#so I am really really excited to discover I am physically capable of running a 5k | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pure-kirarin · 3 years ago

Text

Slow & Steady [P2] [Sabo x f!reader] (+18)

Genre : Romance - Smut - Bestfriends to lovers General warnings : Alcohol consumption - Dark themes - Swearing - S m u t - possessiveness - Mention of ex-relationships - jealousy

A/N : This is really different from my usual writing style but I am experimenting. Please tell me your thoughts and don’t hesitate to ask to be added to the tag list :) AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/31877203?view_full_work=true

In the last chapter -- «-Enough playing now, you're going to sleep. -B-but ! This wasn't what I asked for....You're really a coward after all...You virgin... » He carried you to his room, putting you on the bed and sitting next to you. «-I'd love to prove you wrong. However, it would be better if you were in a state where you'd be able to recall how good I am. If you want me to fuck you this badly then maybe ask me when you're sober.

Part I - Part II

Part II -Yeah yeah...Pff..You're no fun Sabo. Things were finally getting interesting ! »

He smiled seeing that you were now calmer. You started to yawn and bury your face in his pillow. He loved to see you getting so comfortable in his room. He really needed a cold shower after your little show. -Goodnight (Y/N). I'll sleep on the couch. You can get comfortable. -Are you crazyy ? You gonna leave me alone like this ? Let's sleep together~ -Come on (Y/N), you're a big girl. You could sleep alone for one night, would you ? Translation : I don't want to spend the whole night with a semi. And you're dangerously flirty, and I have wanted you for years and now I have to abstain.

-Pleaaaase. You said looking at him with puppy eyes. He rolled his eyes placing a hand in his hair. God.damn.it.

You won again. Like every time. * * * You opened your eyes hardly next day, feeling something hard against your thigh. You looked at the ceiling

Oh...I am not in my room...Where the fuck am I ?

you turn around only to discover the embodiment of Adonis to your side. A light beam was lighting up Sabo's face. He looked like an angel as his beauty couldn't be that of a human.

Was he always this handsome ?

You didn't know, in fact, you have never had the occasion to wake up in his bed. Wait, in his bed ? This realization came slowly as your head was still foggy from yesterday's consumption.

You looked down, the thing that was pressing against your leg was indeed :

his thing.

You frowned, blushed, pulled away, put a hand on your lips repressing an internal scream, all of this in around three seconds. You then tried to calm down, telling yourself that it was very normal for a man to experience this kind of morning unconviniences, and that Sabo was a man, after all. Even if you have always seen him as a bestfriend, he was still a man that is capable of physical attraction.

Now that this internal monologue was done with, you felt a bit calmer, but that didn't answer your question. You got out of bed, trying to recall what happened after going in the bar. And it came back. All of it. Without any mercy for your feelings.

You wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Your only wish was to disappear which meant : calling Nami. You headed out of the house, not even having the courage to face your bestfriend.

« Namiiiii -Uh ? What's the matter ? -I fucked up. I fucked up really bad. -Oh yeah ? Tell me about it. -Wait, why do you seem excited ? -O-oh I'm not excited. Come on tell me. What else could you have possibly done ? -I asked Sabo to fuck me. -Wait what ? You could hear Vivi ask Nami about what happened and her answering « She asked Sabo to fuck her ». -Nami ! Don't go on telling everyone about this. I'm on my way. -For starters, Vivi isn't « everyone », she's my girlfriend. And I'm here waiting for you to tell me what happened. -Wait, I'll come at your place. This can't be discussed over the phone. »

You hung up on her. Ten minutes later, you were at her place. Extremely confused. Nami was painting her nails bright red on the bed while Vivi was sitting comfortably on a chair. You let your whole body weight fall on a lounge pug, tourmented. «-So tell me how you and Sabo ended up fucking. She emphasized the last word in a way that made you almost choke on air. -We didn't actually. Nami and Vivi both sighed in a synchronized « Ah » of disappointment. -So hmm...I don't remember clearly. I was really drunk-- well that you're aware of and...And Sabo didn't want to leave me alone so we went to his place. Ace was at Thatch's so we were alone. We hugged and he comforted me. Then I started teasing him, and I don't know what I was thinking, but I kissed him, and then I asked him to fuck me. -Wow that escalated quickly. Said Nami as she continued painting her nails.

-Well, I was heartbroken, I needed something, someone, and he was there, and you know Sabo, he's a good guy ! I don't know what's worse, the fact that I asked him to fuck me or the fact that he said no.

-Oh god I'm so so sorry

- Nami please don't make things worse for me.

-No offense, but you're so dense. Sabo has always been into you. Do you want him, or do you not ? I know that going right into a relationship after a breakup is a bad idea. But honestly it's worth giving it a shot. He's a really good guy. Try dating someone nice for once.

-I don't know, he has something unsettling about him. Like « almost too good to be true » you know ? Added Vivi.

-Ohhh~ I see. Honestly, I always thought that he was a bit prude and hella vanilla. I mean, yes, he's my best friend. But he has never talked about girls to me or about sexual stuff. So I just assumed that. I never thought that he'd be packin' like that. You said as you popped a lollipop in your mouth.

-Ah ? Was it really that impressive ? asked Nami, genuinely curious.

-Yeah. On a scale from 0 to doflamingo he's a solid eight point seventy five. (*)

-Oh gosh. I understand why you're so worked up now.

-That's really...precise. Added Vivi, a bit horrified.

(*) [ The dear reader might need this clarification ; Doflamingo was Law's uncle, he sometimes came to pick him up after uni with his luxurious lamborghini. He wore extremely tight pants that left little to the imagination. And he was most known among your clique for having a nine incher. It was a running joke wether to know if Law got his uncle's genes. Needless to say that this joke wasn't to Law's taste. Now back to our adorable Y/N. ]

-So. I really don't know what to do. I am still heartbroken. -And horny. Added the ginger. -Yeah, that too. I'm afraid of ruining our friendship. -Listen dear, said Nami as she was closing the nail polish bottle, if you're not going for it, someone else would. And trust me, that girl Koala is upping her game. She's going to steal him right in front of your eyes, just like this - and she snapped her fingers. -Oh, and then, you can forget about being « best friends ». Said Vivi adding fuel to the fire. -Yeah, once he's gonna start dating, he won't have too much time for you-- and then, that Koala girl, my god, she seems extremely possessive ! -No way, your voice was detached, trying to act is if you weren't worried, Sabo has never dated any girl before.- -Yes but he seems to get along with that girl. And to be honest, she's kinda cute.

-Nami ! Vivi pinched her forearm playfully, pretending to be jealous.

-That hurt ! And don't be jealous, you know that you're my only one~

-Hmm...I prefer that. Vivi laughed. You started caughing reclaiming for their attention.

-Attention please ! We're discussing my dick-appointment here.

-Jesus you're really annoying, (Y/N), just go for it already.

-How much did he pay you to tell me this huh ?

-What ? He didn't pay me ! You're just always getting your heart broken. I'm just trying to be a good friend.

-Say that you are trying to get rid of her~ Jokes Vivi.

-Vivi, don't expose me like this- Nami plays along while laughing.

-I hate you girls ! You say as you throw a pillow on Nami. The ginger starts complaining that you messed her Nail polish, and the whole scene metamorphosed into a pillow fight.

* * *

You spent the whole day with the girls, chit-chatting about boys and girls and playing stupid games. You felt way more comfortable now, less ashamed. However, you were surprised because you didn't get a message from your bestfriend. You wondered wether he was mad at you, it wasn't in his habits.

You decided to message Ace [click for conversation] [ (Y/N) : Heyy amigo is Sabo ok ? Did he tell u smth abt yesterday ? Ace : Ouch, your hurting my feelings, </3 Only talking to me to ask about my brother~ Yea hes okay why tho ? (Y/N) : Ooo kay. He's home ? Ace : He is. Why don't u directly text him ? (Y/N) : Don't tell him I asked. Btw I didn't forget about those 10 bucks you « borrowed » from me. Give it back.] He didn't answer. You sighed and decided to go see Sabo to settle things down. It was the first time that you were embarrassed to see your best friend. You dressed up in a black skirt and t shirt. You didn't usually pay attention to your looks when you went to hang out at Sabo's, but you were really stressed out and what the girls have said about Koala made you scared of losing him. After all, you had some abandonment issues. You had to settle this down once and forever. You arrived at the guy's place, it was an apartment not so far from your own student flat. You knocked on the door and Ace opened : -Ohhh, (Y/N), he whistles, lookin' like a girl today huh ? -What are you implying you dumbass ? Where's Sabo ? -He's in his room with Koala.- -Wait what ? Koala ? What is she doing here ? Ace raised an eyebrow then said amused ; -I don't know, go ask him yourself. -You're useless as usual. -Always so sweet. You on your period or something ? -I didn't forget about my twenty bucks by the way. -I said I'm goin' to pay you back alright ? Now go talk to Sabo. You and Ace were always teasing each other in a brotherly way, but in reality, he really cared for you, it was just your usual way of communication. But it was true that knowing that Koala was in Sabo's room put you in a bad mood. You knocked on the door with a knot in your stomach. Did they start dating ? Was Sabo interested in her ? These ideas were torturing you. But why did you care anyways ? It was none of your business. He could date whoever he wants. You opened the door but there was only Sabo relaxing on his bed, still fully clothed. « - Sabo ?-Oh, (Y/N), what brings you here ? -Why ? Do I need a reason to see my best friend ? He sits on bed looking at you. He doesn't fail to notice your cute outfit, it was different from your usual sweatpants and hoodies, the way it complemented your figure was almost too much for him. Just that sight was driving him insane, but his face didn't betray his emotions, like always, he acted friendly, not an ounce of lust in his dark ebony eyes. You took place next to him. He smelled good, you thought. The same fresh minty smell as last time. Did he always smell this good ? -(Y/N) ?Huh ? Is everything okay ? His voice seemed concerned.He cared for you. And you had those stupid immature and posessive thoughts. Get a grip of yourself, (Y/N), you thought. -Oh yea-- wasn't Koala here ? Ace told me you were with her.

You tried so hard to act like you didn't care, but he knew you like the back of his hand. But still, he played along. -Hmm..Yes. She just left. I was going out as well. He says with a sweet smile, looking at his watch. You couldn't help but make a disappointed face. -But Sabo I wanted to - I'm really sorry (Y/N), let's talk later. He ruffles your hair and you close your eyes as he does so. You felt stressed out. What happened exactly ? You felt intimidated in his presence for the first time. You wanted him to stay and talk this out. It was a bit awkward for you now. You never thought too much. As he was going out of the room you held the fabric of his coat tight in your hand ; -Sabo- -Hum ? Need me to drop you somewhere ? -N-no. You let his sleeve go, realizing what you have just done, I'll stay a bit then go back home. Don't worry about me. -Alright then. See you later ? -Yeah. See ya. ]

You looked at Sabo go away and you followed him shortly after. Meanwhile Ace was sitting on the couch and watching some movies. You went back home and was quite tormented. It wasn't the right time to worry as you had your assignments and studies to deal with. On one hand, you didn't even have the time to think of your ex boyfriend and his cheating but on the other, you felt like you were let down by Sabo. But why ? He didn't do anything. He just found himself a new friend and a potential new girlfriend.

He didn't even talk about her, but why where you so upset by him meeting her ? After all, he had the right to date just like you always did.

A few days have passed and you didn't get the chance to talk to Sabo. Your exams were getting closer and closer and you didn't feel ready.

Usually, Sabo would help you with your assignments but you were too scared to ask. You realized how much you relied on him and how he has been always there for you.

Who were you exactly to him ?

Maybe you took him for granted.

As you were on your bed looking at the ceiling and trying to collect every drop of motivation in your system to study, you heard your phone ring. It was Sabo's ringtone ! ----- Tag list : @vemuabhi @chloe-abbacchio @mwls-garden @soanywaysistartedsimping If you wanna get tagged just ask for it :)

#one piece x reader #one piece imagines #one piece scenario #revolutionary sabo #sabo x reader #sabo x you #sabo #one piece scenarios #one piece sabo #one piece sabo x reader #nami #vivi #doflamingo #donquixote doflamingo #trafalgar law #nami x vivi #portgas ace #ace

170 notes · View notes

pochiperpe90 · 4 years ago

Text

Here comes “The Old Guard”. Marinelli goes to Hollywood, alongside Charlize Theron.

“Alone, fragile and immortal.”

A story of love, friendship and compassion with an ancient warrior and a young African American, who has just discovered she is immortal, as protagonists. Because the world needs women and courage knows no gender differences. 20 years after “Love & Basketball” and after “The Secret Life of Bees” and “Beyond the Lights - Find Your Voice”, Gina Prince-Bythewood comes to the action movie with very clear ideas on how to reinvent the rules. We talked to her over the phone while she was in Los Angeles during the lockdown.

A superhero movie that doesn't look like a superhero movie. Is that why you decided to make it?

Absolutely yes, when I read the script I realized that despite the fantastic genre there was a very realistic background. These characters are real and it's easy for the audience to relate to them despite being immortal. They fight for goals and reasons that people understand. The more realistic the film, the more viewers can reflect themselves in the protagonists.

In fact, the most fascinating aspect of the characters is their vulnerability: they are immortal, but up to a certain point, which is a paradox. They too have to deal with the sense of the end.

There is a possibility that they may die, that their immortality is interrupted, that they still suffer from their wounds, and this brings them closer to us. The public still feels sorry for them when they see them in danger.

Immortals suffer, and not just physically.

Many think that being able to live forever would be extraordinary, but no one asks what this really means. Immortality has consequences: it can be a gift, but it can also be a curse.

And we don’t know why immortality fell to them.

The thing I loved about the graphic novel and the script is the fact that there is no explanation. Not only do we not know it, but neither do the protagonists. But it is a trilogy and therefore there is still a lot to tell.

Could you offer your contribution to the script?

It was a great script, with great roles based on the graphic novel so I stayed very true to the text. With the author, Greg Rucka, we wanted to reflect on the fear of taking someone's life, the one that sometimes overwhelms soldiers in war, whose psychology is often neglected. Hollywood films have never been very concerned with this aspect, as if killing had no consequences. The protagonists are forced to kill, but if someone has been doing it for centuries, for others it’s the first time.

What struck you about Luca Marinelli?

I could talk about him for days, I love him, he's the actor that all directors dream of having on set. He loved the character and gave him life in a very credible way. Between him and Marwan Kenzari is born a great complicity, necessary between two people who have been together for centuries. Luca's eyes are full of soul, his Nicky is the heart of the group, he’s the most sensitive character of all of them.

Charlize Theron, who is also one of the producers, has an increasingly and more torn body.

Charlize has already played roles like this one, she is very credible in the genre of action and has been helpful to who had never faced it before. From her, who really worked hard, others learned to do the same. She is very credible in the role of a woman who lived for thousands of years.

Matthias Schoenaerts, on the other hand, has an insidious role.

He embodies the tragedy of immortality, loneliness, betrayal. He is the actor who most resembles his character in the graphic novel. He wanted to make the film at all costs because he had never measured himself with the action genre and felt he had things to express.

The film underlines how today it’s no longer possible to hide, images can capture you at any time.

In a scene near the end, when the immortals look at photos and articles about them, they truly become aware for the first time of everything they have done to protect humanity. They understand the power of images from which they continually try to escape in order to hide their identity.

And then we talk about science and profit.

In the film, people from different places join forces to protect the world, a need even more relevant today. Yet it is increasingly evident that profit matters more than human lives.

Do you think the film industry is becoming more inclusive with women?

Things are finally changing and I am grateful that, despite having no other action films on my resume, I have been entrusted with The Old Guard. I am grateful for the trust they have placed in me. It should be taken for granted by now that women are capable of coping with any film genre and I think how much pressure from the industry Patty Jenkins, who directed Wonder Woman to success and opening the door for many of us, went through. But the door must be wide open because there are still few who have such opportunities.

In your opinion, have opportunities grown with the arrival of platforms like Netflix?

Netflix wasn't afraid to trust a series of directors. Which studio would have produced Roma or Irishman? He has the courage to make films that Hollywood deems too risky.

The Golden boy

“Luca Marinelli, as we have never seen him before: in his Hollywood debut, he becomes an immortal and fights with Charlize Theron to save the world.”

Just before the lockdown he was one of the jury members of the 70th Berlinale in the city where he has lived for years - and he swears he had so much fun watching three films a day. The audience awaits him in theatre in the role of Diabolik, in the film directed by Manetti Bros., but on July 10th he arrives on Netflix with The Old Guard, the action movie that sees him alongside Charlize Theron. And where he plays the Italian Nicolo, Nicky for the group of immortals he belongs to. Directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood and based on the graphic novel by Greg Rucka and Leandro Fernández, the film offers Luca Marinelli an insidious superpower, an endless love and a new opportunity to demonstrate his talent as a true champion. We reached him on the phone and he, less shy than usual, told us how he became a secular "superhero".

How did you get to the project?

I auditioned in London, where I later returned and met the director. Lastly, there was a final meeting between me and Marwan Kenzari. We made a scene together and then they announced to me, "We'd love for you to be Nicky."

What struck you about this character?

The story fascinated me because it tells of immortals as if they were the damned. Nicky and Joe live this condition as a gift because they are linked by a wonderful love story and they are not alone. They met in an absurd and paradoxical situation, during the Crusades, ready to kill themselves. They did it a hundred times and then they looked at each other and fell in love. But others suffer from it, like Andy and Booker. In a beautiful scene, Booker, played by Matthias Schoenaerts, explains what happens to them: they see the people they love die and blame them because they cannot prevent it. And they are tired of watching the world repeat itself following the same dynamics. They fight to save people, but everything seems to go on the same way. Only in the end will they discover what they have done and what they are doing.

How did it go with Charlize Theron?

Well, it was wonderful! As I read the script I said to myself: am I really going to make a film with Charlize Theron? And hug as well! I was very excited and intimidated already while reading. She is an extraordinary actress. In the scene where we are at the table and everyone tells Nile something about us, Andy tells her what we are and it was nice to see her running and venturing into the midst of emotions and thoughts. Sometimes I got distracted and didn't say my line. But Charlyze is also a crazy athlete. You have to be really athletes, otherwise you don't survive at the end of the day. And Charlize is an athlete of the body and the heart.

What about her athletic training?

We got together a month before shooting to start working with the stunts. I had to get some athleticism back: when I arrived and they looked at me I think they were a little worried. We had to become familiar with martial arts and then we switched from the sword to other weapons and to hand-to-hand combat. We prepared scene by scene, including the choreographies, different for each fight, and each of us had his own rubber reproduction of the sword. It was an unforgettable training.

The immortals come from different places in the world. How much of Italy is there in Nicky?

Apart from the pronunciation? They still laugh at some of the things I said. Marwan and Matthias, but also Charlize, speak Italian at different levels and every now and then I enjoyed shooting a few sentences to which they could answer me.

Did you offer your character something that wasn't in the script?

Well, being in such a group, shy as I am ... I tried. I have always focused on the bond between Nicky, Joe and the other members of the group, because I am interested in discovering what is inside a character, his feelings, how he looks at the world, what excites him. Nicky has lived for centuries, but still greets the people he meets in the desert with a smile, inside him there is the flame of an infinite good. Each character has a different sensitivity and their own armor. Nicky is perhaps the least armored one.

The challenge was also to make people believe in a love story that has lasted for centuries.

Marwan recites a beautiful monologue in which he talks about their love story. I hope that each of us, in their short life, can say the same thing about the person they love.

You’ve already had superpowers in “They Call Me Jeeg”. What is your relationship with this genre?

I like it very much and I think that both films, very different from each other, have a very interesting soul. In Jeeg Robot, Enzo Ceccotti uses his superpowers to help others, taking on a social responsibility. In The Old Guard the protagonists put themselves at the service of others, even if no one has asked them to. “This is what we do,” they repeat over and over to each other. What they do is save people, participate in what they think is right.

How do you think they would react to protests on American streets and around the world?

I don't feel like playing games, mixing reality and fiction on a terribly real subject like this. I think that in reality, outside of any cinematic fiction, it’s fundamental to fight for equality, within society, but also within ourselves. To go back to our film, if in a microscopic way we manage to carry a message in that direction, I would be very happy.

What director was Gina Prince-Bythewood?

She is always ready to listen, and I am someone who asks a lot of questions even at inappropriate times. She always had great patience and was very attentive to the emotional side of the film, to the interiority and beauty of the characters.

CIAK Magazine - Luglio 2020

Just wanted to translate this old interview for the non-italian’s fans ^^ (sorry for my English)

#Luca Marinelli #marwan kenzari #Charlize Theron #gina prince bythewood #Matthias Schoenaerts #the old guard #TOG #TOG Cast #Film #netflix #magazine #movie #interview #english #english translation #mine #joenicky #joe x nicky #Immortal husbands

546 notes · View notes

scxrlettwxtches · 3 years ago

Text

a life with you | hwang hyunjin

genre: assassin au, epilogue(?), inspired by @chaninfused “row, row, row your boat” universe

description: when you have doubts about your future with hyunjin, the assassin is more than happy to reassure you that all he wanted was to be with you.

word count: 2.8k+

a/n: i am officially a month late and terribly sorry, furat dear. TT happy (very belated) birthday to you! thank you so much for screaming with me about hyunjin, rrryb, and everything else in between. most of all, thank you for being such a dear friend. <3 i really hope you enjoy!

For the first time since Hyunjin became your friend, your confidante, and then your darling, doubts about your relationship began to fester into gnarly thorns, sitting in the deep recesses of your heart.

It didn't have anything to do with your love for Hyunjin. On the contrary, your love for the man was stronger than ever, built upon a bond of trust and deep care for one another. Hyunjin had stood by your side through the highs and the lows, just as you had watched him discover what it means to love someone, watched him discover that he himself was capable of being loved.

No, your doubt stemmed from an instinctual fear that the two of you were simply not compatible because you would never be able to assimilate into the lifestyle he grew up in.

You thought you could do it, at first. After all, what's so hard about being well off? What's so hard about being able to splurge a little extra money on your clothes, your food, your overall lifestyle?

You quickly learned that noble life wasn't quite as simple as that.

For one thing, it was overwhelming to the highest degree. Ever since you agreed to attend the banquet with Hyunjin as his significant other, you'd been thrust into an endless cycle of dress fittings, shoe fittings, and practically any other type of fitting that exists. The party itself was also an overstimulation of all your senses; there was so much to see, so much to comprehend and hear and say that it all just got a bit too much for poor you.

So that was why you were here alone, standing on an empty balcony to find some fresh air, some quiet, and some peace. The wind felt nice against your skin in comparison to the stuffy rooms and banquet halls, and you couldn't help but wonder guiltily if you could head home by yourself. You didn't want to bother Hyunjin, of course, who was born noble and was probably enjoying himself.

“Oh, thank goodness, I've finally found you!”

As if the stars had heard you, Hyunjin stepped out into the balcony, his expression wrought with relief as he made his way towards you, taking your hands in his.

As you gazed upon him, those long lashes, those soft lips, and above all, those gentle eyes that held nothing but love, affection, and concern as he studied your face, you found yourself once again falling deeper in love with him, as if that was even possible.

“Why did you abandon me in there?” The assassin almost whined, and you fought back a smile as you rubbed your thumbs against the back of his hands.

“I just needed some air, and you seemed preoccupied,” you explained, ducking your head slightly as Hyunjin shrugged off his long coat and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“But you didn't need to escape so quickly without telling me,” he argued like a petulant child when his eyes suddenly flashed with a sharpness that you hadn't seen in a while, “Unless...did something happen?”

Damn Hwang Hyunjin and his ridiculously fine-tuned awareness.

You shook your head, running your hand up and down his arm, “Nothing happened,” you smiled soothingly.

