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fearlessdevil17 · 1 year ago

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What is your headcanon for Edge's relationship with each Crewmember of the Galaxy's mightiest heroes? In exchange, I will tell you mine!

See ya tomorrow!!! I need sleep, I am from a different timezone, in Europe...I will see you soon!!!

*Cracks Knuckles*

Thank you for giving me this question, i'm so happy to share this!!

sorry for the late response :(

could never figure out how to put it in words XP!!!

with that said

Let's get started:

Mario:

I think that Mario would - at first - be the least trusting of Edge, after all, when they first met, she just showed up out of nowhere, she refused to talk about her origin, and he had no idea what her motives were, so he mainly kept a close eye on her in order to catch her doing something suspicious.

Edge was aware of his suspicion during their first meeting, although she did come up with clever lies as to where she came from, it was clear that Mario didn't believe her.

Despite that, they did have respect for each other. With Mario, seeing how skilled of a fighter Edge was, all while helping out Sparks in the process, and Edge, seeing how responsible of a leader Mario was, as well as a kind hearted gentleman.

Eventually he would warm up to her after having a few lighthearted conversations with her, and seeing how much a big softie she was to the Sparks, finally lowering his guard around her, and accepting her as a friend.

It's no secret as to how protective Mario can get - don't let his outgoing and goofy personality fool you - this man will destroy you if you try to harm those he cares about.

While Luigi is his main priority when it comes to being a big brother, he's no stranger to being a brother figure towards his companions, especially when learning what they went through before meeting him. so when he found about Edge's backstory......OH BOY!! Big brother mode activated almost faster than Toads discriminating Luigi (RIP to those Toads btw)

Since Edge never had someone in her life she could to look up too, Mario being this sibling/parental figure towards her was all so new to her, so she didn't know how to properly react. but Mario made sure to take it slow and let it sink in for a bit.

Edge is one of the many few companions of Mario's that didn't go out in a blaze of glory, which Mario was thankful for, he couldn't bare the thought of losing another friend. so Cursa was defeated, Mario would take the time to help Edge with any lingering doubts that she might still have, making her more and more relaxed with her surroundings

Luigi:

knowing Luigi, he would defiantly be weary of Edge during the first meeting, but he doesn't like making assumptions of anyone, no matter how intimidating they looked, still he mostly kept his distance from her, observing her from afar (he's also canonically uncomfortable around swords, so yeah, there's that too)

despite that, he does try to be friendly with her, helping her out in some missions, and covering her during battles. this was when he started to notice that Edge was not as scary as she seemed. even seeing that the Sparks loved hanging around her.

While a huge softie for the Sparks, Edge also has a soft side for people who are shy or sensitive, so when she noticed Luigi's weariness of her, she reassured him that she understands why he acting this way, but is not someone that goes all willy nilly with a weapon in hand, making him comfortable enough to be around her.

Luigi was the second out of the group to quickly form a friendship with Edge (i'm still sticking with my Edge being made with some of Luigi's DNA theory, plus i do think they would get along pretty quickly, Luigi's never been the type to get on peoples bad side after all)

Edge also tends to be a bit protective over the said personality traits, one time, the crew saved a toad that basically chastised everyone (even Peach) for not saving him sooner (toad karen anyone), but just when Mario was about to defend Luigi when the toad went after him, Edge quickly spoke up first, much to Mario's delight.

after learning about her past, Luigi would notice that Edge would start to grow insecure about the scars that came with it, so he would try to make her feel better by sharing his stories of enemies he had to face on his own, even telling her about the times he's been possessed, leaving behind some nasty scars in the process. while he didn't like talking about it, it did help Edge open up a bit more, The two grew closer after that (ah yes, bonding over traumatic experiences, what fun)

After Cursa's defeat, Luigi would try to introduce Edge to his set of friends. like Polterpup, Daisy, Peasly, E gadd, etc.

their would even be a time where he would take her to Flipside to allow her to meet O'chunks, Mimi, and Nastsasia.

(i know that the paper mario series is obviously meant to be a paper universe, but in my head, it's not, all the games take place in the same universe, meaning yes, i don't see paper jam as canon, go ahead and fight me on that if you want)

thinking about all the people she had met, Edge would feel ready to make up with her old friends, asking Luigi if he could help, the two would try to come up with ways to contacted them and track them down. (to which, they do succeed)

Peach:

This one i think i love the most. Peach has already taken in a bunch of harmless Rabbids, now becoming a part of her kingdom and her people, the Rabbids adore her just as much as the toads, and has basically became a sort of mother figure towards them.

Edge has never met a royal before, so meeting Peach was actually a little nerve racking for her. but Peach treated her no differently compared to the Rabbids in her kingdom.

she was the first to see that Edge had a kind heart with a balanced goal to go with it. her protectiveness over the Sparks really warmed Peach's heart. plus, seeing Edge's swordsmen skills reminded Peach of her own combat skills. she and Edge would most likely exchange skill tricks with one another.

Edge is mostly formal with Peach, calling her by the royal names such as Princess or Your Highness. while Peach doesn't mind being called by the royal names, she prefers to be know as just Peach during adventures, it took Edge a while to call her by her name, but she still tends to be formal.

(the little glance they had with one another after landing in Barrendale mesa, that was so cute <3)

Peach would sometimes grimace at the scars Edge has - not in a disgusted way - but in a concerning way, wanting to know how she got them, who would do this and why. but of course, Edge refused to talk about it, still, that didn't mean that Peach had a tiny bit of built in rage towards the culprit.

Edge was not used to receiving concern from other's, so she wasn't able to properly react when Peach started to worry about her well being (she's had a lot of experience thanks to Mario's sheer stubbornness, she's can tell when someone is pushing themselves too hard),

there was one time where Peach had to drag Edge back to the airship to allow her to rest after she massacred a horde of extremely tough enemies on her own, making her exhausted (nearly collapsing).

but this exchange made Peach realize that Edge was not okay with being touched after she tried to give her a helping hand, Edge pulled away immediately when she felt Peach's hand touch her arm. while she did allow Peach to take her back to the ship, this confirmed to her that Edge went through something horrific.

Edge has never experience the help of other's that weren't sparks, so it took a lot of conceiving from Peach to let her to clean her wounds for her rather than doing it herself, like she always has. it upset Peach, knowing that Edge must have been pretty lonely.

when she finally got her answer as to what happened to Edge in the past, Peach became even more protective of the little Rabbid, like a mother would to her child, vowing herself to show make sure Edge would feel safe, loved, and protected in her kingdom

after Cursa's defeat, Peach allowed Edge to stay in the castle for the time being, offering her a guest room within it, being the one that showed Edge all of the Mushroom Kingdom, even showing her the pipes that lead to the other kingdoms.

to Peach's delight, the Toads and other Rabbids greeted Edge with open arms, treating her fairly, and making her feel welcome. tho Edge didn't know what to think of it, but Peach knows that she's going to be just fine in her new home

Bowser:

This one is interesting because while Bowser is also a royal too, Edge had no interest in greeting him formally, mainly because of the history he has with the group she's traveling with.

ever since Bowser joined the group, Edge heard bit's and pieces about the Koopa King from the others, making her want nothing to do with him, still if Bowser and the other's were willing to work together, she to will also have to oblige - no point in trying to avoid him - much to her dismay, and i doubt Bowser is pretty happy about it too.

i think during their first meeting, Bowser would take interest in Edge since she's one of those "unique" Rabbids, but would be cautious around her. when they made eye contact for the first time, it was a stone cold death stare, telling one another that they can't be trusted

(Bowser would defiantly chastise Mario for taking in a Rabbid that they knew nothing about, due to his encounter with Bedrock)

Bowser has always been "a bit" rude when he talks to people, and Edge was no acceptation, he made small talk with her once, wanting to know more about her and her backstory, but the way he spoke made it sound like he was threatening her.

But Edge was unfazed by his way of speaking, and instead played the same card as he did, completely changing the subject in no time flat. normally Bowser would blow up in said person's face for talking back him, but not Edge, she actually left him speechless (and also a bit impressed). since then, everyone had to keep an eye on those two, can't have them starting a fight against each other after all.

no enemy stands a chance when these two are on a team (that duo sidequest with them in the DLC was so much fun btw), it's horrendous. but seeing their skills in action is when the two started to have respect for one another. Bowser's opinions on Edge completely changed. Someone who is an amazing fighter and is not afraid to stand up for herself, and can be intimidating, now that's someone that would be perfect for Bowser's army.

yep, he did tell her that, and just like before, Edge was not interested and refused, with Bowser simply saying "well, just think about" (news flash: she didn't)

but Edge did respect Bowser due to his immense strength, plus he wasn't as bad as Cursa, but she still wanted nothing to do with him (guess you could say that these two are frenemies in a way)

i'm thinking of a scenario where when Beep-O confronted Edge about knowing Midnite and Bedrock, and Edge telling him to let it go, Bowser would get up all in her face and try to forcefully make Edge admit the truth, pushing her buttons and all, even asking if she's scared about what's going to happen if she told, the others had to quickly break it up before things got messy.

when finally learning the truth, even Bowser was disgusted by Cursa's actions. yes, he is a villain with a lust for power, wanting to conquer the world, marry Princess Peach, and destroy his enemies, but he's not that heartless.

Edge is technically a child of Cursa's, being born from her Darkmess. Bowser - who is a father himself - would never even think about harming his children, nor would put them in any danger. so upon hearing that Cursa would do such a thing to her "daughter", gave Bowser another reason to pummel Cursa to the ground. (yes he did tell Edge that he would, which she appreciated)

when the journey was over, and Bowser wanting to head home, he would give Edge a handshake farewell, but told her that this won't be the last time they see each other, and Edge responds with a toothy grin and a snarky "that's a shame"

Rabbid Mario:

oh RM, you poor hopeless romantic, you can't make a lesbian fall in love with you XP.

i think most of the Rabbid counterparts would practically being all over Edge, asking her question's, complimenting her appearance, etc. for RM, it's mostly trying to get her attention.

during their first meeting, he was a little nervous speaking to her, so he kinda made a fool of himself, but that's not going to stop him from trying. sadly most of those times, he's been accidentally making Edge feel uncomfortable, so he backed off it for a while, but if he sees another opportunity, he's gonna take it.

while annoyed by his charming nature, Edge can tell that he has no ill intent what so ever, plus she's seen that he has a heart of gold, and cares deeply for the others, even sharing a close brotherly bond with RL, so she's been able to tolerate him.

what Edge can rely on tho was RM's willpower, he's been seen time and time again on how he can disintegrate a bunch of enemies with just a few punches, and that's somethings he's proud of, and tries to show off to Edge whenever he can (tho she didn't care about the showing off part). fights have been mostly easy whenever these two team up.

RM and Edge are absolute powerhouses, when it comes to battles, with there strength's combined, their able to move/lift heavy objects, and can destroy herds within seconds. this is how these two have basically been bonding, tho it's not in the way RM sees, they've just been becoming good friends (poor guy getting friend zoned)

when not focused on his crush, RM would give Edge tips on how to be safer when in a battle, he's seen how she can sometimes become reckless with either herself or trying to protect someone, which resorted to her getting hurt after. while some were luckily minor, RM hates seeing his friends get hurt, so he tires to do what he can to insure everyone's safety.

when he learned about her past, he realizes why she tends to be reckless and can see that it stresses her out sometimes. so he assures her that if she ever needed someone to lean on when feeling that way, he's her man. but he didn't say it as a way for Edge to be closer to him, it was a genuine offer (he's done it before with the others). he wasn't the best motivator, but he's a good listener, and will do what he could to provide comfort.

over time he got over his crush on Edge after the adventure, but still haas been spending most of his days hanging out with her along with the other Rabbids. (sometimes even fantasying his next future crush, one day he'll find love)

Rabbid Luigi:

now this a unique one, because i think out of everyone, RL was the one who Edge got along with the best. in fact, he was the first to form a friendship with her.

RL was the only one out of the group that was never intimidated by Edge, even being the first to approach her without hesitation, he admired her a lot, telling her how cool she looked, and that she was awesome on the battlefield and all that.

Edge would be flabbergasted at the compliment's, not knowing what to say at first, so turned the tide instead, saying that she admires his enthusiasm. RL couldn't contain his excitement after that.

despite RL's loud, hyperactive personality, Edge surprisingly doesn't mind it one bit. she was completely okay with listening to him talk about such wild and wacky things no matter how long it was. the others were even impressed by how well she can handle him.

RL doesn't really care about where Edge came from, he's just mostly excited that she's going to be part of the group from now on. RL would mostly spend his time with Edge, asking her a lot of questions that weren't really personal, so Edge was able to answer them easily.

he also love's to play with the Sparks, so when he sees that the Sparks mostly hang around Edge, he sometimes tries to let her in on the fun too, but Edge prefers to just watch.

