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descendant-of-truth · 1 month ago

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I think the reputation Kingdom Hearts has is a prime example of something I've been thinking about recently, which is: if you go into a piece of media without taking it seriously from the get-go, any of its attempts to be serious will come across as funny.

Let's be real, KH is viewed by the general public as a bit silly, right? Like, you're telling me there's an RPG series where you play as an anime boy but your party members are Goofy and Donald Freakin' Duck? And it's filled with complicated plotlines about clones and hearts and time travel?

The crux of what makes people not take the game seriously is the fact that it's a Disney game that wants to be taken seriously. Those two things combined instinctively make people want to laugh at it; after all, Disney is just kids' stuff, it's not meant to be taken that seriously. Even if you're a fan of Disney, it's so inherently different from something like Final Fantasy that the tonal clash alone creates a certain expectation.

That expectation being: this is going to be stupid, and funny because it's stupid. The same level of joke as making cute characters swear or use guns, I think.

Kingdom Hearts is, of course, a lot more sincere than that. But if you're not willing to meet it halfway, then its sincerity becomes the joke.

Of course, even KH fans like to laugh at how the dialogue reads when it's taken out of context, which takes me to something I've actually wanted to talk about for a bit:

Data Sora: Mickey! It's Riku. They put bugs in him!

Make no mistake, I'm not saying people are wrong to joke about stuff like this. But the whiplash I felt at seeing this moment become a meme was kind of insane, because it genuinely never struck me as a funny thing to hear Sora say.

Using the term "bug" to refer to a computer bug felt completely natural, and it's a much more tangible term than "glitch" which brings to mind more like, environmental or physics-based glitches. Similar deal with the word "virus," even if that would've sounded cooler.

But either way, by this point in the story, they've been talking about bugs with complete seriousness for over an hour. They've been a corrupting force that you have to fight the whole game, and when Data Riku is injected with the stuff, he screams before freezing up and staring dead-eyed into space, as shown in that screenshot.

That's freaky! And a really scary thing for Sora to have to see happen to his best friend!

So him telling Mickey what happened in a panicked voice didn't even register as a line to take special note of, because why would it? What else was he supposed to say? I was way too invested and stressed out to care about what it would sound like out of context; I was IN the context! And the context had me on the edge of my seat!

This is the case with a lot of lines in this series that get paraded around as evidence that the writing in KH is sooo chaotic, so silly, so embarrassing, so cringe. I'm not saying that every line of dialogue comes across as totally natural, the series is capable of taking me out of the experience because of something being stilted or awkward. But rarely ever when it's trying to be sincere or dramatic.

Replica Riku: Because I'm you. Riku: No, I'M me. Replica Riku: "I'm me," he says.

This is another example. When I actually sit back and watch just that first bit of the cutscene, yeah, it sounds a little ridiculous. The back-and-forth happening here is just redundant enough to follow the "rule of threes" to comedy, so I get why people get a good chuckle out of it when it's isolated to just this.

It did not feel ridiculous after watching the series of harrowing events Replica Riku goes through before getting to that point. It certainly stops being ridiculous when he follows it up with this speech:

Replica Riku: Must be nice being real. A fake like me could never get away with saying that. That's right, I'm a phony, a fake! The way I look, the way I feel, everything I remember! And even this newfound power! I thought by finding some new strength, I could finally be someone - someone who's not at all you! But... nothing changes... I'm still just empty! Everything about me is borrowed. As long as you're around, I'll never be more than a shadow!

I bring this up to segue into another point: even KH's fans have a hard time moving past their perceptions of what it should be as a Respectable Video Game. Particularly whenever it does something that's just a little too weird, or lame, for the average mainstream.

Something like, oh I dunno... putting relevant story content on handhelds?

While this wasn't intentional, both of the examples I've used so far have come from games that were originally made for the Nintendo DS and GBA respectively. I just used screenshots from their Playstation versions because I like how their body language is animated in them.

(I also wasn't intending to make both examples about Riku, it just kind of happened)

But anyway, handheld games are also something that's generally considered to be "less legitimate" than their console counterparts. This isn't to say that handheld gaming isn't extremely popular in its own right, because it is! Series that stick to handhelds, like Pokemon, are loved for their portability.

But outside of some exceptions like Fire Emblem, if a series has games on both types of systems, the handheld ones will always be considered "less mainline" by default, regardless of what's actually in them. For an example of this, I would point to the Zelda series, and how little its handheld titles are talked about compared to its console releases. Furthermore, the Link's Awakening remake (while technically on a handheld-console hybrid) decided to ditch the pixel art in favor of going full 3D, which showcases a slightly different but related stigma.

So what happens when Kingdom Hearts, a game that debuted in 3D on a home console, starts putting the majority of its story onto handhelds?

Well, a massive chunk of the fanbase starts calling them "spinoffs," of course! Even though the ratio of console releases to handheld ones literally looks like this:

(That's a 6:8 ratio, for reference, counting KH4 and Missing Link which haven't been released yet. It's even more slanted in the handheld's favor when you consider the short length of 0.2 and especially Melody of Memory in terms of story content)

And now we still have people talking about how we waited 13+ years for KH3 after KH2, as if nothing really important happened in between those two games, or as if a game arbitrarily having a number 3 on it is going to make it more important than everything else. And this is said by people who DO CARE about the games that were released during that time! What is happening!!

People loooove to act like you can skip over games like Coded or Union Cross and they especially love to complain that a series like this would even consider putting story content on a phone. And in such a cute art style?? A cute 2D art style??? How in the wORLD am I supposed to take something sEriOUsLY when it's on... the most accessible gaming device out there??? For free?????

(I'm willing to bet that some people will be slightly more inclined to play Missing Link because it's in 3D, but most are definitely going to just be asking "why isn't this on consoles" as if the story isn't intertwined with the gameplay format they chose at all)

And so we run into the same problem as the people who haven't even played the games: dismissing something as not really worth investing their time into based on surface-level judgements. Because even if you're down with KH's brand of storytelling, there are other barriers you could have to the series that it will repeatedly ask you to lower, and you might not be willing to.

Kingdom Hearts is a series that demands you get over your biases about what counts as real art to be taken seriously, or it WILL leave you behind in the narrative. Don't want to play a phone game? Don't want to even look up the story on YouTube? Too bad, it's required reading for the next ~Numbered Title~ that you respect so much. Good luck being confused the whole time.

Don't want to play a DS game? And you won't even watch the condensed movie version that we put in our Respectable Console Collection? Okay, but don't come crying to us when its recurring narrative themes seem like they came out of nowhere later on.