“But you look unhappy,” he insisted, cupping your cheek with his gentle hands, worry filling his dark brown irises, “My darling, please tell me what is wrong.”

Inside, Hyunjin was panicking. He knew you better than he knew himself, and he knew the look of uncertainty on your face when he saw it. Were you beginning to have second thoughts about him? Was being with him becoming more of a burden than a blessing to you? Was the constant little weight in his coat pocket something that he’ll have to throw away soon?

Logically, Hyunjin was almost sure that any of those possibilities weren't true. You loved him, and you loved him dearly. The two of you have been through thick and thin together, and he knew your love for him was as deep as the darkest oceans and as pure as the sunrise sky. But yet, the coil of doubt could not totally recede from his mind. After all, you were always so much more than he could ever dare ask for.

“Hyunjin,” you spoke softly, your smile so knowing that the assassin felt more at ease just at the sound of your voice, “Relax.”

“So something is wrong, my love?”

You sighed, cursing at Hyunjin’s endearingly insistent nature. Hyunjin was a fixer at heart. Whatever was bothering him, whatever was bothering the people he loved, he was proactive about finding a solution. He’d go to the ends of the earth to find one if need be, which was what he did for your precious daughter all that time ago.

But this, this wasn’t a problem that you were sure he could fix.

“I don’t know if this is going to work, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin had never experienced such physical heartache until this very moment. His eyes widened with alarm, a terror that he could hardly keep clamped down, but ever the gentleman, he waited for you to finish before interjecting.

“I know you were so eager to introduce me into this world, to give me luxury that I didn’t experience before, but truthfully, I don’t enjoy this lifestyle,” you confessed, gesturing to the ballroom where the party was still ongoing, where the lords and ladies chatted and drank the night away, “It’s stifling for me, Hyunjin. But this is your life, and I don’t want to take that away from you--”

You found your answer in the searing kiss that closed the gap between his lips and yours. Hyunjin’s kisses were passionate, palettes of red and orange that swept you off your feet time and time again, but they weren’t all consuming. His fire was warm, homely, loving, and you quickly found yourself wondering why you had any doubts in the first place.

“Is that what was worrying you?” He murmured, pulling away with bright eyes as he brushed the hair away from your face, “That I wouldn't want to leave this life for you?”

“Oh, I didn't doubt that you'd leave if that was what I truly wanted,” you assured him, your hands resting against his chest as he listened intently to every word you said, “And that worried me. I don't want to make you choose between me and your life here.”

Hyunjin shook his head, brushing your cheek with his gentle, yet calloused fingers, “You've got it all wrong, my darling,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours for a short moment before pulling away, “Come with me?”

Confused, excited and only slightly worried, you followed him wordlessly, placing your safety in his hands without question, as you've always done. Hyunjin led you back inside the estate, but not back towards the party that you were so obviously trying to avoid. Instead, he took you somewhere the music seemed to blend into the peaceful silence and where the mindless chatter faded into nothingness.

"Am I even allowed to be here?" You were pretty sure you had no need to whisper, but you still found yourself doing it.

“I'm allowed, so you're allowed by association,” Hyunjin said with a smile, brushing a strand of your hair away from your face as he laced your fingers together, tugging you down the hallway until he stopped at a particular room.

“Miss?” He bowed dramatically, making you giggle as he opened the door, pulling you in.

You looked around the space, a quaint little thing with a small office desk and a simple bed, but everything was clearly expensive and high quality. Even though most of the design and decor was quite minimal, there were little touches like the choice of wooden, the scent of the candle, the distinct stuffed animal that you remembered was once Nari’s. It all just screamed Hyunjin.

“Is this your room?” You asked with a soft laugh, brushing your fingers against the wooden surface of his drawer before picking up the small stuffed bear.

“Yes. I didn't need much space, and I'm not here often, so I just took one of the smaller guest rooms,” Hyunjin chuckled before turning and seeing you with the familiar stuffed animal in your hands. His expression morphed into one of nostalgic happiness at the memory of someone that meant the world to him and pain at the reminder of his own failure, “Oh, that was one of Nari's stuffies.”

“I remember,” you found yourself smiling sadly, lost in the memories as you squeezed the stuffed animal gently.

Hyunjin walked over, eyes distant as he gently placed his hand on it's head, “Wherever I used to watch over Nari while you ran errands, she always wanted me to play with this stuffed animal in particular,” he chuckled softly, “I always want to have a part of her in my life, so I held onto it. I hope that's alright with you.”

Your eyes watered as you gazed up at the man who you loved unconditionally. Such a gentle soul, a person who'd treasure all that were close to him, a man who had such a natural instinct to nurture and care for others.

“Of course, it's alright,” you smiled, placing the stuffed animal down, “I-it's more than alright. She always loved it when you came around to see her.”

Hyunjin chuckled, wiping the corner of your eye with a delicate swipe of his finger before gently guiding you to his desk, “Close your eyes, my darling.”

“Why?” You raised a suspicious eyebrow as your hip leaned against the desk and Hyunjin stood before you.

“Because!” His lips curled into a pout, “I have a surprise for you.”

“You better not have bought me another shawl, darling. I don't mind that the last one got a small tear in it,” you berated him preemptively, worried that Hyunjin had fallen back into his habit of overly indulging you for the sake of making you happy.

Hyunjin’s eyes sparkled, and you wondered briefly if he was the only person who seemed to enjoy being nagged at, “Just close your eyes, darling. Please?”

Oh, he wasn’t playing fair anymore, not as he flashed those irresistible puppy eyes, and you could do little more than let your eyes flutter shut. You felt his hands take yours, guiding you to open your hands with your palm facing upward. Giddy with anxiety, your confusion was palpable as you felt a featherlight weight fall into your hands.

“Alright, open.”

When you opened your eyes, you could barely hide your puzzled expression as you inspected the piece of paper that Hyunjin placed in your hands. Unfolding it, you scanned through the contents to get to the chase and then--

The paper fell to the ground as you let out an audible gasp, whipping your head up to glance at your lover. It was his sheepish, excited and slightly anxious expression that truly made it real to you.

“Was that a good gasp or a bad gasp?” He asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“It’s…” you swallowed, still trying to sort through the plethora of emotions that were clouding your mind, “it’s real.”

Hyunjin couldn’t fight his smile, realizing that he’d made you speechless for one of the first times in his life, “It is, darling.”

“B-but, it’s right in that secluded area outside of town, the place that I always--” you spun around to face Hyunjin, utterly dumbfounded, “How did you know?”

The assassin laughed, picking up the deed which you had rather unceremoniously dropped on the floor, “We were taking the carriage back to your bakery once, and I noticed the way you looked at the cottages in that area. Plus, you mentioned once that you’d want to live a simple and secluded life, and this location fit your description quite perfectly. It’s nothing really--”

Your lips pressed against his as you shut him up with a sweet kiss, cupping his cheeks and holding him close, “I love you,” you murmured without an ounce of hesitation as you pulled away from Hyunjin, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

Hyunjin looked dazed, utterly lovestruck as he gazed into your eyes, pulling you towards him as he sat on the edge of his desk, “Do you like it?” He asked softly, playing with your fingers and making you smile. Oh, Hyunjin, always so eager to please, so eager to do things right for you, to make your life easier. You wondered how you ever deserved such a lover.

“I do,” you smiled softly, looking down at your hands.

“It’s a small cottage, but it has enough space for us and...more...if that situation ever arises,” Hyunjin’s ears seemed to redden, and your heart skipped a beat as you realized what he was so gently insinuating.

“I love it,” you whispered, watching as your fingers laced together.

Hyunjin’s eyes brightened, “You do?”

“I do,” you smiled at his eagerness, “Do you? Do you want this life? I won’t fault you at all if you do not--”

“Oh, my darling,” Hyunjin murmured, gazing into your eyes as you drowned in his loving gaze, his bottomless affections for you that gave you the butterflies even after so long, “When will you realize that I want nothing more than to live a quiet, simple life with you? When will you realize that some of my most treasured moments were with you and Nari in your cramped little bakery? All I've ever wanted was to find a nice, quaint little location that wasn't too far from the town, and for us to grow old there together…”

Your eyes welled with unshed tears as you brought his hand to your lips, kissing it gingerly, “That’s all I want, too,” you confessed, “I want to live quietly and happily with you, put our suffering behind us…”

Hyunjin was silent for a moment before he tugged you towards him, “If that’s what we both want,” he trailed off, red dusting his cheeks as he looked down, “would you like to get married?”

It wasn’t a sudden proposal. Hyunjin and you had vaguely mulled over the idea for months now, especially since it was becoming increasingly clearer that the two of you loved no one but each other. But to hear those direct words falling from his lips, with no lighthearted quips or jabs to deflect the sincerity of it, it utterly floored you.

The assassin took your silence for doubt, and he looked back up at you with shining eyes, “I know you had bad experiences with your past marriage. My line of work isn’t exactly stable either. But, Y/N, I’ll spend my life showing you that a future with me will be worth your while. Would you,” he swallowed nervously, “would you let me do just that, my darling?”

“Oh, darling,” you murmured, reaching forward and cupping his cheek with your hand. He leaned into it almost desperately, “You have nothing to prove, nothing to show. We’re equals in this relationship,” you smiled, standing on your tiptoes and gently pecking him on the nose, “And yes, I’d love to marry you, Hyunjin.”

The childlike sparkle in his eyes made you giggle as you watched him physically process your words. Slight confusion, then disbelief, then awe.

“Really?! Oh, my love, I’m so happy!” Hyunjin lifted you in his arms, spinning you around as you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. When he placed you down, he fumbled around in his back pocket, eyes wide, “I-I can’t believe I forgot this! We were having such a soft moment and the question just slipped out of my mouth--”

Giggles burst from your lips as Hyunjin finally managed to pull out a black velvet box, revealing a small, simple, yet priceless diamond ring. It was so undeniably Hyunjin to get so caught up in proposing that he’d forget to present the engagement ring to you, and you found the two of you chuckling about it up until he gingerly slipping the silver band onto your third finger.

“Oh, I do have a request from Jisung, who wants to be present at the wedding,” Hyunjin said when the two of you were finally curled up in his bed, embracing each other’s warmth.

“I’d be happy to invite him,” you chuckled, looking down at your finger and at the glimmering stone that now rested on it, “It’s beautiful, by the way. The ring.”

Hyunjin smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your hair, “I passed a jewelry shop when I was running some errands for your bakery, and it just reminded me so much of you,” he said, brushing his fingers across is, “Elegant and beautiful.”

“Such a flatterer,” you complained to hide the heat in your cheeks.

“Oh, no no. There will be much more of that now that we’re engaged,” Hyunjin teased, tickling your waist, “I hope you’re prepared.”

And you were prepared, alright. All of the trials, tribulations, and the joys of marriage, you were ready for all of it as long as Hyunjin was by your side.

fin.

#i hope you liked it furat! :>#happy belated birthday!#stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #hwang hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin imagine #hwang hyunjin oneshot #my fics

144 notes · View notes

variousqueerthings · 3 years ago

Text

Daniel LaRusso: A Queer Feminine Fairytale Analysis Part 1 of 3

Disclaimers and trigger warnings:

1. These fairytales are European, although there’s often overlap in themes globally. I know European fairytales better, which is essentially the reason I’m not going to branch out too far. I opted to also stick to Western movies so as not to narrow things down, but also in particular “waves hand towards all of Ghibli” amongst many others. There’s a reason the guys in Ghibli are so gender.

2. TW for discussions of rape culture and rape fantasies

EDIT: FUCK I’M A GOBLIN CHILD! FORGOT TO PUT A MASSIVE MASSIVE THANK YOU TO @mimsyaf WHO HAS BEEN THE NICEST, KINDEST EDITOR ON THESE THOUGHTS AND CONTRIBUTED SO MUCH TO THEM AND GENERALLY IS A WONDERFUL PERSON!

Part 2

Part 3

1. Introduction

I recently wrote a little thing, which was about Daniel as a fairytale protagonist – specifically one that goes through some of the kinds of transformations that are often associated with female protagonists of fairytales.

I used quotes from Red Riding Hood, Labyrinth, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, and Dracula, which, as an aside – the overlap between fairytales, horror, and fantasy and the ways each of those genres delve into very deep, basic questions of humanity and the world is something that will always make me feral. I will be generally sticking with fairytales though. Also I am very excited about some of those Labyrinth concepts going around!

I’m going to use “feminine” and “masculine” in both gendered (as in relating specifically to people) and non-gendered (as in relating to codes) ways throughout this, depending on context.

To be binary for a moment, because sample-sizes of other genders are low, women are usually able to fall into either feminine or masculine arcs, although sometimes the masculine-coded woman can become a “not like the other girls” stereotype and the feminine-coded woman a shallow cliché – in both cases they’re also under more scrutiny and judgement, so it’s always worth asking “is this character not working for me because of the writing or because I have ingrained biases? (Both?)”

Men don’t often get feminine-coded arcs. Because. Probably a mix of biases and bigotry. But there are some that seem to have slipped beneath the shuttered fence of “Sufficient Narrative Testosterone,” and Daniel LaRusso is one of them.

2. Some Dude Comparisons (Men Doing Manly Action-Hero Things like being trans symbolism and loving your girlfriend… seriously those things are hella manly, I wish we saw more of that onscreen…)

a. Neo

Much like Neo The Matrix, whose journey is filled with transgender subtext and specifically and repeatedly references Alice In Wonderland, Daniel doesn’t go through quite the kind of hero's journey usually associated with Yer Standard Male Hero, especially the type found in the 80s/90s.

Neo is my favourite comparison, because of the purposefulness of his journey as a trans narrative and the use of Alice. But I’m sure there are other non-traditional male heroes out there (but are they trans tho? Please tell me, I want trans action heroes).

Neo “passes” as a socially acceptable man, but online goes by a different name - the name he prefers to be known by - feels like there’s something inherently wrong about the world around him and his body’s place in that society, and then gets taken down the rabbit hole (with his consent, although without really “knowing” what he’s consenting to) to discover that it’s the world that’s wrong - not him. And by accessing this truth he can literally make his body do and become whatever he wants it to.

Yay. (The message of the Matrix is actually that trans people can fly).

Neo is – kind of like Daniel – a strange character for Very Cis Straight Guys to imprint on. He spends most of the first movie unsure about what’s going on, out of his depth, and often getting beaten up. He is compared to Alice several times and at the end he dies. He loses. He has to be woken up with true love’s kiss, in a fun little Sleeping Beauty/Snow White twist. Yes, after that he can fly, but before that he’s getting dead-named and hate-crimed by The Most Obvious Stand-In For Normativity, Agent Smith, and being carried by people far more physically capable than he is (people who also fall outside of normative existence).

Trinity and Neo in The Matrix. The fact that a lot of the time neither of them is gendered is something. Literally brought to life by true love’s kiss.

I’m not about to argue that Daniel LaRusso is purposefully written along these same thought processes, so much as the luck of the way he was written, cast, directed, acted, and costumed all came together in the right way. And this is even more obvious when compared to That Other Underdog Fite Movie That Was By The Same Director as Karate Kid.

b. Rocky

The interesting thing about Rocky is that he is (despite being a male action icon) also not written as a Traditionally Masculine person. Large portions of Rocky – and subsequent Rocky films – are his fear and insecurity about fighting vs his inability to apply his skills to another piece of work and wanting to do right by his girlfriend (and future wife), Adrian. The fighting is most often pushed onto him against his will.

Much like in Karate Kid there is barely any fighting in Rocky I. Most of it is dedicated to how much Rocky loves Adrian and the two of them getting together. The fight is – again like in Karate Kid – a necessary violence, rather than a glorified one (within the plot, obviously watching any movie like this is also partly about the badassness of some element of the violence – whether stamina or the crane kick, it’s all about not backing down against a more powerful opponent).

Rocky is played by Sylvester Stallone. He’s tough, he’s already a fighter (albeit in the movie not a great one yet), he’s taking the fight for cash – so although he’s also soft-spoken and sweet, you’re aware of the fact that he’s got those traits that’d make a male audience go “Hell Yeah, A Man,” or whatever it is a male audience does watching movies like that… cis straight men imprinting on oiled muscle men sure is a strange phenomenon, why do you wanna watch a boxing match? So you can watch toned guys groaning and grappling with each other? Because you want to feel like A Man by allowing yourself to touch the skin of other men?

Apollo and Rocky in Rocky III. This sequence also includes prolonged shots of their crotches as they run. Sylvester Stallone directed this. This was intentional. Bros.

Daniel LaRusso is not built like that. But that doesn’t really have to matter. Being smallish and probably more likely to be described as “pretty” than handsome, and not having a toxic masculine bone in his body does not a feminine archetype make. It just makes a compelling (and pretty) underdog.

c. Daniel

So where does the main difference really lie? Between Rocky and Daniel? Well, Rocky has the plot in his hands – Daniel, largely, does not. Rocky is acting. Daniel is reacting or being pushed into situations by others. Just like our boy Neo. Just like Alice in Wonderland, Cinderella, Snow White – just like some of the women in some contemporary(ish) fairytale films like Buttercup (Princess Bride), Dorothy (Wizard of Oz), or Sarah (Labyrinth).

This isn’t a necessary negative about stories about girls and women, so much as looking at what it is girls and women in fairytales have/don’t have, what they want, and how they’re going to get it. It’s about power (lack of), sexuality (repressed, then liberated), men, and crossing some taboo lines. It’s also about queerness.

3. The Karate Kid Part One: Leaving Home

Daniel LaRusso is a poor, skinny, shortish kid (played by a skinny, shortish twenty-two-year old) who doesn’t fit in after having been taken away from the home he was familiar with against his will. Not every male protagonist in a fairytale leaves of his own will, and not every female protagonist leaves under duress – Red Riding Hood, for example, seems perfectly happy to enter the forest. However generally a hero is “striking out to make his fortune,” and generally a heroine is fleeing or making a bargain or being married off or waiting for help to arrive. She is often stuck (and even Red Riding Hood requires saving at some point).

Daniel then encounters a beautiful, lovely girl on the beach, puts on a red hoodie (red is significant), is beaten up by a large, attractive bully, loses what little clout he may have had with his new friends, and generally has a mostly miserable time until he befriends and is saved by Mr Miyagi. To do a little Cinderella comparison: Miyagi is the fairy godmother who pushes Daniel to go to the ball in disguise as well, and that disguise falls to pieces as he’s running away.

Then Daniel asks for help, Miyagi gets him enrolled in a Karate Tournament, and starts teaching him. Daniel wins the tournament and gets the girl, the end.

While Daniel has chutzpah and is a wonderful character, none of the big events are initiated by him, except for the initial going to the forest/beach (and within all of these events Daniel absolutely makes choices – I’m not saying he’s passive): Lucille takes them to California, Miyagi pushes him to go to the dance, Miyagi again decides to enroll him in the tournament and trains him, and only because Kreese doesn’t allow for any other option, Ali is the one who more often than not approaches Daniel, and even their first encounter is pushed by Daniel’s friends.

Daniel really is at a dance/ball in disguise and receives a flower from a girl who recognises him through said disguise, it’s unbearable! It’s adorable! I get it Ali, I fucking get it!

Daniel’s main journey within this – apart from not getting killed by karate thugs (love u Johnny <3) and kissing Ali – is to learn from Miyagi. He’s not necessarily a full-on feminine fairytale archetype at this point, although there are fun things to pull out of it, mainly in the context of later films and Cobra Kai: the subtext of karate and how that builds throughout all the stories, the red clothes, the themes of obsession, his being targeted by boys whose masculinity is more than a little bit toxic and based on shame… more on all that coming up.

He doesn’t technically get a home until they build him a room at Miyagi’s place, but he definitely leaves the woods at the end of this one, trophy lifted in the air after being handed to him by a tearful Johnny and all.

And then they made a sequel.

4. The Karate Kid Part Two: Not Out Of The Woods Yet

Daniel’s won the competition, Kreese chokes out Johnny for daring to lose and cry, more life-lessons are given (for man without forgiveness in heart…) and Daniel and Ali break-up off-screen, confirming that TKK1 was not really about the girl after all, which, despite Daniel and Kumiko having wonderful chemistry, is also an ongoing theme. Daniel enters the screen in The Most Baby-Blue Outfit seen since Tiana’s dress in Princess and the Frog? Or that dress in Enchanted? Maybe Cinderella’s (technically silver, but later depicted as blue)?

(Sidenote: At everyone who says Sam ought to wear a callback to that suit, you are correct and sexy).

Surprise, Miyagi’s building him a room.

Double-surprise, Miyagi needs to go to Okinawa.

Triple surprise, Daniel reveals he’s going with him, because he’s his son dammit.

The Karate Kid Part Two is maybe the least Daniel-LaRusso-Feminine-Fairytale-Protagonist of the three, because it’s not really his movie. Daniel runs around with Kumiko (aka the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen), continues to be The Best Non-Toxic Boy a middle-aged Okinawan karate master could ask for, lands himself another Built Karate Rival (twice is just a coincidence, right? Right?), and eventually doesn’t die while wearing red again – twice: When Chozen almost strangles him to death at the Miyagi dojo and then during the final fight. The Saving Of The Girl (both the little girl in the storm and Kumiko) actually puts him in a more traditional masculine space than the previous movie did, even if the main theme of the film is about compassion and kindness and by the end, once more the boy whose masculinity is built on rockhard abs and matchsticks is on his knees. Daniel just has that power over big boys. It’s called kick/punch them in the face hard enough that they see stars.

There’s an aside to be made here about how much Daniel really is an observer in other peoples stories in this, although he is the factor that sends both Chozen and Kumiko into completely different directions in life (Chozen and Kumiko main characters when?) Anyway he comes out of it presumably okay, despite being almost killed. Maybe a few therapy sessions and he’ll get over it. Too bad Terry Silver is lurking around the corner…

5. The Karate Kid Part Three: The Big Bad Wolf

Alright people have written Words about the third movie. It’s fascinating. It’s odd. It’s eye-straining. It’s like olives – you’re either fully onboard the madness or it’s too off-putting for you (or you’re like. Eh, don’t see what all the fuss is about either way...). It’s basically a non-consensual secret BDSM relationship between a guy in his thirties (played by a Very Tall twenty-seven year old Thomas Ian Griffith) and a 17/18 year old (played by a shorter twenty-eight year old Ralph Macchio).

Also recently we got more information on Mr. Griffith’s input on the uh… vibes of the film. Apparently it wasn’t just The Sweetness of Ralph Macchio’s face, the screenplay (whatever that amounted to in the first place – release the script!), the soundtrack, the direction to not tone it down under any circumstances, the fact that Macchio categorically refused to play a romance between himself and an actress who was sixteen, no: it was also TIG coming up with fun ways to torture Daniel’s character and suggesting these to the director. Clearly everyone has fun hurting Mr Macchio (including Mr Macchio).

The point is that aaallll of that amounts to that Intense Homoerotic Dubiously-Consented-To D/s subtext that haunts the movie and gives a lot of fun stuff to play with. It’s also a film that – if we’re analysing Daniel along feminine-coded fairytale lines recontextualises his role in this universe.

The Fairytale goes topsy-turvy. Through the looking glass. Enter Big Bad Wolf stage right. Karate is a metaphor for Daniel’s bisexual awakening.

“Oh, when will an attractive man touch me in ways that aren’t about hurting me?” he asks after two movies of being hurt by boys with rippling muscles. “Why do men continue to notice me only to hit me? Do you think wearing red is making me too noticeable? Anyway, Mr Silver looked really good in his gi today.”

Daniel’s diary must be a trip.