RL is basically the cheerleader of the group, there was once a time where the group's path was blocked by a huge enemy, and Edge volunteered to take it out herself. while the others were concerned for her safety, RL knew she could take it, and started cheering her on, making Edge all more determined. needless to say, the battle ended faster then expected.

over time, Edge started to grow protective of RL, making sure that he's kept out of harms way. she knew he was able to take care of himself, but sometimes he tends to be a bit cocky, and not understand how dangerous the situation is. trouble seems to find him a lot

one time, RL got too cocky, thinking that the opponent he was fighting would be a breeze, but learned the hard way that it wasn't. Edge manage to take the hit for him. while she barely got hurt, RL felt bad for getting her involved in the mess he accidentally caused, but Edge assured him that it wasn't a big deal, and that to think of it as a learning experience to help him improve. since then, he's been trying to be more careful on the battlefield.

when finding out about her past, RL also started to become protective of her, even noticing that Edge easily stresses out when thinking about it, he tries to help calm her down, teaching her breathing exercises, or handing her a cup of water, sometimes even cracking a few jokes to try to get a chuckle out of her, sometimes it works sometimes it doesn't.

i like to think after the journey, RL would help Edge overcome her insecurities of the new environment she now resides in by carefully exposing it to her little by little. probably as a way to repay her for looking out for him. now he's gonna do the same for her, and it worked out great

Rabbid Peach:

two girl bosses?! polar opposites?! what could go wrong?

so during their first meeting, RP - at first - want nothing to do with Edge, purposely avoiding her out of jealously. she thought her appearance looked so cool looking, that people as well as her followers would start paying more attention to Edge rather than her.

whenever they did speak, RP would act cold towards Edge, completely shutting her down with every opportunity. all while Edge was really confused as to why RP so cold to her.

it never bothered her anyway, besides Edge was no pushover, she sometimes argues back with RP, making impressive comebacks until she had RP backed in a corner, forcing her to abandon the argument.

unlike Bowser, these two have tons of restraint, they have never physically fought against one another as they knew it would be useless to waste their energy on teammates.

it wouldn't be till a time where Edge saved RP from an on slot of attacks, is when she started to see Edge in another light. even tho all she did was just making sure that her teammate were okay. RP did thank her for saving her life as she healed the cuts and scrapes Edge received. now kinda regretting a little for acting so mean to her

since then, her attitude towards Edge started to change. she no longer acted cold towards her, and instead relied heavily on small talk, even telling Edge the truth on why she acted mean in the first place. they both simply laughed it off and agreed that it was pretty stupid, and thus, a friendship born (maybe even something more ;)

being a sociable Rabbid (mainly on the media), RP tries to get Edge to be a bit more outgoing, doing what she can to get her to come out of her shell. even trying to get her to take selfies with her (not caring about what people think anymore when she posts them on Instagram)

how ironic that she was once jealous, thinking that Edge will take the attention away from her, but now here she is, giving Edge all the attention. tho Edge doesn't know what to think of it, in fact, she's kinda a bit embarrassed by it. she was never an attention seeker after all.

RP was aware that Edge was never fond with touch, but when learning about her past, she was immediate to provide support for her, and even giving her surprise hugs that Edge has no chance of avoiding, RP has an iron grip (who knows when she will ever let go), all to try and keep a smile on Edge's face

After Cursa's defeat, RP would somtimes take both Edge and RR on a girls day, taking them to her favourite clothes shops, coffee shops, sometimes hang in the castle with Peach, etc. Edge and RR would mostly be exhausted by the end of the day. but RP and Peach has it covered when the time to relax has arrived, providing comfy blankets for a nice chill night

Rabbid Rosalina:

oh these two would get along just fine. Out of everyone, their by far the calmest ones in the group.

when she joined the group, she didn't like how loud the other Rabbids were (it interrupts her reading time), so she would mostly spend time by herself, but being more observant then the others, she noticed that Edge mostly likes to spend her time alone was well, she figured that she would be a good start to get use to the area she now resides in.

seeing how Edge was not loud and rowdy, it made RR feel comfortable enough too sit beside her and read her book in peace. this was also a nice change for Edge too. while she didn't mind how noisy it can get, she enjoys to have some peace and quiet every now and then. the two quickly became friends when learning about their fair share of quietness (even if it lasts about a few minutes)

(their relationship is a bit hard for me to explain, but lets just say that it's the equivalent of two introverted friends hanging out)

RR loves to speak about her interests, so when Edge asked about what type of books she was into, she talked for god knows how long, it's still a mystery to this day as to how Edge didn't fall asleep during all that.

sometimes RR would ask Eithering to turn her and Edge invisible if any of their Rabbid friends try to bother them during their time of peace.

Edge actually allows RR to lean on her whenever she feels like taking a nap, when it happened the first time, Edge tried to push her off, thinking she was doing it on purpose. but after a few moments, she realized that that RR fell to a deep sleep. not knowing what else to do, she stopped resisting and just let her sleep where she is. since then, she no longer minded if RR fell asleep on her randomly.

RR was the only one that already knew that Edge was an ex-Spark hunter during her time with Midnite, she recalled Midnite saying something about someone leaving her behind so she can go fulfill a pointless goal. she quickly put two and two together when seeing Edge sparing Midnite after her defeat.

she never told the rest of the group because she believed Edge should be the one to tell them, for she was certain that they will understand. how proud she was when Edge finally revealed her past and the crew still accepting of her.

after Cursa's defeat, RR would sometimes read about the many beautiful places around the Mushroom Kingdom, sometimes she would bring Edge to those places where they can just chill away from society for a moment, and the sceneries they go to are just as gorgeous as they are in pictures.

as a bonus, let's add Rosalina in the mix too :)

Rosalina:

because of her merge with Cursa, Rosalina has a type of connection with Edge in a way. To Cursa, the Spark Hunters were just mere killing machines meant to serve her. but to Rosalina, they were newborn children that were being raised by the wrong person.

with Rosalina being unable to protect the Lumas and Sparks from Cursa, she decided to put her faith in the Spark Hunters until Mario arrives, sending out distress calls towards the the leader, hoping that if she could somehow communicate with her, then Edge could be able to convince the others to fight against their creator.

(remember Edge saying that Cursa gave her an edge of just enough free will to think? i like to think that edge was Rosalina)

it broke her heart seeing how the second part of the plan didn't work, and Edge was on her own, she had believed that the worse has happened to her. but felt a wave of relief when seeing that Edge was still alive, and managed to find her way to Mario and his friends

when Rosalina was freed, she apologized to Edge for putting a burden on her shoulders, wishing that what happened didn't play out the way it did, but Edge assured her that it was her choice to rebel against Cursa and how it was the best decision she ever made.

seeing how the Sparks enjoyed being around Edge, Rosalina made her the "Steward of Sparks", and will forever be grateful to her for protecting her star children.

needless to say, Edge found herself one interesting family :)

Sorry this took a while and that my descriptions are all over the place, it could have been done quicker if i wrote more on my phone, but my phone tends to post drafts that aren't finished yet, even tho i click save as draft, i didn't want to risk losing the question. but i had fun talking about this none the less, hope you enjoyed them :)

#super mario bros #mario + rabbids sparks of hope #mario + rabbids #mario rabbids #mario rabbids sparks of hope #rabbids #super mario

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placegrenette · 1 year ago

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Every Ninety One Song Reviewed: “Biz,” 2023

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“Bız,” released ahead of the album Gap, 2023 Music credits: Dulat Mukhametkaliev (ZaQ), Daniyar Kulumshin (Bala) Lyrics credits: Dulat Mukhametkaliev (ZaQ) Music video director: Askhat Bayanov

(Brief pedantic editor’s note: the song’s title is not “Biz,” as I originally wrote it, but “Bız," since the new Kazakh Latin alphabet uses the dotless I. If you speak American English, it sounds like the middle I in “bit,” so you were probably pronouncing it correctly even though I technically wasn’t spelling it correctly. If there’s a way to update the Unicode in the post title I don’t know it.)

At last we have the slightly-delayed pre-release single to the long-delayed album. It will make no difference in the long run, but for posterity’s sake, Ninety One originally said the music video would come out the 25th (the song was already available on streaming platforms by the time of the announcement), then changed that to the 26th, then had to make a sheepish Telegram post saying well actually the 27th, and finally released the darn thing after 11 pm Almaty time on the 27th. They’re not doing fantastic with meeting deadlines they set themselves, of late. But it’s a minor series of flaws, really; growing pains. I hope someday we get a little bit more of a glimpse into what it takes to take an enterprise like this running.

On to “Bız,” which has arguably the same relation to Gap as “Su Asty” did to Qarangy Zharyq and “Men Emes” did to its namesake EP, and those are big shoes to fill. “Bız” has less going on, both musically and lyrically, than either of those two. It’s a fun little hype track, especially when ZaQ decides to experiment with a goofier flow: “How you forgot about ME? Мығда NineTY? O-N-E?” But it’s not as lyrically ambitious; it’s basically a platform for the guys to talk about how awesome they are in the face of, once again, Vaguely Defined Adversity. The closest we get to anything substantial is ZaQ’s “My style is not accepted by your generation,” which is weak sauce when you consider what he brought to the table in “Men Emes.”

The other slightly worrying issue with “Bız” is how much it feels like Zaqira and the Three Singers. That may partly be due to circumstance: I’ll go ahead and speculate that Alem’s TV commitments meant he wasn’t available for much of the MV filming (which is why there are about three solo shots of him total) and Ace has been trying to slay the logistical hydra of the album release and tour setup (which may help explain why he looks so tense and preoccupied during his verse, especially in contrast to Bala’s looser performance). And ZaQ’s brain as Ninety One’s principal philosophical engine is not new. But they have been riding hard on We Are a Bonded Foursome for a year now; if they let ZaQ get out too far ahead without some obvious attempts at balance they risk doing some harm to that brand they’re so carefully cultivating.

Fortunately this is a pre-release, not a title track. I think they played the MV just right, for what it’s worth. Although Askhat Bayanov is still at the helm (and Nurs Bazarbay is director of photography, and Nurila Shakirova is producer and first assistant director, and Adil Kazkenov has a backstage credit -- anon, I still owe you that staff overview, as practically everyone I would mention worked on this video), we don’t have any callbacks to the symbolism-filled promo videos. It’s Ninety One in space, dancing and looking hot. They’ve actually never done a dance-performance-focused video before; it makes sense to do it now, as a calling card, before we get to the meatier (hopefully) content of the album.

How’s the Hair/Styling? Good! Bala’s undercut suits him, and in truth Zhadra has been doing especially well by her husband of late. Shame we couldn’t get a lingering shot of Ace in the tiara, though. Should You Start Here? I think I’m going to prefer “Gap” as an introduction -- we’ll see -- but as Boastful OT4 goes, this may outrank “Bata.”

#ninety one #every ninety one song reviewed #music from kazakhstan #come find me eaglez

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deuterosapiens · 1 year ago

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So I started reading Chuck Palahniuk's novel Fight Club on something of a whim. Yes it was a book before a movie. Yes, I stopped Under the Whispering Door to read it (which I will pick back up now that Fight Club is over; it will not languish on the shelf of unfinished books like so, so many other things).

Like many a person, I've seen the film a fair number of times. It's one of those highly quotable films that makes up about thirteen percent of all film references that aren't Mean Girls (quick aside: how well do these two films specifically compare? There's probably some interesting parallels for another time, though that's not important). Unlike many a person, my first experience with Chuck Palahniuk's writing was the short-story "Guts," which is fairly unpleasant for the squeamish, rather than this. It felt like the logical place to start with his novelist work. I've got Choke ordered as a potential follow-up (Sam Rockwell makes all movies better).

All the discourse and discussion of what it's really about has all been had and I'm afraid I can't really add anything interesting to the discussion. Is it social satire? Is it a critique of toxic masculinity, anarchy, the destruction of the hetero-male image? What's it stand for, what's it believe in? What ideas does it promote?

The reading I found the most interesting here, which is the one I found the most relatable or relevant to me, given my own personal drama, however, was that it's a perfectly good critique of toxic escapism. I'm fairly certainly this was not exactly what Palahniuk had in mind when it was written.

Consider this: a person becomes bored with their life and runs off with a fantastic stranger to a new world. No one on earth would bat an eye to that description applying to basically every piece of escapist fiction ever written. And yet, if you boil it down to the essential elements, removing the fat, this is an adequate description of the events of Fight Club's first act.

The fantasy becomes worse and it takes a destructive toll. What was initially a medicine has become an addiction, and, like all addictions, eventually the fantasy isn't enough. Fight club is no longer enough and so Tyler kickstarts Project Mayhem. I consider this an important point as the novel makes it extraordinarily clear that Tyler Durden isn't starting Project Mayhem for social reform, but because his friend, the unnamed Narrator (I think the sequel calls him Sebastian, but I obviously haven't read Fight Club 2 yet; yes there's a sequel; it's a graphic novel as opposed to the original which is a novel that's quite graphic, but not a graphic novel; where was I again?), is no longer having his escapist needs met through the fights.

Project Mayhem grows out of control and the Narrator realizes, too late, none of this is okay. It's then that he realizes the tomato in the mirror, that Tyler is a dissociative self created to cope with just being actually bored as hell of living. Okay, technically he created Tyler because he was interested in Marla Singer (sort of, the part of him that was interested in her became Tyler, it's a bit murky, the details, but that's not strictly important).

So, in-universe, everything that happens is the literal exact result of an actual fantasy going too far.

What I find best about this reading though is how it plays with the ending. A brief note: the film ending, with the explosions set to the Pixies' "Where is my Mind?," doesn't happen; instead the explosives fail, and the Narrator is left recovering in a hospital after having shot his face-out (where Project Mayhem members await eagerly his recovery and the recovery of the Tyler Durden persona).

You have someone who has ran away to some other world as a means of escaping their own problems, who learns that this fantasy is causing them more harm than good, who then takes action to recover themselves and return to the real world. Still, there will always be that possible thread, the lingering will, desire, to leave reality behind again and succumb to the fantasy.

I think a lot of us, who used books or games or movies or what have you to ignore our day-to-day routine problems, can relate to that. To finally wanting to confront the problem you've avoided head-on, and feeling that tug, a little pull in your mind, something drawing you back to the distraction. The easy-way, always available if you want it.

Perhaps I did have something to say about Fight Club the novel after all. I know I broke the rules (the first rule of fight club: you do not talk about fight club; the second rule of fight club: you do not talk about fight club), but perhaps that's the point. The delusion by itself is no fun; madness spread to others (folie à deux) is a riot.

Perhaps that's why we need a Marla, a tether to ground us (even if painfully), when the fantasy can no longer be differentiated from reality.

#fight club #fight club the book #chuck palahniuk #escapism #book review #where is my mind #also #if you are reading the tags #you have lost The Game #reading #rambling #long post #longing for fictionland #toxic escapism

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fandomandangstlover · 2 years ago

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(Efficiency)

○●○

"So, when were you made?"

The little Coding looks up at SMG4 from its spot on his lap. It thinks, eyes narrowing.

Maybe 10 minutes after the original coding was deactivated? it answers, voice soft. The USBs made me.

"THE USBS?!" everyone seems shocked.

"THE-A USBS CAN MAKE-A NEW CODE?!" Mario screeches.

The little cat-like code nods. Yes. I don't know much but.. apparently the original coding.. was too strict.