This is a series that does not have spinoffs, and trying to explain that to someone who hasn't played it makes it sound absurd. "The mobile games are important?" a non-fan asks, laughing at the concept. "Yeah, it's pretty stupid," the fan responds with a laugh of their own, because even after everything, how can they really engage with this story on its own terms when it makes such silly decisions? When it has such cringey titles? When it's so embarrassing to like?

I think I might've strayed a bit from the initial thesis statement of this post, but my point is that Kingdom Hearts exposes a lot of elitism in people regarding games and art. It pushes the limits of what it can expect its audience to take seriously, delivering purposeful, engaging storytelling no matter if it's 2D or 3D, a Triple-A Video Game on your Playstation console or a free-to-play phone game. Which makes it pretty darn neat, I'd say.

And also sometimes I get thrown off by what becomes a meme, because I get so invested in the story that I forget things can be funny out of context

#kingdom hearts #analysis #meta #KH is like. 'I am cringe but I am free' incarnate #You CANNOT be weighed down by how cringey the series can seem if you have any hope of engaging with it properly #Which is something I'd say is true of like... most things honestly #Including life itself since we're already getting deep about it #But for the purpose of this post we're focusing on how it applies to KH

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zeroaddzero · 1 year ago

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Top 10 Horniest Bruce Springsteen songs, ranked

Yes there are more horny Bruce songs. Too many horny songs for one list. I don’t know if his game was good because he knew how to write horny songs, or if his game inspired him to write horny songs. Either way, we’ve been blessed musically with a lot of horny songs. Here’s the horny songs I managed to fit into a (very biased) list:

1. I'm On Fire

THE horny Bruce song. A fever fantasy of a wet dream smushed into one moaning, sweaty mess. Before I was a fan, this (coupled with the below performance) was the song that made me go "OH. I get it now."

Spotify LINK

At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet And a freight train running through the middle of my head Only you can cool my desire

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2. Pink Cadillac

About as subtle as Lady Gaga’s “Disco Stick.” Even better paired with the BITUSA tour intro (said intro got noticeably more sexual after Bruce got married in 1985).

Spotify LINK

They say Eve tempted Adam with an apple But man I an’t goin for that I know it was her pink Cadillac

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3. Fire

Originally written for Elvis, the bass line alone for this #problematic 70s “don't play coy with me” number will make you reconsider feminism for 5 minutes. The 1986 performance is downright NSFW.

Spotify LINK

You had a hold on me right from the start A grip so tight I couldn't tear it apart

youtube

4. The Fever

Bruce is king of the “lying in bed thinking of how horny this person makes me” genre, and this is one of his finest examples. At almost 8 minutes, it’s the tantric equivalent to the more concentrated "I’m on Fire". Anybody noticing a “burning” theme here?

Spotify LINK

Well now the day grows longer The love just grows stronger, baby And the fever gets so bad at night I got the fever for the girl

youtube

5. Because The Night

Bruce never finished the lyrics, and this song arguably belongs to Patti Smith now. Bruce has even said as much. However, I am biased and enjoy this banger too much to let technicalities get in the way of horny. On the list it goes.

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Because the night belongs to lovers Because the night belongs to lust Because the night belongs to lovers Because the night belongs to us

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6. Red Headed Woman

I'm Going Down may seem raunchy until you realise it's about a bad breakup. For the other thing, we have this entry. Folks, this song is literally about eating pussy. Bruce even introduced it as such during his Ghost of Tom Joad tour. I’ve yet to recover from the whiplash of hearing him say the word “cunnilingus” while performing at his old Catholic high school.

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Well listen up stud Your life's been wasted 'Til you've been down on your knees and tasted A red headed woman

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7. She's The One

Speculated to have been written about the violinist who played on the album Born To Run, this tune shows our boy is down baaad. Best paired with the excellent "Mona" intro, which is included in the Houston '78 live performance below.

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With her killer graces and her secret places That no boy can fill with her hands on her hips Oh and that smile on her lips Because she knows that it kills me

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8. Part Man, Part Monkey

My Tunnel of Love tour knowledge is woefully lacking despite the tour being his most explicit, and the accompanying album being in my top 3. In the eyes of the public, Bruce was still with his first wife when this video was shot in 1988. Only the band knew he was recently separated, so imagine watching a presumably married man on stage eye-fucking his backup singer. The gossip mill must have been insane after each show.

Spotify LINK

Well the night is dark, the moon is full The flowers of romance exert their pull We talk awhile, my fingers slip I'm hard and crackling like a whip

youtube

9. Crush On You

Another genre this Jersey dude excels at is “horny to the point of funny.” Bruce himself has called it "the worst song we ever put on a record" but hey, what does he know.

Spotify LINK

For one kiss, darling I swear everything I would give 'Cause she's a walking talking reason to live

youtube

10. Cover Me

I just realised this is only one of four songs on this list included on an official Springsteen album (if you don't count the outtake compilations.) And how fitting it is to start and end this list with Paris '85 concert footage!

Spotify LINK

Now promise me baby you won't let them find us Hold me in your arms, let's let our love blind us Cover me, shut the door and cover me I'm looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me

youtube

Honourable mentions (song/album):

Rosalita / The Wild, The Innocent & The E Street Shuffle Candy's Room / Darkness on the Edge of Town Ramrod / The River Cindy / The River (outtakes) Ain’t got you / Tunnel of Love The Fuse / The Rising

Let me know if you think I missed any! I won't change the list, but more horny song discourse is always good.

#bruce springsteen #e street band #rock music #bruceposting #Youtube #long post

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dcbutinamrev · 4 months ago

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Realizing Ponyboy would be the last one standing in the gang hurts me. This is how I’d think it’d play out.

Johnny was the first one to die, from burns from the fire but he died a hero

Dally not too long after that, in Ponyboy’s heart, he’d die a hero as well. Despite Dally’s reputation and how Pony states, he didn’t quite exactly like Dally, (I don’t remember the correct wording he used) he still looked up to him, still admired his mean looks. He was like another brother to Pony.

Then, his brother gets drafted into Vietnam a few years later after the book. Steve wanted to get drafted as well, where Soda goes he goes. But Soda tried to keep him out. I’d always headcanoned both he and Steve to get drafted. But Steve makes it out alive. When Steve returns without his brother—someone who’d he’d promise the Curtis brothers he’d protect and bring home alive—Ponyboy just runs to him and hugs Steve who holds Soda’s uniform before Darry. The trio crumple to the floor, grieving over another brother.