#daniel larusso #the karate kid #cobra kai #ck #johnny lawrence #cobra kai meta #my writing #part one of three #some comparisons to matrix and rocky because I love to talk about those #terry silver

92 notes · View notes

just-char · 3 years ago

Note

Hey Char, been a while. I'm curious, did you play the Snowgrave route of chapter 2 and if so what were your thoughts? I played it and it makes me think of you with the horror elements, so I wondered if you gave it a go.

Hello, Bun! Long time, no see, indeed. I’m glad to hear you thought of me as I primarily associate playing Deltarune and Undertale with you (you were the one who bought me it in the first place, after all, and convinced me to play it. Even when I listen to the soundtrack I think specifically of how you enjoyed it!)

Also, Napstablook = Krickis as far as I am concerned. Where there is Napstablook, I am thinking of Krickis. On actual serious thoughts, the Snowgrave Route is certainly an exciting one. I have not played it myself (Kris and Noelle are so young and I can barely manage to play the genocide route in Undertale) but I did watch another person play through it and my thoughts are as follows: wow!

Toby Fox most definitely has a hidden penchant for horror and it’s planted all across Undertale and Deltarune (Alphy’s lab in the true pacifist run in Undertale immediately comes to mind.) It’s a lot to do with the environment and atmosphere he’s capable of building in all areas of the game creating process, whether it be music or art design or battle mechanics (I imagine with the help of others too, but unfortunately I’m not very familiar with who works on the games) and creepy seems to come easy to him! I know you didn’t ask about Spamton, but his boss battle is another fantastic example of this. That horror element is a lot more... nightmare-y, though, I suppose? What I mean to say is, it’s almost silly. It doesn’t feel as real as what’s happening with Kris actively throughout the game, or what happens to Berdly. Part of this is because fighting Spamton doesn’t have consequences (that are obvious to the player.) The worst that happens is that Kris appears to have a panic attack afterwards and is visibly upset by what they’ve been forced by us to witness, but what I like specifically about the Snowgrave Route is that this lasts and it’s really explored. The lasting consequence it seems to have on the psyche of Noelle and Kris and the implication of the entire route is horror through and through, in a fantastic, amazing, wowza way.

And now, because I am a little bit too excited to talk about this, an unedited and possibly impossible to read ramble about horror and Noelle and Kris below the cut. The way I describe the game and the role the player has might be upsetting, so please do not read unless you’re very comfortable with body control horror etc..

Deltarune isn’t a horror game but its premise mirrors one in multiple ways and I find that very fascinating. It is almost more unnerving that such horrible experiences are masked by the fun, whacky outer layers. One could play Deltarune and never find Jevil or Spamtom’s boss fight or play the Snowgrave route and remain blissfully unaware of what lurks beneath a very normal (if occasionally dark!) adventure story.

Despite this, there is a lot to be said about Kris and the player’s control over them, as well as some choice words from Noelle about Kris’ recent behaviour and demeanour. It’s hard not to assume that Kris is possessed by us. We can force them to say things but they can react to these dialogue choices and become visibly upset at the actions we force upon them, so even playing the game as intended without discovering anything remotely below the surface, it’s impossible to ignore what actually playing the game and controlling Kris does to them. Essentially, stripping away all of the scariest parts of Deltarune doesn’t matter, because its actual premise, where you play, not as Kris, but as an entity CONTROLLING Kris, is in itself horrific! Kris is a child, at most sixteen and I certainly believe younger than that, and no amount of drawing them weirdly tall and lanky and emo-y can change that.

Possession and inability to control one’s self are heavily utilised in horror. When you consider how many times you’ve watched someone be tied down, forced to witness whatever is happening to them in real time, or the general horror and gore associated with demon possession in even current mainstream movies like The Conjuring (or even a mix of both! Media that explores being trapped inside the body without any control while being possessed and the effects it has on your mind is not common enough) it’s easy to see the connections between a lot of horror tropes and Kris’ ‘problem’. Only thing is, we’re directly perpetuating this horror every time we play. We are the demon! We are the person who is strapping someone down and forcing them to witness horrific things by our hand! I mean, it’s just fantastic. Deltarune is by no means a horror but it certainly feels like it. I suppose that’s the power of implication!

Being more specific to the Snowgrave route (I promise the previous ramble was related!) the player extends this control to Noelle, arguably the most vulnerable and ‘helpless’ character in the game so far besides Kris themselves (and even then, that’s in a much more literal way.) unlike Kris, who physically has no choice, Noelle feels as though she has no choice. She’s a pushover and unable to prevent who she perceives as her childhood friend from forcing her to do things she doesn’t want to. Her relationship with her mother seems to play into this complex. Noelle has always been one of my favourite characters— even with what little we see of her in chapter one, she makes a lasting impression and it’s not surprising that people wanted her to be a party member in this chapter. (The irony!) But this newest chapter also furthers an interesting trait of hers, namely, her fascination with fear. She enjoys being scared, she gets a rush from being in dangerous situations, feeling unsafe. She says so herself, though she uses more external situations to explain it (scary forests, etc.) It certainly explains her crush on Susie, but in the Snowgrave Route, it really works against her. Or, we use it against her. At a first glance, what we do to her in the Snowgrave route is awful, and then, the more you think about it, the worst it gets (usually a trademark of excellent horror and great writing in general, in my opinion.) not only are we playing into her deepest insecurities (because remember, it’s not Kris doing this, or us playing AS Kris, it’s just we, the player) we are actively abusing her as a person. We force her to fight. We force her to hurt people. We do all this for power. And we do all this while simultaneously doing it to Kris as well! And forcing Kris to be our mouthpiece, forcing them to hurt their friend who they presumedly love and care for! Unlike Susie and Ralsei, Noelle’s opinion of us cannot affect our journey and she is easy to control, so we do it. And once again, these are kids! They are children! We are not fighting Sans Undertale to the death, we are actively abusing and controlling children, much to the detriment of their mental health and the physical health of those around them.

Details such as the watch and the blackened “conversation” we have with Noelle in the hospital really only add to the experience. The implication that Berdly has been seriously harmed and potentially killed by what we’ve done to him (or more accurately, forced Noelle to do to him) is handled really interestingly from the younger persons perspective, where he simply doesn’t wake up. I could really go on and on, but unfortunately time is a constraint and I don’t think what I’m saying is very easy to parse anyway.

To summarise: Snowgrave Route good. Very well-written. Deltarune is a horror in disguise, but I will continue to put my hands over my ears and pretend everything is okay, just like Mr Toby Fox would like me to do. Thank you very much for the ask, I hope you’re doing well! If you have any thoughts of your own, please share them with me. I’d be delighted to hear your opinion as a writer (horror or not.) :]

#deltarune #deltarune spoilers #tw: horror #tw: mind control #(Technically? I’m very worried about the way I describe the game in this post. I don’t want to make any of my followers uncomfortable)

24 notes · View notes

agent-cupcake · 4 years ago

Text

fluff is good, it’s even fun sometimes. but, you know, i think i’ll always enjoy dark content the most. like, no matter how much i insist i have moved past it, my entire career began because i learned the term yandere and realized i’d found my place in the online sphere. but, really, lust and fear have a complimentary relationship. the emotions and sensations they invoke, both physically and mentally, are equally potent and stem from the same place for me. the fluttery sensation in my stomach dances indiscriminately to the tune of disquiet and arousal, excitement stirs itself up within my chest at the mention of being wanted, uncaring if the intent is sadistic or lustful. its a shared theatrical fantasy of fear, catching thrills from simulated danger as we imagine what it is to be in a situation so dire, so intense and frightening, that we cannot help but to hyperfocus on our discomfort. we practice these emotions and engage in these disastrously unhealthy relationships through emulation and the sanitized vessel of the written word, but without any of the emotional price that would be asked of us if it were real.

it’s not real.

there is nobody lurking behind your window in the gaps between the streetlamps, even if you were to turn off the lights in an attempt to get a better view, but maybe you shouldn’t anyway. there is no face to breathe fog and leave smudged fingerprints on the glass pane while they peer into the internal life you hold sacred, but you should probably keep your blinds shut. there is nobody hiding behind your shower curtain as you stumble half-blind and asleep into the bathroom at two in the morning, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. if you hear a sound, surely you cannot logically attribute it to a malevolent person moving unseen through the secure sanctuary of your home when they assumed you would be in bed, but you should probably take a look at your locks. if you notice that your things are not where you left them, it’s silly to assume that someone has been into your room, rifling through your things and leaving them almost as you left them. to believe that somebody genuinely and truly meant you harm in such a personal way would be to risk the foundational safety that you rely on to live with any measure of peace. and besides, memories are fallible. our senses are imperfect. our overexcited and imaginative minds can betray us. you can be infected by a nightmare you can’t quite remember, only that you woke up shaky and gasping and frightened, squinting in the darkness to make out the figure standing at the foot of your bed that you could have sworn was just there only to be reassured that it was just a bad dream. you can hurry home because you felt certain you were being watched only for the sensation to be ultimately attributed to your own paranoia. yes, the world is dangerous. but maybe not your world. these things, these dramatic scenes cut straight from an episode of the hundreds of crime dramas, don’t happen to people like you.

but

we fantasize about yanderes and dark personalities and the brutal psychological and bodily torture any character of our choice could subject us to, we imagine the most grim of situations in a light that appeals to our own desires, twisting horror to suit us in a controlled manner.

still, it is frightening, isn’t it?

it’s past midnight, maybe one or two in the morning, and you’re sitting within the four walls of your room that you no longer believe to be protection enough from the stalker that has been creeping closer and closer. you’re staring at the familiar surroundings that suddenly feel very alien and contend with the bone crushing frenzy of utter stillness in the face of animal panic, the intense crackling and wavering that you can almost see hovering above your skin and holding up little strands of hair as chills crawl in bug-like hoards across the feverish flush of your flesh. all at once you are overwhelmed and helpless against him as he invades, defiles, and dismantles each aspect of your life. there is nothing you can do, no protection from this stylized predator who who has been perfected by fantasy made real so that he no longer resembles any common stalker. in the dark, you are vulnerable. in this situation, you are isolated. shame fills your chest, sloshing around to the frantic rhythm of your heartbeat, embarrassment at the ridiculousness of your reaction. really, what are a few messages? maybe you’re misinterpreting the signs, there’s not enough evidence to prove anything. you have to use the bathroom, yet you don’t feel safe to enter the dark hallway because there might be a figure standing at the other end, and what would you do then? you want to contact somebody for comfort, but everyone you know is asleep and you don’t want to disturb them over something so trivial. you want to move and run and scream and deal with the problem, but you can’t do anything. just sit. just watch. just wait. minutes tick by, somehow. and somehow, dawn breaks over the horizon. you didn’t sleep, but maybe the sun will provide safety. maybe.

maybe not. there’s a unique kind of horror in the mundane. you don’t think about the sounds of the world around you until you begin to feel uneasy in the sunny open air, until the paranoia kicks in and suddenly it’s all you can hear because you’re hyper-focusing on trying to identify why you no longer feel safe. birds warble and call to one another. the leaves relentlessly rustle as the playful breeze shakes them about. from far away, a dog is barking. the big kind, the one that goes “boof boof,” you’ve just gotten out of your car after being out all day and you’re standing uncertainly in your driveway, looking around to try and pinpoint why you’re so anxious. you realize, with a zipping sort of shock down your spine, that there’s nobody else around. not even any evidence that they existed in the first place and it’s so stupid but you begin to think that maybe you’re the only person who has ever existed because the world around you feels so empty and barren. energy tingles in the air, but it is hollow. a void of something you can’t quite perceive. the dog stops barking. the wind dies down. do you dare go inside? your home, the place that should be your refuge, is not safe. you go inside and look at a kitchen you scarcely recognize as your own, at a bed that might as well belong to somebody else, at decor you once were so proud to put up that now seems arranged by a strangers hand. the one who is preying on you is probably human, but the threat feels supernatural in effect. omnipresent. we fear that which we don’t understand, and how can you possibly understand the motive of someone who has focused on you? dread sinks down deep as you shift from foot to foot and second guess every move you make. it smells like sun-warmed concrete and the wind-blown scent of spring greenery. just like your home itself, the smell is familiar as it is foreign. eventually, you go inside.

it’s so obscene, the way that sweat pools between your shoulder blades and slicks your skin, making you shiver with a distinctly antithetical chill to your blazing temperature. sweat is gross and uncomfortable, it makes your clothes cling to your skin and hair mat to your forehead. it’s so crude, this gouging, pinching discomfort like you need to pee making your thighs tremble as they clench together. your entire body is wound up tight as you crouch in the dark, barely allowing yourself to breathe for fear of being discovered while he looks for you. maybe he takes his time just to mess with you, maybe he doesn’t. maybe he tauntingly calls out to you in a feigned attempt to draw you out of hiding. maybe he means it when he tells you that he loves you. no matter what, there’s no escape, not anymore. it’s a foregone conclusion that you will be found. but you can’t move. fight or flight is out the window, you are frozen. you know the eventuality, yet you cling to hope out of the sheer, stubborn, and half-mad belief that this cannot possibly be real.

its so repulsive, this sickness that gathers in your gut, that invites the swollen weight of nausea to press down heavy and inescapable in your throat, that sits on your paper dry tongue. it tastes like old, rusted metal, the scent that clung to your blistered hands when you were young and tried your luck on the ancient playground monkey bars. the bloody flavor that choked you when you lost the last of your baby teeth, leaving your childhood behind and exchanging imaginary monsters for the real ones. just when the anticipation is on the precipice of killing you, you’re found. you expected it, yet you still scream. it still hurts, it’s still terrifying, you’re still clouded by the vague fog of disbelief that this could be real. you keep thinking that. it can’t be real, this can’t be real. things like this don’t happen to you.

but it is. you can’t stop it. you have no control over your life in that moment and thereafter.

and you think about everything you’ve ever read online about torture. human beings are so capable of hurting each other, it’s a dedicated art form. and you know about stalkers, the real kind, not the fun fictional yandere kind. you know the torture that human bodies are capable of withstanding before dying, the grotesque limits they can endure. limbs removed or hobbled. fingers peeled of nail and skin. teeth pulled, tongue cut out, eyes gouged, skin lashed to tatters, feet spun around so the skin stretched like rubber. not to mention sexual torture. when a human being is granted absolute dominion over another, even the best of them go rotten. do you ever think about that? in these situations, the fear of pain would get to me above all else, i think.

if you don’t immediately disassociate from the fiction, if you force yourself into the scenario as its presented with a degree of reality, the horror is really limitless. and, you may ask, why was this important? because it is six am and i cannot sleep and i’ve had this entire conceptual outline of good horror yandere fiction sitting in my docs for ages that i’ll never actually use to write character x reader so i am giving it to you raw and uncut.

#personal #yandere #uh tw for being a pretentious and sleepy idiot cooming over ye ole classic yandere tropes #sometimes i like to imagine this stuff in clear enough detail that it actually makes me uncomfortable enough to turn on the light #and rethink my life choices #because this aint it #but at the same time #at this point its sunk cost fallacy i've spent too long typing this out to discard it #sorry dear followers #stalking tw

39 notes · View notes

dilfbane · 4 years ago

Text

Nervous(Your Blood On Fire) - Dhawan!Master x Reader

Summary: The Master discovers that you’ve never kissed. Things - mainly kissing - ensue.

Pairing: Dhawan!Master x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: So I saw someone mention in the tags that they wanted to do a short drabble about Dhawan!Master teaching you how to kiss and I immediately had to sit down and write this because same. Hope that you all enjoy! (Also, if the Master seems OOC in this at all, I profusely apologize. I wrote this during finals week so yeah.... we die like men in this house.)

“You’ve never kissed?” Asks the Master. He is staring at you with a gobsmacked expression, and your eyes are glued to the floor.

“You don’t have to say it like that,” You mumble.

The silence in the console room is so loud you could hear a pin drop, and you mentally berate yourself for how effeciently you’ve managed to completely ruin the mood. You’d found yourself caught up in the moment, your hand clasped in his as you’d burst through the TARDIS doors, laughing, with your blood on fire. He had backed you up against the console, manic smile and sharp eyes gleaming, deft touches sending shudders cascading through you as his hands wandered over your sides and his lean, lithe body pressed you into something vaguely metallic and painful. He’d leaned in close, his teeth glinting in the lights, fingers rising to cup your jaw.

And you, an absolute idiot, had pulled yourself away from him with a hasty, I don’t know how to do this.

What?, he had asked, You haven’t kissed someone before?

He had smirked, when he said it, but the hot blush that had crept its way over your cheeks, and the way that you’d instinctively shied away from his gaze, without so much as thinking, had caused him to scoff in something akin to disbelief and take a step back, distancing himself from you. You felt his absence keenly, and knew, now, what he’d been pressing you into, the lever that disentangled the TARDIS from its physical place in the universe. No doubt he had meant to push you down on it with your lips and tongues at war with each other, sending you whirling into the vortex, where you could be alone, to hitch your legs around him as he took what he wanted from you. The prospect thrilled you, and filled you with some inescapable feeling that you couldn’t name -

Part low ache, part sadness, and part resignation. He would never want you, you thought to yourself. You had no idea what you were doing, and the Master had lived for hundreds of years. You knew deep down exactly what you would be.

The worst that he’d ever had.

You’re so lost in the thought that you almost miss the feeling of strong fingers at your chin, pulling your head up, the wamrth of his form in front of you, there, but giving you space. He is watching you calmly, warily, with just a hint of concern, and underneath it all you can see his tempered excitement, threatening to break through as he opens and closes his mouth once or twice, carefully choosing his words.

“How have you never…”

“I don’t know,” You tell him, huffing and embarrassed. “I always meant to. I mean - I just. I didn’t really - Have somebody like that.”

“Would you… like to?” He asks, hesitantly, dark eyes narrowed, scanning you as if he’s afraid, though of what, you don’t rightly know. Rejection, your mind supplies, as you snap back into the present. The gaze seems now to say Let me down gently, and you stifle a laugh as you take your time on the answer. It is important, you realize, to say the right thing to him.

To say the right thing, at all.

Your mind is filled with images of long months of decreasingly rare, fleeting touches that stayed with you into the night as you tossed and turned beneath your blankets, sleep deserting you in favor of the thought of his hands on your body, divesting you of your clothes and saying human things to you.

“Yeah,” You say, hearing yourself as if in a tunnel of wind, “Yeah, I think that I would.”

You don’t know what you’d been expecting, but it wasn’t for a smile to break loose on his face, for him to pull you away with a sure-fingered grip, eyes lit and fast pace persistant as he led you out of the bedroom.

“Where are we going?” You asked him, smiling yourself, a queer warmth suffusing you.

“Patience, love,” He says, smirking and teasing and exuberant in a way that doesn’t half scare you. You stumble over your feet a bit, in anticipation, and fading worry, as he guides you through the winding halls of the TARDIS. You blink, and you are through a door, elegantly carved and embossed in gold, and in a flash his wrist is off yours, and he beckons towards a bed with crisp white sheets and an richly embroidered red-and-gold eiderdown. The room smells like him - like smoke and whiskey and tea and ashes, like steel and anger and wet leaves after a rain. It is cold and caring, meticulously lived-in, inherently affectionate and foreign.

“Your room?” You ask.

“I want you impressed,” He says, but his laviscuous grin has softened, and so has the somewhat-dulled spark in his eyes.

He beckons, once, more, to the bed, and as you sit your thoughts return to you, tangled and confused, the hot edge of want shot through with ice water as you remember how much less than him you are. Your fears are dispelled as he pushes you further back, until you are lying down fully on the left side of the bed, giving you time to still him as he clambers onto it himself, the mattress dipping under his welcoming weight; he lies sideways, propped up on one elbow, close enough to make you sure of his intent, far enough that you could flee, though knowing the Master, you wouldn’t get very far. He would make you talk about it, say gentle things you aren’t capable of handling, before letting you go. He would make sure that you were alright, and you do not want to be that.

The only thing that you want to be, as you look into his deep, wondering gaze -

The only thing you want to be is his.

Your pulse goes painfully fast as he brings his hands up to cradle your face, and you wonder if he’s as nervous as you are. He certainly doesn’t seem nervous. He seems -

Intent, you think. Focused, and the tiniest bit smug, like he already knows how ruined you’ll be for anyone that isn’t him, after you give yourself up.

“Shh,” He says, moving to brush your hair behind your ear before cupping your jaw again. “Is this alright?”

“It’s fine,” You say, breathless, “It’s - good.”

“Mm,” He says, “Good.”

“I’ll like it better, once we actually - yeah?”

He laughs, a warm huff that you can feel on your skin, and a delicious shiver wracks you.

“You can’t even say it out loud, love,” He says, “Humans. What am I going to do with you?”

“I don’t know,” You say, letting your raw nerves show; letting him know exactly how anxious you feel. You’ve always been prone to anxiety; if he noticed it before now, he never said a word, but sometimes you thought you would catch him telling you things were alright when a panic attack was swelling up inside of you, and praising you for answering a question that would’ve earned anyone else Finally, even if your answer wasn’t entirely correct. Sometimes, he chastised you without the same degree of heat he directed towards others, with a gaze that tried to set your clumsy ashamed-ness at bay and offer you comfort, despite the weight of your mistake. Your insecurities roar back to life, and you feel yourself going to say - something - before he puts a stop to it, drawing your face closer to his where you lie, until your foreheads are touching and your lips are almost locked together.

“Now,” He says, utterly composed, “What you want to do - is feel.”

You pull back, snorting.

“Feel?” You ask him, “That’s a rubbish instruction, I think.”

“What did you feel, right then?” He asks you, cocking his head and casting his gaze over your body, eyes darkening slightly, then returning to their normal indifferent amusement, spiked with a languid and intense caring that made you want to run away and fall into him, all at once.

“Nervous,” You admit. The Master has dropped his hand to where yours is, and in one smooth motion sits, leaning against the firm, cool pillows and taking you with him. He prods at you until he is satisfied that he has you where he wants you, legs touching and half-twisted so that you face him, and you feel his hand move over yours, a warm, sturdy pressure lacing your fingers together.

“It’s only kissing,” He tells you, but there is no heat in it; he sounds less exasperated than he does reassuring, and it draws a laugh out of you, causing his smile to widen. He hums something concentrated into the air as he regards you, studying the lines of your face, shaking his head when you laugh and instinctively go to turn away.

“It’s only kissing,” He tells you, moving ever closer, his pace sure, yet restrained, and your heart swells at how slowly, how clumsily, he is going, giving you all the time in the world to back out.

“I’m um - I want this,” You say, with a giggle. A giggle; three months ago, if you had giggled, he would have glared, but now he takes it as confirmation that he can do whatever he wants to you - you hope that he does, at least. The Master seems to have gotten the message, because all of a sudden, he’s there, and you feel his mouth descending on yours, face cupped in palms that are surprisingly cool. His lips rest on yours, for the shortest moment, before beginning to move, softly and slowly, but firmly, his teeth both a threat and a dare. You try to match what he’s doing, but you can tell that you’re abysmal at it -

It doesn’t feel like it should, you think, and shake your head, attempting to escape him.

“No, love,” He tells you, pulling back just slightly enough that you can hear him, “Let me show you, mm? Just like this,” He says, tugging you back into the kiss, letting you take the lead. You move your lips in a way that sparks, and laugh in a start of hot disbelief. The Master smirks, and you feel it against your mouth, there and perfect. Your lips and tongue want to chase it, and though it scares you at first, an encouraging sigh from the Master makes your mind up for you.

You deepen things, sliding your tongue past his parted lips, and feel his clutch on you tighten, nails digging into your face. Any harder, you think, and they’ll break skin, though the pain doesn’t hurt you; on the contrary, it is welcome, so fundamentally Master that you wouldn’t feel right, doing this, without it, and you abandon yourself to his whims as he picks up the pace, nipping harsh at your lip, lifting his hands to place them at your shoulders and lifting you into his lap, legs straddling his thighs. He does break skin, then - at your back, and the top of your shoulders, and you whimper into his mouth. The Master runs a soothing hand over the shallow marks and swallows it, drinking it down like wine.