"Too strict is an understatment," Saiko huffs, though she goes quiet at a soft glare from Tari.

SMG4 holds up a grape to the little Coding. It pauses before looking up at him and then back at the grape. Was it.. meant to eat it? It wouldn't do it any harm, right?

It leaned forward and gently grabbed the grape with its mouth. It rolled it about before swallowing.

It shot up to its paws and began to prance around SMG4's lap. It let out loud "mrrps!!" as it did so.

"Haha!" SMG4 laughed. "I guess you liked that, huh?"

The little Coding nodded, continuing to prance around his lap. Eventually, it calmed down and settled once more, but the happiness lingered. It was purring now and it's cloud-like appearance was now overtaken by the pastel blue and white.

"I guess it likes grapes," SMG3 muses.

"How long have you been watching us?" Meggy asks, bringing them back on track.

The little Coding thinks, wracking its memory banks for a complete answer. After I repaired the SMGs codes, I came to check. But after that I.. sorta kinda got attached.

"But you didn't approach us because of what happened with the original coding," Meggy finishes for it.

It nods. Yes. It would be a bad idea for me to reveal myself so soon.

SMG4 strokes it's back. "I'm pretty glad you waited, little buddy. I don't think 3 and I would've been the kindest to you if we saw you immediately after."

The little Coding purrs. It was glad it waited as well.

"SMG4, do you think it could stay with us?" Tari asks, clasping her hands together. "I think it'll be nice to have it around!"

The cat-like code looks up at SMG4. Ready to say that it's okay that it can't stay and that it understands. Understands that they're still not fully comfortable with it.

"Sure! It'll be nice, having a roommate other than Mario." he smiles.

"Hey!" Mario glares at him. "Mario is a great roommate!"

The little Coding looks up at him, surprised. He's letting it sleep in the same room as him?

It can't help but press up against him and rub their head against his chin in appreciation. Thank you! I promise, I'll be really good!

SMG4 nods and pats its head, chuckling as it purrs. "I know you will, little buddy. You've already proven it with how open you are."

OUGH. PRECIOUS.

everyone being flabbergasted at the USBs being able to make codes is so funny. like guys. fellas. those mfs downloaded memes into the U n iv ers e-

okay for the grape thing ah'm just imagining Lil Coding putting the ourple food into its mouth, shake it around like a small ball in a box (you can kinda see it bounce around), before eating it normally. i donno i thought it would be funny ahgshv

friendship!!

#my thoughts #factory reset in progress #fluffy...!!!!!#fanfiction

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earth2068 · 1 year ago

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hey so if i'm remembering correctly you said once on the discord that e2068 was originally a homestuck fansession idea- if you don't mind what were the characters' classpects and were they derse or prospit dreamers before this became... not a homestuck?

ok before i answer this question im gonna need everyone to abandon any concept of cringe culture still lingering in their hearts. find the part of you that says "homestuck is cringe" and just turn it off for the next 10 minutes. done? alright.

so yeah as ive admitted before on discord, the cast of earth 2068 originated from a homestuck fansession* i developed when i was a kid, first when i was 9 then reworked when i was 12. im specifying my age at the time so you understand how deep-rooted this is.

*a fansession is when you write a story in which ur ocs play the game that the plot of homestuck revolves around. its pretty fun! you develop the kind of planet theyd have, their classpects, etc, good character building exercise imo

the pre-scratch** session was composed of the 5 ARACHNID members, flynn, vermillion, violet, lucille and viridian (screw homestuck naming conventions theyre stupid), with the post-scratch** session having leon, phil, jordan, and two characters who would eventually be combined with each other when i wasnt looking to become daniya.

**dont ask what a scratch is, it basically means everyones parents get to be teenagers and play the game in a different timeline.

every session ive seen written has an even number of players, so theyd be evenly divided between derse and prospit***. i, however, had five players in each session, so either one kingdom would have more players than the other, or i had to contrive some alternative. i ended up developing a third moon kingdom for the odd player out called vidium that was teal and kinda depressing. i BROKE homestuck rules for my Original Moon Kingdom Do Not Steal.

***depending on a characters personality they would wake up on one of two magical moon kingdoms when they go to sleep, either the purple and spooky derse, or the gold and fun prospit

i actually, on occasion, write an earth 2068 au in a series of google docs in which the characters get to play the session i planned for them all those years ago, which is entirely self-indulgent and only something i work on when im tremendously bored. i dont think ill be sharing it but if i do it will only be when people stop making fun of me for liking a webcomic when i was 9 years old

and now, what youve all been waiting for, the classpects of each character- under the cut bc Long

preface: these have changed a lot since i was 9. ill be giving the current classpects ive assigned them, the same ones i use for the session i write currently when im bored. ill let you know which ones have stayed the same.

ALSO- no one who analyzes classpects agrees what each class means, because very few of them were confirmed in canon! these are all dependent on my personal interpretations, which i believe are backed by canon, but people will disagree with me on a few of these and thats ok. just please shut up about it.

FLYNN - rogue of time; prospit dreamer ("but time players are always on derse-" shut up! <3). time is the aspect of, you know, time, as well as other things, mainly death, destruction and entropy. a rogue is a passive(+) class- one who steals their aspect or steals WITH their aspect, strictly for the benefit of others. so flynn is one who steals time, or steals with time. in the very first chapter, flynn steals exotic matter, a substance specifically used for the purpose of time travel, and gives it to vermillion, the one who needs it. his role in the "operation" hinges on being able to sway the timeline to save ten billion lives- stealing time (death/destruction) with time (time travel). and on a fundamental level, flynn is a person who will always, no matter what, protect the people who need protecting from those who would harm them.

VERMILLION - mage of mind; derse dreamer. mind is the aspect of decisions and their consequences; the general concept of causality. a mage is an active(-) class, one who is gifted/inflicted with knowledge of their aspect, and due to the type of person they are, keeps that knowledge to themselves, to carry that burden so no one else has to. so a mage of mind is someone with a great understanding of causality- being the one plotting an operation to save the world via time travel requires the ability to predict the decisions other people will make, and the consequences theyll have, and this is a skill we see vermillion utilize a lot in the story (mostly in parts we havent gotten to). theyre the one who comes up with the plan, who decides what everyone else will be doing, and how that will help them, without needing to explain themselves. theyre a leader, but a difficult one, who doesnt intend on seeking feedback. verms main problem is how their emotions and insecurity in their sense of self cloud their judgement, and with heart being the aspect of emotion and the self and the antithesis to the mind aspect, it makes sense that a mind players biggest problem would be their heart.

LEON - knight of hope; prospit dreamer. hope is the aspect of positive emotion, as well as optimism and belief. in the right hands, its one of the strongest aspects. a knight is an active(-) class, one who equips themselves with their aspect in order to weaponize it. on two separate occasions, weve seen leon experience extreme anxiety or anger before immediately covering it up to appease phil; he throws up a mask to protect himself and the people he loves. this is weaponizing hope, equipping himself with his ability to see the best in a situation, and put on a happy face to keep things stable. hes a theatre major, and puts those acting skills to use whenever he can. its easy to see this as an unhealthy classpect, and it sort of is, but its real strength comes from how leon is at his most powerful, most influential, when hes guided by his love for other people, and his belief in his own ability. this is one of the few classpects that has stayed the same since leons creation!

PHIL - thief of heart; derse dreamer. as i mentioned earlier, heart is the aspect of emotions and the self. meanwhile, a thief is the active(-) counterpart to the rogue, so while the rogue steals for the sake of others, the thief steals for the sake of themselves. in multiple ways, phil steals facets of other peoples identities and emotions for himself- he steals data from peoples devices, he forces leon to kiss him (stealing leons autonomy, not allowing him to express his feelings on the matter beforehand, to enforce his own desires and emotions), he creates a dynamic with leon where he cant express what hes truly wanting or feeling, he [CHAPTER 4 SPOILERS], [CHAPTER 6 SPOILERS], etc. phils emotions and identity are such powerful forces that those of others get trampled over, stolen for himself. this doesnt make him ontologically evil, its possible that he could use this for good, if only he could just point his black hole of a personality in the right direction, and learn to turn down his ego most of the time.

JORDAN - heir of space; vidium dreamer (odd player out). space is the antithesis to time. its the aspect of, you know, space, the physical universe and its spacial dimensions, but also of creation. the heir is passive(+), and a bit of a complicated class, that boils down to inviting change in their aspect, or inviting change THROUGH their aspect. as an heir of space, jordan invites change in or through creation. theyre a creator, a roboticist, but also a collaborator with phil, so her influence isnt as direct. they thrive in a guiding position, where she doesnt have unilateral control, but has power in their ideas and words. jordan is a very good leader in a creative setting who has yet to realize this about herself.

LUCILLE - witch of light; prospit dreamer ("lucille cant be a light player she doesnt talk a lot-" shut up! <3). lucilles classpect manifests mostly in her position as the "girl in the chair." shes a witch, the active(-) counterpart to the heir, which has the ability to directly change their aspect, or bring change through it. light is the aspect of knowledge/information, fortune, and "the spotlight," and in her position in the team, lucille manages the information passed between the team, and can change who knows what with a single click. her classpect makes her someone who changes light, or brings change through it. for example, she turned fortune in the chapter 2 pleapods fight in flynns favor by imparting Gun Knowledge onto him. shes a person who helps mainly by knowing who needs to have what information. also, this is the second of the classpects that have stayed the same!

VIOLET - maid of blood; derse dreamer. blood is the aspect of bonds, friendships, ties, etc. a maid is an active(-) class, which focuses on creating and maintaining their aspect ("thats not what i think a maid is-" shuuuuut uuuuuuuup! <3). so a maid of blood is someone who creates and maintains bonds between people. this is pretty spot on for violet! we see more of this with her character later, but within the group, she has the most emotional intelligence, and is very good at resolving tension within the group and dealing with interpersonal issues. and between her and viridian, who do you think was responsible for befriending vermillion, thus creating the friend group? violet is the glue that keeps the team together.

VIRIDIAN - page of void; vidium dreamer (odd player out). void is the most fascinating aspect to me- its the antithesis to light, and is the aspect of nothingness, of secrets, uncertainty, the unknown, and irrelevance. also pumpkins. and pages are the passive(+) counterpart to the knight, so the knight equips themselves with their aspect to weaponize it, and the page equips others with their aspect. pages are by far the weakest class initially, but after a long journey of self-discovery, can unlock the greatest potential within themselves, surpassing every other class in sheer power. viridian is a confusing person that few can truly understand. he knows who he is, and is very sure of himself, but others, not so much. he has this way of barely reacting to anything that makes everything around him seem insignificant. he even specializes in quantum mechanics, a field of science literally built around not being able to know things. his greatest strength is this bubble of void surrounding him, but never swallowing him. he equips everything around him with void, but barely ever has it himself

#tw homestuck #asks #earth 2068 #behind the scenes #flynn valakos #leon valakos #vermillion gacutan #phil gacutan #jordan phuong #lucille larsen #violet sparks #viridian kim

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chen-chen-chen-again-chen · 2 years ago

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More blood for the blood god snippets for the WIP Game! @dohrnaira asked about my Witch Hunter Robin WIP, "Shut up about babies" (title from Hark, a vagrant 259: Great Gatsbys).

The first line

The Adams arrived on the night of Epiphany, when the snow was deep and silent around the chateau.

Summary

Future Robin and Amon getting together. As the Eve of Witches, Robin needs to make witch babies, and she only wants to do that with Amon. Amon does not want to make witch babies, so Robin and Nagira hatch a plan and interview three "Adams" who may be up to the task. Eventual Robin/Amon boning!

Inspired by

The Disappearing Life by tripping fruit on - WAIT FOR IT - FANFICTION.NET, a post-series fic of Robin and Amon on the run, that lingers in my heart forever (it's a WIP)

Fledgling by Octavia Butler - a super uncomfortable and compelling vampire novel. It's the only vampire book I've read that tackles race (if anyone knows of any others, let me know!)

Luminosity by Alicorn - a rationalist Twilight fic that does super neat things with vampire society that I've never seen in a story before

(No vampires in this fic, LOL, but the vampire stuff in those fics definitely influenced my take on witch culture and witch families in the WHR universe).

My ramblings

I did actually write a first draft, but Scrivener has been real fucky, so! Those words might be lost to the wind, as a tribute to the Muses.

I have complicated feelings about this story, which is why it's lingered in my drafts folder. I wanted to write about Robin and Amon where they are older, where Robin has come into her own as the Eve of Witches, the balance of power has shifted between them, and she's very clear about her agency, her sexuality, and what she wants.

But then, after I drafted the story, I:

listened to all of Lolita Podcast by Jamie Loftuss

Reread Lolita

Listened to all of Lolita Podcast again

Read My Dark Vanessa by Kate Elizabeth Russell (which I... I don't even know whether to recommend this book or not. again, very complicated feelings around it)

And all of those things kind of fundamentally shifted how I think about romance narratives with a significant age gap (which is, to be clear, not what Lolita is. Lolita is a whole other beast). I'm not quite sure if I could tackle this story again in a way that would feel good to me, that would convince me a story like this isn't doing harm, even unintentionally.

There's a lot about the story that I like. I liked writing the original characters, the Adams, who are all meant to be foils to Amon in some way, and I liked writing jealous!Amon (I really enjoyed torturing him for being such a dick, LOL). I liked writing Robin and Nagira's friendship - the dynamic of Robin and Nagira and Amon is definitely inspired by "The Disappearing Life." And I loved writing a Robin with agency, who was taking control of her own fate rather than feeling manipulated by it.

There were also other stories meant to be in the same universe, with a teenage witch from Italy running to Robin when she needs help, and Robin being a badass and taking revenge on Solomon when after kidnap Amon. I still dream about those once in a while.