Then Steve would die of a broken heart. Literally. Like how Johnny was to Dally, Soda was not only his best friend, but the one he loved the most. The one person who seemed to understand him, despite their long time friendship since they were kids. He’d try to get back to work at the DX, but every time he enters the station, he gets whiplashes of Soda and it led him to insanity, it almost scared Pony, Darry and Two. Ponyboy feared it must have been the PTSD hitting him and he was right. Even a year after Soda’s death, Steve drinks himself in denial. And, on one fateful night, he gets in his car and drives under the influence of drinking. Suffice it to say, he felt at peace finally and sees Soda’s smiling face. The police found him like that, faced up and smiling.

Two-Bit would have been next. He’d live a relatively good life. He’d marry, much to Darry’s surprise. He’d even tried to stop drinking after Steve’s death. He tried to be strong for the two remaining Curtis brothers which is why he’s trying to stop. He’s trying to help Darry with supporting Ponyboy in his college years by earning himself a job and helping around the house. Whenever the pain of Soda, Steve’s, Dally’s and Johnny’s death play out, he’d resorted to drinking again. He never told anyone. Not even his wife. Though Darry suspected she knew but she wouldn’t tell him. Darry received a call from work one day. It was Keith’s wife and she gave him the news. Two-Bit Matthews died from excessive drinking. She found him in his bed still that morning, unresponsive. Darry didn’t take it well to say the least.

And finally, Darry would have been the second to last one. He’d die of cancer and old age. But Ponyboy was by his side when it happened in the hospital. Along with Darry’s wife and kids. Ponyboy squeezed Darry’s pale hands in his, tears on his cheeks as he tried to remain strong for Darry and his family. Under the medicine’s influence, Darry’d mention their parents, Steve and the gang. He’d even mention Sodapop which brought more tears to Pony’s face. Finally, Darry turned to his brother and whispered, “I love you, baby. Keep that strong heart.” And finally, his last words to his baby brother would be: “I’m sorry.” Ponyboy would sob into his brother’s chest, saying he forgives him. That he always had.

Now, Ponyboy Michael Curtis sits on his childhood home a few years after Darry’s death, roughly into his mid seventies, sitting on the porch, Gone with the Wind in his lap, staring off into the sunset. And he smiles, hearing Johnny’s voice in his ears: “Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold.”

#liz.txt #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders #headcanons #the curtis gang #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #ponyboy curtis #steve randle #two bit mathews #i am so sorry y’all #idk why i made this #i almost made myself cry #again these are my personal hc’s #but yeah I almost cried while making this :’)

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dungeons-are-too-cold · 8 months ago

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imagine the whiplash of season 4 for the older teens

like, ive just been thinking about how the spent however long the events of season 4 are, a week maybe? with someone they barely knew, and when i say they barely knew eddie i mean it. They knew of him, they had ideas about him, they didn't know him though.

they went through the most traumatic, life altering shit with him, they traveled to the upside down, most of them for the first time, nancy for the second. They were running from the law, they were scared out of their, minds.

and then just as they are bonded to eddie for life in the most insane way possible, through this life or death situation, they lose him.

there must be such weird guilt.

There are people I have lost that I have known my whole life and i still feel like i have no right to grieve them because I didn't really know them. Family even that i never allow myself to grieve because we werent close.

Yeah, the teens probably couldn't name eddie's childhood pets, or know what his favorite color was, but that doesnt mean they werent close. And going through a life or death situation doesnt mean they were. Im sure steve is trying to shoulder the responsibility, it was his fault for splitting up the party. Im sure nancy blames herself for losing yet another person to the upside down, not being able to save barb. Robin couldn't figure any way out of this, she couldn't solve anything, there was no puzzle or trick or clue. His death probably weighs on them a lot like that, like as the veterans of this shit and as the oldest ones there, the grown ups, they feel like its their fault. .

But they arent dustin, or mike, or lucas. They didnt know him like that. They probably think that they have no right to mourn and grieve and even just miss eddie like the hellfire club does. They might have some sick twisted idea that it would be disrespectful to Wayne to grieve him openly when they weren't anything to him in school. It just... its crazy to think about what might be going through their heads.

#stranger things #georgia's not so critical analysis #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #stranger things 4 #stranger things s4

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britishassistant · 9 months ago

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An Act of Infinite Optimism

Apollo notices it quickest.

Some might say he could have been quicker on the uptake, which, okay, rude. He’d like to see this hypothetical some do any better, considering the circumstances.

He thinks he can be forgiven for being somewhat distracted given he and Trucy found Lamiroir unresponsive inside an instrument case.

So no, he doesn’t notice while he’s sent Trucy to get help, staying to make sure Lamiroir keeps breathing, that whoever hurt her doesn’t come back to finish the job.

(Every time he blinks, Mr. LeTouse’s face swims in front of his eyes, gasping his last terrified breaths as Apollo can do nothing. He’s not letting that happen again. He won’t.)

But once help has arrived, after Ema’s let them ride in the squad car with her to the Hickfield clinic, and they’ve received the news that Lamiroir is going to be all right?

Things fall into place fast enough to give him whiplash.

It’s the first time Apollo’s seen her without her mantle, is the thing. And his brain, in between being desperately glad she’s okay and dutifully recording her account of the attack, absentmindedly notes that she has the same stickity-up cowlick Trucy gets whenever her top hat is removed.

It must be a thing that people with that kind of wavy hair share, he assumes, as they have the same pseudo-curls framing their faces and fighting to escape the confines of their respective hair ties. True, Trucy’s hair is a much darker shade than the singer’s, almost verging on black, but apart from that, she could have a career as a Lamiroir impersonator later in life. It may not pay as well as magic, but she’d be able to pull it off. Especially with how similar their noses are.

In fact, call him crazy, but Lamiroir’s eyes and Trucy’s are practically the exact same shadOHMYGOD.

“Polly?”

“I’MFINE!” Bursts from the Chords of Steel before he can stop it. “I, uh. I stubbed my toe!”

Trucy cocks her head to the side, squinting at him. “How? There isn’t anything to.”

“I stubbed it. On my shoe.” Apollo lies.

Trucy’s squint only gets more pronounced, but thankfully Lamiroir’s real doctor comes in with the chart that corroborates her testimony.

She doesn’t bring it up as they head back to Sunshine Coliseum to see if he can get anything more out of “Uncle” Valant, but Apollo’s mind keeps darting between the evidence for the actual court case which is his job and the evidence for this completely insane hypothesis that‘s probably a product of stress. Or sleep deprivation. Or both.

He just needs proof that this is nothing but a delusion. Then it’ll stop bugging him.

Which is why he awkwardly asks, “So, if Valant was partners with your father, was he friends with your mother too?”

Trucy freezes.