“Too much?” He asks, halting and pulling away and moving you off him, to give you much needed breathing space.

“No,” You say, “That was - Good,” You tell him. “Really good.”

“You like kissing, then?” He asks you.

“Yeah,” You tell him, “I do, I mean - Only with you,” You say, blushing and averting your gaze. When you finally look back at him, though, there is an intensity on his face that burns just the same as his anger, and his mouth is set in a snarl.

“Y/N,” He tells you, “Anyone else, and I’ll kill them.”

You don’t doubt that he means it - he may be a liar, the Master, but he will not lie to you. And you could not dream of kissing anyone else, now that you’ve done it with him. Lost in your reveries, you blink when the Master stands up, as graceful as anything, snarl settling into a smug, contented, and vaguely frustrated grin as he looks at you, yet you see the care in them, just underneath the surface, and your heart overflows in your chest.

“Twenty minutes,” He says, “There’s something that I want to show you.”

“Let me guess,” You say, “Bloody, violent revolution?”

The Master scoffs.

“Hardly,” He tells you, “I was thinking -“

“Wait,” You tell him, “Surprise me.”

The Master inclines his head ever so slightly, bending to get through the doorframe, ever so slightly too tall, but, for an instant - an indomitable sliver of time - he pauses, hands braced around the wood, and when he speaks next, his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it.

“You’re quite good at kissing, you know,” He tells you - there is something intrinsically sad about it, but he does not give you time to speak. “Twenty minutes,” The Master says.

“I’ll be there,” You tell him.

“I know that you will be,” He says.

And just like that, you’re alone.

#dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master #kissing #the master is a soft boi #but also possessive as all hell #that really do be how it be

103 notes · View notes

starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years ago

Text

HASO “The Verdict.”

Put a lot of work into this, and now its approaching a close. I hope you all enjoy.

Again thank discord member Eddi for writing the experimental logs and coming up with the scientists names. I hope you especially enjoy what I have done with your work. I really appreciate it, and was super excited to collaborate on a work.

WARNING: Not really any violence in this one, but it does mention drugs, and suicide, so viewer discretion is advised.

“Are you alright?”

Adam barely heard the question eyes wide and watching as the lights glowed down from overhead inside the sterile, white marbled courtroom.

“Adam?’

He blinked and looked up, turning his head to stare at Admiral Kelly who sat at his side, a hand resting on his shoulder, “Did you hear me?”

“Sorry,, I’m fine.’

She went quiet, eyes narrowed in concern clearly not entirely believing him when he said he was alright, but having no proof otherwise. He had to take a moment to think about it himself, and determined that….. He did feel fine. In fact, he felt better than he had earlier. His palms were no longer sweating and his breathing was coming in a normal, even rhythm.

He was alright, he was going to be ok.

“The prosecution calls Dr. Wilkenson to the stand.”

Adam lifted his head in surprise, eyes narrowing as the slim man took to his feet, nervously adjusting his tie and his glasses in turn before making his way to the witness stand. This was one of the men who had helped to design the steel eye project.

“Dr Wilkenson, do you mind reading for us, the words that you wrote regarding the Steel Eye project.”

The man was handed a piece of paper, and he nodded it, taking it into his hands before clearing his throat.

Experimental log #1

I am shocked at the extent to which my ‘colleagues’ are willing to go for greater heights of recognition and achieving their goals. I am attempting to either reduce the pain subjects feel or in some way reduce the reliance on addictive painkillers. I fear however this will all avail naught. The pain induced by the interface itself means that one would have to redesign the entire system. To keep my superiors happy I will also be conducting movement tests.

-Recording break-

The tests went as well as expected, The soldiers who have volunteered are unresponsive and lethargic when they are wearing the full suit, this is likely to the immense amount of suppressive painkillers they are on. A mixture of fentanyl and Carfentanil, A mixture I would expect to find in painkillers for a horse or even small elephant. I am advising the introduction of a stimulant. However I am also voicing concerns over such a thing as the level of stimulants needed would be far higher than is safe.

“You seem to have had some doubts about the Steel eye project, Doctor.”

The man nodded, fidgeting with his glasses again, “I did…. Due to ethical concerns. I felt that the testnng was moving to quickly, and I also felt that the introduction of such potent medications would also be an ethical violation. As I worded in my original log, I felt that the dosages required to keep someone functional while wearing the Steel eye suit were well beyond reasonable.”

The lawyer shifted slightly on their feet, “Tell me doctor, why -- after you quite-- did you not bring these ethical violations forward to the proper authorities?”

The doctor shifted nervously, “I would have liked to, counselor, but -- before entering the project-- i signed a top secret nondisclosure agreement that stated: were I to introduct this information to any outside source, that I would be jailed for the rest of my life….” he looked down at his feet, “Obviously, now I regret deeply not having the courage to come forward and say something sooner.

Audio visual log transcript.

The researcher, confirmed to be Dr.Wilkinson approaches the test subject, attempting to wake them in various gentle manners before finally slapping them with an open palm. Once awoken and adjustments to the drug intake are made by Dr. Wilkinson which resulted in protests from the subject. The subject is encouraged to run laps on a large track which is timed by Dr. Wilkinson. After Which the doctor assists the subject out of the suit and hands him over to a medical worker who seems to have been held on standby.

The lawyer cleared her throat, reading.

Observers note:

It is to be mentioned to the Commission that Dr Wilkinson was sworn to secrecy and required to sign the statute of secrets until such a time the information was brought to light in any manner other than his own actions. Additionally Dr Wilkinson took part in the development of the Iron Eye project and was a vocal proponent of non-human test subjects and ensuring the users were as safe and stable as possible.

“We are not on trial here today for the actions of Dr. Wilkenson who has agreed to testify for the prosecution in exchange for immunity against legal action. We are, however, here to discuss the actions of those scientists who continued on with the steel eye project long after it became clear that there were ethical concerns, and that those ethical concerns were being routinely and blatantly violated.”

The prosecution shifted again, hands gripping the lectern, “The prosecution would like to present experimental log 3 for evidence.”

Experimental log #3

After reviewing James’s experimental logs and the currently used painkillers and suppressants the current stimulants suggested caffeine and amphetamine. It has been decided that the stimulants lack a level of strength to provide combat effective units. Thus the upcoming experiment will be focused on achieving the right cocktail of drugs to provide optimum combat functionality. The tested stimulants will be mixtures I have personally developed and calculated. As well as commercially available and recommended mixtures that James developed.

-Recording break-

As expected the mixtures that James developed did not aid in any manner and testing with those ceased after the first failure. The recommended mixtures are only marginally better. I have discovered however, to no shock, that my own mixtures are highly functional. Proceeding forwards, We will be making use of mixture 22c.

Audiovisual log transcript:

Several volunteers stood in a line in prototype Steel-eye suits, each seeming to be asleep. The researcher stops by each of them to place a second vial of chemicals in the drug port. The first subject seems not to react beyond several flickerings of the eyes and a pained moan. In response to this the researcher dumps several un-tested vials in to a large plastic bucket with ‘Failed’ on it in sharpie. The next few subjects react somewhat more, becoming semi verbal and looking round, however they are still lethargic an slow. Only responding in half words or gestures. The researcher dumps several more untested vials in to the ‘Failed’ bucket. The final few volunteers however become far more alert and aggressive, moving round, pushing each other and joking. The researcher struggles to persuade them out of the suits and is eventually forced to deactivate the suits by removing the power supply cables.

Observers note:

Mixture 22c appears to be a mixture of methamphetamines and cocaine. There also appears to be an addition of Dimethyl sulfoxide which increases the absorption rate of the drugs but also removes the requirement for precision with the needle insertion allowing for a larger needle to be used to increase drug delivery dosage.

The court room was silent, silent as the lawyer turned to look at the assembled audience and then back at the judges, “Methamphetamine…. And cocaine, two drugs known to be ‘highly’ addictive and grossly unethical. Drug experimentation on humans is strictly controlled by the EDA and that is ONLY involving the clinical use of newly discovered drugs. At this point it should be more than clear that the use of illicit drugs on unknowing test subjects in a developmental environment goes beyond gross negligence and into malicious tampering. Dr. Ayishat Abara has demonstrated great contempt for Dr. Wilkinsons moderate methods and gone on to produce a cocktail of drugs that is rarely found outside of crackhouses and meth labs.

With a solemn expression, the lawyer turned to look at the rest of the crowd, “This is not even considering the long term effects and the psychological damage caused to the victims of Steel eye…. Which led many men and women to take their own lives. Experimental log 18 being the prosecution's next piece of evidence.”

Experiment log #18

After extensive physical testing and further refining of the stimulant delivery system and mixtures of the stimulant and painkillers I have decided that it is suitable to move on to combat testing. The upcoming test will be a simple firearms test, I have requisitioned a modified 30mm rapid fire weapon that I feel will be suitable for use with the Steel Eye suit. This will be a live fire test. I have no intent on taking baby steps when such a project is due to draw such renown.

-Recording break-

The subject was more than capable of using the weapon. Though seemed to lack the force of will to maintain its use for long. To combat this I will be including small amounts of ritalin as well as increasing the stimulant dosage. This should counteract the negative reactions exhibited by the test subject.

Audiovisual log transcript:

The subject is active and moving around the test area. Different to all the prior times, however the subject also seems to be on edge or hyper aware of something. The researcher wheels in a large caliber short barreled automatic cannon Attaching it to the Steel eye suits arm and instructing the soldier on how to use it. After a few moments of instruction the subject seems comfortable and begins firing down rage at several targets, Displaying uncanny reaction speed and almost superhuman reflexes. This continued for several minutes, The subject however seems to grow more and more despondent and unresponsive as the tests go on. The researcher leaves the area for a short while seemingly to get more stimulants or ammunition. During the break the soldier places the short barreled against their own temple and discharges the weapon. This subject is registered as the test subject for the past 11 experiments.

The entire room flinched and gasped. Adam felt his stomach churn again, but less to do with fear this time and more to do with pure disgust and horror. He looked away again as the recording shut off and the lawyer stood before the room for a long moment allowing the footage to sink into the minds of those in the courtroom, “This test subject, this man, Dakota McCallister was on his 11th time as a test subject when this footage was taken. After reviewing all of the testing logs with Dr. Gladstone, we have found no evidence that the subjects were monitored for mental health concerns. Additionally none of them were even screened before testing began. None of the men and women involved in the Steel eye project were ever referred for mental health testing before, during or after the experimentation was complete.”

Experimental log #23

I have discovered the most efficient way to motivate the subjects is to offer further testing time within the suit and increased dosages of the drugs used to suppress the side effects of wearing the suit. This has prevented further unwarranted self removal from the project as occurred in experiment eighteen. The upcoming test is the first live combat test. I have taken one of the subjects and isolated them for a few days, preventing use of the suit. They will be permitted to use the suit and instructed that if they wish to continue using it they will attack a target of my choosing.

-Recording Break-

The experiment went far better than expected. The subject did not question the instructions given nor did they seem to show any lack of remorse for their actions. Short of a few further tests to ensure subjects can work together. Further testing is unwarranted.

Audiovisual log transcript:

Within the test arena there is a single individual they appear to be a military volunteer. Missing a limb. Quite possibly a earlier subject from the Steel Eye testing. The subject is nervous and clearly unstable. The researcher enters, alongside the Steel eye testing unit. The subject of the steel eye seems to be hyper alert and jittery. The individual spots the Steel eye suit and panics, attempting to move away from it. The researcher indicates the individual to the subject and the subject charges the individual, striking them with the backhand of the suit. The individual is thrown across the testing area to impact against the far wall. The landing angle indicates not only a broken neck but several other lethal injuries, including a crushed skull. The researcher, seemingly satisfied provides the subject with a vial of some kind, And leaves the testing area.

“Researchers and test subjects alike died during the experimentation, and yet the scientists did not stop.” She looks down at her notes, “The experiment went far better than expected? What is that even supposed to mean, you expected more people to die? YOu expected the test subject to be more unstable. Furthermore, the use of the suit and the drugs as a reward for the already unstable test subjects is a simple demonstration of how poorly this experiment was run and overseen. These ethical violations should never have begun much less allowed to continue.”

Discussion synopsis regarding further system problems.

The researchers confirm that all systems are working to their optimum capabilities given the research time and that they have done everything in their power to keep the subjects safe and healthy throughout the testing process and that no undue risk were taken. Dr Abara indicates disdain for Dr Wilkinson’s methods and suggests he be court marshalled for his attempted ‘sabotage’ of the project. This is dismissed by Admiral Ableman. Problems are mentioned regarding power sources and suggestions are raised including back pack mounted power units. This is eventually solved with Dr Nkosi suggests making use of injured soldiers and using the space where their limb would be to mount power packs. The next issue raised is the fact that the Steel Eye suit puts too much stress on soldiers in active combat scenarios as mentioned by Dr Abara stating that ‘subjects fell apart too fast.’ Again Dr Nkosi provides a solution by suggesting the use of augmetics. Dr Stein at this point provides a interface solution using the prosthetics. With all problems solved All relevant papers are handed over to the Admiral and Colonel for the production and shipping out of the combat capable Steel Eye suits.

The lawyer stood quietly before them, hands clasped at her front, “Experimental testing lasted less than a decade. The pain of the interface was never fixed, and yet they sold it off to desperate UNSC officials in order to win the Drev war. Fifty men and women were subjected to implantation. Thirty of those are dead ten of those are permanently psychologically damaged. Five are still in treatment while five more are the only ones who manage to be functional and hold jobs. However,” She motioned towards Adam, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “We also see that -- even then, they are not exempt from psychological dysfunction, though they were never compensated.” She shuffled her papers, “The prosecution has no further comments at this time.” She turned and went back to her seat, pausing to sit and speak quietly with her partner for a moment as the judges deliberated.

Amidral Kelly learned over, “If that was no reasonable doubt, then I don’t know what is.”

Adam nodded, he was feeling pretty good about this all things told.”

Off on the other side of the room, the defence took to their feet. It seemed mostly as if their strategy was not getting their clients out of trouble but simply mitigating the punishments related to the crimes they HAD committed. He heard a lot of tripe and waffling about supposed loopholes in the system and about how they had WON the Drev war after all. There was even a couple arguments about how everyone there had signed an agreement to participate so it actually wasn’t all that bad.

The entire thing seemed as if it was going to be tied up in a neat little bag for them .

That was until.

“The defence would like to call Admiral Vir to the witness stand.”

He froze in palace eyes wide and looked around in confusion. Of course this was perfectly legal and in their rights for them to do this, but he had no idea what they are going to ask. He stood slowly and made his way towards the witness stand staring at the defence as he took an uncomfortable seat on the wooden witness chair.

“ Admiral Vir, How old are you/”

He had to admit that he didn’t expect that question and paused for an unbelievable amount of time before answering, “Twenty six.”

“So young for an admiral.”

“Yes, I suppose.”

The prosecution stood, “Objection your honor, this information is irrelevant.”

“We will allow it.” The prosecution sat.

“And you are not currently taking any medications for your PTSD.”

“No, but I do have a service dog.”

“And do you receive metal evaluations often, as an admiral.”

He shifted in his seat not sure where this was going, and not liking it one bit, “Yes.”

“So you might say that it is safe to assume that the UNSC considers you mentally sound enough to command an entire armada of ships at the age of 26.”

“I…. yes.”

“Admiral, do you have any phobias.”

He swallowed hard unable to tell at all where this was going on, “No, councilor, I don’t.”

“Do you know anyone who does?”

“Yes, I have a friend who has claustrophobia.”

“And how does that person react in enclosed spaces.”

“They panic.”

“Do they actively seek out enclosed spaces, or do they avoid them?”

Adam shrugged, “They avoid them of course. They don’t even like elevators”

“Right, so it would be safe to say that if someone has trauma or panic related to a certain event or object, they would be likely to avoid that object or thing or association with that object at all costs.”

His hands had begun sweating again. A line of it trickled down the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades, “I would assume so.”

“Admiral Vir, would you please show the court your prosthetic leg.”

His hearing completely cut out and all there was was a loud ringing. He saw one of the defence object but then watched as the judges deny that defence.

He was ordered to stand out in front of the court.

His hearing came back slowly as, shaking hands pulled up his right pant leg.

“Admiral Vir, would you mind removing the prosthetic for us.”

He felt heat rising to the back of his neck and up onto his face. The defence argued for him, but it was no use. The Bailiff brought him a chair, and he nervously, and self consciously unstrapped the prosthetic with a soft snick, quickly moving to cover the injury. He felt about ten times smaller as he handed the prosthetic over to the Bailiff, paraded in front of the courtroom like some kind of freak show.

He tried not to think about it, keeping his chin high eyes staring straight forward.

“Please show the judges the serial number on the thigh.”

The Bailiff did as requested.

“Can you ready that out for us your honor, please.”

“SE490000.”

“Dr. Gladstone can you please examine this prosthetic and tell me what you see.”

Adam was held on standby as the doctor moved forward uncomfortably to examine the leg which the bailiff was holding, “It…. is a modified bioprosthetic with Drev Chitin, I don’t…”

“And who would you say was the manufacturer?”

The man paused before his eyes widened slowly, “This…. This is-” he looked up, “This is a steel eye prosthetic.”

There was silence in the courtroom.

“Thank you Dr. Gladstone.” The defence motioned the Bailiff to return the leg to Adam, who strapped it on with still-shaking hands.

“ Admiral Vir, the defence requests that you remove your uniform jacket. If you would be more comfortable that can be done in privacy of course.”

Adam stared at them in confusion. The prosecution stood to argue again, but again were denied.

“Would you like to step into the back room admiral?”

Running on autopilot he shook his head probably having preferred some privacy but being far too confused to actually request it.

He stood and slowly unbuttoned the front of his uniform jacket, staring with the high neck collar and then down either side.

He handed the jacket the the Bailiff, who held it form him.

He stood now in only a white undershirt.

“Admiral please turn around and hold your arms out to the side.”

He did as told.

The room muttered softly.

“Dr. Wilkenson, do you recognize those.”

From behind him, adam heard the weak response, “Those are iron eye interface ports.”

“Thank you admiral, you may put your jacket back on.”

He did as ordered feeling his neck and face turn hot red as he took his seat back on the stand.”

“Admiral, if steel eye had such a negative effect on you, then why would you be wearing a steel eye prosthetic and iron eye interface ports. Wouldn’t those exacerbate your condition.”

He opened and closed his mouth.

The prosecution stood, “Objection your honor, Admiral Vir is not the one on trial here, and this is humiliation.”

“Sit down, council.” The defence was looking rather smug, “presenting to the court footage from the Burg war on the Gromm homeworld.”

Adam’s head was filled with the sound of screaming and gunshots. The camera he was watching through was shaky and jostled this wa and that as the figure ran. Up ahead a massive bubble of force dominates the skyline and hundreds of borg ships swarmed around its top like an eruption of bees.

Drev and other marines ran up and beside, and just ahead of that.

He saw a familiar figure.

He saw himself.

Running at the front of the group. Even over the sound of the screaming and the gunfire he could hear the repetitive hydraulic hiss and whirring of the servo motors as the steel eye suit spurred him to impossible speeds. The Steel eye prosthetic hissed the loudest as he was propelled over the ground.

His heart began to beat faster and faster inside his chest, lines of sweat poured down his back and the halo of lights overhead was growing as if to encompass his vision. He felt sick and dizzy all at once, feeling as if he was tiling sideways and going to fall over. He watched as the image of him ran headfirst into a burg, grabbed it by its slimy centipede limbs…. And ripped it apart. His vision blurred and his ears were ringing.

Muffled gasps filled the court.

He gripped the sides of his chair willing himself to stay in reality, to not pass out or be sucked into some horrific sort of flashback.

He wanted to throw up.

The ringing in his ears only stopped a few minutes later with the Bailiff gently shaking his shoulder.

“Admiral.”

He sat up straighter, his hearing still muffled, but at least he could see.

“Admiral, why did you put on the suit again if it had such damaging effects on you the first time.” “I…. It… i... “ He continued to stammer for a moment before stopping and taking a deep breath, “I thought it was the only way. I put on the suit because I thought if I didn’t than I was forfeiting earth to the Burg, and I couldn’t allow that to happen.” “And how would you describe wearing the suit.”

His heart was thundering in his ears. He felt like he was going to fall over, to be sick. Phantom shots of pain ran up and down his spine. He was shaking so badly he wondered if the entire courtroom could see it, “Indescribable pain….”

“But you didn’t tear it off.”

Soft, “No.”

“So, despite the alleged trauma that the Steel eye project caused you, you wear a steel eye prosthetic, iron eye interfaces, and you have even put on the steeleye suit a second time…. Based on those actions, it hardly seems like the behavior of someone who has received laying trauma from the Steel eye project. Could it be, that your PTSD stems from the war itself and not from the Steel eye project.”

His mouth opened and then closed. His ears were still ringing, and it was hard to think around.

No matter how hard he tried he couldn't seem to put two thoughts together. Even his internal monologue had gone silent.

“Admiral, please answer the question.”

That was when another side of him reared its head. Where the soft squishy 26 year old manchild could not answer the question, there was someone else there t pick up his pieces.”

The admiral, and the Veterin, and the Drev Sentinel,and the warrior stepped into his palace.

His hearing cleared very suddenly and he sat up turning his gaze on the defence.

The targeting system in his prosthetic eye snapped into focus placing the radicals just over the lawyers face.’

“Council, I can see that you are attempting to undermine my claim of PTSD related to the steel eye project to mitigate the lasting effects of the trauma on my person. Based on your argument, I would never have put on the prosthetic or the suit had it caused as much harm to me as I claim. I will have you know, however, that the leg was a gift from a Drev soldier following the war as a gesture of peace taken, discarded from the battlefield and modified. That leg later went on to save my life as it adopted me into the Drev clan. It is an everyday reminder of the war, and the things I lost. It took me months to be able to wear it for what it was -- as a gift-- rather than a reminder of the war. As for the Burg war, I have made mistakes in my time and that was one of them. THe Steel eye suit is a drug, and no matter how much one hates it you always want to come back. That feeling of power, being ten times stronger than you should be, it's like being a god, It is everything you hate and love all in one, and yes I was in ‘debilitating pain’ but i kept going because I thought at that time it was the only way to save the universe.’ He leaned forward in his seat, “So the next time I am lying in the dark prone in the fetal position because one of the pipes on my ship accidentally made a hissing noise, I will take a moment to think about whether it was te steeleye project or the war.”

His voice did not quiver or break, and instead of feeling small, he could imagine the defence shrinking slightly at his words, whose volume had never raised.

“You may take your seat admiral.”

He did as told again straight backed and unmoved by the eyes that stared at him.

Admiral Kelly was staring at him as he took his seat, but he didn’t acknowledge her.

Thedefence brought forward a few more points crosse examining Dr. Wilkenson before the prosecution stepped forward again.

“The prosecution would now like to call expert witness Dr. Lemar Dedtric to the stand.”

There was some shuffling for a few moments as another man stood from he crowd and walked forward taking his seat and sworn to truth before the eyes of the court.

“Dr. Dedric, tell us a little of your credentials here today.”

The man nodded, “For the past twenty years, I have headed the leading psychiatric foundation at the University of Northern Mericanda. I have practiced psychiatry for those same twenty years, published over 100 papers and founded more than twenty psychological foundations for veterans. At the university level I focus primarily on Post Traumatic Stress as related to combat with a secondary focus on the psychological effects of biotechnology implantation.” “And you also reviewed this case like Dr. Gladstone?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And do you believe that there were any psychological effects related to the use of the Steel eye suits on these men and women?”