Will I ever come back to this story, or should I just put it out to pasture... I don't know! But thank you for asking - it was neat to revisit this fic again. ❤️❤️❤️

#WIP game #ask game #witch hunter robin #shut up about babies #WIP #a surprising number of vampires in this post even though it's about witches #my fic tag

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hua-cheng-silver-wrath · 1 year ago

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Why is everyone so determined to get to Heaven, to get in good graces with them? When most of them are just two-faced assholes. Heaven is not what she thinks it is. And he proved that when he went up there and knocked those assholes down to the earth. The very mention of Heaven and his thoughts go straight to the heavenly emperor Jun Wu. His expression darkens and his arms cross over his chest.

"Heaven is not what you think it is. I would choose even to turn into nothing than to go there. You will understand in time."

He sighed, It looked like he needed to explain to her the concept of being dead. "Sakura you can leave ghost city and mingle with mortals same as I did. You can go and see your relatives. But you are not a living anymore. You don't need food or water or air or sleep. You can walk without the rest overnight, the sun may be a little problem, it can slow you down. But can't harm you. There is one more problem, you lack heartbeat and your limbs are as ice cold, which can upset or make mortals scream."

He thought about her ashes, looking at the jar he nods as yes. After all his ashes he turned into a necklace and a ring. Which he gave to his Xie Lian. That is an interesting story that may ease her torment. It was his life after all.

"Your misfortune is similar to mine, I was in love when I died. I was sixteen, and the person I loved never knew how I felt. I lost the chance to tell him as a living. So I preserved as a spirit lingering on the earth. When I returned to my original form. I was a ghost, after my trial I became a Ghost King. He knew how I felt. I told him but he was still living and I was dead, hell king, devil, and unnatural thing. He accepted that, and I gave him my ashes. You see ghosts can give their ashes to the person they trust or love."

He brushed his fingers over her wrist and there appeared a beautiful silver bracelet. "So, it's not too late for you to seek love, I waited and ran after mine for over 800 years."

He looked at one of his wrath butterflies, one flicker of his wrist, and a small insect sinking into silver shaped butterfly that was embedded in his vambraces.

“H-hell?” Sakura could feel her nonexistent heart drop to her stomach, “I’m in hell?” What could she have possibly done to deserve being sent here?

She let him tug her along by their still conjoined hands, in a bit of a state of shock, “Heaven… Just gave up on me? B-but all I’ve ever done is help people! I don’t understand!” Sakura wanted to cry, but stayed strong. This was all really hard to take in. She was dead but not only that but in hell, “Is… Is that what people do here for entertainment? Do the things they used to do when they were alive?”

Her puzzlement continued when she was led into a whole new room. A very empty one, save of an urn and the table it was on. She walked up to it, then looked at him, “My… Ashes? This used to be my body? S-so my friends and family will never actually know what happened to me?” She’ll just become another missing person. Her loved ones would never stop searching for her but they’ll never find her. How sad… “What do you mean, end my life? If something happens to my ashes, will I disappear?” Sakura turned back to the urn and frowned, “Am I allowed to fall in love in a place like this? One of my biggest regrets in life was never getting the chance to fall in love. To be loved. To get married. Simple, silly things like that. I’m just so stupid for getting myself killed…” She could feel tears building up in her eyes as she stared at her urn. A few of them rolled down her face and dripped onto the table before she reached up and rubbed her eyes.

Sakura silently scolded herself for crying. She had been doing so well holding in her feelings until now, “Can I– Turn my ashes into a necklace or something to keep them close. If they’re so important, I wish to keep them safe.” Again, she found herself wiping her face. It was a hard pill to swallow that she was dead. This wasn’t a dream. She wasn’t going to wake up.

“I don’t feel very special or powerful but when I was alive, I was very well known for my chakra and my control on it. I could smash holes through mountains with a single punch but also use my power to heal the sick and injured. I was on a mission to bring drugs and medical care to a village in need of it… Now they’ll never get it.” How stupid of her. She’ll never stop beating herself up for this.

Sakura turned to look at him just as the butterfly flew towards her. She opened her hands, allowing it to hover above her palms, “I remember seeing these. I thought they were so pretty– Unnaturally so. I shoulda seen them as a warning but it’s too late now.”

#hana-akari #muse: hua cheng #crimson rain sought flower

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viperbarnes · 2 years ago

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Starlight [2/3]

40s!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You'd grown up chasing after your brother and his best friend. Now that they've both returned from war, it seems Bucky's the one finally chasing after you.

Warnings: Age gaps, a brief scene of drunken pushiness in relation to sex [not by or towards bucky], language. I think that’s all!

Notes: This is an older story I've never shared on tumblr. I've had to split this story into 3 parts because of tumblrs text post limits rip, but it was originally a oneshot. the reader is mixed race and only Steve's half sister. Comments and reviews are more than welcome!

Words: full story is 19k, this one is 6.8k

Masterlist || Part One || Part Three

Bucky watches you with keen, interested eyes.

Why he always happens upon you when you’re out dancing, he doesn’t know. Well, it probably had something to do with the fact he’d been avoiding spending much time at yours and Steve’s place lately. He felt wrong. He felt dirty. But he can’t stop thinking about you.

Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue for Bucky Barnes. He’d thought about lots of women in his lifetime, harboured affections for various gals, but generally, the infatuation faded over time, and he’d move on.

This is different though, firstly because you were you. Steve’s baby sister, someone he’s always considered family and never even thought about making off-limits, because it wasn’t even something he’d entertained before!

Secondly, this was different because his thoughts weren’t just the usual running dialogue of imagining a woman in various states of undress, or with his lips pressed against hers… he’d bat away all those thoughts of you pretty quick, instead his mind fixated on the way your hand had felt in his, or your body pressed against his when you’d danced.

Bucky thinks about the places he’d take you, picnics, museums, parks, cafes, whatever, it didn’t matter. Lately, all he could think about when he did anything at all, was how much you’d enjoy it, or what you’d think of it. He’d imagine your smiling face, eyes all scrunched in the corners, tucked under his arm (his real one, not the prosthetic) forced to crane your head to look up at him cause you were just that close. Maybe an old lady would frown at your public displays of affection, and he’d drop a kiss to your lips just to spite her—

His mind snaps back to the present at the sound of your laughter. He doesn’t think you’ve seen him yet, though, why would you, when your eyes have been glued to him all evening.

Vinnie.

The Vinnie.

He’d apparently gotten off work at last, because he’d been swinging you around the dance floor since shortly after you’d arrived together. On one hand, Bucky’s glad the guy seems to be focused on you, not eying up any of the other women, and that you’re happy, but on the other hand, he wants to head over there and tell him if he’s ever late to see you again, he’d break his kneecaps.

He reels his emotions in. Threatening bodily harm on a kid who looked at least five years younger than him was probably uncalled for. Still, he can’t help but watch you with a strange mix of happiness, and extreme jealousy.

He considers leaving, but he’s far too self-indulgent (self-torturing, more like), and so he stays.

When he gets pulled onto the dancefloor by a girl he knows from here and there, he doesn’t resist, though he does try to keep at least one eye focused on his own partner. The dance is one of those once that everyone knows, everyone seems to move in sync, and the sound of many voices joining in the singer on stage fills the air, as well as laughter and chatter.

Bucky isn’t ashamed to say that when the dance calls for everyone to switch partners, he makes damn sure he gets paired with you.

You’re laughing, hands falling into place on his shoulder and in his hand, even as you remain looking at Vinnie, eyes lingering over your shoulder for just a moment before you turn to face your new companion.

You register him with a small gasp, and a flash of confused shock on your face, though Bucky is already leading you in the next part of the dance, a cool smile plastered across his lips. If he holds your waist just a little firmer, or dances with a little more flourish than usual, who's to say it was his need to out-do your date?

“Bucky?!” You manage between twirls, blinking, still confused, though his heart soars at the slight excitement in your voice.

“You look lovely tonight.” He tells you, feeling pride at the bashfulness that overcomes your expression, even though he shouts at himself internally, demanding to know what exactly he was doing.

Before you can respond, the dance switches again, and you’re spun back into the arms of your original partners. This time Bucky doesn’t bother to focus on more than his footwork as he takes the other girl back in toward him, his eyes are locked solely on you, now halfway across the dancefloor, your own gaze staring back, flustered, before Vinnie takes your attention again.

When the song ends, he bee-lines for the bar, and downs a glass of water. He loses sight of you in the crowds for a time, but he feels satisfied to do so. A part of him feels like a jerk for sabotaging the one night he’d actually seen Vinnie show up. He knows he makes you nervous, recognises the signs of a woman interested in him, and he feels as though it’s wrong of him to distract you when you were very clearly with somebody else.

The other part of him doesn’t give even one singular shit.

Bucky spends the next hour or so talking with the same woman he’d danced with and her friends, discussing the war and his stationing with the other guys who’d served, happy to indulge in meaningless small talk for a while. He throws glances around the room every so often, keeping an eye out for you, though he doesn’t spot you again for quite some time.

When he does, he feels everything in the room stop. Silence fills his ears as his eyes focus in on you, and he ducks his head to the side, trying to see past the crowds of people who still stand and dance around.

You were under Vinnie’s arm, your movements slowed, and lagging, though you smile lazily up at the man. You seem to stumble just slightly, tripping over your own feet, and you pause, swaying as you giggle. Vinnie seems to laugh as well, one hand holding open a side door as he ushers you out, his cheeks bright red and flushed.

Bucky’s senses snap back to him when the door closes, and you and Vinnie disappear from sight. He stands suddenly, feeling dread and a small amount of sickness stir in his belly. If the others at his table call out, or even notice him as he marches away, Bucky doesn’t hear them.

He pushes his way through the crowd, eyes never leaving the sidedoor, as if it would disappear if he looked away for even one second.

Bucky had exited clubs and bars many-a-times through such a side door, a woman under his arm, just like he’d watched you and Vinnie exit seconds ago. It was a quick out— a quick path to privacy in the side alleys of the buildings— a shadowy, dark place that allowed for numerous intimate opportunities, if the two parties so wished.

He pushes open the side door with distaste, like the wood itself had offended him, and casts his gaze quickly up and down the alley, but he can already hear your conversation, turns on where he sees you pushed up against the red brick, Vinnie’s body pressed against yours as if to keep you upright, his lips sliding sloppily along your neck.

“V-Vin, stop it, l-let’s jus’... jus’ go back inside…” Your words are slurred, your voice not quite desperate yet, but your hands clutch at your date's arms, trying to push his own hands away from where they’re snaking up the bottom of your skirt. You’re clearly drunk, judging by your wobbly movements, and the hiccups interrupting your speech, like you didn’t quite have full control over your body, like your tongue was heavy in your mouth. Vinnie seems intoxicated too, though not nearly as much as you, and he shushes you, trying to placate your pleas.

“Come on, baby, jus’ wanna show you a good time…” His hands reach higher, and you seem to buckle at the knees trying to swat him away.

“Vinnie, stop it! I want to go back inside!” Your voice is panicked now, a tiny whimper leaving you when Vinnie growls in annoyance, jerking you back against the bricks in warning, his hands moving to the front of your dress instead, moulding themselves over your breasts. You let out a shaky cry as you try to push him away again, but you’re too inebriated.

The scene plays out before Bucky in a matter of seconds, and with his fists balled at his sides, he stalks swiftly toward the two of you.

“Get the hell off her, or I’ll beat you so hard you won’t know what you did.” Bucky barks, already curling his hand into the back of Vinnies shirt and yanking him away from you. He doesn’t bother restraining himself, too angry to care that he still needed to be careful, that whatever Zola’s experiments on him had been meant to do, it had made him almost as strong as Steve. Almost.

“Wha— what the hell pal!?” Vinnie is suddenly far less occupied with getting in your pants, and now focused on staring sheepishly as Bucky, his face decidedly red from both embarrassment and alcohol.

“She asked you to stop. Is that how you normally treat a girl, or are you just feeling especially shitty tonight?” Bucky snaps, letting the kid go, but shoving him toward the opposite side of the alley, stepping in front of you as he does so.

“We were just— it’s none of your business!” Vinnie exclaims, fumbling for what he should be feeling in this situation, and landing on incredulous. Bucky sneers and steps forward.

“I’m makin’ it my business, punk.”

Vinnie stutters, searching for some kind of excuse, his eyes darting past Bucky to you, where he sees your arms crossed over your chest, your body curled in on itself, and you sniffle softly. His face seems to shift into realisation and regret and he swallows thickly, looking back to Bucky with wide eyes.

“I didn’t think she meant it! Girls are always like tha—”

“—If a girl tells you to stop, you stop. Every. Time. No excuses. If a woman wants to fool around with you, you’ll know.” Bucky seeths, pointing a finger as he speaks, barely containing his rage. The kid was drunk too, which was still no excuse, but Bucky couldn’t in good-conscious beat on him now…. If he ever ran into him sober, however…

Vinnie nods, his eyes quickly flickering to you again.

“M’sorry Millie… I jus’ thought…” He trails off, rubbing at his face.

“Get the hell outta here while you can still walk.” Bucky threatens, pleased when the kid scrambles back from him, fear overtaking his expression.

“And if I ever see you around her again, I’ll make sure you’ll be sorry, you understand me?” All he gets is a frantic nodding, before Vinnie clambers out of the alleyway.

Bucky’s demeanour shifts in less than seconds, he turns on you, taking in your huddled, shaking form, the way your chin is pressed almost to your chest, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself for security, your lip pouting and wobbling as tears stain your cheeks and your shoulders shake.

“Fuckin’ hell, Mills, come here,” Bucky coos, letting you fall into him instead of grabbing you and pulling you near like he wants to. He figures you’ve had about enough of that tonight. Your sobs lose their silence, like his embrace gave you permission to make sound and you gasp for breath as you cling to him desperately, crying against his suit front as he wraps you up tightly, tucking you under his chin and cupping the back of your head.

“It’s okay honey, he’s gone, you’re alright…” Bucky murmurs against your hairline, your whole body shaking, wracked with sobs as the shock and panic of the situation wear off.

“…You’re alright.” He repeats, rubbing up and down your back soothingly.

When you pull back from him, he doesn’t constrain you, but you don’t move far, just enough to look up at him, your hands clutched in his clothes, your eyes wide and red, your face mottled with tear stains.