Only for a moment. To anyone else, it looks as though she’s smiling bright as usual as she follows along beside him.

But even without his bracelet tightening around his wrist, he can spot her fingers pinching the folds of her cloak.

“I dunno! I mean, she musta been, since Uncle Valant and Daddy were best friends and partners!” It’s almost impressive how she deflects the question.

“But you’re not sure?” He probes gently. “Trucy, if you don’t wanna tell me, it’s okay. I trust you, I just wanted—“

“No, it’s fine!” She grins, a brilliant performance. “I can’t really remember Mommy too well—Daddy always said when I was really little, one of her tricks went wrong and she vanished! Somewhere where even Daddy, who’s the best magician of all time, couldn’t find her! Unlucky, huh?”

“Yeah,” Apollo says, screaming internally. “Unlucky.”

Spotting Ema spraying for blood in the hall where Lamiroir said she was attacked is so great a relief Apollo thinks he might faint.

“Trucy, do you think you could try to find Valant for me?” He leans against a wall in what he hopes is a casual way, crossing his legs. “I’m kinda worn out from…everything, and you probably have some magician experience that lets you know where he’ll pop up, right.”

Trudy gives him that suspicious, squinty look again, before she snickers.

“Really, Polly, I’m not that delicate! You can just say, ‘oh I need to go to the bathroom’, you don’t need to dance around it all the time!”

“WH—!” Apollo sputters, “No, I—!”

“Feel free to take your time, Polly!” Trucy sing-songs as she skips away. “I’ll bring Uncle Valant to the stage when you’re done!”

An aggravated groan drags itself out of Apollo’s chest. He cares about Trucy, but he’d really appreciate it if she stopped trying to kill him with embarrassment.

“If it’s that bad, you could always use the staff bathroom.” Pipes up the detective behind him. “It’s down the hall and—“

“I DON’T NEED TO!” The Chords of Steel interject.

At Ema’s disapproving glare, he clears his throat, focuses on his volume modulation. “I just, uh, needed to talk to you about something. In private.”

Ema lowers the spray bottle. “About the case? But why send Trucy away?”

“Not…about the case, exactly? But it’s not unrelated, per se…”

“I haven’t got time for riddles, Apollo.” Ema says, folding her arms. “Just spit it out already!”

Apollo exhales.

“I think Lamiroir might be Trucy’s birth mother.”

Ema stares at him.

“This isn’t just because they have brown hair and blue eyes, is it?” One hand begins to rifle through her satchel in a now familiar search for Snackoos. “Because I have brown hair and blue eyes, Apollo, and last I checked the only family member I’ve got is coming up for parole upstate—“

“No, thAT’S—?!” Apollo focuses on forcing his voice down to a harsh whisper. “Okay, fine, it was kind of based on that, but your eyes aren’t the exact same color as Trucy’s. Lamiroir’s are. And the similarities don’t stop there!”

At Ema’s doubtful gaze, he persists. “Plus, Trucy said her mom ‘vanished’ when she was little, which lines up with Lamiroir saying she can’t recall any of her past before she and Machi got their start—even if she did, Lamiroir may not recognize Trucy now she’s gotten older, especially since she only has Trucy’s voice to go on! Trucy herself admitted that she was so young, she had very little memory of her birth mother! And, she introduced herself as Trucy Wright, not—!“

“Okay, okay.” The sharp munching of Snackoos cuts off his tirade as Ema continues. “You have a lot of talk. But that doesn’t actually prove any relation between the two suspects here. Could just be a whole load of weird coincidences.”

“Suspects?” Apollo mouths to himself.

“No, what we need is definitive evidence.” Ema shakes her head, popping one last Snackoo into her mouth. “Decisive evidence.”

She flips her glasses down over her eyes. “And the only way to get that, is through Science.”

Apollo blinks at her, overcome with a looming sense of foreboding. “We?”

“Yes, Apollo.” Ema grins victoriously. “We.”

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earthtooz · 2 years ago

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because of my rescue cats, and because Reo's rich, please think of this with me.

Reo wanted a pet, so he was given a cat. some high pedigree, beautiful, insanely expensive kitten from high breeding and luxurious fur. a beautiful proper 'mew' and very graceful. probably has a diamond studded collar or smth too.

enter, you: the love of Reo's life, whose cats come with none of that. the first time he meets your cat, your baby, it's a bit of class whiplash to his face. He didn't really think about how "top tier" his darling cat was, he basically thought "cat's a cat"

Until your cat, who's just a big, orange striped, kind of wonky looking cat you found on death's door after being abandoned with a broken back that was untreated and healed Wrong, torn up ears, health complications, can't jump, wobbles harshly as it walks, and sounds a bit like a broken honk instead of a meow.

For some reason Reo goes from down bad to down worse. Seeing you with this poster cat for 'mangy stray that's been kicked too many times' and proudly introducing him, like this is your greatest treasure, with far more lasting love than all the jewelry he's gifted you, makes him love you even more.

admittedly, i've been a little selfish bc i wanted to let this ask marinate itself in my inbox so i could cherish it forever and keep it in here when i inevitably respond to it... but it's time to share this thought with everyone :,((( more comments in tags anon !

no bc this thought is so... beautiful. the very clear divide between your lifestyles manifesting through the damn cats you own. that's not to say your situation is dire or anything along those lines, but anyone- compared to reo, could look far off. especially this cat that you are now holding in your arms.

he's in your apartment after coming back from a date, hoping just to hangout and watch a movie or something when he meets your cat. the purple-haired hasn't ever seen it before, only knowing that you got him from a shelter when it was around seven years old - older than most pet owners get their cats. it's... beat up to say the least, and reo frowns just thinking about what it must have gone through to end up with a partially scratched off ear, a limp, and as many health complications as you told reo about.

but clearly, none of the cat's complications matter when it mewls happily, brushing against your legs. it's with a coo that you pick it up, cradling it in your arms, showering it with undivided love and affection as the cat similarly leans itself into you, so trusting and vulnerable in your warmth. it begins purring the second you scratch behind its ears.

reo feels his heart squeeze at the sight, rendering itself utterly helpless to your charm and kindness. he knows how hard it is to get a cat to trust people, even as kittens, so he can't imagine how many hoops you had to jump through to get a grown cat to love you back. the journey could not have been easy, especially with how rough this cat's life has been.

it feels like 6 out of 9 of them have been used up, but reo feels warmed knowing that at least it'll have an incredible 3 with you.

he knows because even though reo may not have 9 lives, you make his one feel indescribable.