He nodded, “Most certainly. I think the admiral explained it most clearly when he described the steel eye suit as a drug. As we know, Upgrade addiction was recently added to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental illness last march. Studies that led to the institution of this particular illness found that subjects who were exposed to extreme bio interfacing where more likely to continue adding interfaces as time went on. When asked the subjects reported that their desire to augment came from the feeling of power the interface gave them. The steel eye subjects, based on the notes presented in court indicate a proclivity to going back to the project or something similar despite degrading mental health.”

“The prosecution would like to present video testimony from a few of the remaining steel eye operatives.”

With these testimonies, the case lasted well into the day, and far into the night before court was adjourned and reschedule fo the following day. He slept as if in a haze nad returned early to listen to the rest of the cross examination He was called up multiple times for both sides, but never cracked once during that time. It was as if he was watching himself from the outside.

The defence never called up their own people to the stand, and were likely not going to call them up at all.

That was fine by him.

And then finally, mercifully the judges stepped off into the deliberation chambers staying there for a good half of the day before everyone was called back.

“After much deliberation the Geneva court has come to a verdict….. A verdict. A verdict of guilt on all charges which includes the maximum sentence of life in the Turma maximum security prison facility on multiple counts of Torture, mltiple counts of manslaughter, and multiple counts of gross ethical violation, Court Dismissed.”

Adam sighed sinking back in his seat to stare up at the ceiling.

What a long day this had been.

But at least now it was over

233 notes · View notes

slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years ago

Text

Breakable Heaven (pt. I) - p.l. dubois

As promised, here’s the first part of Breakable Heaven! I’m really excited for this one, there’s so many things I can’t wait for you all to read. This chapter is more setup and background, but I promise it’s all worth it! I’d love it if you reblogged (helps me know people like my work!) or pop into my inbox and let me know what you think! I read all the tags :)

part I part ii part iii part iv

June 4 (thurs)

Laurel clipped her pager back onto her scrubs, leaning over the counter of the nurses’ station. “You ready to go grab lunch?” She had just finished changing the bandages and administering pain medication for a little boy who was recovering from a heart surgery, and was looking forward to getting off her feet for a few minutes. The PICU floor was quiet, only about half of the rooms being filled, and there were no pressing matters that required her attention. If something drastic changed in the next half an hour, she always had her pager.

Madeline looked up from her chair, where she was finishing up filling in a patient’s chart. “Sounds good,” she said, letting their charge nurse know that they were headed down. Madeline Peltier had been one of the first people to introduce themselves to Laurel when she started; having only been on the unit for two weeks herself, she was still getting a handle on the reins and was more than willing to show Laurel around.

Madeline was also one of the few on the floor who was just as comfortable in English as she was in French. French had been Laurel’s foreign language through college, but she was made rudely aware upon her move to Montréal that the pronunciation and slang of Canadian French was very different from the Standard French of Madame Anderson’s rural Minnesota classroom. Her grasp of the language was good enough to take the Québec nursing licensure exam — which wasn’t even offered in English — but the spoken dialect was proving much more difficult to pick up. They walked down to the cafeteria, on the second floor, grabbing some sandwiches before swiping their ID badges for the employee discount.

“I still think they should give us free food,” Madeline said moodily, unscrewing her water bottle and taking a sip.

Laurel laughed. “When hell freezes over, maybe. Doctor’s lounge usually has some pretty nice stuff set out, or at least that’s what they say. Pity our cards don’t let us in, I’m not above identity theft.” Madeline snorted into her sandwich.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Madeline asked a few minutes later, starting to peel an orange.

“Uh, not much?” Laurel said. “Getting my papers together to resign my lease in a few weeks, grocery shopping, but nothing big. It’s been a long few shifts this week and I’m mostly just looking forward to taking it easy. Why?”

“If you’re up to it,” Madeline shrugged, “Patrice and I are going out for dinner Saturday night and we’d love for you to join us.” Patrice was Madeline’s long-time boyfriend, they started dating in university and had been together ever since.

Laurel rolled her eyes. “Madeline, thank you for the offer, but I don’t want to keep being your third wheel.”

Madeline let out a conspiratorial grin. Oh no, Laurel thought. This can’t be good. “As it would so happen,” she said, “you wouldn’t be third wheeling. One of Patrice’s friends is back in the city for a few months, and I think you two might hit it off,” she sing-songed. Madeline had been trying to set her up from practically the moment they met; whether it was someone from her gym, one of the critical care fellows, or apparently, her boyfriend’s childhood friend. They were always nice guys, but nothing had ever stuck for more than a date or two.

---

Twelve hour shifts meant that, at least on work days, there was no way Laurel was going to have the emotional or physical capacity to make herself a real dinner. She’d order in occasionally, but it more common to just pull together something quick like a frozen pizza or grab whatever leftovers she could find in the fridge. Yesterday’s chicken and rice it was, then. Sticking it in the microwave, Laurel opened the door to her balcony, letting Piper out to use the bathroom. Piper was an eight-month-old chocolate lab, the love of her life who she had adopted just after the new year. Laurel had always grown up with dogs; back in Minnesota she had Jackson and Lucy, and she had been missing them more than a little bit since moving to Canada. Piper was incredible. Intelligent, loyal, and so friendly that even her neighbor’s notoriously picky five-year-old son had taken a shine to her. She wolfed down her food, grabbed Piper’s leash and her water bottle, and headed out the door.

June 5 (fri)

The intricacies of language were hard. And, somehow, learning the intricacies of a language you already knew was even harder. Laurel was trying her damndest to pick up Québecois French as fast as humanly possible, but while she could conjugate l’imparfait in her sleep, the accent and vocabulary were what was really throwing her off. But she intended on making a life in Montréal, and staying as long as she could, so there really wasn’t any option but to hit the books. Immersion worked for some people, and thank God she knew the medical terminology to communicate with her patients and their families, but it wasn’t quite the same when she was struggling through telling the mechanic her car needed an oil change. In a perfect world she’d have someone to help her one-on-one, but she didn’t want to ask Madeline for that big of a favor. And while she made decent money at the hospital — she could afford her own apartment and had a little left over every month to put into savings — it was nowhere near enough to pay for a tutor. So Duolingo, and podcasts, and Youtube lessons it was.

Letting out a groan, Laurel leaned her head into her hands, shutting her laptop. She wasn’t going to make any progress being this frustrated. She bent down to scratch Piper, whose favorite spot for naps was a blanket right beside Laurel’s desk, between the ears, pulling her leash and collar off of their book by her bedroom door. Piper’s ears perked up, and soon enough she was running around the apartment wagging her tail as fast as it could go, a slightly exasperated but nevertheless laughing Laurel following. She finally managed to clip on her leash; at fifty pounds, Piper still had a little bit of growing left to do, but she had already proven she was more than capable of bending the will of a full-grown and otherwise capable 23-year-old woman.

She had discovered Parc Saint-François-d’Assise a few weeks after adopting Piper, and had thanked her lucky stars for finding a dog park so close to her apartment. Having a schedule like hers meant that she couldn’t always get her to a weekly training or obedience class — plus, the French that she did know certainly didn’t include ‘heel’ — so the time spent socializing was well-appreciated. It was only a fifteen minute walk, and Piper was good enough on a leash that she only stopped once to bark at a squirrel in one of the many birch trees that lined the street. The park was an acre or two, small enough that she could see all the way across and keep an eye on Piper as she let her off-leash, but big enough that there was more than enough room for all the animals. It wasn’t particularly crowded that Friday; Laurel was confused for a moment before she remembered that most people were busy at 11 AM on a weekday. There were a few families, with kids out for the summer from school, and a man playing in the far corner with his two small dogs, but not much else.

Laurel leaned down, unclipping the leash from Piper’s collar, and gave the chocolate lab a scratch on the head. “Have fun, girl!” Piper never needed much encouragement, and took off running almost before Laurel had even wrapped up her leash. Rolling her eyes and laughing, she picked up her phone. A text from Allison, one of her only friends in the city aside from Madeline, inviting her out for her birthday next week. Madeline, giving her the address for the restaurant the next night. The Duolingo owl, threatening her with bodily harm if she didn’t log her language progress for the day. She was so engrossed in checking her email that she didn’t hear the shout for her to look out, or the two bulldogs barreling towards her at full speed, until they had knocked her off her feet and she landed straight on her ass.

“Desolé. Vas-tu bien?” The man asked, holding out a hand and helping her up. Laurel nodded, brushing the dirt off her jeans.

“Ouais, ouais. Pas de problème, pas de mal. Ils sont chiens, non?”

He chuckled, patting the smaller of the two bulldogs, which had decided to take a break from accosting passers-by to get petted. “C’est vrai.” They talked for another minute or two before saying goodbye, but she could have sworn it was an hour.

Walking Piper home half an hour later, Laurel was struck with two realizations. The mystery man — bulldog dad, as she had started calling him in her internal monologue — had very possibly the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen in her life, and she’d be cursing herself for the next week for not getting his number.

June 6 (sat)

Saturday meant Laurel had a day off, but more importantly, Saturday meant she didn’t have to set her alarm for 5:30 and could actually wake up at a semi-normal hour. Her internal clock didn’t wake her up until half past seven; even then, it was Piper’s soft barks that finally got her up, throwing on a pait of shorts, and leading her out to the courtyard down the hallway to use the bathroom before coming back to her apartment and throwing open the fridge doors. No 7 AM shift meant that she mercifully had enough time to make a proper breakfast. On shift days, there never seemed to be enough time to actually sit down and eat, and Laurel usually ended up just having a quick bowl of cereal or some overnight oats and making a protein shake to drink on the drive over. Eggs, bread, yogurt, a peach she had picked up from the farmer’s market.

After the bread was done toasting and her tea was finished steeping, she gingerly carried the food out to the balcony, placing it on the table as Piper trotted out behind her. Laurel crunched her toast with one hand as she flipped the pages of a book with the other, a Shirley Chisholm biography that Victoria, her best friend from high school, had recommended her. It was almost an hour later when she finally found a good place to stop. As much as she may have liked to just camp out on her balcony all day and blow through the rest of the book, her pantry was crying out for a grocery run and she was running desperately low on ice cream.

---

The dinner reservation was at 7, and by 6:30 Laurel was almost ready to leave. Her blue skirt fanned out on the couch as she sat killing time on her phone, tapping the floor nervously with the same pair of block heels that she’d worn to her university graduation. The restaurant wasn’t far from her apartment building, so a few minutes later, she decided to go, leaving Piper with a pat on the head and plenty of food in her bowl. Laurel laughed to herself on the way over, her eyes flickering over the skyline as she walked alongside the St. Lawrence River.

It’s like what she had told Madeline over and over again, every time she tried to set her up on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She wasn’t actively looking for a relationship but wouldn’t be opposed to it. Whatever happens, happens. Biting her lip, Laurel decided that even if she didn’t hit it off with whatever guy Madeline was trying to set her up, even if things go horribly wrong and he’s the exact opposite of what she’s looking for in a partner, she’ll get a free meal and, hopefully, a new friend.

Laurel hadn’t been told much about her blind date, or anything, really. She didn’t even know his name. From what she had been able to figure out, he was from the area but didn’t work in Canada most of the year — so maybe he was in business? All Madeline told her was that he was tall, attractive, and had a dog. Or was it two? She honestly couldn’t remember. She trusted her and Patrice’s judgement, so if he had gotten their stamp of approval, it was good enough for her. She grabbed her phone out of her bag as she neared the restaurant, letting Madeline know she was almost there and asking where to meet her. She told the hostess she was meeting some friends, and Madeline walked around the corner less than a minute later. “Hi, love!” she said, reaching out and wrapping Laurel in a warm hug. “We’re over this way.” Laurel followed her around the corner and past the bar to a four-seater against the wall. She slid into the seat closest to the wall, leaving a space empty.

“He should be back in a minute, just ran to the bathroom,” Patrice said, nodding towards the vacant seat and referring to her mystery man. A minute passed, Laurel scanning the wine list, before Madeline threw her hand up in greeting.

“Salut, PL!” When Laurel looked up, she almost dropped her menu.

“Oh my God!” The stranger — PL’s — eyes widened in recognition. “You’re the bulldog dad!”

He chuckled, rounding the table to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. Left, then right. It had taken Laurel a while to get used to; even going to university in Toronto, cheek kissing was practically obsolete, but that changed very quickly upon her move to Montréal. “I am. Pierre-Luc Dubois, good to meet you properly this time.”

Madeline looked between the two, clearly confused. “You know each other?”

Laurel shook her head. “Not really, no. His dogs ran into me at the park yesterday when I was there with Piper, we talked for a minute or two.”

Pierre nodded in affirmation. “So, Piper. The chocolate lab’s yours then?”

“My pride and joy.”

June 13 (sun)

Over the next week and a half, it became more and more common for Laurel to meet up with the group on the weekend, or one of her off days, or really whenever she had spare time. She had learned that Pierre-Luc was a hockey player, Patrice explaining that they had played atom league together growing up and the friendship had somehow stuck. Come to think of it, he had looked a little familiar. The University of Minnesota Duluth was less than an hour drive from her hometown, and besides being the college that the majority of the 50% of college-bound graduates of her high school went to, it also had one of the best hockey programs in the country. So she knew the sport, followed enough to be informed, and had even become a de facto Maple Leafs fan from her time in Toronto.

Sometimes Madeline and Laurel would bring another friend from the hospital along, sometimes it was just the four of them. Once, a Sunday afternoon coffee meetup turned into just Laurel and Pierre-Luc; Patrice had come down with a bad cold and Madeline was staying behind to look after him. If she was being honest, it was far less awkward than she had anticipated. Pierre had insisted on buying her iced capp, and they had settled in a corner booth, sharing a box of Timbits.

“Patrice mentioned you’re from the U.S., somewhere in the Midwest?” Pierre asked, sipping his coffee.

She nodded. “Cloquet, Minnesota,” Laurel sighed, “where there is exactly one hotel, one high school, and life revolves around the mines.”

Pierre sucked in. “That sounds...interesting,” he said diplomatically.

Laurel laughed. “It’s okay, you don’t have to mince words. The people are nice, if you think like they do, and the scenery is gorgeous, but…” She gathered her thoughts. “It’s not the place you can really dream big, you know?” He nodded. “Neither of my parents went to college, my mom’s a receptionist at the elementary school and my dad works in the mines. I knew by the time I was in high school that I wanted something more. There was just nothing for me there, and I didn’t ever want to feel as trapped and beaten down as some people I know.”

Pierre leaned back in his chair. “Do you go back often?”

“Once a year, maybe twice?” Laurel said, shaking her head. “I’ve only got a few good friends back there, and trust me, they’re much more excited to come to big-city Canada than I would be to go back to a town of 12,000 people.”

“Fair enough.”

Conversation between them flowed easily, so easily that before she knew it, two hours had gone by and he had to leave for a skate. As she walked back to the metro, Laurel couldn’t help but shake the feeling that the two hours she had spent with Pierre had felt more like a date than any she’d been on since moving to Montréal a year ago. But it couldn’t have been a date, because it wasn’t supposed to be. Right?

June 15 (tues)

It was half past seven on Tuesday, and Laurel was just getting home from work. She loved her job, genuinely, but twelve hour shifts were no joke. Spinning her key ring around her finger, she stopped in the mailroom, unlocking her box and fishing out the stack of envelopes that had accumulated in the two days since she’d last checked. Walking over to the elevators, she held the bundle in one hand as the other punched in her button to the third floor. Laurel flipped through the envelopes as the doors opened. Water bill, bank statement, letter from Immigration, Refugees, and Citizenship Canada. Hang on. Laurel stopped at the last envelope, running her finger under the flap as she turned her key in the lock, opening the door with her hip and letting it slam shut behind her.

She had applied a little over a month ago for her permanent residency card, which she had been assured by everyone she asked would be a relatively easy and painless process. “You’re a nurse, and a good one. I could use ten of you,” her charge nurse had stated. “You went to school here, you have a Canadian degree and a Canadian license. There’s no reason they would cause you any trouble,” Madeline had said. And she had done her due diligence, double-checked every piece of information, checked off every document on the list. Done everything she was supposed to do. So when she unfolded the paper, the words shocked her.

Denied. Laurel brought her hand shakily up to her mouth as her eyes raced down the letter. No explanation was given, all she was told was that her application had been rejected and she had until September 17, when her work visa expired, to leave the country. The first thing Laurel did was frantically grab her laptop, seeing if there was some way she could apply for a visa extension, but the deadline had passed; she’d have to go back to the consulate in Minneapolis and try to re-apply from there, but her chances weren’t good if she’d already been rejected. The second thing she did was collapse on the floor, Piper nosing herself under her arm, and cry.

June 16 (wed)

When the group met up for lunch the next day, Madeline noticed something was off about Laurel almost immediately. Normally someone who was hyper-focused on the task at hand, she was stirring her straw around in her glass, nibbling at a piece of bread and answering questions shortly if at all. “What’s up?” she asked carefully, catching Laurel’s eye as she tried to busy herself with straightening her napkin. There wasn’t really a way she could get out of answering that one.

“I, uh, I got a letter yesterday,” she said. Pierre and Patrice stopped their conversation. All eyes were on her. “From immigration services. They told me,” her eyes pricked with tears, “they told me my PR application was denied, and I only have until the middle of September before I have to leave.”

“Like, leave the country?” Pierre asked. She nodded. “But can’t you renew your visa or something?”

“No, I looked into everything.” Laurel said in frustration, shaking her head. “There’s not enough time for it to be processed, I’d have to go back and reapply in the States, and even then the chances aren’t great.”

Madeline leaned over, wrapping Laurel up in a hug. “Oh, Laur. I’m so sorry,” she said. “You don’t deserve this.”

“It’s just hard,” Laurel started, “knowing that there’s nothing there for me back home. That’s the whole reason why I came to Canada in the first place, to get away. To get out. I’d have to retake all my licensure exams and find a new job and I don’t want to have to start all over when that’s not at all what I planned for. I thought I’d stay. I thought this was going to be my home”

“I can call my friend who’s a lawyer, see if he’s got any ideas?” Patrice offered.

Laurel smiled weakly “Thanks, Patrice, but I really don’t think they’d be able to do much. I was on the website for hours, and there’s like two ways I wouldn’t be kicked out of the country. And I don’t think I’m going to be able to give birth by September 17,” she said, letting out a watery laugh.

“You’d have to marry someone or something to stay,” Madeline said.

“Yeah, that’s the only other way it was going to happen,” Laurel agreed. “But seeing as how I’m obscenely single, I don’t see that happening…” She trailed off.

“I’d marry you,” Pierre said suddenly, shrugging.

Laurel’s head whipped to her side. “You’d what?”

“I’d marry you. We’re both single, by all accounts you’re an amazing nurse and deserve to stay. We get married, stay ‘together’ for a few years until you get your citizenship, and then tragically inform the citizenship and immigration people that while we tried, it just didn’t work out, and get a divorce. Easy peasy.”

Laurel almost burst out laughing, the idea was so ridiculous. She almost couldn’t wrap her head around what he was offering to do. He couldn’t be serious. Right?

---

Laurel slung her arm over her head, body tangled up in bedsheets. According to her phone, it was well past one. She couldn’t sleep. She had tried rain sounds, counting sheep, drinking a cup of chamomile tea, but nothing was working; she just wasn’t able to still her mind. Honestly, she couldn’t stop thinking about lunch earlier. More specifically, what Pierre had said.

As much of a bad person as it may have made her sound, the more she thought about Pierre’s offer, the more it made sense. He was incredibly attractive, so it wouldn’t be hard to fake a marriage to him for a few years. She really didn’t keep in contact with anyone from back home in Cloquet aside from her family and a few friends from high school, so it’s not like there would really be anyone to blow her cover. And she really, really wanted to stay in Canada. It wasn’t just the scenery, or the general human decency of everyone, or even the universal healthcare that pushed her to stay. She had fallen in love with the people, the city, and didn’t want to go down without a fight.

Rolling over, she grabbed her phone from her nightstand, pulling up Pierre’s contact. Hey, she texted. Laurel immediately cursed herself as the three dots popped up on his side. Hey? She was going to ask this man to marry her and the best she could come up with was hey? He wrote back immediately. Hey. You’re up late, what’s up? Laurel took a deep breath. How serious were you about offering to marry me? His second response was even faster than the first. As a heart attack.

#hockey imagine #hockey writing #pierre luc dubois #hockey smut #nhl imagine #hockey #nhl imagines #nhl smut #hockey imagines #nhl writing #nhl

152 notes · View notes

soundrooms · 3 years ago

Text

Soundrs: William Fields

My name is William Fields. I live in Arden, Delaware, just south of Philadelphia on the East Coast of the USA. I make non-functional, future-oriented electronic music.

My newest album is ➜ Bokuseki My 24-hour algorithmic music project is ➜ FieldsOS My website is ➜ https://williamfields.com/ On social media:

➜ Twitter

➜ Instagram Why do you make music? I played the drums for a bit as a kid, but otherwise I am self-taught. I grew up listening to a lot of different music, but hiphop was a big part of it. I discovered electronic music in high school and was hooked for life. For some reason it resonates with my brain. On a fundamental level, I suppose I make music because I enjoy the process and because the results are rewarding. Music provides me with an endless source of learning and exploration and problems to solve. It gives me a sense of accomplishment and pride. And maybe in some small way, it’s given me an opportunity to inspire others and leave the world a little better than I found it. On a practical level, music has given me the opportunity to connect with really great people around the world and to travel occasionally for shows, which adds some adventure and excitement to my life. What are your inspiration sources? Rhythm: Photek, Squarepusher, Untold, Rian Treanor, Mark Fell, Kindohm Sonics: Autechre, Drum and bass (Noisia & friends) Groove: J Dilla, Flying Lotus, Aoki Takamasa Improvisation: Jazz, Indian Classical Ideas: Brian Eno, John Cage, Thich Nhat Hanh, Yuval Noah Harari, Austin Kleon, George Saunders, Haruki Murakami, various podcasts, my good friend Qebo. Tell us something about your workflow. I am always working on my music system (my “instrument”): adding features, removing features, adjusting algorithms, refining, tweaking, etc. You could think of my system as a huge, complex modular patch with hundreds of modules, that has a nice UI, full generative capabilities, and easy state management, but at a tiny fraction of the cost and it fits in my backpack. I ♥ Computers In the process of working on my system, I will occasionally feel inspired by something, so I will hit record and improvise. Most of these improvisations are crap and get thrown away. But, occasionally something magical happens, and those recordings end up getting released. If I know I have a release coming up, I will sometimes have dedicated recording sessions. Some of my favorite releases (like Shackamaxon) have been recorded in the course of a single day. How would creative rituals benefit your workflow? Good question. I don’t practice any creative rituals. But, I’m pretty sure going for a vigorous walk beforehand is a good idea. Gets the blood flowing to the brain.

How do you get in the zone? It usually takes me around fifteen minutes before things really start flowing. So the first few tracks of a session tend to be stiff and self-conscious. In a stressful live performance situation, I’ve found that a little bit of tequila helps! How do you start a track? These days, my tracks tend to start with a snapshot that is algorithmically generated by my music system. It is much better at finding interesting musical spaces than I am. So, I will sit there and hit the randomize button until something inspiring comes out. Then I will hit record and improvise with it. I also keep a collection of interesting snapshots that I can load at random. So sometimes I will flip through those until I find something good and improvise based on that. Do you have a special template? Yes! I never start from a blank slate. The template is everything. It is my instrument. It has been burned into my muscle memory. I can control the music without thinking about it. I have been working on it since 2012. The fundamental structure is: LEMUR (controller) ➜ Javascript (for state generation/capture/recall) ➜ REAPER (sequencing, synthesis, fx) REAPER is the core of my music system. It is where the sequences are generated, the synthesis is done, and the FX are applied.