“M’sorry Bucky, I’m s-sorr—” Your voice chokes off as you squeeze your eyes closed and a fresh wave of tears overcomes you. Your words were still slurred, worse with your crying, and he can’t help but wonder exactly how much you’d had to drink.

“It’s alright, hey, look at me…” He ducks his head into your view, and cups your damp cheeks, warm with tears, angling your face up to him. You weakly open your eyes, looking for all the world like you were afraid of what he’d say.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, you got that? Not a damn thing.” He tells you firmly, letting his thumbs brush away some tears. You stare up at him sadly, looking miserable and ashamed, and he wishes you were in a state of mind that you’d reasonably understand him. You didn’t have anything to be sorry nor ashamed of. If you’d been sober, and had wanted to sneak away with Vinnie, he’d have been jealous and disapproving as hell, but he would never shame you for it.

Bucky sighs, and leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Let me call a cab, I’ll take ya home, honey.” He’s barely finished speaking before you’re frantically shaking your head and pulling away from him like he’d burned you.

“No, no, no no! I can’t go home! Not like thi—” You words choke off in your throat, but you swallow, more tears flowing down your cheeks now. Then, like you were desperate, you shoot forward and cling to Bucky’s front once again, lip wobbling dangerously.

“I can’t go home like this, Steve will— he’ll lose it and I don’t— I— I just can’t, Bucky, please, don’t make me, don’t take me home!” You all but beg, dissolving into tears again, and this time, Bucky is less sure of what to do. He hesitates a second before wrapping his arms back around you, shushing you softly.

On one hand, he wanted to tell Steve, so that he was aware and could look out for you, and possibly so he could rope him into sitting down with Vinnie, and having a very stern chat.

The other part of him knows why you don’t want to face your brother just yet, why you might keep it from him. Steve’s habit of standing up for what was right was noble, and it was one of his best qualities, but even though his heart was in the right place, sometimes it wasn’t the sort of care someone needed.

Bucky’s mind whirls, searching for a solution, only able to conjure one that made any kind of sense.

“Please, Bucky, please don’t tell him, don’t send me home….” You’re crying still, begging him now and he sighs.

God he was such a sucker for you.

“Okay, okay. You… you can stay with me tonight, alright? But on one condition,” He pulls back enough so you have to look at him, your eyes wide and your head already nodding.

“You gotta tell Steve at some point. Or I will, cause this was not okay, and he needs to be able to keep an eye out for—”

“—I will, I promise, I promise!” You stress, words slurring sloppily again, your blinking slow and sleepy and he gazes long at you, before nodding once.

“Alright. Come on, let's get you outta here…”

---

You’d never been to Bucky’s apartment. You’d been to the Barnes’ home many times before, but never to the apartment he’d moved into shortly after returning home. It’s nice, spacious enough for one person, but still small, a studio space, with a kitchen, living, dining and bedroom space all in one, only a small bathroom through a door off to the side.

A long set of bookshelves divide the room, lining the bed that was pressed into the far corner, granting the sleeper some privacy, though the minimal number of books Bucky owned meant you could see through most of the square shelves.

You’ve stopped crying by the time he opens his door for you, ushering you inside, and locking it behind him. He seems to awkwardly rush around in front of you, picking up a few stray dishes, and a couple of clothing items that had been discarded on the floor, trying to straighten things up, all the while mumbling about having not expected a guest.

You don’t really notice anyway, your mind was too fogged, your senses too clogged, your brain taking a moment to catch up with your eyes as you cast your gaze around the apartment, making you feel ill. He hadn’t bothered to turn the main lights on when you’d entered, but a small explosion of warm light from behind the bookshelf-divider, a glow that lights up the whole corner of the one-room home, switches on seconds later.

You take a slow, heavy step forward to where Bucky steps out from behind the barrier, but stop when your vision swims and you feel yourself sway on unsteady feet.

“Hey, hey, let me help you…” Warm hands invitingly tug you gently, a presence that seems to engulf you, as if he were everywhere at once, and you find yourself sat on the end of a soft bed, a glass of water pressed into your hands.

“Drink this.” Bucky tells you, and you obey without question, pausing only once, halfway through the tall glass to catch your breath, before finishing the rest. You watch as he scurries to refill it, but places the cup in one of the low, easy to reach shelves this time. You follow his movements as best you can, but every time you blink, you feel like you wake up a hundred years later.

“Sweetheart? Can you pay attention for a second?” Bucky crouches in front of you when you open your eyes, and it takes you a moment to focus on his face, smiling kindly at you. Over one of his knees lays a worn old shirt.

“I’m gonna help you take your dress off now, okay? I’ll close my eyes, but you tell me if you want me to stop, alright?”

You stare at him, and wonder why he thinks you’d ever want to stop him from taking your dress off… unlike Vinnie, you’d be more than happy to let Bucky undress you, eyes totally open. You nod however, and you think you hear yourself say something, but your mind is too lagged to understand what it is, and Bucky only chuckles sweetly.

You fumble through undressing, partially because your bones felt like lead, and partially because Bucky had his eyes shut tight, and you couldn’t quite speak clearly enough to explain to him what you needed.

But you make it, eventually, left in only your panties, you gladly shrug into Bucky’s shirt, buttoning it up lopsided. Even as you make clear you were somewhat decent, you shuffle away from him and up the bed, tucking your exposed legs under before he can properly see you. You know you just asserted you’d be happy for him to undress you, but a trace amount of base propriety from your sober mind leaks through, and you feel a little naked.

Perhaps if more of your sober mind made an appearance, you’d have been able to revel in the absolute indecency of sleep in Bucky’s bed, a thought you’d had floating around in your brain just as you fell asleep each night for the past several weeks.

Alas, you’d been plied with too much drink, and the second your head hits the pillow, you’re out. Bucky putters around, making sure you were tucked in, and gently rolling you to lie on your side. He briefly nudges you awake to show you where he’d put a large bowl, though only in the morning do you realise he’d meant it as a possible vomit receptacle.

You drift in and out of sleep for what feels like hours, listening to Bucky move around his apartment, the shuffle of clothes, a drawer, a door opening and shutting again, until the light from the lamp that stood in the small walkway between the bed and the wall, is shut off, and the backs of your eyelids are bathed in darkness.

You wake at some time in the very early morning, the brightness of the moon outside the window giving you enough light to see into the apartment. You head aches, but you decidedly no longer feel drunk. You do feel extremely parched, and you reach out for the glass of water Bucky had prepared for you earlier, pushing yourself to sit up as you once again down it almost in one gulp.

In your newfound sobriety, you look around Bucky’s apartment through the gaps in the bookshelf. It looked neater than you’d previously thought, but you think your initial notes of the place were tainted by how busy and clogged your mind had been. The space is orderly, neat, but a little sparse.

You end your inspection of the space, and shuffle to sit back against the bed frame, gathering your thoughts. You’d never really drunk before. You couldn’t buy alcohol yourself, you weren’t yet twenty-one, but you’d had a glass or two here and there with friends. It was rare though. You don’t remember drinking all that much last night (last night? Tonight? Yesterday? You have no idea about the passage of time right now), you’d thought the fruity, sweet drinks Vinnie had bought you had been alcohol-free…

Your eyes well up, and a lump builds in your throat as your mind wanders to the rest of the night, what had happened in the alley.

You know he’d had a drink or two earlier, but you hadn’t thought he’d been that drunk either… the way he tried to touch you, even when you asked him to stop, you feel your legs shake even now, and you draw them to your chest, tightly.

Vinnie had tried to… well, he hadn’t, thanks to Bucky, but you wonder if he would have stopped at all, if Bucky hadn’t been there. You fumble with your fingers to feel for a place at the back of your head, a spot of discomfort, a bruise from when he’d shook you against the wall.

Despite yourself, your breathing gets heavier, and you furiously brush away the tears that pool in your eyes, but they continue to form. You press your forehead to your knees firmly, squeezing your eyes shut as you will yourself not to burst into tears.

Bucky had quite literally saved you. You hadn’t even known he’d been there until he’d danced with you, and when he hadn’t come to say hello after, you’d thought maybe you’d imagined the whole thing… It wasn’t like you hadn’t been daydreaming of seeing him walk through the diner door at work at least a dozen times every shift…

Bucky had stopped Vinnie, and held you while you cried… he promised not to take you home, and had instead let you impose on him for the night. You know it mustn’t have been an easy thing for him, not to immediately tell Steve, and you don’t take it lightly.

You lift your head and look down at yourself, his old faded shirt a little big on you, but not too large, and you stroke the fabric appreciatively, before casting your eyes down at the rest of the bed. For some reason, despite not having sensed a person beside you, you’d expected to find him tucked over on the other side, maybe even with a line of pillows between you, for modesty… but he’s not.

You perk then, a small amount of worry filling you that he’d left you here alone, and you scramble to the end of the bed, where you can get a clearer view of the room, and pause.

You see Bucky right away, across the room from you, still in his slacks, his shirt discarded, but his undershirt clinging tightly to his torso, the light from the moon casting him in such a way that very little about his body underneath the white fabric was left to the imagination. His arm, the flesh one, is toned and thick with muscle, the prosthetic Stark had given him a white colour, but it matched the shape and size of his other arm perfectly.

You swallow thickly, taking in how he slouches back in the chair, legs spread wide, leaning to one side, so his head can lean into his hand, his elbow propped up on the chair-arm.

You force yourself to look away. You felt bad. You didn’t want to have put Bucky out of his own bed, even just for the night. Guilt overcomes you, and you wonder if you should have just gone home and faced Steve.

But no, you couldn’t.

You would, but not yet.

Stirring in your chest makes you look at Bucky again, and you bite on your lip to keep from gasping when a fresh wave of emotion rolls over you. Hurt, shame, relief, embarrassment, thankfulness, affection, and something that feels a hell of a lot stronger than just a crush.

You wipe your face with the back of your hand, and crawl from the bed. You didn’t want to be alone, even if he was only a couple of meters away at most. Bucky made you feel safe, and secure, and you let your feet carry you toward him before you can talk yourself out.

For a moment, as you stand in front of his slumped, sleeping form, you linger awkwardly, unsure if you should wake him or not, and decide instead to gently settle yourself in his lap, perched on his large thigh. You move slowly, so he wouldn’t wake too suddenly, and curl yourself up against him, your arms wrapped around his neck, your head resting against his shoulder. He hums quietly in some amount of alertness, hands moving to cradle you closer, leaning back now, shifting with you to a more comfortable position.

You feel your face warm with embarrassment, and even though you know he’s awake now, he doesn’t open his eyes. The hand he’d extended around your legs, to keep you secure, moves slightly, soothingly, back and forth over your hip, and you cuddle yourself even closer. After another moment, Bucky hums again, deep, the sound reverberating through his chest against yours, and he lays his head to rest atop your own.

“You’re alright, honey,” He murmurs, barely above a whisper, and you feel him press his lips to your hair, before resting his cheek back across your head.

“You’re alright.”

When you wake again, hours later, the early morning sun shines through the windows, replacing the moonlight of the night before. You groan a little, shifting, your mind not fully catching up to where you are for several seconds, until you hear someone else groan too, feel the vibration of the sound against your side.

You blink your eyes open and find yourself with the perfect view of Bucky’s face, head tilted slightly to the side, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he wakes further. A smattering of stubble shadows his jaw rather handsomely, you think, and you refrain from sighing contently when his hands tighten their grip around you.

When he turns his head to look down at you, you don’t feel the urge to look away, nor do you think you’d even be able to. He blinks sleepily, crystal blue eyes flickering over your face, like he was studying your features carefully, like you’d quiz him in them later. You really were quite close though, you must have nuzzled yourself nearer during the night.

Your hands around the back of his neck slip apart as he shifts, never looking away from you, and in the early morning, a pale blue lighting up the room with the winter sun, you feel hypnotised.

You don’t know how you manage it, you were usually too nervous to make a first move, too skittish, too worried about what someone might think, but now, you let your hand slip further, sliding slowly over his jaw, rough with the aforementioned stubble. Bucky seems to pause, not moving of his own volition at all, only letting you gently cup his cheek, turning his face further toward yours.

Your pulse races, you can feel his breath dance over your lips now, but his gaze dropping to your lips seals the deal in your mind, and you lean forwards enough to close the distance between you.

You kiss Bucky softly, and he still seems to be waiting, following your lead as you press your lips against his own. One kiss, and then another, lingering a little longer, testing the waters, and then a third, this time Bucky’s hand finds the nape of your neck, and you fight the urge to keen against him at the display of possessiveness.

He still kisses you softly, slowly, but angles your head to the side, curls his lips against your own in a manner that was different to the prolonged pecks you’d given him just before. You’d never really kissed anybody like this, or for this long, and even though he was clearly no longer following your lead, rather the opposite in fact, he still moves slow, as if you might back out at any moment.

You don’t though, leaning closer, angling for more… more. You don’t know what, just, more Bucky, more of his mouth on yours, even though he hadn’t once let up yet. You think you feel his lips quirk, like he was smiling, but you pay it little mind, readjusting your hand on his cheek, trying to pull his face closer to yours still.

His mouth was warm and wet, and strangely, you aren’t disgusted by that, it feels intoxicating, in a completely different way than last night. Something nips at your lower lip, a small warning before you feel him tug on it, the sensation so new, and good, you moan.

Your lips part, but your faces don’t, and you feel hot breath fan across your wet lips. You’re breathing heavily, chest heaving against his own, with nothing but a thin button-down between you, but before you can even think to be embarrassed, Bucky presses his lips back to yours, softly, chastely, and then to your nose, before he finally pulls back enough to look at you.

You realise then, you only know this, because you feel him do so, your eyes shut tight. A thumb swipes over your cheek, and even though your heart races in your chest, you force yourself to look up at him.

For a moment you just stare. You think Bucky almost looks sad, though he smiles softly, and keeps caressing your cheek with his thumb. You want to say something, but you don’t know what. Your mind hadn’t even caught up with you yet.

You’d kissed Bucky!

He’d kissed you back!

“We… we should get you home.” He clears his throat, speaking at last, and his words make you deflate. You don’t want to complain, though, or push your luck. Maybe he’d just realised what he’d done and wanted to forget all about it? Maybe he regretted letting you stay last night.

