. There was no doubt some associating between Milton and the King or he would have never dared make such comments. Gold would have Jefferson put a man on it as soon as they returned to Thornhill.

Sighing, he turned away from the window and eyed the paper on the desk. It was a standard land contract awaiting the relevant signatures, but just looking at it gave him a sick feeling. Later, Maurice would sign one side and he would sign the other, and Avonlea would become part of his entitlement, effectively transferring all debts, leases, and rights, and blocking King George from whatever he’d been plotting to do with it. Normally, he would feel a rather smug satisfaction at that, but instead there was only a hollow guilt that his last minute plan had upset Belle. He didn’t blame her, and if he had been in her place he would have been angry as well, but she had left before he could fully explain his proposition.

He had hoped to do that sooner rather than later, but when he’d gone to her quarters after lunch she was nowhere to be found. A maid informed him that she had taken Baeden for a tour of the grounds, which pleased him, but also delayed the inevitable. He was thankful that she hadn’t been so out of sorts that she was keeping to her room, but he knew that the longer he waited to explain himself, the worse the outcome might be.

He smiled ruefully and slipped the contract into his ledger book, and tucked it under his arm before taking up his cane. The first step around the desk had him sucking in a breath as the stabbing pain in his leg traveled up from his ankle and knee, and radiated across his hip. Attacking Milton had been foolish for multiple reasons, including that it had exacerbated his condition. His knuckles went white as he gripped the handle of his cane tight, breathing slowly through the sensation until it subsided.

Once it had, he took a cautious step and was met with only the usual ache and stiffness. Letting out another heavy sigh, he left to find Maurice.

Gold dropped his ledger on the desk with a muted thud that seemed much louder than it sounded.

It was done. Avonlea was his, officially, and he hated himself for it. The rest of the process would take some time, and would need the King’s approval, but the first step was done. Getting that royal approval would likely be difficult, particularly if Milton got his story to the King before Gold, but ultimately, George wouldn’t dare withhold it, not if he wanted to remain in power.

Gold knew that continually relying on his knowledge of the King’s secrets to get his way was dangerous, but it was effective. At least it was as long as he was alive. Perhaps there was something he could do about that as well, something to further protect Belle and Bae. He put the thought aside, and checked the time, wondering if he should wait until after dinner to talk to Belle, before deciding that it was best not to wait any longer to face her wrath.

Bae came out of Belle’s room, and Gold stopped in the middle of the corridor, frowning. His son came towards him, shaking his head.

“Whatever you did, Papa,” Bae said, “you should tell Belle you’re sorry.”

Gold smiled. “Well, that’s what I’m here to do.”

Bae nodded. “Good.”

“I heard Belle gave you a tour of Avonlea.”

The boy’s face lit up in a wide grin. “Yes, it was fun! She showed me the garden and the stables, and introduced me to her horse, Philippe.”

His eyes widened. “Her horse?”

Bae nodded again. “He’s big and kinda slow, but she likes him very much. And then we rode out to the cliffs so I could see the ocean!”

Gold nearly fell over. “You - rode? To the cliffs? With - with Belle?”

The boy gave him a funny look, as if he had questioned the sky being blue. “Yeah. Why? Am I in trouble?”

He shook his head and patted the boy on the shoulder. “No, no of course not. I’m just - surprised.”

Bae’s head tilted to the side. “Why?”

Belle having a horse was not some great shock, every noble did, and most of them could at least stay on one without falling off. He didn’t understand why the image of Belle riding out on a horse with his son, to the southern cliffs at the edge of Avonlea that looked out over the water, was such a strange thing. He supposed it was because he had never seen her riding, and that because of that he was unsure of her skill on horseback, though he knew she wouldn’t put Bae at risk.

He frowned again. “I - I don’t know, actually.”

Truly he didn’t, and the more he thought about it, the more the notion delighted him. Even if she was cross with him, it clearly didn’t interfere with her relationship with Baeden. Ultimately, that was what mattered.

“Papa, are you coming down for supper?”