The visuals are generated in real time, triggered by the music via MIDI. So there is very tight correlation between audio and visual events. I am not using audio analysis. The visuals are done in Javascript, running in Chromium. I use Visual Studio Code for development.

For the visuals I am mainly using three.js. Thank you Mr. Doob! On the music side, I am hugely indebted to Justin Frankel (REAPER) and the Surge Synth Team. What I do would not be possible without their amazing work. What do you put on the master channel? I try to put as little as possible on the master channel. I have some metering stuff like a spectrum analyzer, an oscilloscope, a goniometer, and a loudness meter. Other than that, the only thing is a waveshaper. It adds saturation, glues everything together nicely, and tames the peaks without reducing the impact of the transients. I’m not sure of the technical term, but it’s a special kind of waveshaper that folds over the waveform when it hits 0 dbFS instead of flat-topping it. How do you arrange and finish a track? I perform and record the music in real time to a single stereo pair. I don’t do any arrangement, layering, or multi-track editing after the fact. How do you store and organize your projects? When I record something, it goes onto the desktop and on to my phone. When I listen back to it later, if it has potential for release, I put it in a “Release Candidates” folder. Otherwise I throw it in the archive, probably never to be heard again. When it’s time to compile a release, I go through the “Release Candidates” folder and pick out my favorite stuff.

How do you take care of studio ergonomics? I work in software, so my physical studio setup is very minimal. I have a motorized standing desk, so I can easily switch between sitting and standing. Tell us something about your daily routine, how is your day structured, how do you make room for creativity? I work at a day job four days a week to make a living. I have Fridays off and focus on music. I’ve found that mornings are best for detail-oriented tasks like programming and critical listening related to the mix/mastering of my system. Afternoons seem to be best for improvising and recording. Sometimes I wonder if all this music stuff is just an elaborate excuse for me to play with computers. Having said that, I am always thinking about music, listening back to recordings, taking notes on my phone, and making small adjustments throughout the week. I don’t need a big chunk of time. I am able to work in small bits here and there. Also, sometimes while working my day job I set my system to auto-generate new music every thirty seconds. Occasionally something really good will happen and I’ll run over to my computer and hit “Save” so I can perform with it later. Share a quick producing tip. (1) Don’t start from scratch every time! Build your instrument. Practice with it. Develop your muscle memory so it becomes fast and intuitive. This approach helps you to develop your own voice, and it’s much more fun than laboring over a DAW for endless hours until you hate your own music! (2) Always level match when doing A/B comparisons. If a plugin is increasing gain by as little as 0.1 db, it will sound better to your ear, even if it is actually damaging the sound. (3) Process as close to the source as possible. Instead of putting it on the master, put it on a bus. Instead of putting it on a bus, put it directly on the track. Instead of processing the track, fix it directly in the synthesis. Share a link to an interesting website (doesn’t have to be music related). I just discovered the Solarpunk movement and I think it’s really inspiring. Here’s the ➜ Solarpunk manifesto. List ten sounds you are hearing right this moment : ) Cicadas Airplanes Cars in the distance Computer keyboard clacking as I type My own breathing That’s all I got. The cicadas are too loud!

Thank you William! Any other mad sound scientists out there?

#soundrs #william fields #interview #workflow #inspiration #creativity #music #musician #electronic music #generative music

19 notes · View notes

maaji-maji-majima · 4 years ago

Note

some kissing hcs for Majima?(if u can make it nsfw)

So I'm in a weird place with this. I don't want to leave you unanswered but I know you won't like the answer that I give. It has been a long time since I was active on tumblr and I'm not sure when along the timeline headcanon became synonymous with fanfiction. I appreciate fanfiction authors for their creativity, but I am not one myself. I use headcanon in the older definition of "this isn't in the source material, but it is true in my brain". They are either random things my half asleep mind thought of while walking home from work or a character analysis. At the same token your ask had crawled into my brainmeats and won't leave. So again, I apologize that this most definitely is not what you're looking for, but I hope someone out there finds this to be an interesting read.

Without further introduction, here is a character analysis of our favorite pansexual, gender fluid, emotionally stunted goblin in regards to relationships and why the he desperately needs therapy as brought to you by a different pansexual, gender fluid, emotionally stunted goblin who got therapy but probably needs more.

Trigger warnings: Abuse, self harm, mental disorders, poor coping strategies, unhealthy relationships, random tense changes, not fanfiction

Spoilers for the whole franchise, but very specifically for 0, K1, and 5.

Abuse does weird things to people's brains. In Yakuza 0 Majima has barely been out of the hole for a year. He might no longer be suffering the actual physical torture he had been subjected to the year prior, but he is still directly in the hands of his abusers and being watched every moment. He is still in a cage even if it doesn't look like one. He is depressed and likely suicidal, but doesn't follow through with those thoughts because he is determined to make sure Saejima has a home to come back to. He is willing to endure just about anything to allow Saejima a chance to exact that final moment of retribution because Saejima is the one who deserves it and Majima doesn't feel that there is any possibility for forgiveness. In all likelihood he hasn't sought out anyone for a hookup or paid company for an evening due to a combination of not feeling like he deserves anything that feels good and the fact that he's constantly being watched. The year in hole means he no longer really has a concept of privacy, but he's worried that getting close to someone, even for a few moments, could put them in danger if Sagawa or Shimano feels like holding something else over his head. It isn't worth accidentally dragging someone into his own personal hell. He no longer lives for the present, he is only living for that far-off future that he hopes isn't just a pipe dream.

Enter Makoto. At first she is a stand-in for Saejima's sister Yasuko, but it morphs rapidly from there. She is the light and kindness and hope that he hasn't seen in years and she's being dragged into his bullshit. He knows in his heart of hearts that she doesn't deserve what she is being forced into, so his mind snaps into the immediate and does everything he possibly can to save her. This is is the hill he wants to die on. Maybe, just maybe, he can end his miserable existence with a final act of good and he feels that Saejima might just be able to understand. But because he no longer has any relationships in his life that are not strictly professional or the abusers he cannot escape, he has little recollection of what a nuanced relationship or even friendship is any longer. Due to circumstance she is also the only person that he cannot keep at arm's length, no matter how desperately he tries. So he falls for her and falls hard. But in the end, after everything they go through he does the impossible. He lets her go. She has a life and a future, whereas he has neither of those. What would she do? Become his ane-san? Have some temporary happiness before she realizes she has a target on her back for the rest of her life? No. Majima believes she deserves so much more than that even though it hurts him deeply. What is one more hurt on top of everything else? He's gotten extremely good at burying his pain.

Getting to Tokyo flips a switch in Majima's brain. Like many people with mental trauma who don't have access to therapy he falls into excess as a way of self medicating. He fits virtually everything on the hedonism checklist. Drinking? Yeah. Violence? Hell yeah! Promiscuity? Yeah, but I ain't judging. Drugs? Probably, even though it isn't explicitly stated in game. Everything from his shift in personality to his wardrobe has become, intentionally or not, a defense mechanism. He has escaped from all of his abusers except for Shimano and he refuses to allow anyone to gain that kind of power over him again.

It is a double edged sword, however. His depression and PTSD are running unchecked. In all likelihood he hasn't fallen hard on vices as a way to reclaim ownership off his own body. Instead it seems more probable that he is dissociating. After everything he has been through he doesn't care what happens to his body in the long run because it isn't actually his anymore. Risky behavior, which is practically Majima's middle name, is also frequently used as a passive form of self harm because the end result is either temporarily feeling better thanks to endorphins and adrenaline or permanently feeling better after embracing death. He could achieve a similar feeling by taking up jogging and chasing a runners high, but that takes more time and energy than chugging a handle of whiskey or goading some chump into throwing hands. Sadly even now admitting to mental problems by seeking help is fairly stigmatized in Japan and it was only worse in the early 90s. Can't have a problem if no one tells you it's there, right?

Then he meets Mirei. She's intense but not wild like Majima. At that moment in time she is everything he needs. Head strong, domineering, and very, very determined. She knows exactly what buttons to press to wrap him right around her finger. And he lets her take the reigns, lets her run his life because he realizes he was doing a terrible job on his own. Better her than Shimano, right? Doing something wrong results in the cold shoulder instead of a vicious beating, and doing something right leads to more than simply the relief of avoiding a beating. He decides that making her happy is enough to make him happy. Until suddenly it isn't. He never wanted to be a father, but even the idea that he could have been was enough to cause a fundamental shift in his entire outlook on life. He could have had someone to live for, instead of just survive for. But he had no say in the matter and didn't know until the decision had been made for him. When Mirei told him she had an abortion he snapped. He hit her. The one and only time he raised his hands against her. Disgusted with himself, and wounded by her decision, he left. If he was capable of that, he knew couldn't be the person she had been trying to mold him into. He realized he was nothing but a weight around her neck dragging her down. And so that day signals the end of their short marriage. He spends the next several decades drowning in guilt for his actions while still resenting her for her choice.

That leaves us with Kiryu. Poor, oblivious Kiryu. Majima's fixation is multifaceted but in no small part due to the fact that Kiryu is one of the few people strong enough to hurt him, but is the only one that doesn't want to. And Majima just doesn't understand. After everything, he only deserves to hurt, right? Saejima, Yasuko, Makoto, Mirei. Everyone who gets too close to him ends up worse for it, so why won't Kiryu and his sense of honor seek justice on their behalf? So he does everything he possibly can to wind up Kiryu enough to Pay Attention Damnit, Fight Me. But Kiryu's response is always just flustered awkwardness because he doesn't want like fighting, it's just a part of his job, like wearing a suit or answering a phone. To Kiryu fighting isn't a thing done because it's enjoyable, it's done because it has to be. But he's still the only one who doesn't flinch when Majima brandishes a knife inches from his face.

And then Kiryu is arrested and in jail for ten years. And ten years is a long time to build someone up onto a pedestal. Like only wanting to talk about the best of a person after they've died. The same thing happened with Saejima. Build them in his mind to what he wants or needs them to be since they are not there to actively correct it. The decade is pretty miserable, going through the motions and trying to not make waves with the bigwigs while terrifying the minions into obedience. When he hears Kiryu is being released it is like waking up again. He all but waits at the taxi stand at the entrance of Kamurocho on the day of Kiryu's release, all but vibrating with excitement. It's a fight he has been waiting on for a decade, too bad it was little more than a disappointment.

So Majima decides to bring him back up to spec in that very Majima flavored way. Small fights, big fights, surprise fights. Kiryu is still reluctant because he doesn't have a reason beyond Majima's dreamed up training program he doesn't actually want to be a part of. Of course this only leads Majima to do everything possible to get under Kiryu's skin, including sharing his personal vulnerabilities while disguising them as jokes just to cause fights, but Kiryu just kind of rolls with it which leads to confusion and frustration on both sides. After a while Majima starts to get into Kiryu's hobbies, like pocket circuit, ostensibly as another form of picking a fight. And he discovers he actually enjoys a lot of it. And they are both too dense and emotionally stunted to realize they're basically dating at this point. At multiple points Majima takes potentially lethal blows meant for Kiryu and the excuse that he is the only one allowed to kill Kiryu is very, very thin. He just can't quite admit out loud that he doesn't want to see Kiryu truly hurt because that's weakness and he is Not Weak (tm).

Shimano's death and Kiryu's departure from the clan come as a whirlwind that destroys him all over again. He's left directionless. So he leaves the Tojo in an attempt to find his own way in the world, for the first time in over twenty years.

I think I need to call it here for now. I know I've left out Saejima and Daigo, among others, but I've been working on this for days and my progress has been eaten twice and I just don't have the energy to keep going right at this time. Maybe some day in the future I'll find the time and energy to write out the rest for all the other games.

tl;dr What Majima wants and what he needs are two different things. He wants to fightfuck, but he needs to be bear hugged into submission so that he can have that mental breakdown he's been carefully bottling up for over thirty years. He needs a good, ugly cry. And therapy. Lots and lots of therapy.

#ask #character analysis #not fanfiction #yakuza games #yakuza headcanons #majima character analysis #rgg #rgg games #majima #majima goro #broken people doing broken things

33 notes · View notes

2seokfan · 4 years ago

Text

Scarlet & Hazel | Ch. 3

pairings: hoseok x reader x yoongi

genre: fluff, very light angst, smut (future)

word count: 6k

chapters: ch.1, ch.2, ch.3. ch.4

summary:

Just cause you’re living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny apartment even after graduating college doesn’t mean you’re not happy. So what if your best friend is working her dream job making close to six figures every year? So what if she’s in a loving, committed relationship with her perfect boyfriend that you’re 99% sure is going to propose to her sometime next year? It doesn’t matter that your idea of a perfect relationship is a $9.99 bottle of wine on Friday nights while you binge watch Netflix specials.

Ok so maybe you’re a teensy bit miserable. Maybe you have no idea what you’re doing with your life. Maybe all you need to do is accidentally cross paths with two hybrids who will drastically change that.

Meet “Scarlet” and “Hazel”, two of the most gorgeous hybrid men you have ever laid eyes on. With their help, you learn that life is an adventure, a roller-coaster with ups and downs, and you were too preoccupied with yourself to climb out of your own predicament. And hey, you’re not much of a romantic, but with these two, you just might change your mind.

a/n: Hello, Jun here! Whew this took a while to write but thank you for your patience!! (poor Y/N still doesn’t know their real names but maybe she’ll find out soon?) Any feedback is appreciated <3

tag list: @wilhelminalucinda @ghostkat23 @ayoo-bangtan @sadgurllayha

2 months later.

August is relentless. You’re sweaty all the time and you have no choice but the crank up the a/c every single day. This heat wave is incredibly brutal because all you want to do is stay at home eating ice cream in your underwear but instead you’re stuck working overtime to pay for what you assume will be a record-high electricity bill. Fuck you global warming.

It’s currently Tuesday. You’re on lunch break at work, chowing down on a falafel wrap and scrolling through your phone, when a text pops up from Karli.

Karli: Don’t forget!

You: ???

Karli: This friday?

You scratch your head. Wtf?

You: What’s on friday?

Karli: Umm the date? Remember?

No you didn’t. Your dumbass actually forgot about a whole date. You can’t believe yourself. Karli finally set you up with that accountant guy from her job. What’s his name again? Brad? Brandon?

You: oh yeah! my bad haha

Karli: You forgot his name didn’t you?

You: …maybe

Karli: Lol it’s Bryce sweetie

Karli: He’s really sweet! Just give it a shot

You: of course i will

You: i’ll turn up my maximum charm

Karli: Dats my girlllll

Karli: Ugh gtg it’s my boss

Karli: Bye!

You: bye babe

You set your phone down, trying to envision this upcoming Friday. Karli mentioned she gave Bryce your phone number, and he’ll text you sometime this week about your date, so at least you don’t have to make any moves first. She did show you his picture though, being the wingman that she is by stalking all his social media just for you. You’ve gotta admit he is cute, the profile picture showed him sporting a casual smile, with blonde hair and blue eyes. The classic boy-next-door look.

“And he’s most likely not a serial killer!” You remember her declaring a few weeks ago, after scrolling through all his tweets. And when you say all his tweets you mean EVERY Single tweet from when he created his account in high school till now. Your best friend does not fuck around.

“Thanks I appreciate that. Glad he’ll ‘most likely’ not kill me.” You rolled your eyes and grinned at her.

While you munch away the rest of your lunch, you think about how you just aren’t acting like yourself lately. In any other circumstance, you would’ve found yourself more excited for the date. Hell, in any other circumstance you would’ve at LEAst remembered his name, or thought about what to wear by now, or even stalked his social media along with Karli. There’s just a teensy problem though. See, in the past few months you happen to have met two boys who completely changed your standards in men. And you may have maybe developed the tiniest crush on both of them, at the same time. Like how?? You didn’t think you were physically capable of doing that?

You sigh, staring at the rest of your falafel wrap, and force yourself to accept reality. As much as you adore them, you know that your little crush will be completely unreciprocated. This you found out through your group chat, now named ‘Hazel’s Nuts’ (courtesy of Scarlet). It’s not that you confessed to them or anything, they just happened to let slip to you one day that they’re a mated pair. And hybrids mate for life, so they take that shit very seriously. Although this news stung a little, it didn’t cause you to be envious in any way. At the end of the day, crush or not, you’re just glad you have two more people in your life you can confidently call your close friends.

For the past two months you’ve actively kept up with them. Sometimes you’ll send memes back and forth all night, sometimes you’ll group call each other after work. Every once in a while, when they’re not busy doing whatever it is they’re doing, they facetime you. These are your favorite moments because you get to see them in all their attractive glory. Just because they don’t like you that way doesn’t mean a girl can’t deny herself some eye candy.

You guys never run out of things to talk about. Each day you check the group chat and it’ll be popping. Your topics range from the movie that just came out, restaurants they discovered, to even discussing new criminal cases (you got Hazel into watching true crime Youtube videos and now he’s entirely hooked). Sometimes you just sit back and watch the two boys bicker back and forth. It’s hysterical how they decide to argue through text since you’re sure both of them are probably in the same room together, but you appreciate them keeping you in the loop.

At this point they’ve already virtually met Karli. She’s been in the background of one or two of your facetimes. You’re glad she approves of them instantly and you wonder if it has a little something to do with their, especially Scarlet’s, boyish charms. She does keep you grounded though, never failing to mention how it’s suspicious that you don’t know their real names yet.

“I don’t think they mean any harm and they seem genuinely nice,” she had reassured, “But you gotta admit not telling you their names is a little sketch.”

You just shrugged. “They have their reasons.”

Internally you do believe she has a point. Even though you don’t want to force information out of the boys, you’re a naturally curious person. Your mind has already compiled a list of all the unusual facts you’ve discovered about them.

A couple of things have become clear to you over the span of the last few months. The most important fact is that although they share tons of content with you, you still have no idea what they do for a living. You’re also 90% sure they don’t have an owner since there’s never anyone else around them. Another, more interesting fact is that you suspect they’re actually pretty wealthy. Every time you facetime, they’re in some sort of lavish looking hotel penthouse, with fancy furniture and artwork hanging in the background. They also dress designer, occasionally flashing their Balenciaga hats, or little Gucci necklaces, or other fancy logos your peasant-ass is unfamiliar with. You actually googled one of Hazel’s t-shirts from your most recent facetime, having no idea what the FG logo stood for. You remember your eyes bulging out of your head after discovering his plain white shirt with two black letters cost more than $200. TWO HUNDred dollars?!!! Do you know how much food and gas you could buy with $200? Why in the fuck would he spend that much on a shirt??

If only you knew how much their watches cost.

Friday rolls around faster than you can blink and before you know it, you’re rushing home from work to get ready. Bryce texted you for the first time on Wednesday to see if you wanted sushi (hell yeah you did) and you were fortunate enough to notify your boss so you could be let out early. You’ve been such a work horse the last few months that they had no choice but to let you leave in advance.

So far Bryce seems nice enough but you can’t get a proper gauge of his character through text. Oh well, guess you’ll find out tonight.

The sushi place you’re meeting at is on the fancier side, and includes a bar. Knowing yourself, if there’s a bar, there’s no car, which means you won’t be driving. The last thing you want is to leave your car parked somewhere sketchy overnight cause you accidentally got too tipsy to drive. You like to think you have some semblance of control but it’s always better to be safe than sorry.

You were let out at 4, which means you have only 2 hours to get ready. As soon as you get home you sprint to your closet at lightning speed. You rummage through your drawers, hoping to find something, ANYthing, that’s appropriate for this occasion. For one quick second, your eyes dart to your forbidden drawer, aka the ho drawer. It contains the remains of your slutty party dresses and tops from college. Being the hoarder that you are, you never like throwing away things, even if you have no need for them anymore. Wait, what the hell am I thinking? You snap your eyes back to the rest of your closet. You’re going for sushi, not to dance at some club. Besides, you have no intention of sleeping with anyone tonight.

After an hour of deciding on a suitable outfit you finally start on your makeup. Your work makeup has dried up, and now feels gross and cakey on your face, so you remove it all and start anew. At least you had the decency to shower this morning so your hair isn’t too gross.

The place is around a 10 minute Uber ride away but you took your sweet ass time getting ready so now you’re in a frenzy. When your phone buzzes, signaling your driver is here, you swipe on some lipstick last minute, grab some chunky heels, and practically fly out the door.

You stare out the window of your ride, wondering why you’re lowkey wishing you could spend Friday night at home watching tv instead, or even just spending the evening facetiming two hot hybrids. This all feels a little too rushed. But no, you shake your head and attempt to hype yourself up. C’mon Y/N this is the first real date you’ve been on in ages. At least TRy and be a little more motivated.

The car pulls up and you thank the driver, stepping out into the warm night air. August is still hot, even in the evenings, and you’re glad you didn’t bring a cardigan. Bryce has already texted you, letting you know he was inside, sitting at your reserved spot. You take a deep breath. Ok, time to put on your game face. You strut in, trying your very best to push the faces of two very good-looking friends out of your mind.

You spot Bryce in a corner, head buried in his phone, his wavy blonde hair not easy to miss. You slide in the seat across from him, prompting him to quickly look up and flash you an easygoing smile.

“Hello there!”

“Hi!” You chuckle nervously. “I hope I’m not too late.”

“Not all all!” He slides his phone back in his pocket, smile still on his face. “You’re just in time.”

A waiter comes by and you both take your orders. You make sure to order a drink because you have a feeling you’ll need the liquid courage to strike up more conversation. Maybe some sake will help ease you.

The first couple minutes are kinda awkward, not gonna lie. Bryce tries to get you to talk about work and you do answer him, but honestly work is the last thing you want to discuss right now. You try to shift the conversation to his job, but that only ends up being worse as he quickly launches into the ins and outs of life as an accountant. Maybe your two hybrids friends have spoiled you because you barely remember the last time you had to fill empty space with small talk.

When the food comes you quietly sigh a breath of relief, hoping the sushi in front of you will help you both get settled and give you time to think of more interesting topics to talk about.

“So,” you wrack your brain, “let’s get to know each other more! Like, what’s your favorite ice cream flavor?” That’s got to be a safe enough question.

“Hm, I’m actually more of a yogurt kinda guy, ice cream’s not really my thing.”

You freeze, California roll halfway to your mouth. Ok, ok, cool, cool. So he doesn’t like ice cream, that’s fine. You sweat a little. Hurry Y/N think of something else to ask.

“Yeah, I guess that’s not everybody’s thing.” You grimace. “Then what about, i don’t know, cookies? What’s your favorite kinda cookie?”

“Actually I prefer crackers, you know, like the saltine ones? Cookies can be too sweet sometimes.” He’s devouring his dragon roll, not noticing the panic in your eyes. He’s caught you off guard twice today.

This isn’t going well and you’re genuinely surprised because you know Karli has done her research, certain that you two would get along. Guess life really likes to throw you some curveballs.

Who the fuck prefers crackers over cookies anyway?? Ok. Code red! Change the fucking subject before the silence becomes unbearable. Your dessert-related ice breakers had never failed you before but there’s always a first for everything, you guess.

You take a generous swig of sake. “Right, crackers are... good.” You’re mumbling at this point. “Ok, um, what about hobbies? Got any?” Please throw me a fucking bone here! Your mind is reeling but externally you try to act calm and composed, dabbing at the corner or you mouth delicately with a napkin.

“Oh yeah!” His face lights up. Oh thank god. “Do you like football? Me and my buddies at the office sorta formed this team, and we play against other departments. It’s really fun! You should come by and watch sometime!”

“Uh, sure!” Football. Huh. The last time you were anywhere near a football was when you met someone from your college team at a bar. Well he wasn’t holding a football per se, but that counts right? You only remember how much of a douche he was, trying to hit on one of the girls from your group after getting entirely too wasted.