#your mind anon i genuinely #i like #oh my gosh the effect that this idea had on me was incredible...#you basically wrote everything this snippet genuinely changed my brain chemistry #this is such a unique idea #i'm #biting my pillow rn #AHHHHHH #THANK YOU ANON #FOR BLESSING ME WITH THIS #AND CHOOSING ME TO BESTOW THIS MAGNIFICENT IDEA UPON #earf's inbox hours ✌️#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ earf's ideas that i'll never write #reo x reader #blue lock x reader #earf's reo rambles #i'm a fan of ur work #i bow down to u.

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buckyarchives · 2 years ago

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The Domestic Life Of Living With a Runaway Assassin [chapter one.]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x soulmate!reader

summary: you hate many things in life. You hate soulmates. You hate the avengers. You hate guns. You hate lost snorers and complicated relationships.

Bucky Barnes is associated with all of those things, yet you can find yourself hating him

W.c: 6.9k

Author note: did not think this was going to actually get notes. I forgot how bad my wiring was back then and going through and rewriting all of it is just. Ugh. I’m too lazy.

masterlist

Today was going down as the most inconvenient day ever.

It was 10:30 pm, and you were sitting in some stupid coffee shop, the only one that had free Wi-Fii in your area because yours is down for the next 24 hours. The coffee tastes like shit because of-fucking-course it does. This place closes in 30 minutes and you have all that time to send in all your week's work to your boss, which is also due in 30 minutes. You weren't even going to think about the fact you spent all day having to listen to ongoing construction outside and having to run your roommate all around Queens to help her get comfy and organized at her dorm.

You wanted to kick someone, honestly.

As you tried your best to focus and very frantically type away at your keyboard. You were probably going to break your keyboard at some point tonight, either by typing too hard or just simply throwing it across the fucking room in a fit of rage.

A woman, maybe in her mid-30s – if it matters, walks up to you and reminds you that the place closes in half an hour and gives you a free, pity coffee. Probably noticing the growing under eyes bags or seeing you yawn into your hand every 7 minutes, give or take.

You had chugged the coffee and put everything you had into the next 20-something minutes and you sat back after your third look over everything to make sure you didn't miss any mistakes that could possibly get you fired. You were finally done and could go home.

Closing your laptop and packing your shit up, you wave to the lovely lady probably waiting for you to leave so she can close up. But because nothing goes your way and New York is just the most wonderful place to live, especially with the avengers. You don't make it out the door before you hear rapid gunfire rattle your ears and suddenly you’re ducking beneath the first table you find.

Your day could not get any worse, you thought.

Maybe you could have just crawled up in a ball and accepted your fate of being killed midst the 7th random gunfight of the month, you could even make it on the news! Nope, fate had other ideas and someone just has to save you.

Your ears filter out everything besides the sound of gunfire, glass shattering, and people screaming and yelling. It's too fucking late for this. A firm hand grabs yours and before you can get whisked away and snatch your bag because your life is worth risking for your laptop and books. You swear you got whiplash from how fast you moved away from the scene, only seeing a black blur of a human in front of you.

You regain your senses, most of them. After being pushed and crouched in a back alley behind the now-destroyed coffee shop, you hoped the lady was okay. catching your breath and hearing frantic shuffling next to you. A man, tall and built, dressed entirely in black with a plethora of weapons attached to his body. He glances at you for a moment and you think he looks familiar, maybe he was an Avenger. God, you hate the Avengers. His eyes continued to scan the dark area, before settling down next to you, eyes trained on one end of the ally.

He has a messy mop of a head, you can't really see his eyes clearly but you definitely notice the insane-Robert-Pattinson's-batman-amounts of black eyeshadow around his eyes. He has a black mask on too. Okay, so edgy Avengers. Haven't heard of him on the news yet. Like you even watch the news.

You must have been staring for a little too long and too hard because the mystery Avenger takes notice of it and his bushy eyebrows furrow at you, looking at you like you had personally offended him. Then, you notice his eyes and are a little, only a little, taken aback by their intense blueness and beauty of them. You barely notice what he says. “I'm sorry, you probably don't feel very safe with me.”

You scoff. “I don't even know who you are.”

The emo Avenger freezes and looks at you with wide eyes like you grew two heads. Or you were the crazy one between the two of you. “What?” you question him and he mumbled and sputtered under the mask. You motion for the mask, telling him to take it off. And he slowly rips it off his face, his very pink lips are parted and he's breathing hard and fast.

“You.. what did you say, your words.”

Wait.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Your mouth falls open and you really want to kick something, or him. “You're my soulmate?” you said maybe a little too loud and it came out harsher than intended. He looks hurt by your tone and if it wasn't for the shock taking over your head, you would have felt bad.

Today is the most inconvenient and the worst day of your life.

“Wow doll, you're the first person I've met that sounds disappointed to find their soulmate.” you ignore his comment and especially ignore the nickname, hoping that wouldn't stick. You wanted to go the fuck home.

“Can I leave?”

Your soulmate narrowed his eyes at you. “No.”

“Why.” your eyes narrow back into his and just for a moment you realize you’re now in an impromptu staring contest with this man in some dirty back alley, hoping you don't get shot. “Listen, man, I have work tomorrow and I'd rather not get shot or dragged into some avengers bullshit.

He rolls his eyes, but you're not done. “I really don't like the Avengers. Seriously, you couldn't have chosen any other job? The number of cars I've seen the hulk throw and then miss–”

“I'm not an Avenger.” his bushy eyebrows furrow, plus the black war paint makes him look intimidating. If you weren't pissed, you might have been a little scared. Only a little.

“You really don't know who I am?”

“Am I supposed to?” you fire back. The ego of this guy!

He sputtered for a moment, ��No, I guess not.”

your back hits the brick wall, sigh to yourself, and slump back down. You made yourself small. Now nursing a monstrous headache.

A frustrated grunt comes from the dark brunette. “Ok, ok, ok, ok… I'm going to walk you home.”

“No.”

“Yes,” he says, you just realize you don't know his name. “You said it yourself, you don't want to get shot. I’ll make sure that you don’t.”

You were really tired, letting people win wasn't something you did often. You'll make an exception. You huff and blow some stray hair away from your face. “What's your name?”

He pauses, “Bucky.”

“Well, Bucky.” you bring yourself to your feet. “You bring me safely home, quickly with no little side quest. That's it. And then you turn around and don't come back to my place.” you grab a hold of his hand to drag him along but you're met with cold, hard, metal. He flinches out of his skin, and metal. Your eyes travel up his arm.

“You’re an amputee?”

Bucky looks confused. “What?”

“Nevermind.” you shook your head and continued to drag him along to your apartment. You were so ready to go the fuck to bed. You hoped this walk home wasn't painful, but when do you get what you want?