“Yeah…” You reply, climbing off his lap quickly, and tugging on the bottom of the shirt he’d lent you, in hopes of it covering just a little more.

To Bucky’s credit, he averts his gaze as he stands and stretches, only looking at you again when a loud, frantic banging on his door breaks the calm.

“Bucky? Buck, open up, Emilia didn’t come home last night!” Steve’s voice greets you through the closed door, his knocking incessant, his shouting clearly filled with panic. Your eyes must be as wide as Bucky’s as the two of you stare at one another, but before you can even think about scrambling, before you can even locate where Bucky had hung your dress over a chair the night before, the lock in the door turns, and you realise, with rising panic at your state of undress and what it must look like, that Steve has a key to Bucky’s apartment.

“Buck! Get up! Millie didn’t come home last night, I was out late and I thought she was already in when I—” By the time Steve spots you, Bucky had begun moving toward him, hands out as if to stop his approach, or calm him down, but he too freezes with Steve’s sudden silence.

Steve stares at you, relief flashing across his face, quickly exchanged for confusion as he takes you in, standing in Bucky’s living room with nothing but a shirt on. Bucky’s shirt.

“Emilia?” He still sounds confused when he says your name, but quickly, his expression morphs into realisation, and then anger, his nostrils flaring, his jaw clenching as he shuts his mouth tight. His eyes swivel back to Bucky who stood frozen in front of him.

“I’m gonna ask you once what is going on….” Steve all but spits, and you tense up. Bucky looks at you, and for a moment you think he’s about to tell Steve everything, explain to him that it wasn’t what it looked like, and that he’d just let you stay with him the night before because of what had happened and your drunkenness. You brace yourself for Steve to turn on you, to tell you to get dressed and to drag you home for a proper scolding.

But he doesn’t. Bucky squares his shoulders and looks back at Steve.

The blond glares at him.

“My sister?” Steve demands, and for once, you were actually a little afraid. Not of Steve, of course, but of the fact that you’d never once seen the two men really fight. You’d never seen Steve this angry before full stop, let alone at Bucky. Your stomach drops to your knees.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Steve unleashes at last, both hands shoving Bucky back, and you think he either had to be holding back (it certainly didn’t look like it) or Bucky was a lot stronger than you’d realised (since when?!). Bucky doesn’t reply, just takes the shove, and when he clearly doesn’t get what he wants to hear, Steve’s face scrunches up in pure anger.

You watch him pull his fist back, shouting for him to stop, but the punch has already landed by the time you can bring yourself to move, Bucky hissing sharply and stumbling back as he grabs at his face, blood spilling quickly from his nose.

“Steve! Stop it! Please!” You feel your eyes prickle again as you grab his arm, stopping him from advancing more, his glare turned on you now and you don’t even think twice about coming clean.

“It isn’t what you think! Bucky helped me last night!” You hurry to say as Steve lowers his fist and stares down at you, searching for a lie in what you were saying.

“Mills, you don’t have to—” Bucky tries to cut in, but you ignore him, only Steve giving him a sharp look.

“—I drank too much, and Vinnie tried to— he was touching me, and Bucky stopped him! I didn’t wanna go home, I didn’t want you to be upset or angry with me, and he let me stay here…!” You breathe in shakily as you finish, watching Steve gradually take in your story, the anger, the hurt, then the relief that floods his face sheer and apparent. He looks between you and Bucky, who still stands quietly, holding his bloody nose.

“He didn’t wanna lie, but I asked him not to tell you, please… It’s not his fault…” Your lip wobbles and you wrap your arms around yourself in comfort. Steve is quiet for another few seconds before he swallows thickly and looks at Bucky, pained.

“Buck… why didn’t you… I thought…”

“I promised her.” Bucky shrugs, voice unreadable. Steve tugs away the arm you hold, but pulls you close with it instead.

“You… you should have called, or told me, or…”

“And then you woulda gotten angry, and gone out on a manhunt.” You say, wiping your face.

Steve sighs heavily.

“Okay,” He states, pulling away from you and looking around the room, readjusting.

“Okay.” He repeats, clearly trying to get a handle on what needed to be dealt with first. He looks down at you, and then away again, and clears his throat.

“Why don’t you get dressed… and I’ll take you home…. Then we can… talk about Vinnie.”

You can tell he’s trying a great deal to keep anger out of his voice, but even so, you dread the conversation to come. You nod anyway though, looking to Bucky briefly, before you grab your dress and slink into the bathroom.

Steve runs a hand over his face and lets out a deep sigh.

“You didn’t have pants you could’ve lent her?” He questions, and Bucky shrugs.

“Didn’t think of it, she was barely able to speak by the time I got her here last night… I was just tryna put her down. She’d had a lot.” Bucky pulls his blood-covered hand from his face and shakes it. Steve winces and moves to the kitchenette, grabbing a towel and wetting it under the tap, before he holds it out to Bucky, who takes it gratefully.

“Buck, I— thank you, for… helping her last night and still tryna keep your word this morning…” Steve watches Bucky wipe at his face for a moment.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“—I know what it looked like, Steve, I woulda punched me too.”

The two share a look, before Steve’s expression darkens.

“You knock the teeth outta that little rat?” He asks, and Bucky sighs, shaking his head.

“The punk was drunk too. I pulled him off her and told him what would happen if I ever saw him around again.” Bucky can see Steve about to protest, but the blond shuts his mouth and chews on the inside of his cheek.

“Look, Steve, don’t… don’t be too hard on her. She knows she messed up, she feels pretty ashamed already.” Bucky tries, Steve blinking at him in confusion.

“Why would I be hard on her?!” Steve asks, and Bucky raises his hands.

“Just saying. She already knows he’s no good, I think part of the reason she didn’t want me to take her home was cause she didn’t want you rubbing it in… or whatever. You know.” He shrugs, and Steve purses his lips, but sighs, nodding.

“Yeah. I gotcha… But I don’t ever want her to feel like she can’t come to me.” Steve’s brow furrows and his face falls in hurt. Bucky steps near, lifting a hand to place on his shoulder, before aborting the idea, seeing as said hand was stained with blood still.

“I don’t think she’s used to having this you around. Before the serum, you had nothing to lose and no real responsibility. You were a kid,” He says, Steve glancing at him side-on.

“Now… Well, I don’t want you gettin’ a fat head and all, but you’ve evened out. Guess there’s enough room for all that Rogers Righteousness, now, huh?” Bucky narrowly dodges the slug Steve throws half-heartedly at his shoulder, the blond smiling a little.

“Jus’ talk to her.” Bucky shrugs. Steve turns to face him fully, and places both hands on his shoulders. He gives Bucky a look, one that makes him squirm a little, like Steve could see right through him when it came to you, like he knew. Bucky isn’t sure he’s ready to have that conversation yet, though, it couldn’t go much worse than the one this morning.

“Thank you, Buck, for taking care of her.”

“You know I’d never let anyone hurt her.” Bucky hears himself replying, but he’s still locked in Steve’s gaze.

Did he know?!

The bathroom door opens, and you step out in your dress from the evening before. Steve releases Bucky and helps you into your coat.

“Put some ice on that, pal.” Steve calls, and Bucky gives him the finger behind his back, but moves nearer. For a moment it’s all awkward as you try to process if you should hug him or not, but you decide you don’t care. If he did regret your kiss this morning, you would take what you could get, even if it was only a hug goodbye.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You say quietly as you wrap your arms around his neck, and he returns the embrace, squeezing you briefly, before letting you go. He doesn’t kiss your cheek, and you feel your stomach drop again.

“Course.”

Out on the street, Steve hails a cab, and despite knowing you’d have to talk to him about what happened sooner or later, he doesn’t push you and you don’t feel as anxious as you had about the whole idea earlier. He just holds your hand the whole drive home.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes/you #bucky barnes/yn #bucky barnes x yn

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

Note

Lao Nie and Nie Mingjue have a good day together and bond. What was their relationship like before the qi deviation?

Boys - ao3

“Two paths, hmm?” Lao Nie said, squinting at the road markers in front of him. “Well, I don’t see why we can’t go down this one to the right –”

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

“Because little uncle asked me not to let you meet any new dangerous women,” Nie Mingjue said, looking as serious as ever – only his little hands, swinging to the side, revealed that he was just a ten-year-old. Still a child, no matter how mature he tried to act. “And a place called the Springtime Ghost Valley sounds like it probably has dangerous women.”

“Hey,” Lao Nie protested mildly. “Who’s the father here, me or you?”

“If a-die wants a new wife, little uncle will find one that isn’t inclined to kill him.”

That sounded like a recitation.

“Then what’s even the point,” Lao Nie grumbled, and reached out to ruffle his son’s hair, enjoying how Nie Mingjue yelped when he did, glaring up at him with offended dignity.

In all honesty, Lao Nie had no idea how he’d ended up with a son as serious and sincere and earnest as Nie Mingjue – he himself hadn’t taken anything seriously in years. Probably it was his mother’s influence.

Now that was a woman.

Not that his foxy second wife hadn’t been woman enough to blow him away either…

Hmm.

Perhaps they had a point about his taste in women.

“How about men?” Lao Nie suggested. “If it really means so much to you, I could swear off of women entirely –”

“A-die.”

“Mm?”

“Leave Sect Leader Wen alone.”

Lao Nie cracked up.

Because Lao Nie was the father, however easy-going he might sometimes be, they ended up heading down the right-hand path regardless. They were supposed to be night-hunting, after all – it was the perfect bonding experience according to Jiwei, though Lao Nie suspected his saber of having selfish intentions there – and deliberately avoiding a place with ‘Ghost’ in the name was hardly appropriate for scions of a Great Sect like theirs.

Although the reference to springtime was admittedly a little worrisome.

If it turned out to be a brothel, with the ghost thing being just a clever if somewhat tonedeaf marketing ploy, Lao Nie was turning around and taking them both home at once. He wasn’t going to risk little Nie Mingjue turning out anything like that awful Jin Guangshan – or, nearly as bad, having to explain anything more about the joys of sex to those earnest little button eyes and dimpled cheeks with no time to prepare first. He still hadn’t recovered emotionally from the last few times Nie Mingjue had asked him a question like that.

When they finally reached the end of the path, turning a corner to behold a clearing that was probably completely ordinary during the daytime, Lao Nie found that he’d been both right and wrong.

“It’s a ghost brothel,” he marveled. He’d never seen anything like it in his life.

“Dangerous women,” Nie Mingjue reminded him.

“A-Jue! Let your father live a little!”

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes.

Lao Nie virtuously ignored his slightly judgmental brat of a son. It wouldn’t do him that much harm to go visit for a while, with the risk of Jin Guangshan-ness being relatively minimal; they were ghosts, after all. It was the duty of every cultivator to fight against evil, wherever it lived, no matter its form –

“Fighting? Is that what it’s called?”

“Who taught you sarcasm?” Lao Nie asked, knowing perfectly well that the answer was himself. “I ought to smack them.”

Nie Mingjue crossed his arms over his chest and pouted at him. “Fine, it’s fighting, we’ll go fight them. Do you want me to start drawing ghost-repelling talismans?”

“Liberate first!” Lao Nie sang out. “Come on, let’s go see what they’re like – er, that is, I mean, see what grievances they have that are keeping them here, of course. There’s no harm in dangerous women. Just don’t let them eat your yang energy!”

“It’s not my yang energy that I’m worried about, a-die…”

The ghostly madame was an extraordinarily charming person and Lao Nie liked her at once.

Not liked her liked her – he’d fallen head over heels with both of his wives from the first word, and that hadn’t happened here – but still, conversing with her was an extraordinarily enjoyable way to spend time.

She was witty and clever, with a broad range of knowledge and a gift for keeping a conversation lively and exciting; she could meet every verbal riposte with ease, and looked utterly gorgeous and composed the entire time. Sure, she kept trying to lure Lao Nie into an orgy in which all of his yang energy would be slowly sucked out before his body was ripped to pieces and his bones cracked open so that the ghosts could consume the marrow within, but what a way to go, right?

Nie Mingjue spent his time making friends with the ghost prostitutes.

Lao Nie wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting.

Well, he supposed he’d been expected a range of things – anything from Nie Mingjue getting suckered in by one of the ghosts and needing to be rescued by his father to Nie Mingjue just pulling out his Baxia and trying to stab them because he felt offended by their existence. He wasn’texpecting his ghostly conversational partner to suddenly frown mid-sentence and say, “What is he talking to them about?”

Lao Nie turned his head slightly and started listening.

“– just because you’re a ghost doesn’t mean you have to work allthe time, surely,” Nie Mingjue was saying, completely serious and earnest in the way he so often was. Lao Nie’s son had in fact inherited his sense of humor, only it tended to be buried fairly deep down and make its way up to the surface in an understated way in the most unexpected times; the rest of the time, he was straightforward to a fault, treating everything sincerely. “The birds in the trees, the animals in the fields – even among prostitutes, even the street-walking ladies know they need to take time to rest! I can’t believe you really have to work every single night. How long has it been since you had a night off?”

The ghost prostitutes around him had contemplative looks on their faces.

“Isn’t the whole point of becoming a vengeful man-eating ghost that you have more power than regular humans? I don’t know, it kind of seems like a bad deal if you have even worse conditions after all that –”

“I’m sorry,” the ghostly madame said, looking irritated underneath all her carefully painted smiles. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment…”

Lao Nie had to bite his hand to keep from laughing out loud.

“I think we’ve all learned a valuable life lesson today,” Lao Nie announced.

Nie Mingjue was pouting again.

“I don’t think we did,” he said, sounding profoundly skeptical. A filial child like Nie Mingjue shouldn’t sound so skeptical of his beloved father’s words of wisdom, really; if Lao Nie wasn’t so heartless, he might be offended. Of course, the skepticism might have originated from the heartlessness, so it was all six of one, half a dozen of the other in the end. “Those poor ghost ladies! They were still fighting each other by the time we left!”