“Awesome! I’ll hit you up when the next game is set!” It’s almost impressive how he doesn’t notice all the tension emitting from your body. In fact, you have a feeling he’s actually enjoying himself and your company.

The rest of the dinner goes by in the same manner. With him happily answering all your questions and you slowly discovering just how little you both have in common.

He is a gentleman though, that you can’t deny. When all the food has been cleared away he immediately swoops in to pay the bill, ignoring your insistence at paying for your half at least. He really isn’t a bad person, just the opposite. Besides your difference in interests, he is a sweet guy overall, and you do find him to be physically attractive. There’s just no spark, no silver lining that keeps you wanting more. When you both get out of your seats he offers to drive you back to your place but you politely decline. You say it’s because you don’t want to trouble him but in reality you need space for yourself to think.

As soon as you arrive home you take off your shoes and plop yourself down on the couch, running your hands through your hair. You check your phone, a few notifications from ‘Hazel’s Nuts’ popping up.

Scarlet: Do you think she’s done with her date yet??

Hazel: Hey Y/N how was it?

You had told them about this date beforehand and they were excited to root for you, which did bruise your ego a bit since it reaffirmed your unreturned attraction to them, but also prompted you to go through with it. This last notification was from 45 minutes ago but you couldn’t reply since you were still at dinner.

You: hi I just got back!

You don’t expect them to respond right away but to your surprise:

Scarlet: And???

You: it was meh

Hazel: That bad huh?

You: no nothing like that!

You: he’s really cute and all, it’s just we basically have nothing in common

Scarlet: Aww poor Y/N (sad emojis)

Hazel: Hey happens to the best of us

Hazel: Actually I wouldn’t know cause I’ve only been with fox boy

You: thanks anyway, i appreciate it Hazel

Maybe it’s cause you’re a little tipsy, or maybe you just feel so open and vulnerable around them tonight, but the next text you send is especially honest.

You: ughhh idk guys i’m just so lonely!!! why can’t things just work out for me for once! Like the first real date I go on in years and this happens :(

They don’t respond for a long time. So long in fact you start to get worried that you exposed too much about yourself.

15 minutes pass by but to you it feels like hours. You’ve already removed all your makeup and changed into your pajama shirt. You relocate to your bed, checking your phone again, thinking of a way to play off your last text as a joke when:

Hazel: If you’re so lonely maybe you could adopt?

You grin to yourself, glad that they’re not being judgmental. Their concern for you resets your mood.

You: ha ha you know my apartment doesn’t allow pets

You: but honestly if i could i would, cause i’d definitely get a little kitty

Hazel: I’m flattered

You: thanks but i meant a real cat

Hazel: Either way i’m flattered

Scarlet: HEY what about foxes??

You: pretty sure owning a pet fox is illegal here Scar

Scarlet: (angry emojis)

Hazel: You heard what the lady said

You: anyways i’m going to bed

You: thanks for making me feel better guys <3

Hazel: Anytime

Scarlet: But hypothetically if foxes weren’t illegal you’d get a pet fox right??

You: of course i would sweetie

Scarlet: (happy emojis)

Scarlet: Yay!!! Goodnight Y/N!

Hazel: Night Y/N

You: night boys

You wake up next morning on your own time, checking your phone to see that you slept in till 11am. Wow, you haven’t slept that well in a while. Maybe it’s the stress from the previous weeks of non stop working, or the pressure to maintain your composure last night, but either way you knocked out like a rock. You sit up, lean back, and stretch your arms as far as they can go.

Today you’re meeting Karli at her place up north. She couldn’t ask you about last night since she was occupied, her seven year anniversary with her boyfriend Sunny coinciding with your date. But she assured you a couple days ago over facetime that today was going to be a girl’s day, no boyfriend included.

“Hey!” Sunny had popped out of nowhere in the video when he heard the news, a look of mock shock on his face. “I live here too! So what, you're just gonna kick me out of the house and leave me on the streets to starve?”

“My god stop being dramatic!” Karli had shoved him playfully off the screen. “I need girl time with Y/N and it’s not girl time if you’re in the house.”

“I can be one of the girls! Right Y/N?” He sounded betrayed.

“I know you can but I’m not the one who makes the rules.” You pointed out.

He sighed. “You got me there.”

Since you’re just spending time at Karli’s and getting takeout, you felt zero need to dress up. You washed your face, threw on an oversized t-shirt some old hookup left at your place (hey it was cute) and some tights, and tied your hair out of your face. This entire process took less than 30 minutes and next thing you know you’re ready to head out.

You sent Karli a quick text, letting her know you’re on the way. You grab a bottle of prosecco, your purse, and keys, saying a quick goodbye to your roommate Ayah on your way out. She gives you a small wave, reminding you that she, yet again, has to leave today for a whole week. You backtrack to give her a quick goodbye hug, telling her to drive safe, before you take off.

Karli’s place isn’t as far as the beach coffeehouse you frequent, but it’s still located in the wealthier side of town. The drive lasts a good 20 minutes but it feels a lot faster since you spend the whole time singing along to your favorite songs.

You pull up to Karli’s apartment complex, driving yourself to the guest parking space. Her apartment building is pretty tall, with a distant, but gorgeous view of the beach.

Karli squeals when she opens the door, immediately giving you a big hug. When you break apart you hold up the bottle of prosecco in your hand, waving it in front of her face.

“I know you have the ingredients here so let’s make some spritz!”

“Yay!”

Aperol spritz is your favorite at-home drink to make with Karli. She had gone on a short trip to Italy in the summer between her two years at grad school and tried the drink there, completely falling in love. She googled the recipe, made it for you one day, you had said “Oh FUck that’s good!”, and the rest is history.

She grabs the bottle and quickly relocates it to her kitchen. Her energy levels are sky high today and you wonder what’s got her so elated. She’s skipping everywhere she goes, there’s a permanent smile etched on her face, and she’s humming non stop as she pulls you away from the front entrance.

Sunny emerges from the hallway, two hands in the air in surrender.

“I’m heading out, I swear!”

Sunny is a big teddy bear of a man, with tattoos splayed across his arms and a well-kept beard. There’s a term you learned online called ‘lumbersexual’ and that’s exactly the word to describe Sunny. He almost reminds you of Jason Momoa, the actor who played Aquaman. Those who just meet him think he looks intimidating at first but once you get past his height and size, you see just how much of a softie he is. He’s also extremely intelligent, working somewhere in the computer industry developing software.

Karli bounds over to him and gives him a big snuggly hug and tiptoes all the way up to give a quick kiss to his lips.

“Have fun babe! Love you!”

“Love you too! Also bye Y/N!”

“Bye Sunny have fun!” You smile as he treads out the door.

You both head to the kitchen and start making your drinks.

“Aren’t you extra chipper today!” You mention as you pour a splash of club soda into your glass.

“Am I?” She doesn’t look at you, wearing a mysterious grin, stirring her mixture with a straw.

After you both finish making your drinks, you head to her living room and settle onto her plush sofa.

Karli yawns, almost too dramatically, covering her left hand over her mouth. You quirk your eyebrow at her, wondering why she’s acting so weird until you spot it. There’s something large, something shiny, on her left ring finger.

“Oh my god….” Your entire mouth hangs open. “Oh my GOD!!! Is THAT…?”

“Yep!”

“Did HE -?”

“Yep!!”

“AND YOU - ?

“YEP I DID!!”

“YOU’RE ENGAGED?!?!?!”

“I KNOW!!!!”

What happens after is a shriek rivaling that of a pterodactyl taking flight after spotting prey, except the sound is just the two of you screaming and jumping up and down in Karli’s living room.

You bring her into a tight hug, so emotional that you’re about to tear up. And you’re not one to cry that easily.

“I’m so happy for you!” You pull apart and wipe a stray tear from your cheek.

“Thank you! I’m so happy too!” Her smile is also a little watery. “Like I knew he was gonna do it soon since we’ve been together so long but I’m still shocked you know?”

“I know!”

“And I’m sorry. Today was supposed to be me asking about your date last night.” She dabs at her eyes. “Bryce really likes you too. He even texted me thanking me for introducing you!!”

“Oh shit...” You take this chance to drink your Aperol spritz. “I’m gonna be completely honest with you. It’s true he’s cute but there was no spark.” You give her an apologetic grin, knowing she really wanted this to work out for you. “Like don’t get me wrong he’s super nice and stuff but I just couldn’t find anything we have in common. I can’t believe he’s still into me?!”

“Aw I’m sorry babe.” She pouts. “I really did think you would be a good match.”

“It’s ok. Anyways,” you wave her off, bringing up the more important subject at hand. “I’d much rather talk about your engagement! Like, hello?? You’re getting married, girl!!

Another squeal. You really hope her neighbors don’t complain.

“I know!! I literally don’t know what to think!” She smiles wistfully, like she’s on cloud nine, then brings her attention back to you. “Also you’re the maid of honor and you can’t back out of that.”

“I would never!” You gasp dramatically, one hand clutching your chest.

“But don’t worry!” She sets her drink down. “The wedding’s not happening till next year at least. We don’t have to start planning till way later.”

The rest of the day you spend chatting to Karli, prompting her to spill every single detail about the proposal. Even though you have no need to help her plan a wedding just yet, you can’t hold back from offering some ideas that spring to mind.

“I got it!!” You shout.

“You got what?”

“Hear me out,” you may or may not be a little tipsy at this point. “Goth wedding!” You say with jazz hands. Then you reach down to take another sip of your drink.

“Hmm…” She pretends to think about the idea, then giggles. “And that’s enough prosecco for you.” Plucking the glass out of your hand, she transfers it to her kitchen sink.

A couple more hours roll by. You both decide to watch a cheesy Netflix horror movie to sober up, paired with the Mexican takeout you ordered. By the time the credits roll, the sun has long since set, along with your alcohol buzz. You check the time on your phone, deciding it’s best to head home since poor Sunny has been respectfully out and about all day, giving you your girl time.

You give Karli one last big hug, murmuring into her hair how happy you are for her situation. She walks you to the apartment elevator, where you proceed to blow her a swift kiss right before the doors close in your face.

Reality sets in the moment you’re alone. Your head swims with thoughts as you drive back. Most of them are happy about your best friend’s engagement but you can’t discount the little ugly bubble of jealousy that wells down deep in your gut, reminding you of your own current situation. It’s not until you reach home that you realize you didn’t even play music in the car.

Ayah has long since gone on her business trip by the time you arrive at your apartment. The whole place looks dark and unwelcome, only highlighting the emptiness you feel inside. You trudge to your room and slump onto your bed. You try to scroll through social media as a way to distract yourself but you’re met, instead, by all the pictures and posts of happy people, showing off their achievements or bragging about their seemingly perfect lives.

You immediately lock your phone and throw it onto the blanket, the stress and anxiety from the last few months building to a boiling point in your mind. Your biggest concern is you still haven’t figured out your lease situation, and you only have two more months to move out or find someone new. Ayah has tried her best to help you but she’s bombarded by business trips so no luck so far. You let out a small groan and bury your head in the pillow, deciding to sleep it off and worry about your problems tomorrow, even though it’s not even that late.

Right as you’re about to drift off into dreamland, your phone rings. You fumble around the covers until it’s in your hands and check that you have a facetime call from your two favorite boys.

Immediately your body jerks awake and you sit up, swiping the answer button.

“Hey guys!”

“Hi Y/N!!” Scarlet’s heart-shaped smile is taking up most of the screen but you can see a sliver of white and grey hair behind him.

Hazel elbows him out of the way. “Sorry were you sleeping?” He tilts his head, ears twitching. “Wait, it’s only 10 pm where you’re at. You never sleep this early.”

“No I wasn’t... I mean, yeah I was trying to sleep but…”

You sigh. It’s their faces. Just seeing them through a screen, their wide, innocent eyes blinking up at you, makes you want to spill everything.

You nibble on your bottom lip for a moment. “I was just kinda having an existential crisis so I decided to sleep it off. No biggie.”

Scarlet’s eyebrows furrow in concern. After only two months, he can already tell when something is off with your tone of voice.

“Y/N what’s wrong?” He looks up for a bit, pausing to think. “Was it the date last night?”

“The date?” Oh yeah the date. Yet another thing that didn’t go well. You totally forgot about that can of worms. “Not really… or actually kinda?”

You try to reorganize your jumbled mess of a brain and put your thoughts into words.

“So you know how I said I was going to Karli’s today?”

“Mhm,” they nod at you to continue.

“Well turns out she got engaged last night.”

“That’s awesome! I’m so happy for her!” Scarlet bounces a little, then quickly returns to a more serious tone. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”

“Yeah I’m happy for her too.” And you genuinely are.

You pause for another moment, teetering on the edge of playing your emotions off like it’s no big deal or exposing all of your concerns yet again. Your need for an outlet to vent to wins in the end. For the first time you find yourself unable to confide in Karli because you want her to be happy and focus on the engagement rather than to be preoccupied with you. Before you know it, the words flow from your mouth like running water.

“It’s just that her announcement really brought me back to earth, and I started thinking a little too much about my own life.” You purse your lips. “I don’t know… I feel pretty selfish right now because she’s doing so well and I just can’t help comparing my life to hers. I’m so proud of her but it’s like everything in her life is coming together and I just want that for me also.” You throw your hands up in frustration, almost knocking the phone off from where it leans on your pillow. “I mean we’re the same age for god's sake! Why can’t I get my shit together??”

“Well you should be proud of yourself though,” Hazel cuts in. “Cause we are.” He gestures to Scarlet and himself.

“Yeah!” Scarlet chimes. “I mean you’ve got a full time job and a place to stay. I know you don’t feel like it’s the most ideal situation right now but please don’t discredit yourself.”

“Thanks guys.” You calm down a bit, but then you remember the whole issue with your apartment. Scratching the back of your neck, a habit you’ve picked up whenever you’re nervous, you say in a much smaller voice, “although my ‘place to stay’ might not last much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Both boys’ eyebrows are raised in confusion.

You realize you never mentioned your living situation to them, the topic always pushed to the back of your mind whenever they initiated conversation.

“Yeah.” A dry chuckle leaves your lips. “My lease ends soon and Ayah wants to move to a place of her own. And I have two months to figure out where to live or find another roommate.” You let out a frustrated huff. “She’s been so helpful but still no luck I guess.” You shrug in defeat.

You feel like a balloon that’s lost all its air, brain exhausted from running through all the problems in your life.

“Actually that’s pretty convenient for- ” Scarlet starts, but is elbowed again in the ribs by Hazel. “Ow!”

“Not yet!” The cat hisses quietly to him.

“Huh?” Now you’re confused. What in the world are they talking about?

Hazel turns back to you. “I’m really sorry about everything Y/N. If there’s anything we can do to help please let us know.”

“Thanks buddy.” You offer him a small smile, choosing to ignore what just happened since they clearly don’t want to reveal anything just yet.

Hazel then shifts to a more nervous stance, ears slightly flattening and both hands grabbing his floofy grey tail for comfort. It’s the cutest goddamn thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

“So Y/N, um, there’s a reason we called you tonight.”

You’re glad for a change in subject, a much needed distraction away from your downward spiraling thoughts.

“Oh right! Yeah. What’s up guys?”

Scarlet steps in front of him again, blocking most of the screen.

“We have a surprise for you!” He’s so close to the camera that you can only see half of his unblemished face but from the way his eyes crinkle, you can tell he’s giddy with anticipation.

“A surprise- ?”

“Yeah!!”

Hazel nudges himself into view again. “Quit hogging the whole screen fox! I swear to god next time we’re using the tv. I can’t see anything! Anyways,” he turns to you and smooths his shirt, expression back to stoic, “are you free next weekend?”

“I should be. Why?” You’re still a little lost on what the surprise is.

“Cause we’re coming back to town!” Scarlet blurts out.

“You are?!” Suddenly all your negativity melts away, replaced by excitement. Hard to believe just five simple words can shift your mood a complete 180°.

“But wait, there’s more!” You snort at how much Scarlet sounded like an infomercial just now.

“We’d like to invite you to dinner next Saturday night. If that’s ok with you?” Hazel isn’t as physically expressive as Scarlet but the hopeful shine in his eyes gives himself away.

You melt at his expression, heart rate speeding up. “Of course that’s ok! I’d love to!”

“Great!” He flashes one of his rare gummy smiles. “Saturday night. 7 pm. We’ll text you the details.”

“Yep!” Scarlet pipes in. “There’s something important we gotta ask- !” He lets out a small gasp, tail bristling, and clamps a hand over his mouth as if he just said something he shouldn’t have.

“What’s important?” You’ve gotta admit, your curiosity is at its peak right now, and it doesn’t help that they’re acting a little weird today.

Hazel rubs his temples in exasperation, groaning at Scarlet. “What part of ‘not yet’ did you not understand?” He then addresses you. “Sorry Y/N I promise we’ll tell you when we see you in person.”

“Ok.” Cool. That’s fine. You’re a little nervous about what they have to say and it’ll be torture to wait but you’re a big girl and you can handle not knowing for a week. “I can’t wait to see you guys!!” you added.

“Me too!” Scarlet’s personality is so bubbly and contagious that you can’t help but smile back at him.

“Same.” Hazel lets out a small yawn. “Well we’re in a different time zone than you and it’s really late here so I gotta hit the hay.”

“Mk, go get your beauty sleep.” You give them a little wave. “And thanks for everything. I mean it.”

“No problem Y/N.” Scarlet also gives off a yawn, stretching his tired limbs. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

After ending the facetime call, you lie on your back, staring at the ceiling. Your mind is active once again, but this time it’s not clouded with self-deprecating thoughts. Instead, you spend the remainder of the evening theorizing about the ‘important’ things the boys have to tell you. Maybe you’ll finally find out their real names. Or maybe they’ll reveal something else about themselves, like why they’re constantly travelling, or what they actually do for a living. Either way you can’t wait for next Saturday to come around.

Previous | Next

#bts fic #bts hybrid au #hoseok fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfction #hybrid hoseok #hybrid yoongi #bts hybrid fic

84 notes · View notes

atc74 · 4 years ago

Text

Soul to Souls - Nineteen

Warnings: Pregnancy, labor, lots of language, fluff

Summary: Since she was four years old, Annaleigh has seen the same boy in her dreams. For twenty-five years, she grows to love the boy that has now turned into a man. Dean Winchester just lost the only family he has ever known. The guilt drives him to work harder than ever before. He works to forget the pain, until he meets Annaleigh and she turns his world upside down. What she learns changes both of their lives forever, but what will he do when he discovers the truth? Will he accept it or run back to the only life he has ever known?

Pairing: Dean x OC Annaleigh

Word Count: 2259

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, @katehuntington, thank you both for being my guides! Dividers and cover art by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89.

A/N: This was my very first series I ever wrote four years ago in September 2016 and I am so happy and proud to bring this back home. Thank you to everyone that is enjoying the story so far. You’re probably going to get a couple chapters a week, trying to wrap this up before the new series starts.

Only one chapter left! 😢

Like Dean’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

Soul to Souls Master List

Previously...

Only a few days from her due date, Annaleigh sat quietly in the nursery one night, sleep eluding her as she was not able to get comfortable much anymore. Her eyes were closed, and she absentmindedly rubbed her swollen belly, thinking about how happy she was with their life and how much things had changed over the last five and a half years, how much they had lost and how much they had gained. She didn’t even open her eyes when she heard the fluttering of wings in the room.

“Hi Cas,” she said quietly.

“Hey, girl.” The gruff voice had her bolting upright, her eyes flying open.

“Bobby?” her words were barely a whisper, as she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.

Now...

“Yeah, Kid, it’s me. The powers that be finally decided I could show myself to you. It’s been hard being here with the kids most nights and not being able to talk to you. I know Dean is treatin’ ya right though; I can feel it in him. That boy loves you.”

“Dean!” Annaleigh wanted her husband to be here with her, with Bobby. Anna heard him call out to her, and she laughed as he turned the corner too fast in his socked feet, slipping as he entered the nursery.

“Red! Are you okay? What’s wrong?” She heard the fear in his voice as he reached her side.

Panic had rushed through him when he heard Annaleigh yell for him and she wasn’t in their bed. They only had days to go until the newest Winchester arrived and Dean was nervous she would go into labor any minute.

Standing before him was Bobby, stopping Dean dead in his tracks.

“Bobby?” He couldn’t really believe it was him.

“Yeah, it’s me, Son.” Dean embraced Bobby with all his might; he was so happy to see him.

“God, I missed you, old man,” Dean whispered over Bobby’s shoulder.

Bobby looked around the nursery casually. “I love what you’ve done with the place. I think she is going to love it.”

“Thanks, Bobby. Sam and I have been working on - wait, what?” Dean stuttered. “Did you say ‘she’?”

“Oops, I don’t think I was supposed to tell. One of the perks of being an angel, I guess,” Bobby replied sheepishly.

“It’s a girl?” Anna asked, getting up from the rocker and slowly walking over to Bobby. “Are you sure?”

Bobby reached out and placed his hands over Anna’s stomach, a pale blue glow emanating from his palms. “Yeah, Annaleigh, I’m sure, and she is as beautiful as her Mama.” A single tear rolled down his face and disappeared into his unruly beard.

Dean watched as Bobby embraced his wife before he joined, wrapping his arms around both of them, really feeling like their family was complete. Even if Bobby couldn’t be here physically with them, they knew he was always here.

Despite her due date coming and going, Dr. Sullivan had assured Anna and Dean that their baby and Annaleigh were perfectly healthy and, as long as that didn’t change, she didn’t want to risk inducing labor and causing undue stress on both mother and baby. Cas dropped by every few days and confirmed the doctor’s decision. Number three was just not ready to make her debut just yet - the Winchesters liked to make a dramatic entrance. Robby and Millie certainly had, arriving almost a month early.

Dean’s birthday was coming, and the birthday tradition for her husband meant pie, not cake. With the kids at preschool and Dean at his brother’s, Anna took advantage of the quiet and spent the morning making a pecan and an apple pie for him, since those were his favorite. She had invited Sam, and of course Jody over for his birthday dinner the next night, along with Bobby and Cas, if they could manage.

Exhaustion calling her as she yawned widely, Anna laid down on the couch for a little snooze, texting Dean first.

Before she knew it, Dean was waking her gently from her cocoon on the couch. The kids were already washed and seated at the table, waiting patiently for supper. Dean helped her to her feet, and she shuffled off to the bathroom before her bladder exploded.

Dean was serving dinner when she returned to the dining room, and she gladly accepted his offer to make her plate and pour the milk. He has been taking such good care of her, a girl could get used to it. Robby and Millie led a short Grace before they ate.

“Thank you Lord for this food and for Mama and Daddy,” Robby started.

“Thank you for the snow and for Grampa. But, God, if you are listening, could you please bring my baby sister?” Millie ended the Grace with Amen, and Dean and Anna both chuckled a little.

“Millie, I am excited for her to get here too, but sometimes babies don’t come when they are supposed to. You and your brother didn’t,” Anna offered.

“I know, Mama, but I’m just really excited to meet her and give her a real name besides ‘baby sister’,” Millie confessed to her parents.

Once dinner was over, Dean cleared the dishes and put away the leftovers. It was nearing bathtime for both kids, and Anna slowly made her way towards the stairs when she felt the warmth trickle down her legs.

“Dean!” she called from the base of the stairs, holding onto the banister for support.

“Yeah, Red?” Dean answered as he rounded the corner from the kitchen. He saw Anna clutching the banister with a puddle at her feet.

“Dean, my water just broke,” Anna grimaced, trying to stay upright as the first contraction hit her.

“I know, Red. I can see it.” He helped her sit down on the stairs. “Stay right here. I’ll be right back with a change of clothes for you. I’m gonna call Jody to come stay with the twins.” He raced up the stairs, yelling for the kids and reaching for his phone.