Bucky was confused. Your pace matched his as you walked side by side to your apartment. The gentle wind brushed against his skin and flew through his brown locks. He was walking next to his soulmate. You were his soulmate and it seemed you wanted nothing to do with him.

Bucky knew very well he was way out of his time but he couldn't come up with a coherent answer to why. Was this new generation against the universe? Was this some weird trend? Unless you lied to him and did know who the winter soldier was, that would make sense. But, you seemed pretty persistent that you did, in fact, not know him (which the more he thought about it– he felt good that you didn't know). You must not read the paper, or watch the news. You thought he was a goddamn avenger!

He glances over to you, your lips. You were chewing on your bottom lip. It was painted red. You look beautiful with the dim yellow street light shining down on your face. “Don't do that.”

Bucky's voice is soft and gentle. He doesn't recognize it.

Your eyes trail to him. “Do what?” you ask

“That.” Bucky pauses in his spot on the sidewalk, takes a few steps towards you and he brings his flesh hand up to your mouth, slowly grazing his thumb across your split lip. “Don't chew so hard on your lip like that. I'm sure it hurts.”

Bucky's eyes are trained onto your lips, he doesn't dare look up at your eyes. But you are staring at him with widened eyes. You felt like you were on fire.

Too close. You pull away. “Okay, this is my apartment. Bye, Bucky.”

And just like that, you're quickly walking into your apartment lobby, you glance back at him and give Bucky a sincere smile before leaving his sights. Bucky stood there feeling like an idiot, completely forgetting any government or hydra issues he was dealing with earlier.

Bucky was going to walk away but his intrusive, no, protective – as he would describe it – thoughts took over. He jogged to the other side of the building, hoping he would be able to figure out which apartment you lived in without going too far. He saw a light turn on and noticed a figure walking by, your figure. This wasn't stalking, no. Bucky was just making sure you made it to your home, safe and sound, he was just looking out for his soulmate. As he should. So, not stalking. And maybe, if bucky only really needed it, he would remember that window so he could pay you a visit. Not stalking you, he just cares about you. For some reason.

Bucky can hear Steve calling him a punk in the back of his head. He missed steve.

On the other end, you dragged yourself into your apartment and dropped your bag the moment you reached your room. Not caring to clean yourself up you flopped on your bed, with a long and painful groan. You felt a small weight down on your bed and you turned your head to see our cat sitting down next to your head.

You smile and bring your hand to pet his head. “My savior. You are the only man I need.”

A soft purr vibrates from the felines, followed by a meow.

You sigh. “You're right. I need a shower.”

Your mind wandered in the shower, as the water trickled down your body you couldn't help but bring your hand to your shoulder blade. Your finger traced around the words on your back. Your lip tug at your bottom lip. You nibbled at the already raw skin. Don't do that. You could practically feel the warmth of his hand on your face as your mind flashes back to when he was standing so close to you just moments ago.

Bucky. There was no way you were going to let him haunt your head now. You turned the warm water off and grabbed your towel in annoyance. Drying yourself off and heading the fuck to bed. Praying that maybe when you wake up this whole day would be a dream. No soulmates, no getting shot at, and absolutely no getting flustered outside your apartment by someone you met an hour ago.

–

Bucky couldn't wait to see you again. He has been on the run from Hydra and Steve Rogers for too long; bucky had a hint on who would find him first. One night everything got to be too much. Parts of what hydra did to him are still very much a part of him, it was tearing him apart. It was getting harder and harder to diffrerencate what was bucky, the winter soldier, or this third feeling of pure absence of someone he didn’t know yet. He needed someone, anyone. He needed you.

You heard someone call for your name, they kept shaking you. You just wanted peaceful sleep goddamn it. You needed it. You rustled in your bed sheets, waving your hand at your roommate. She said your name again, and again, and again and ag–

“What!” you look over to see her, barely, in the dark of the room. “I'm trying to sleep!”

“There is someone in our living room.” she barely whispers.

Oh. “are you sure?” you squint at her. You don't know if she can even see you clearly enough.

“Yes.” another scared whisper.

What does a person around here have to do to get a full night's sleep for fuck sake?

Your eyes practically roll to the back of your head. Pulling back the covers and throwing your phone at your roommate. “Call 911 if I scream or take longer than I should.” you grab the metal bat in the corner of your room.

The fucker that decided to rob you tonight picked the wrong house, knowing the amount of pent-up rage you had; you were sure you could knock out fucking Capitan America if you wanted. Just imagine your boss's face. You sigh, loud and hard footsteps echoed through your apartment. Rounding a corner and pulling the bat high up and–

Cling!

You braced for impact. You don't get it. You look up at whoever, whatever you hit. “You!”

You are angrier than you were when interrupted from your sleep. What is he doing here? In the middle of your living room, at least he's not wearing his stupid, edgy superhero get-up. Just normal clothing and a baseball cap, but you could see the outline of a gun through his jacket.

“Can you put the bat down?” Bucky’s holding the bat, stopping you from landing a hit to his head.

“No. what are you doing in my living room.”

His face scrunches. Pulling the bat down and yanking it from your hands. That fake arm of his was stronger than you expected. Bucky lets out a pained sigh, “I don't know but will you just listen to me and not hit me, please?”

You feel bad. “Maybe.”

Bucky looks at you and you swear he looks like he’s going to cry. The moonlight shining through your windows makes his face look sharper, defining his features more. You think maybe this is a dream because he looks really good. Bucky looks at you like you are his whole world, or maybe you will be someday soon. “I just…”

You’re quiet, you listening to him. Bucky realizes that maybe he will cry tonight. “I just need to talk to someone, anyone. Be with someone right now or… or…” he trails off, not wanting to think about what else could happen.

you feel terrible. “Do you not have someone else than a soulmate you've only known for an hour?” you joke, but he looks at you like it's definitely not a joke. Bucky's eyes are trained on the floor as he shakes his head.

His head jerks up when your roommate walks into the room. “Do I still call 911?”

“No!.” you and bucky yelled at the same time. Eyes snapping to each other after the syllable left your mouth, eyebrows furrowed and spite heavy on your face. Whilst Bucky looked one wrong move away from a nervous breakdown. Weird dude.

You motion to your roommate to tell her to go back to bed but before you can get any words out she’s shoving past you to get too bucky. “Wait.. are you... I’ve seen you on the news.” her hand raises to her face to cover her gaping mouth. Her eyes go wide and she suddenly looks like a ghost. “Oh, my god.”

What the fuck. “Seriously, jasmine go back to bed and stop gawking at my soulmate.”