Bae blinked up at him, and he nodded. “Yes, uh, I just need to speak to Belle first. We’ll - we’ll come down together, all right?”

The boy bounded off down the hall, and Gold watched with a faint smile before turning to the matter at hand. He hoped that after he said what he needed to say, that his reply to Bae would be the truth.

Belle was pacing back and forth from the sofa to the window when a knock sounded.

She paused and stared at the door, knowing Gold was on the other side. She had expected him to come to her earlier, which was why she went to find Bae after she’d calmed down. Facing him so soon after the confrontation in the study felt like too much, and she needed to think through what she might say. Walking the grounds with Bae and telling him about her home had been the perfect distraction, but when they rode out to the coast, with the snowing shining around them, it had hit her harder than expected.

The cliffs had always been a sanctuary for her, a place to retreat to when she needed to be away from the prying eyes of servants and her parents, and, later, a place to be alone with thoughts of her mother. She had always loved the ocean, the sound of the waves and the beauty of the sunset reflected across it, but it was the harshness that spoke to her the most. The water was so dark, especially in the evening or in the short days of winter, and there was no tangible horizon, no soft edges, only a vast and endless void. The ocean didn’t care about anyone.

Poets might romanticize it, but it was cruelest of all creations, holding a seething, incomprehensible mass of life in its depths, life that it seemed to actively try to extinguish sometimes. There was no mistress like the sea. She’d heard a naval officer say that once, with a tone that spoke of things which could not be described, of places she couldn’t even dream of seeing. It chilled her and soothed her all at once. There would always remain one thing in the world which men could not claim or tame, and she longed for that kind of freedom.

Sighing, she smoothed her hands over her skirt and walked to the door, holding her breath as she pulled it open.

“Belle.”

The way he said her name, with that soft sense of surprise, made her want to smile, but she tamped it down and pressed her lips together, acknowledging him with a sharp nod.

“Cameron.”

Gold winced at her cool tone. “May I come in?”

She stepped back and held the door open, motioning with her hand for him to enter. He moved stiffly, leaning on his cane more obviously than she’d ever seen, and she assumed that his antics with Milton had caused him some discomfort. She wanted to be pleased by that, but she wasn’t. Angry as she was, she still didn’t want him to suffer.

“Can we sit?” he asked, gesturing to the sofa.

She shrugged and came to stand at the opposite end. “You may.”

His shoulders dropped and he seemed to lean forward, bearing his weight on his cane in front of him. “I’ll stand if you are.”

She wanted to roll her eyes at his stubbornness, but she supposed she was no better at the moment. “Fine. Say what you came to say.”

“Belle, please -”

“Please what?” she snapped, her hands going to her hips. “Please excuse me whilst I lie and swindle your family home right out from under you?”

Her words were harsh, but he had resigned himself to deserving them. “That’s not what this is.”

She shook her head. “Well, then I must be stupid, because that’s what it looks like from where I stand.”

“You are far from stupid,” he said, sighing and twisting his cane against the floor.

“Is it done?” She crossed her arms, holding her elbows with her hands.

“Yes.”

His reply was quiet, and she swallowed. Her face felt hot and her head started to throb as she fought back her tears. That was it then. It was all done, without a word from her, without any discussion or explanation.

“I thought it was best to get things in order immediately,” he explained, “before Milton has a chance to tell the King whatever it is he’s going to tell him.”

Belle nodded. “I see.”

She watched as he shifted his weight and squeezed the handle of his cane. He was clearly hurting, and she hated herself for making him continue standing there just because of her own hurt pride. While there were things they hadn’t talked about yet, truths that were deeply held, he had given her no reason to distrust him or his intentions.

Gold huffed and turned away from her for a moment, gritting his teeth as the sharp pain crept back into his leg. “It’s not - I didn’t mean it the way you’re thinking.”

“Then tell me!” she exclaimed, letting out a heavy sigh a moment later and touched a hand to her forehead where a vague throb had started. “Be honest with me. Don’t - don’t tell me you’re going to save my family home, and then snatch it away.”