“I’ve never seen a ghost pull another ghost’s hair before,” Lao Nie conceded. It had been brilliant. “One day, someone’s going to figure out a more reliable way to use ghosts to fight ghosts, mark my words.”

“Isn’t that demonic cultivation?”

“Oh, sure,” Lao Nie said, still cheerful. “If whoever it is does too much of it, eventually it’ll build up into a backlash that’ll kill them in some grossly horrific manner. Probably ripped into pieces by the backlash. And that’s not even counting how they’d be ostracized and hunted by the cultivation world first! But still, imagine how exciting it’d be in the meantime!”

“A-die…”

Lao Nie patted Nie Mingjue on the head again, earning another glare. “Immortality is a lie, A-Jue. We’re all here for a short time, each and every one of us, and only the length determined by fate and man. All that matters is what we do with the time that we have, and whether we’ve used it well.”

“To fight against evil wherever it lives, no matter its form?”

“To leave the world a better place than when we entered it, and to let our memories linger in the hearts of those that love us,” Lao Nie said. “Fighting evil is the best way to accomplish the former, and living a good life the latter. And you might as well have a good time doing it, if you can! Everything else is just extra.”

Nie Mingjue thought about that for a moment. “And a-die likes to have second helpings of extras?”

That was true. Lao Nie was a man of prodigious appetites of all sorts.

Despite that, he protested, “That wasn’t the point I was trying to make. I was being serious for once.” Seeing Nie Mingjue’s skeptical look, he made a face. “I can be serious, sometimes!”

“Can you?”

“It’s been known to happen! A date written on a wall will be right once a year.”

“Not if the wall gets painted over.”

“Ouch,” Lao Nie said. “I don’t even understand the metaphor you’re making, and I’m still going ouch.”

“Uh-huh,” Nie Mingjue said, utterly unimpressed. “You know, if you wanted one of the ghost ladies to be Third Mother, you would’ve been better off with the one playing the qin, not the ghost madame. She was much more powerful.”

Lao Nie arched his eyebrows. “Was she?”

Nie Mingjue nodded. “She had claws like a lizard.”

Lao Nie tried to remember which one of them had been the ghost girl playing the qin. He couldn’t quite remember at first – the women there were all surpassingly lovely, almost to the point of over-saturation – and then suddenly an image came into view, a beauty with a veil and sharp sword-like eyebrows, leaning over the qin with the shining pearl hanging in the center of her forehead dipping down.

And, yes, claws like a lizard.

“Hmm,” Lao Nie said. “That might have been a dragon, actually. You should be careful of those, they’re tricky.”

They’ll rip you and three dozen other cultivators besides into more pieces than can be picked up without blinking an eye, he meant, and you won’t even know what hit you. Avoid at all costs.

“Oh,” Nie Mingjue said, blinking. “Oops.”

“…what do you mean, oops?”

“Nothing bad! If I’m not supposed to interact with her, does that mean I should go and give back the gift she gave me?”

“She gave you a – give me that,” Lao Nie said. “This instant.”

“But a-die, you said there’s no harm in dangerous women –”

“For me, you foolish child!”

“I suppose it’s fine,” Lao Nie finally concluded, having inspected the dragon pearl from all angles several times over. “I don’t know how you do this, A-Jue.”

“Do what?”

Lao Nie thought about how his foxy second wife had cooed over his eldest son with a (slightly disturbing) fervor that she otherwise reserved only for eating snacks, and how viciously she’d dealt with anyone who’d even thought of interfering with Nie Mingjue in any way. He was fairly sure he himself had only survived his second marriage on account of having such a charming son.

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally said, mostly because he wasn’t entirely sure how to explain – or if he even entirely understood. “Anyway, it’s nothing dangerous. Rather the contrary! Dragon pearls like this are given to baby dragons to protect them.”

Nie Mingjue frowned. “What feeds on baby dragons?”

“…I think it’s mostly to protect them from themselves,” Lao Nie said, feeling a little uncertain about it himself. “And if it’s not, I don’t think I want to know, to be perfectly honest. There’s fighting evil, which is only right, and then there’s suicide, which is a waste – a wise man should know how to judge the difference between them. Anyway, that wasn’t the point I was trying to make.”

“It wasn’t?”

“It wasn’t, and you aren’t allowed to start worrying about the fate of theoretical baby dragons – I forbid it.” Nie Mingjue scowled. He’d probably started worrying already. “My point was actually that a pearl like this is a remarkably powerful protective tool for cultivators – one of those things that can only be found by chance and not made. Keep this on you, and you’ll never have to fear your opponent in battle.”

Nie Mingjue looked thoughtful.

“What do you want to do with that pearl, anyway?” Lao Nie asked after they’d gotten home and split up just long enough to take a nice long relaxing bath and gobble down dinner. “Do you want to put it in the treasury?”

Nie Mingjue blinked twice, which for him was practically the same as looking terribly shifty-eyed.

“You already did something with it,” Lao Nie deduced. “Something that isn’t using it as intended.”

“Oh, no,” Nie Mingjue said, looking shocked at the mere suggestion. “I’m definitely using it as intended.”

Lao Nie looked him up and down. “You’re not wearing it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t use it. Protection from your opponents in proper battle – that seems like cheating!”

Lao Nie felt a slight headache coming on. People who said they wanted a good boy for a son had no idea what they were getting themselves into, he reflected. Why couldn’t he have birthed a complete rascal instead?

“All right,” he said, instead of saying any of that because at the end of the day, bewildering as he might be, Nie Mingjue was his son and he loved him more than anything. “So what did you do with it?”

“I gave it to Huaisang.”

Lao Nie blinked. He supposed that really was using it for its intended purpose – protecting babies from themselves – although he suspected the dragon lady had been thinking of Nie Mingjue as the baby.

“Although…”

Lao Nie raised his eyebrows.

“…I think he may have swallowed it.”

My boys, Lao Nie thought, and had to sit down and hold his ribs because he otherwise feared he might split his sides from laughing so hard. Only my boys.

#mdzs #sect leader nie #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #boys

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nothorses · 2 years ago

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cw: mentions of suicidal ideation, transphobia

last night i took a lot of psychic damage by making the mistake of reading the replies of a pro-trans post on twitter; literally hundreds of people talking about how being trans makes me a groomer pedophile, wishing for my death, celebrating and using suicide statistics as a "gotcha" for a laugh

this morning i wake up and go to the blogs of people you recently reblogged to block them for my own sanity, and their tumblrs are just filled with posts mocking trans men for existing, wanting to talk about our issues, calling us wannabe perpetual victims because we have high rates of suicidal ideation.

fuck, dude. i know you're just a random tumblr blogger. im not asking for a therapy session, i have friends i plan on confiding in about these feelings. i just wish this message would reach someone on the fence about transandrophobia as a necessary term and realize what the other side of the argument is saying and doing is extremely harmful to people and just echoes violent transphobes in a softer voice; shut up, go away, disappear.

shit sucks, man. i feel awful.

It is really grim, tbh, and I think it helps a little to know that a lot of the folks saying these things have pretty explicit ties to baeddelism- either currently, or just in their backgrounds (and nowhere near denounced today).

Obviously that's not the only thing going on here; some of them never knew what baeddelism was, and still don't. The term is pretty old, the movement was pretty insular and short-lived.

But keep in mind that it also didn't come from nowhere: baeddelism was born from radical feminism, warped in such a way that it benefited a thin slice of relatively privileged* trans women. The ideas it came from were around before there was a specific name and movement for it, and the ideas it congealed have lingered long after the formal, named movement died out.

All that to say that these aren't exactly reasonable people to begin with.

Not only that, but a lot of the folks parroting those ideas don't really know what they're saying or why- like the original baeddel movement, there are people who exist tangential to the movement who also don't really know what it is or what it means, misunderstand the goals and ideals, and adopt the talking points because they sound progressive and the people around them are doing it. A lot of these people are confused, are only engaging because they lack the whole picture and/or are projecting genuinely good ideas onto a deeply harmful movement, and will likely either realize it's not what they think it is and leave, or lose interest if it loses popularity.

This stuff sucks, but it's never as bad or as dire as it can feel at times. There's nuance to it, and there's hope, and there are a lot of people actively working against it- y'know, like "transfem transmisogynists": people brave enough to be allies despite all the radfems in their own community calling them self-hating and bigoted for... not being a radical separatist.

We're not alone. Surround yourself with community that reminds you you're not alone and that you have hope, and try to remind yourself of all the progress we've seen so far.

( * Keyword "relatively": I'm referring to mostly white, thin, binary, medically-transitioned, passing, conventionally attractive, abled, etc. trans women. Obviously transmisogyny and transphobia is still a factor in their lives, and they do not experience privilege on the basis of being trans women.)

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defiedlife · 8 months ago

Text

"Music to my ears! How kind and humble of you to admit it. Maybe you'll take my advice the next time I have some to offer." He's only teasing, of course—though the offer of advice down the line is very much real, as it always is. He's never called attention to it in any way, but he's always been willing to offer his perspective on a job or situation, should she ask for it, and he'll only ask for something in return if he just so happens to need her assistance at the same time. It's still a little bit of give and take—as is the way of the corporate world—but minimal, all things considered. He often wonders if she'll ever catch on. He reaches up to accept the offered mug of tea, and again, feels a little chip form in his mask as he takes a sip. He might have written off the gesture of a cup of tea as something done solely out of courtesy, and yet that small smile stirs something within him. It's genuine, he quickly notes. The cat purring in his lap isn't the only one happy to see him, which is nothing short of mind boggling.

"Thanks for the tea...and I do believe you." How could he not, when her honesty is written all over her face? He's almost envious that she's able to wear her heart on her sleeve so openly, but fate had led them down two distinctly different paths. He can't begrudge her for something beyond her control. From in his lap, Coffee trills their desire for more attention, and he chuckles, resuming petting with his free hand. Leave it to his favorite among Topaz's little critters to bring him back to the present.

"I know exactly the glare you're talking about; seen it a time or two myself. But Opal and his brutish ways aside, whatever gave you the idea that I personally think you messed up? Did I say that?" He paused, letting the question briefly linger in the air for dramatic effect.

"If so, my apologies. I should clarify. You obviously did what you thought was right, and although those of higher rank—besides yours truly—think you screwed up, I don't agree with them. The situation with Jarilo-VI may not seem ideal from our department's perspective right now, and I don't agree with your methods, but I still think the way you handled things will pay its dividends down the line. The people there will be much more likely to cooperate with you further when an opportunity arises, and you can use that to your advantage. Assuming that opportunity comes along, no harm done."

"And they've still got their freedom," he almost adds, but keeps that thought to himself.

Again, he's surprised—this time when she meets his gaze so directly; not fearful, nor flinching, nor finding a way to break line of sight just a bit. It's absurdly foolish of her, for she must have heard the rumors regarding his eyes and origins, and the possibilities of what he could do right now are endless with the two of them alone. He, however, says nothing about it, and his eyes continue to lack the glow that would indicate his ability is in use. She's safe with him, and always will be. "Hm..." But safety does not mitigate harmless mischief, and a playful glint of it appears in his eyes. "Ahhh, yes, that mystery benefactor of yours that kept your punishment limited to little more than a slap on the wrist! I could just tell you if you really want to know so badly...but why don't we make it a little more fun than that?"

He grins, giving Coffee a pacifying scratch behind an ear before reaching into his pocket. A poker chip gleams in his grasp, effortlessly dancing between his fingers with a few deft motions. "This particular token is a little scuffed from regular use, with a prominent scratch on one side. That side can be 'tails' for our purposes today. So, what do you say? Call it, I'll flip it, and if you win, I'll tell you. Sound fair? It's not weighted, I promise. I don't cheat."

"Ugh - what do you want me to say, Aventurine? That you were right, and I should have listened to you? Fine, you were right. There. Happy now?" From the confines of the kitchenette attached to the living area of her quarters, Topaz huffs and puffs, more exasperated than truly annoyed at her coworker's little parade of triumph. Some people have great instincts, and happen to often be right on a lot of things. Aventurine happens to be one of those people - unfortunately, he also proves to be consistently frustrating about it. Grmbl.

The surprise visit had been unexpected; but, for all her exasperated eye rolls, not entirely unwelcome. A familiar face upon returning to Pier Point, when every one of her colleagues, superiors, and even subalterns, seem to have collectively decided to look at her as though she'd either grown a second head or committed some kind of perjury? Yeah, not the kind of triumphant return the Stonehearts usually garnered. At least, as much as Aventurine rubs it in her face, he's not actually guilt-tripping her about it. The kettle on the stove starts to whistle, and Topaz turns down the heat, before pulling two mugs and filling them with some much needed, much deserved tea; a small chuckle bubbling in her throat as he speaks.

"Heh - well, you might not believe me, but - thank you. That's at least one person who feels that way, yay me." Topaz sighs, as she returns to her guest (let it be known she will never be a bad hostess - even after a blunder, as he puts it). A small, fond smile blossoms at the corner of her lips as she hands him his cup of tea, eyes falling on the cat purring in his lap. "Someone looks happy to see you, huh." Funny that - Coffee had always been wary with strangers, but with Aventurine? From skittish cat to lap pillow. Go figure.

"You should have seen Opal's face when I was called in for a debrief. Maybe my blunder was worth it, just to see that glare once." Foregoing the couch, she settles on the fluffy rug at their feet, right by Aventurine's side; and just at the right height for one of her two dogs to come and unceremoniously settle on her legs like blood circulation is little more than man-made myth. Oof. "All jokes aside... maybe you and Opal and the rest think I messed up, but you know... I really don't regret a thing. It was worth a little demotion and a pay cut." She takes a sip from her tea, before turning to meet his gaze (so many rumours going around about those eyes -- none that she had had the chance to verify for herself. Aventurine is many things, but until he proves her wrong, what reason does she have to fear that gaze?). " ... you still won't tell me who my mystery benefactor was, I assume?"