She shouts your name like your mother would when you started cussing. “You are not serious. Do you know who this is.” her pointer finger goes towards bucky aggressively. Bucky looks panicked, you wonder why but based on this mood earlier; it was best to ask questions later. It was time to play dutiful soulmate.

“Look, jas.” you grab her by the shoulders. “I don’t know and I don’t care. Just go to bed, please?” you guide– no, drag her out of the room and give her a final nudge away, despite her weird shouts about a winter something. You couldn’t care to listen.

“I’m sorry about her. She gets paranoid.” you release a breath you forgot you were holding, followed by a plop of the couch. Bucky settles awkwardly next to you. “You really shouldn’t go breaking into people's houses, buck.”

Bucky gets whiplash at the nickname, his mind goes to Steve and suddenly he feels out of place. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, you barely hear him. “I should go, this was stupid.” Bucky goes to get up and head toward the fire escape again but you’re quick, grabbing his wrist. Bucky could have pulled away from you if he wanted, but he crumbled under your touch. Bucky holds his breath like he’s going to drown.

Bucky’s days kinda blend together. He likes routine, but there was no routine to have when you're doing what he does. You met him two weeks ago, it felt a lot more than that, or less. He couldn't tell but your touch made him feel like everything was so far away, he caught his breath for the first time in weeks.

Bucky thought about spilling it all out, his past, his everything. But that would defeat the purpose of coming here. That talk could wait. “I'm sorry that you got me as a soulmate.”

You smack your lips and scoff. “As your body should say– uh, somewhere.” you wave your hands dramatically, “I don't even know who you are. Nothing to be sorry for, yet.”

His lip quirks up. “Except scare your roommate half to death.”

“Maybe wouldn't have happened if you used the doors.” you smile at him, Bucky’s sure he wouldn't be able to see it without the soft light of the moon shining on your face. And maybe it's just his super soldier-enhanced senses, either way, he’s soaking it up like it's the only time he’ll ever see it.

“Doors aren’t really my thing.”

You scoff. “I'm not sure what that means but, at least go through my window next time.”

“Noted.”

“And knock!”

His lip quirk turns into a small grin. “Also noted.”

Bucky glances over at you, you’re biting your lip again. He wants to kiss you. He settles for pulling your chewed lip from under your teeth before it bleeds, just as he did that night outside your apartment. You smile, thinking that maybe you'll let him stay around for a while.

You realize that Bucky didn't walk you to your door that night, and didn't even make it inside the building. Your eyes furrow, and confusion and… amusement fills your body. “So did you stalk me the past few weeks or did you just kindly ask my landlord which unit I lived in?”

He pauses, hoping you wouldn't ask about that. “I wasn't stalking you, I just notice things.”

You laugh out loud, and he's caught off guard by how nice it sounds ringing in his ears. “That's literally what a stalker would say.”

“I'm serious, I've been busy doing stuff these past weeks.” Bucky tried to reassure you he wasn't camping out on the roof of the building across your window like an actual stalker would. You haven't decided if you were going to believe him. You just laugh because you feel weirdly good with him in your presence. You curse to yourself, why did the universe always have to be right?

You don't care to respond so Bucky continues. “So you're not going to ask me about what your roommate was talking about.” he turns his head to look at you. He can practically see the gears turning in your head, and he gulps.

You shake your head, eyes trained on whatever is in front of you. “Nah.” you look at him.

Bucky thinks you're the most interesting person he's met in a long time. He’ll test the waters. “What if I'm dangerous.” he narrows his eyes at you.

You narrow yours back at him. “If you're not going to kill me or you're not an avenger, I'm not too worried.”

“What do you have against the avengers?”

You groan. “It's a long story, but they are the reason I don't watch the news and why my roommate is a paranoid freak.”

Oh. so you really don't watch the news. Bucky thinks. He feels guilty when he feels a sort of relief go through his body, followed by more panic realizing he had to explain everything to you soon. Not now though, god no, not now. Maybe he could get by with not telling you at all. Bucky mentally punches himself in the face, no that wouldn't be right. Plus he was sure your roommate would babble to you about how badly the news painted him. Maybe him telling you first would be a better idea.

“Have you ever heard of the winter soldier?”

The golden rays of the sun showed down onto Bucky's face, he looked over to the window hearing the loud bustling of city life below him. Your curtains are brown with white detailing. Bucky shifted on your living room couch, he gauges his mind for the memories of last night. Everything was still all so hazy.

What day was it? Oh, last night. He tried, really, to get out the truth to you. Fumbling over his words and trying to even remember who he was, it was too much. But you, a god-given gift, told him he was too tired to talk, gave him water, and sent him off to bed on your couch.

“You can give me your tragic backstory tomorrow, get some sleep weirdo.” you had said to him before literally pushing him onto your very comfortable couch, before returning to your room for the night.

Bucky didn't sleep, he felt oddly safe and comfortable. But he couldn't sleep. Honestly, he was close to dozing off before your roommate had woken up just before sunrise to quietly go off to work, he assumed. Bucky couldn't tell what time it was, he was guessing it was probably around 5 or 6 am. He ought to get up soon and leave. Should he leave without saying something to you? Is that rude? He was sure you'd be okay with getting him out of your hair, he was already enough of a problem to people around him. Bucky gets up to grab his boots.

“Did you even sleep?” Bucky flinches, confused as to how easy it was for you to sneak up on him. He looks up and sees you leaning against a wall, assuming you just woke up. You're still dressed in comfortable clothing, your sweater falling down, giving him a full view of your collarbone. Your skin glows in the soft sunlight. Bucky shook his head in response.

You hum, your feet shuffling across the wooden floor as you make your way into the kitchen. You start making your coffee and Bucky follows. His eyes go to the table, is he intruding if he just sits down? He stands in the doorway and watches you make your drink. You turn to bucky with an oversized mug in hand, deadpanned. “Can't believe I'm soulmates with a stalker. Sit down.”

You motion to the seat next to you. “Not a stalker.” bucky mumbled, and you scoff.

“You want something to drink? I got tea, coffee, juice, anything your heart desires.”

Bucky pauses. “Water?”

“Boring.” your eyes roll and you grab a bottle of water from behind you. Handing it to him, his finger brushes against yours. Bucky’s eyes dart to see your reaction, but nothing.

You get comfortable in your chair and open up your phone. Bucky is still sitting across from you, glancing between the door, window, and his water. He tries to look anywhere but at you. You quickly notice, a smart-ass comment comes to mind but you decide against it. Keeping the comfortable silence going for now.