He frowned at her. “So you would rather I let the King do the same instead?”

“No! I - I don’t -” Belle exhaled and

He looked up, watching as she moved around the end of the sofa and then back against the tufted cushions. She reached out and patted the space beside her. “Please?”

He gave her a small, grateful smile, and barely suppressed a groan as he sat. His hand rubbed at his upper thigh, pressing into the muscle until the twitching and throbbing abated enough that he could ignore it.

“Are you in pain?”

Her hand covered his, and he nearly jerked away from her touch in surprise. “Only a little.”

The look she gave him conveyed her disbelief, but she didn’t press the issue, and for a long moment they stayed like that, near each other, with her hand on his. He didn’t turn his hand over to hold hers, though he wanted to he didn’t feel he had the right to, not now, not until they had sorted things between them, but her palm was warm and soothing. It was enough for now.

“You scared me,” she said finally, exhaling and pulling her hand back to her own lap. “I was already angry at Milton, and at my father, and when you said -” She took a breath, blowing it out between her lips as she shook her head again. “I’d never seen you like that before, so angry and - and violent.”

“I know,” he said softly, his gaze fixed on the moonstone ring on his left hand. “Please believe me that had he not said those - those things - about you -”

“Don’t,” Belle interrupted, twisting to look at him. “Not for my sake, never for my sake, not that. All right? I will not have that on my conscience.”

Gold nodded in understanding, though he couldn't promise that his reaction wouldn’t be the same should anyone else decide to harm her. He had very recently become aware that, where Belle was concerned, there were lengths he was willing to go to in order to protect her, and he wasn't entirely certain that it had only to do with her commitment to Bae.

She shifted closer and frowned. “He didn’t hurt me, all right? What he said -”

Her mouth felt dry as the words replayed in her head, the implications, the shame. It didn’t matter what she had or hadn’t done with her husband, which was nothing at all, but to have any of it made public and connected with what happened between her and Gaston was a step too far.

Gold swallowed. “Physically, perhaps not, but words can damage just as easily as my cane.”

He lifted the aforementioned object and let it drop, the end thudding softly on the rug by his boot. She knew what he meant, but it was still different in her mind. Her faults and secrets were her own, just as his were. Whatever Milton knew, or assumed, it wasn’t worth the effort or energy of beating him senseless, however much he might deserve punishment.

“What will do with it?” she asked, tentatively. “With my - with Avonlea.”

She kept wanting to call it her home, but that wasn’t true anymore.

“Give it to you.” He shrugged and gave her a quick, sideways glance. “If you want it.”

Belle blinked and leaned back a bit as she stared at him, trying to process what he’d just said. “Wha - how - um... to me? You’re giving to me?”

“Is that a yes?”

His mouth curved slightly, clearly amused by her confusion, and she frowned. “Why?”

“You don’t seriously believe I want it, right?” She looked immediately affronted at the question, and he sighed. “That’s - that’s not what I mean. I mean, I don’t - I don’t want to own it, I don’t want to take it away from your family.”

“Then why - why -” She shook her head, tilting it as she looked at him. “Why do this at all? Why have the papers signed already?”

“So the King wouldn’t beat me to it.” He gave her a small smile. “If he orchestrated any of this, used Milton to push your father into more debt... I didn’t want to risk it, and I knew the law was on my side. My claim would have the highest standing.”

He shrugged, and twisted the cane in his hands, sliding them back and forth and making it spin against his palms until Belle’s hand came to rest on the handle, making him stop.

“You think he would do that? Send Milton to - what? - to give my father ill financial advice?” She huffed, her lips pursing as she pulled her hand away from his cane. “That seems so - convoluted - so much effort for something that was bound to happen on its own.”

Gold’s eyebrows lifted. “You think?”

She matched his expression, and then let her gaze drift to the fireplace. “I love my father, but I know he’s not very good at running an estate, especially not one so large. My mother, she - she was the one who kept him straight, who knew how everything needed to be done. She understood how to estimate the crop yields, how the land leases were managed, all of it.”