#apocryphis #* || ic #* || aventurine #Ventium please your reply was SO GOOD and I love them oh my god #crying into my tea bc look at them bantering and bonding ;;;

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bluexiao · 3 years ago

Note

hello, I don't quite understand how to use this app. and I translated from Russian, if anything, please excuse me^^ you can write fluff with kazuha and reader how they spend time together after school or during please? have a good day <3

Modern AU After School Headcanons

THEMES: Modern AU, Fluff, Confessions, Hints of Friends to Lovers trope

NOTES: i originally wanted to do this as a drabble but i feel like i wouldn’t be giving much with just that so i hope you like these headcanons! thank you for the request and for the patience<3 and your english is perfect no worries :D

KAZUHA

If you’re friends and you like each other but still haven’t confessed to one another yet, then he will surely be the type of guy who would walk you to your home after school. Take note; even if he is not obligated to, or maybe his house is quite farther than yours, or any of that sort honestly.

He insists that this is to protect you from any harm, or that

“The winds blow fresher in this area, I’d hate to waste the opportunity of the calm breeze after the hecticity of school.”

Such a smooth-talker, it’s going to be incredibly hard not to fall for him deeper. He’d have his musings each and every day and you won’t even notice you’re already at your house because he’s just good at conversations?? And he’s a good company overall

I actually think that the trope I could associate him with is the Friends to Lovers trope. It fits him perfectly. Additionally, I do think he’d want to make friends and get to know you first before going beyond that.

Going back, he seems to be the type to doesn’t mind being invited to your house or maybe to go out somewhere like the park, strolls by a lake, or even window-shopping at malls

He would accompany you anywhere, and if you fancy something in the mall, he will surely remember them and casually gift them to you on your birthday, or maybe even tell you that

“It’s merely an advance gift for your birthdate, nothing more.”

There is something more, and he’s just waiting for the right time to confess it

Movie trips, definitely, especially when you expressed wanting to see this particular film or movie.

Above all however, he enjoys strolling down a park with you. The peace and freshness of the atmosphere, the coolness of the breeze brushing both of your skins, the lingering scent of rain in the wind, especially since it had rained earlier on

I won’t even be surprised if he confesses at that same park he goes with you everyday after school, finally finding the right time to do so

“Even as time passes, your beauty is beyond one could compare. Though our youth may vanish over time, I know you’ve already captured this heart of mine. Would you be so kind, for me to call you mine?”

He may have thought about those lines for quite sometime now

#genshin x reader #kazuha x reader #genshin drabbles #genshin oneshots #kazuha headcanons #kazuha drabbles #kazuha oneshots #kazuha x you #📘

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thebiscuiteternal · 3 years ago

Text

“Paper Scraps”

Post-Canon, Angst, Hurt/Comfort...ish?, Reconciliation, Discussion of Suicidal Ideation, Ghosts, Implied Sangyu, Mo Xuanyu Gets To Be Mourned, Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang Are Going Through It

Series Link on Ao3

__________

"To what do I owe the surprise visit?'' Nie Huaisang asks, and his voice is so devoid of emotion that Wei Wuxian has to bite back a shudder, suddenly very much aware that he is treading in completely new and potentially dangerous territory.

Nie-xiong is as dead as his beloved elder brother, and the Headshaker was nothing more than a mask. All that's left now is Nie-zongzhu, whom he knows nothing about and threatened the last time they actually spoke to each other in person.

Still, he sucks up his nerve and plasters on one of his usual careless smiles. "We need to talk, you and I. Just you and I."

"Wei Ying-"

He holds up a hand to cut off Lan Zhan's protest. "How about it?"

"And what, exactly, do you think there is for us to discuss, Wei-xiansheng? Have I not been behaving well enough for your liking?"

Ouch.

"Okay, I deserved that," Wei Wuxian says as he waves off his defensive husband and friend a second time, suddenly wishing he'd just snuck out and come alone.

Then again, that probably wouldn't have gone well either, judging by the wary looks he keeps getting from the handful of Nie disciples who linger defensively near their sect leader.

Okay... okay. No more trying to joke around. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, then straightens his back. "I'm here about Mo Xuanyu."

Nie Huaisang’s face betrays nothing, but the fan in his hand snaps shut with enough force that it's audible throughout the room. “Everyone, please escort our other two guests to the main gardens so that we may speak privately.”

“Zongzhu-” one massive bear of a man starts to protest.

At the same time Lan Zhan moves in front of Wei Wuxian to growl “We are not going anywhere,” and the tension in the room ratchets sharply to hair-on-end levels as the situation threatens to turn into a standoff.

Wei Wuxian pinches the bridge of his nose to stave off a building headache, then reaches out in an attempt to tug his husband back. “Lan Zhan. I’m the one who requested a one-on-one meeting, remember? Literally just now?”

“He cannot be truste-”

“Wei-gongzi, he might-”

“Enough,” Nie Huaisang snaps, the unexpected whip-crack of his voice making them all, a few disciples included, jump. “Let me remind all three of you that you came here and none of you are required to stay. In fact, today would be much improved if you didn’t.”

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian hisses.

Lan Zhan doesn’t budge, hand still tight on the hilt of Bichen. “If you harm Wei Ying-”

“Yes, yes, you and the Ghost General will cut me open and hang me with my own entrails just to start with,” Nie Huaisang replies irritably, giving a dismissive wave of the closed fan. “I’m well aware.”

Judging by the startled and utterly appalled looks that cross Lan Zhan and Wen Ning’s faces, that had decidedly not been on the list of options of what they might potentially do. But the descriptive suggestion does work to knock them off guard, and Wei Wuxian bites his tongue hard to keep his expression neutral as the two of them are herded out without any more fuss after Nie Huaisang makes a short gesture to his disciples. “You did that on purpose.”

Nie Huaisang turns without responding to the jibe at all and walks off towards another door.

Ouch again.

He trots after the other man and falls into step beside him as they enter a hallway that’s clearly not for public use. Part of him wants to ask where they’re going, if just to break the uncomfortable silence, but he keeps his mouth shut.

They finally stop at a door that, when Nie Huaisang slides it open, leads to a tiny garden so deep in the sect's keep that the back wall of it is cut into the mountain itself.

And in that little carved out cave, shielded from wind and rain and snow, sits a funeral tablet on a table shrine.

Wei Wuxian involuntarily sucks a sharp breath through his teeth at the sight of it, his hand coming up to clutch at his chest. Guilt wells up hot and stinging and bitter in his stomach, then higher into his throat. Dizzy, he sways on his feet and is only vaguely aware of the hands that catch him.

Once his resurrection had been revealed, everyone simply accepted him as “Wei Wuxian”, not “Wei-Wuxian-In-Mo-Xuanyu’s-Body”, seemingly having just... forgotten that the face he has now once belonged to someone else. He had grown so settled into this body that until the dreams had begun, he had barely given Mo Xuanyu a second thought.

But right at this moment, staring at the name carved into that tablet, held up by the one person left who had remembered- had loved the original owner of this body enough to memorialize him, he has never felt more like an invader in it.

His vision, gone fuzzy from the sickening torrent of emotion, slowly begins to come back into focus and, for just a moment, he is staring through Mo Xuanyu’s eyes into the worried expression of Nie-xiong before the lingering memory clears to the more neutral face of Nie-zongzhu.

He is on the ground, his head in the man’s lap, and the sudden urge to cry hits him hard. “Do you hate me?” he asks without meaning to, voice coming out plaintive and half-strangled by his effort to hold back the tears.

“You were the one who decided there was nothing left between us worth salvaging.”

“I did. And it was stupid. But that’s not what I mean, and you know it. Do you hate me for having this face?”

There is a pause, then a quiet sigh. “No, I don’t.”

“Why?”

“If it wasn’t you, it would be someone else. Or something else. Yu-er was…”

Nie Huaisang turns his head away, expression softening into a complicated mix sadness and pain, and Wei Wuxian finds himself thinking that while ‘his’ Nie-xiong might be dead, Mo Xuanyu’s Nie-xiong might still exist somewhere deep under the protective layers of Nie-zongzhu.

He swallows hard, then makes himself sit up and looks again at the tablet and its small offerings.

“Determined,” he says quietly, finishing the sentence. A tiny wet laugh bubbles out of his throat. “I thought… I really did believe that you had forced him into it,” he continues, and in the edge of his vision, he sees Nie Huaisang flinch at the accusation. “But no. No. He... really was determined to see it out to the end.”

“How do you-”

“Ah.” He scratches his cheek, then scoots to face the other man. “That’s actually the reason I needed to talk to you. I’ve been seeing- fuck, dreaming his memories, I guess… though they were more like nightmares, considering what was in them-”

“Wait,” Nie Huaisang says, holding up a hand. “When did this start?”

“Mmh. Just a little over ten months ago, I think? Or maybe closer to eleven. The first one was of your visit right after his mother died.”

Nie Huaisang goes slightly pale at that, though whether it’s from the admission of the length of time or the contents of the memory, Wei Wuxian can’t tell.

He gets an answer when Nie Huaisang gets up and rushes to the table, returning with something carefully cradled in his hands.

It’s a spirit pouch.

His hands are shaking as he holds them out to accept the tiny burden, and he’s vaguely aware that he’s gaping like a fish. “Huaisang…” he chokes out when he finally manages to find his voice again, but that’s as far as he gets.

“I… have studied a lot of ways of finding and contacting the dead,” Nie Huaisang says, and Wei Wuxian nods along numbly because that makes a ridiculous amount of sense, given the circumstances. “I know what the ritual notes said, but seeing that there was still something left of Da-ge after everything that had been done to him…”

He reaches out and touches the pouch and Wei Wuxian finds himself thinking of a gentle hand ruffling his (but not his) hair.

“I’m just sorry it took me two years to get up the nerve to go looking.”

But you went, Wei Wuxian thinks. You went.

He’d never even considered it. It had never crossed his mind at all.

“Eleven months ago, right?” he asks, voice still a little squeaky.

“Mm-hmm. I should have written to you about this long before now, but it seemed like every time I’d prepared myself to send the letter, something would happen that would remind me that… well.”

That we’re not friends anymore.

That you want nothing to do with me.

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and rests his hands in his lap, still holding the pouch as if it’s made of porcelain instead of cloth. “I probably wouldn’t have read it,” he confesses quietly. “Or I would have, but I wouldn’t have believed you. I would have thought it was a ruse, a setup-” A tiny, wounded laugh escapes his mouth and he tilts his head back to stare up at the sky. “Maybe that’s why I started having the dreams. His way of telling me I’m an idiot.”

“A little drastic on his part if it was.”

“Can’t say it wasn’t necessary.” The pouch gives a jangling, discordant little hum when he pets it, the fracturing of the soul within vastly different from what he’d felt from Xiao Xingchen. The pieces feel smaller and fewer, yet heavier. “Oh,” he murmurs when he realizes why.

“Oh?”

“The array was designed to consume the resentment of the caster based on negative memories of the person or persons they wanted to curse. That’s why the memories of you and the flashes of his mother were so vivid when the rest of them weren’t. That’s why you were able to find these pieces. He really did see you two as the only bright spots in his life, so those memories were spared.”

Nie Huaisang makes a choked noise in the back of his throat, and when Wei Wuxian turns his head, the other man is looking away in a clear attempt to hide his expression. “He was wrong.”

“A year ago, I would have agreed,” Wei Wuxian mumbles. “After everything he showed me, though… I don’t think he was. I get it.”

He takes a deep breath. He has never talked about this, not with Lan Zhan, not with Wen Ning, and certainly not with Jiang Cheng, even if they are taking tentative baby steps towards being less awkward around each other. He’s not sure he should be talking about it with Nie Huaisang either, but-

“I know what it’s like, just wanting everything to end. Deciding the whole world can go to hell. Maybe I didn’t intend for the backlash from breaking the seal to kill me, but I sure didn’t fucking care what it would do to me one way or another. Nothing and nobody could have saved me by that point. You couldn’t have saved him even if you’d dragged him home with you like Lan Zhan wanted to do to me.”

“Wei Wuxian-”

He ignores the little flutter in his chest that they’ve at least moved back to an address that feels less precarious than the icy ‘Wei-xiansheng’. “Let me finish, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So... So... Ah, fuck,” he mutters, gently shifting the pouch so he can scratch the back of his neck, trying to catch the lost trail of thought. “You know… I never questioned the clothing I woke up in when I was resurrected. As brutal and nasty as the Mo family were and as disgusting as that little shack was, it should have come off as weird that I was wearing such nice robes.”

There is a quiet sniffle, and Wei Wuxian pretends not to see Nie Huaisang wipe wet eyes with the edge of a sleeve as he continues talking. “He appreciated those. Appreciated that you tried to take care of him.”

He raises the pouch to eye level, and it gives another little crackly hum. “And clearly he still appreciates your efforts, considering his method of dragging me here to make me apologize for thinking the worst of your relationship. So, I’m sorry for that.”

Nie Huaisang gives a watery little chuckle and swipes at his eyes again. “Accepted. Is he… Is he alright? I only know how to contact souls, I don’t know anything about tending to them.”

“Honestly… I’m not sure what can be done,” Wei Wuxian admits as he begins another examination. “There’s really so little of him left, I don’t know what will happen if a purification ritual is attempted. He seems to be more stable as he is than Xiao Xingchen was, but there’s no guarantee he’ll stay like that. Still, I owe it to him to find some way to help him out, so I’ll do what I can.”

“If it would be easier for you to take him back to the Cloud Recesses for study, then… then you should,” Nie Huaisang says, and Wei Wuxian is a little bit impressed that he was able to make the offer despite how much it must have hurt.

“I think he’d be much happier staying here,” he says, then tentatively adds, “But that would mean visits, plural, and while I’m definitely going to have a very long talk with them about all this, I doubt I’ll be able to come without either Lan Zhan or Wen Ning… probably both at first.”

Nie Huaisang rubs his temples with his fingertips, his expression cycling through a complicated series of emotions too quickly for Wei Wuxian to follow, then he sighs. “We’ll figure something out,” he says as he reaches out and takes back the pouch.

Wei Wuxian can’t help smiling at the tender way he cradles it against his chest as he gets up to approach the funeral tablet and put it back in place. “Yeah. We’ll figure something out.”

#mdzs #wei wuxian #nie huaisang #mo xuanyu #not tagging the cameos #sangyu #fanfic

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