“Jody, it’s Dean. Yeah, it’s time. Can you come stay with Robby and Millie?...Yeah, I’ll have Sam stay until you can get here...I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sticking around and helping...Thank you so much.” Dean placed the next call to Sam.

“Sammy, it’s time. Jody’s coming, but we need you right now,” Dean panted as he rushed from room to room. “Yes, Sam...I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you stuck around...now can we worry about your love life when my wife isn’t in labor?...’Kay, thanks, Sammy.”

Robby and Millie ran into their bedroom, holding hands. “Daddy?” they said in unison, watching him scramble around the room looking for clothes for his wife.

“Uncle Sam is going to come stay with you until Jody gets here. I’m going to take Mommy to the hospital. I think your baby sister is finally going to come tonight,” Dean said excitedly to the children.

“YAY! Baby Sister! Baby Sister!” They screamed in unison, jumping up and down.

Dean ran back down the stairs to find his wife still sitting there, breathing and counting. Easing her to her feet and into the small bathroom off the kitchen, Dean gingerly held her while helping her slip off her soaking wet pants and underwear, then pulling on clean bottoms. “How far apart, Red?”

“Best guess is four to five minutes, I don’t really know,” Annaleigh breathed out.

Sam was waiting for them when they emerged, a child in each arm. “Don’t worry, guys, I got this. Go have my niece! Call me with updates.”

Dean grabbed the two bags that had been packed by the front door for a month, running them out to the car, then went back for Anna, helping her slowly down the porch steps and into the car. Once they were both secured, he backed out of the driveway and sped off towards the hospital.

Dean was grateful for the cakewalk this pregnancy had been, for Anna’s sake. Even almost two weeks overdue, it had been much easier on her than the first. Dean was also ecstatic to have another baby with this extraordinary woman. About fifteen minutes later, he pulled up in front of the hospital’s emergency entrance. He jumped out quickly, grabbing a wheelchair and helped Annaleigh into it, pushing her through the double doors.

After they were checked in, a nurse came to get her and gave Dean her room number. She let him know they were going to get her settled. He knew she was in capable hands, but he reluctantly left her side to park the car. Immediately upon returning to the maternity ward, he could hear his wife screaming his name and swearing. He wasn’t sure he deserved it; it wasn’t entirely his fault, but he would gladly take whatever she dished out. Dean entered the room, and a nurse threw him a set of scrubs. He quickly changed into the scrubs and rushed to his wife’s side. She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him down to her, her face flushed, sweat already beading on her porcelain skin.

“You did this to me! You fucker! I hate you!” Anna bellowed at him and he let her, taking it like a good husband should when their wife is pushing the next generation into the world.

“Ok, Annaleigh, all done with that one. Take some deep breaths and the doctor will be right in to check on you,” the nurse spoke calmly and Anna stopped yelling.

Reaching up, she cupped Dean’s stubbled cheek, and he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes, relishing in the calm her touch provided, even when she was the one doing all the work. “I love you, Dean. I am so happy we are having another baby. Thank you for giving me a family.”

“I love you too, Red. We wouldn’t have this family if it wasn’t for you. You are strong and brave. You are my rock. You are the best mama ever and we are lucky to have you.” He placed small kisses over her head and forehead, trailing down to her mouth. She kissed him with a passion and energy he didn’t think she could muster during labor, but he had learned long ago never to underestimate her, ever.

They were interrupted by a throat being cleared as the doctor entered the room. “Hi Annaleigh, how are you doing?” Doctor Sullivan inquired, coming around the foot of the bed. “Let’s take a look at your progress. The nurse says your contractions are pretty strong, so let’s see how far along you are.” The doctor lifted up the sheet and did a quick exam before she removed her gloves and turned to them.

“Okay, mom, you are dilated to six centimeters and are moving along well. This baby should be making an appearance in just a few hours. I’ll have one of the nurses come check on you in a bit.” With that, she was gone.

“Dean, did you hear that? There is a good chance she’ll be born on your birthday.” Anna looked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes, glistening with tears.

“Red, I couldn’t ask for a better birthday present,” Dean leaned down and kissed her again.

The next couple of hours went by quickly, nurses checking in every few minutes during contractions until, finally, it was time. The doctor came into the room and told Anna to start pushing, which she did like a champ. Their daughter arrived kicking and screaming in less than ten minutes, weighing seven pounds, fourteen ounces and just over twenty inches long.

Doctor Sullivan looked at the clock, officially announcing the time of birth as 1:07am, January the 24th. They had a birthday baby, and Dean couldn’t hide his smile or tears. He turned to his wife, kissing her full on the mouth. “Red, I am so proud of you. Thank you so much for this gift.”

A nurse handed Dean a pink bundle, and he looked down at her with so much love in his heart, kissing her little head before passing her to his wife. “She is so beautiful, Red.”

“We never talked about it, so what are we going to name her, Dean?” Anna and Dean exchanged options quietly, sneaking glances down at their new daughter, finally landing on the one they both loved.

No one else would have noticed over the hustle and bustle in the room, but if you knew what you were listening for, you could hear it. They both glanced up to see Bobby standing silently in the corner, waiting for everyone to clear out so he could be alone with his family and meet his new granddaughter. Once the delivery staff left the family alone, he made his way over the edge of the bed.

“Hey pretty girl,” he cooed over the new baby, just like he had with the twins.

“Bobby, meet your granddaughter, Samantha Karen Winchester, but you can call her Sammie,” Anna declared, watching the old man cry for only the fourth time in her life.

“She’s gonna be tickled pink when I tell her,” Bobby sniffed as he cradled the newborn in his arms. His wet eyes flicked up to meet Dean’s. “Thank you.”

“No thanks necessary, Bobby. We couldn’t think of any better way to honor her memory than to name this little one after her,” Dean expressed. “She would have been a wonderful grandma.”

“Yeah, she woulda,” the old man sniffed, letting his emotions take over.

Bobby stayed at the hospital for a little longer, until Anna was too tired to keep her eyes open. She tried to deny it, but he knew better. He left the hospital to check in on the rest of his family. The twins were sleeping soundly, holding hands as usual. Bobby slowly made his way down the stairs, knowing it would be faster to fly, but not wanting the flutter of his wings to wake Sam. He didn’t expect to find him curled up on the sofa with Jody in a cocoon of blankets to ward against the chilly winter night. He found himself smiling, proud of the boys he had raised and the men they had become.

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

Soul to Souls tags: @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @iwantthedean @jensengirl83 @deanwanddamons @smol-and-grumpy @kbl1313 @waywardbeanie @whatareyousearchingfordean @princessmisery666 @shy-violet-soul @lastcallatrockysbar @winchesterxfamilybusiness @fangirlxwritesx67 @squirrelnotsam @michellethetvaddict @magssteenkamp @wonder-cole

#dean x annaleigh #dean x ofc #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester smut

19 notes · View notes

gaspardcaderousse · 4 years ago

Text

Masterlist of Amedot Moments & Tidbits

This is a post I originally made and maintained starting around the time Beta came out, but accidentally deleted it recently (rip the hundreds of notes it had accumulated). Luckily, I was able to find an earlier version via Google Cache, so behold: the edited masterlist, ten whole pages long in Google Docs. As of 1/30/2021, this contains every moment from the show and comics and won’t be updated unless more media is released in the future.

If you can think of anything I might’ve missed, please let me know! Reblogs are obviously welcome. I’ve also got a video of all amedot moments in the show if that interests you. Amedot rights!

IRL

Amethyst and peridot gemstones are commonly paired together in jewelry, similar to how ruby and sapphire (a canon couple) are.

There has been a fair bit of art of them drawn by the crew. There are multiple pieces of them interacting by Danny Cragg, Maya Peterson has drawn art of them (she has an amedot tag of her own art on her tumblr, plus some other romantically suggestive art of them together), Nicole Rodriguez has drawn shippy art of them (she doesn’t have an amedot tag, but some can be found in her peridot tag), comic writer Grace Kraft has drawn them (she has a tag), and Rebecca Sugar has drawn them together, too.

Catch and Release

When Peridot is running up the stairs, Amethyst pulls out her whip and says “Hey” to Peridot in a rather provocative tone.

Too Far

Peridot is obviously desperate for Amethyst to pay attention to her and see her as cool. She made jokes about the other gems to impress her (even if she was unknowingly being rude) and said to Steven that she thought she was being “cool” by doing so, and tries to make Amethyst laugh with her names for things (ex. “rythmatic pulverizer”). This behavior is typical of someone who has a crush, and was not just due to Amethyst’s status as a quartz; Peridot argues with and states that she dislikes Jasper, another quartz (and not a defective one, at that).

Peridot was visibly upset when Amethyst didn’t find her funny and said she felt “smaller” when Amethyst gave her the cold shoulder.

Peridot goes out of her way to save Amethyst from the drill head, even managing to break her leash in effort to do so.

After saving Amethyst, Peridot is shown to have fallen on her; that and her reaction seem to reference the anime trope where the character will fall on their love interest and immediately become flustered.

Peridot’s apology at the end of the episode! This is probably the most heartfelt apology she’s given (compared to her actions at the end of Back to the Barn and throughout Barn Mates), and she specifically calls Amethyst “the best gem here”. She also admits that she was in the wrong with her statements and this is the first time she does so – compare with Back to the Barn, where she acts like Pearl needed to prove herself to her before Peridot could apologize. In that way, this was a huge turn for her character.

That little exchange of smiles at the end. It’s adorable.

Steven’s Birthday

Amethyst invites Peridot to join them and even blows up a cute lil Peridot-shaped balloon.

It Could’ve Been Great

Peridot tries to impress Amethyst with her knowledge about gems (specifically how they immediately adjust to the gravity of any planetoid), and is disappointed/surprised when Amethyst doesn’t find it interesting.

Peridot tries to compliment Amethyst by saying that the Beta Kindergarten was nowhere near as impressive as the Kindergarten Amethyst originated from.

Message Received

Aside from Steven, Amethyst was the most visibly upset at Peridot’s betrayal, likely due to how close they were.

Log Date 7 15 2

When trying on the paint cans Steven gives to her, Peridot is shown to want to impress Amethyst with her new height. She also wants to show it off to Pearl, but she’s specifically trying to help Amethyst, whereas it’s just her height she wants to show Pearl; she wants Pearl to see how tall she is, and wants Amethyst to see how capable she is and actually wants to do something to actively help her.

If we assume Peridot’s shipping chart represents the gems, and that the green is Peridot and the purple is Amethyst, it is clearly shown that they are paired together.

Peridot’s descriptions seem to imply that Percy and Pierre represent Peridot and Amethyst respectively, and she obviously thinks those two belong together. At the very least, the pairs have similarities.

Amethyst says that she uses shapeshifting to be cool and directly shapeshifts into Peridot, showing that she obviously thinks Peridot is cool.

Amethyst is shown to know Peridot well enough to perfectly mimic her speech patterns, and says that she has been practicing doing so. She also says it’s “hard to beat the original”, to which Peridot responds to by blushing and giggling.

Peridot states that she finds Amethyst’s company entertaining.

Barn Mates

Peridot seems to be picking up some phrasing from spending time with Amethyst, directly referenced in the “Holy smokes!” scene.

Hit the Diamond

As soon as Peridot says that she’s scared, Amethyst immediately decides to ambush the Rubies in her defense.

Too Short to Ride

Peridot shows off her tablet-velcro innovation to Amethyst, attempting to impress her again.

Amethyst tries to win Peridot’s desired prize for her.

Amethyst gives a whole little speech to Peridot about how they like her for who she is, which shows that Amethyst genuinely likes Peridot for who she is and wants her to enjoy herself.

Amethyst tries to throw away Peridot’s tablet. While not necessarily the right thing to do, she was still trying to help Peridot in doing so. This also unintentionally means that Amethyst is the reason Peridot discovered her powers.

Amethyst also casually touches Peridot a lot throughout this episode (ex. putting her arm around her shoulders). Peridot doesn’t seem to mind this, in stark contrast to how she reacts when Mr. Smiley touched her.

Beta

Peridot is obviously very excited to see Amethyst; she runs down to see her, arms open wide, shouting her name happily.

Peridot is excited to show her art off to Amethyst (and specifically Amethyst).

When Steven tells Peridot why Amethyst is upset, Peridot doesn’t hold her attitude against her and immediately tries to make her feel better by telling her that she’s better than Jasper and insulting Jasper’s Kindergarten. I mean, it’s not the best way of comforting someone, but Peridot hasn’t been shown to be particularly good at comforting people.

This episode makes Amethyst the first person for Peridot to give affectionate nicknames (Ams, Big A).

Peridot is also obviously more physical with Amethyst (for example, putting her arm around Amethyst’s shoulder) similar to how Amethyst was with her in Too Short to Ride, even though Peridot seems to be have an aversion with physical contact except with those she is very close with.

Earthlings

Peridot seemed particularly worried when Amethyst left to fight Jasper, even more so than Steven did.

They both seemed to share a mutual desire to protect one another. Even so, they were also trying to protect Steven, so this doesn’t necessarily solely indicate romantic interest.

Back to the Moon

When Amethyst walked away from Peridot during Doc’s rant, Peridot reached out to her for a few moments.

The Kindergarten Kid

Given Peridot’s previous attempts to impress Amethyst, her behavior at the beginning of the episode seems to be in attempt to show off to her. She may also be trying to show off to the other three Crystal Gems as well, but she specifically says some things in response to Amethyst and has tried to impress her more in the past than the others, so this is possibly directed more at her.

Amethyst is the most clearly insulted by Peridot’s comments at the beginning of the episode, showing that she really does care about her opinion. However, she forgives her after Peridot beats the corrupted gem and admits her misjudgments.

Amethyst is the first to compliment Peridot’s ability to bubble.

Last One Out of Beach City

When they arrive at the party, Amethyst tells Pearl to talk to a nerd. While this isn’t necessarily just referring to Amethyst and Peridot’s own relationship, it could be interpreted that way, as Amethyst calls Peridot a nerd rather frequently.

Adventures in Light Distortion

Amethyst seems to be actively listening to and taking interest in Peridot’s comments about the space ship, shown further when she refers to Peridot saying the gravity engine “bends reality”. While not necessarily romantic, it does show how their relationship has developed since It Could’ve Been Great, when she mostly ignores Peridot’s similar comments.

The New Crystal Gems

When Lapis says she doesn’t know who Amethyst is, Peridot seems visibly annoyed.

Peridot indirectly states that she thinks Amethyst has a good sense of humor (an opinion which she has voiced multiple times before).

Back to the Kindergarten

Amethyst’s entire motivation in this episode is to cheer Peridot up; she obviously cares a lot about her wellbeing and emotional health. It is obviously very effective, as Peridot begins to feel better throughout the episode in direct response to Amethyst’s actions, which goes to show just how well Amethyst knows her, and how much Peridot cares about Amethyst’s opinion.

The first time Peridot smiles since the beginning of her depression is in direct response to Amethyst complimenting her. She’s also very visibly blushing.

The two are essentially flirting throughout the entire episode. Amethyst poses while leaning against a wall while complimenting Peridot resulting in the above reaction, they joke with each other while gardening, and at one point Peridot can be heard speaking passionately to Amethyst about their project while Amethyst smiles at her with half-closed eyes. Amethyst replies, “Oh yeah?” in a tone that sounds very obviously flirtatious.

Again, Amethyst is shown to casually touch Peridot a lot; she puts her hand on her shoulder and even picks her up and carries her at one point. Again, Peridot is perfectly okay with it.

The gardening project happened because of Amethyst, and ultimately is what taught Peridot that even when some things are beyond saving, there is always hope to be found somewhere, and sometimes you have to move on. This is another major character development for her - again, one caused directly by Amethyst.

Letters to Lars

Amethyst and Peridot are seen doing improv together and seem to consistently agree with and encourage each other. While this isn’t necessarily romantic, it does show that they have been spending a good deal of time together casually offscreen.

Can’t Go Back

While Lapis is spying on the Crystal Gems on Earth, Peridot can be seen looking upset. Amethyst approaches Garnet and Pearl in what seems to be a worried way, and the three of them talk to Peridot, who eventually seems to brighten up. It seems like Amethyst noticed that Peridot was upset and came to the others with her concerns, leading to them cheering Peridot up, making her the direct cause in Peridot’s change in attitude and showing, again, that she cares for her emotional state.

As the Crystal Gems walk away, the projection of Peridot is the first to walk through Lapis, followed by Amethyst. This could be symbolism; Peridot is moving on from Lapis and her sadness over her leaving, with help from and while forging a stronger relationship with Amethyst.

Made of Honor

Amethyst and Peridot are seen standing together and casually interacting on multiple occasions throughout the episode - more than either with anyone else.

At one point, Peridot leans back on a chair while talking to Amethyst before falling over. The way it’s posed looks like a pretty textbook example of flirting (… and then making a fool out of oneself in attempt to flirt).

At the end of the episode, Amethyst puts her arm around Peridot’s shoulder. This is, yet again, an example of how physical they are with each other.

Reunited

Like in Made of Honor, Amethyst and Peridot are seen standing together and casually interacting multiple times onscreen.

Peridot is very physical with Amethyst in this episode, grabbing her arm and hiding behind her and pushing her in attempt to help push Steven’s shield. This shows again how physical they are with each other, and again shows that Peridot is very comfortable being physical with Amethyst (noticeably more so than with any other character at this point) despite her aversion to contact.

They can be seen bragging to each other about how they attacked Blue Diamond. Bismuth is also there, but they noticeably seem to be directing their boasts at each other.

Change Your Mind

Peridot and Amethyst seem to be taking inspiration from each other on their new regenerations. Amethyst has a triangle shape around her gem now, and Peridot has her stars on her knees like Amethyst’s old designs.

After the battle with White Diamond, Peridot immediately runs over to Amethyst and practically tackle hugs her. This is far more physical than she’s been with anyone else before in the series, and they both seem genuinely overjoyed to be with each other. Amethyst also holds her hand up right beforehand, either to wave or high five her.

Steven Universe: The Movie

When Amethyst recovers from Spinel’s attack, Peridot doesn’t initially realize that she’s back to normal and reacts very strongly upon seeing her, exclaiming that she can’t bear to see Amethyst “vacant and bereft of personality”. Interestingly, Peridot doesn’t seem affected at all to see Ruby, Sapphire, Garnet, or Pearl in such a state, but she’s so upset by the sight of Amethyst reduced to a shell of herself that she physically refuses to look at her.

In addition, Peridot immediately changes attitude and reacts excitedly when Amethyst tells her that she’s back to normal, despite the fact that the world is in dire threat of destruction.

When the gems are seen working on repairing the city towards the end of the movie, Peridot can be seen riding inside of Amethyst (who is shape shifted into a crane) to put up the donut on the Big Donut. They share a wink and a smile while doing this. It would have been just as easy for Amethyst to put it up on her own; Peridot isn’t really doing much to help, she’s just chilling there to hang out with Amethyst.

Bluebird

Throughout the episode, Amethyst and Peridot are the only two characters to point out that Steven likes tomato soup. Of course, this isn’t really evidence and by no means indicates anything romantic, but it does highlight how similar their thought patterns have become in certain ways. It’s reminiscent of the “Holy smokes!” scene back in Barn Mates.

Everything’s Fine

Peridot mentions to Steven that Amethyst told her that he was prohibited from messing with plants. Since Steven Universe: Future focuses so heavily on Steven, the other gems don’t interact all that much, but this makes it clear that Amethyst and Peridot, at least, are hanging out offscreen.

2017-Present Comic Series

Please note that all the comics are written by different people, and are considered “level 2 canon”; rather, not inherently canon but you’re free to consider them canon as long as they don’t contradict the show. Any italicized points are from entirely non-canon comics that directly contradict the show in some way. Even the non-italicized ones are not necessarily canon, however.

All throughout Issue 4 (in which Amethyst, Peridot, and Steven visit a renaissance fair together), Amethyst and Peridot are continuously very physical with each other, especially Amethyst towards Peridot.

When Steven calls Peridot cute, Amethyst can be seen blushing and holding her hands up to her face in a way that shows her clearly gushing over how “cute” Peridot is. While this is pretty typical behavior for Steven regarding cute things, it really isn’t for Amethyst; she just thinks Peridot is that adorable.

Amethyst is very excited when Peridot wins a joust, notably more so than Steven.

In Issue 9 (in which Vidalia gives Peridot and Lapis art lessons), Amethyst models for them. Peridot is notably very enthusiastic while illustrating her.

Amethyst seems concerned for Peridot specifically when she and Lapis start arguing.

In Issue 11 (in which Steven, Lapis, and Peridot take part in a cooking competition), Peridot runs into Amethyst at the competition and is especially happy to see her.

In Issue 17 (aka Peridot Becomes A Gamer), Amethyst is the first of the Crystal Gems to try to convince Peridot to get out and do stuff.

She also seems to be cheering for Peridot during her match against Pearl.

Although Peridot had been entirely immersed in the video game when the others first approached her and then smug during her match against Pearl, she actually indulges in some genuinely lighthearted banter with Amethyst before their match. She actually seems pretty happy, despite the context of the comic. In turn, she also reacts downright fondly when Amethyst loses.

Amethyst is also the first to comfort Peridot when she admits that she’s been using video games to cope with Lapis leaving, and in turn opens up to her a bit in attempt to empathize.

In Issue 33 (in which Peridot introduces Amethyst and Pearl to Camp Pining Hearts), Amethyst is the first to approach her and asks to watch the show with her.

Amethyst and Pearl make Peridot blush when they agree to continue watching CPH with her.

It’s Amethyst’s comment about Percy and Paulette’s lack of chemistry that gets Peridot excited; she blushes and gets the star effect in her eyes.

Harmony

Peridot and Amethyst are seen paired together throughout the course of the comics, walking close to each other, sitting together inside the Harmony Core, etc.

There’s a panel where Peridot’s Twitter is visible, and Amethyst is, interestingly, the only other gem visible in her image gallery.

Camp Pining Play

At one point during rehearsal, Amethyst comes up behind Peridot and announces herself while sparkling.

Peridot is clearly impressed and enthusiastic about Amethyst’s acting abilities.

Crystal Clean

Similarly to in Harmony, Peridot and Amethyst are often paired together.

Amethyst is also physical with Peridot like in the show, grabbing Peridot’s arm once she gets onto the warp pad at one point, which Peridot doesn’t seem to mind.

Directly after this, when they warp back into the temple, Amethyst seems to be standing in front of Peridot in a protective position.

Misc.

Peridot and Amethyst’s relationship has been consistently shown to advance the plot and cause them to develop as people – it is undebatable that they are important to each other’s characters and the plot as a whole.

Amethyst has more nicknames for Peridot over the course of a few episodes than she has for any other character, including characters like Steven and Pearl who she has known for the entire series.

Overall, there are actually quite a few parallels to rupphire (one saving the other soon after meeting (Too Far and The Answer, with one even being followed directly by the other, drawing further attention to this), both couples being short with somewhat opposing color schemes, one being higher ranked and the other lower ranked on the gem caste system, one acting on emotions and the other one logic, etc.) The parallel is strengthened in Steven Universe: The Movie, when Sapphire saves Ruby from a berserk pizza cutter; this scene is even more similar to the drill scene from Too Far.

As with rupphire, amedot also parallels conniverse in the sense that one saved the other when they had very little knowledge of each other, both are short in stature with somewhat opposing dispositions, etc.

Relating to the former two points, Rebecca Sugar has called the act of saving another in such a way as was done in The Answer as “ridiculously romantic”. Given all the parallels with two of the show’s largest ships and then this…

#steven universe #su #peridot su #amethyst su #amedot #perithyst #screms

27 notes · View notes