The smile she gave him was sad, and he didn’t miss the way her lips wavered as she spoke.

“And she passed that knowledge on to you, didn’t she?” he asked, quietly.

Belle’s gaze met Gold’s. “Some of it, yes.”

He smiled fully then and reached for her hand. “Then it shall be yours.”

“You - you can do that?” She glanced down at his fingers as they curled over hers, holding them gently.

“Yes,” he replied simply, pleased when her hand turned over to hold his. In that moment he felt a sense of forgiveness, and the relief it brought was stronger than he’d expected, like an unwinding of something in the center of his chest.

She licked her lips and looked up at him. “How?”

“Your father has signed Avonlea over to me, so as of a half hour ago, I am the legal Lord of this estate.” He took a breath, her gaze inscrutable and making him shift in his seat. “As such, I have the legal right to name a Steward, which can be you if you like. And when I - when I die -”

He paused to clear his throat, pushing past the lump that had formed once he acknowledged what must inevitably happen for Belle to retain her family home. She squeezed his hand, and the look on her face was strangely stricken.

“When I die, I may bequeath these lands unto any of my heirs. Including my wife,” he continued. “But until then, you may help me make all the decisions where Avonlea is concerned.”

Gold returned the pressure on her hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles. She could scarcely believe his words. There were only two women who were positioned as the legal executives of their own estates, left to them by their late husbands, who had passed without children. Lady Ghorm, a severe and eccentric woman Belle couldn’t stand the sight of, and Countess De Vil, of whom there were untold rumors stories of the wild, unhinged parties she was fond of throwing every season.

She managed a nod. “You’d just - give it to me? Like that? You wouldn’t keep it for Bae?”

He nodded. “Bae won’t need it. He’ll have Thornhill and other assets, and I think - I know - he would want you to have it.”

Her chest rose and fell slowly as she took a steadying breath. She would have Avonlea, her mother’s wish would come true, and in the meantime he said she could be the Steward if she liked, and make all the decisions. She could run her own estate, even without it being fully hers, something she’d been trying to do for her father for years. It felt so overwhelming that even contemplating it was threatening to give her a throbbing headache.

She twisted on the cushion to face Gold, her lips pressed together as she tried to summon the right words to express what she was feeling. In the end she settled for something easier, and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

Gold sputtered and let out a soft cry of surprise as Belle practically leapt at him and gripped him in a fierce embrace. She was warm and soft, and her skirts were covering his lap as she shifted closer, pressing her knees to his thigh. He felt her fingers brush his hair where it lay over the back of his collar, sending a tingle down his spine, and breathed in the scent of her perfume. Her actions were so intimate and startling that by the time he made his own arms move enough to return it, she was already withdrawing.

She leaned back, keeping her hands on his shoulders which kept her face near his, and smiled widely. He looked utterly shocked, and she bit her lip as the realization of what she’d done sunk in. Abruptly, she pulled her hands away and she shifted back on the sofa, putting some space between them.

“Sorry, I -” She shook her head again.

“No, don’t be,” he said quickly, fighting the urge to close the short distance she’d reestablished between them. He was almost as surprised at how much he missed her proximity as he was at the embrace itself.

Belle wiped at her eyes which had begun to feel watery, and blew out a breath. “Sorry, um, we should - we should speak to my father, yes?”

Gold nodded. “Tomorrow, after breakfast, the three of us will review all the ledgers and papers. We’ll get a full accounting of everything, and we can decide where to go from there.”

“Good,” she replied, giving him another small smile. “Good.”

“Now,” said Gold, using his cane to push himself to his feet. “I promised Bae before I came here that I would apologize to you, and that we would join him for dinner. So to that end, I am very sorry for upsetting you, my Lady, and I most humbly beg your forgiveness.”

He offered her his arm and a cheeky grin, and she smiled as she stood, laying her hand over his forearm. “Apology accepted.”

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #belle x mr. gold #arranged marriage au #in all things #my rumbelle fic #fic

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