You glance at Bucky, noticing the way his hair was still a mess from whatever he was doing last night. Quickly you realize this is the first time you've seen him in natural daylight, his eyes are beautiful and his usually dark hair looks closer to a light brunette. You could imagine going out on a date with him if he wasn't so dark and broody, but doesn't that just add to the appeal? Maybe.

You set your coffee down. “So…” trailing off, bucky finally makes eye contact with you. “You want to try again?”

Bucky's eyebrows furrow.

“I still haven't told me who the winter soldier is and it's taking everything in me to not use the internet.” you wave your phone around in the air before setting it down next to your coffee. Bucky purses his lip. “But, I respect you and wouldn't do that.”

Bucky's eyes are trained on the table, his mind trying to find any starting point for this. Should he just tell you about hydra? Start from the beginning with the 40s, fuck, he barely remembers any of that. He's not good with words anymore.

“Can I just…” he pauses, tapping his finger on the wooden table. “Show you?”

It was a bad idea, a really bad idea. Bucky told you that but you'd instead not question him why, bucky wasn't going to elaborate on that either. With both Hydra, the US government, and Steve Rogers looking for him, being in public wasn't the safest. Especially at such a hotspot for Captain America bootlickers and history nerds.

After many lazy complaints from you, you and bucky made your way out of your apartment together. Bucky wore the best casual disguise he could conjure up, and you and he stood in front of the Smithsonian museum.

Bucky glances over to you, a reasonably confused look plastered on your face. “Why are we at a museum?”

“Just follow me and don't draw attention to yourself, please?”

Instead, You roll your eyes and go ahead of him. “Stalker activity.” bucky hears you mumble before he follows you into the front door.

“What are you showing me, stalker.” bucky walks side by side with you, your presence is comforting in the crowded area. He noticed a group of elementary kids walking around, probably on a field trip.

“Stop calling me that.” he mumbled, “Captain America exhibit.”

Bucky looks at your hand, he could grab it. Only so he doesn't lose you in the crowd, just to keep you safe. Not because he wants to hold in, not because the quick graze of skin this morning left him wondering what it would feel like to hold you. Bucky decides against it and keeps walking.

“Isn't Captain America the like co-leader of the avengers or something?” you ask, bucky just shrugs? You see the large blown-up screens of steve roger and roll your eyes.

Bucky's eyes lock on his memorial tribute. “Don't freak out and you can ask me questions after we leave.”

Your face is littered with confusion again as you look at him, but you nod and turn to where he's looking at.

“..Best friends since childhood, James ‘bucky’ Barnes and steven rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield…” the voice spoke, highlighting a memorial on bucky. Your eyes widen after realizing the bucky standing next to you was the one talked about.

Your eyes travel to the photos of Bucky. One standing next to Steve Rogers with big smiles plastered on their faces, and one of just him. His hair is shorter and he looks much younger. There is a shine in his eyes you don't see now, a bright look that hadn't been snuffed out yet. Bucky watches you as you process the information given to you, watching for any negative or even mad emotions. You lean closer, reading the sign. Bucky was from Brooklyn, a sergeant in the military, he had 3 sisters and he was born in 1917 and he died in 1945. Well, obviously he didn't actually die, more like presumed dead.

“That's…you?”

bucky nodded slowly, eyes trained on the photo of him. He couldn't even recognize himself anymore.

Bucky scans the area, looking for anyone that may have recognized him. he lets out a very shaky breath. “Okay, we've been here too long let's go.” he really wanted to grab your hand on the way out. You don't look at him on the way out. God, did he ruin this already? He wants to punch himself.

You both make it outside, the cold morning wind gives you whiplash. It feels good. You turn to look at bucky and he kinda looks like he's going to have a mental breakdown, you don't blame him. What you just saw explains so much yet, leaves you with more questions than before. You don't think. You grab his flesh hand in hopes of being some comfort, praying that it doesn't make it worse. It doesn't. Bucky doesn't flinch this time but feels his heart jump out of his chest.

“Are you done with being outside or can we go somewhere?” bucky gives you a nervous and almost… pained look. “It's safe, hidden away and I know the owner,” you reassure him. Bucky reluctantly nods. I'll go anywhere with you as long as you keep holding my hand. And with that, you drag him through new york to your favorite-less-likely-to-get-shot-up coffee shop. It's small, always empty and the owner is an actual sweetheart.

The bells ring as you waltz in, bucky very close behind you, still holding your hand like a lost child. “Gary! Honey I'm home!” you shout with a wide, playful grin on your face, bucky gives a sigh of relief after noticing that it was indeed empty today.

An older man comes out from the back, along with a girl who looks like she should be in high school behind him. You wave and give him a warm smile, leaning over the counter slightly, “the usual, please?” you glance back to bucky, “.. and a water?”

You turn to bucky. “Sit anywhere, I”ll be right over in a second.”

He hums, releasing him from your grasp and suddenly he feels a little empty and more awkward than before. He goes to the table in the farthest corner. Front door. Window. Back door. You. he checks off the list and settles against the wall.

You grin. “How’ve you been holding up, old man.” you tease.

Gary, the owner. A wonderful and long-time friend of yours. When you first moved to new york years ago this was the first place you went to. You became a regular and you watches workers come and go, you came here when you needed quiet to work or sometimes just to snag a free drink from Gary since he just adored you so much.

His niece, Emma, was in high school now and worked here for the past year. You would help her study during her breaks and in return, free coffee, and pastries. She was a good baker. You didn't have family here in the city so they were the closest you were going to get to anything like it.

“Not too much, dear.” Gary gave you a warm smile, his eyes squinting. He glances over at bucky in the corner. He laughs “Got a pretty paranoid date over there, I can see his eyes hitting all the exits.”

You scoff, not expecting any less from him. “Not a date, but sadly my soulmate.”

“Finally!” Gary’s eyes light up, and you give him an annoyed look. “Oh be happy about it! Emma won't stop nagging about how she hasn't found hers yet.”

“Have not!” you hear the girl shout from across the bar. You laugh and shake your head.

Gary hands you your drinks and you bid him a quick bye, knowing he’ll just go back to his crossword puzzles in the back. Heading back over to sit next to bucky and hopefully find out he's not a zombie that's been raised from the dead.

“Your water, sergeant.” you joke, praying it doesn't hit a bad spot. Bucky was surprised by the name, he can't remember the last time someone called him that. His body feels weird.

You don't speak for a moment. You sip at your drink, hoping it will kick it as you didn't get your needed caffeine intake for the day as bucky was dragging you out the door to the museum.

You look at him through your eyelashes, he still looks like he's going to break down any second.

“Are you a zombie?”

“What?”

You set the cup down. “You died. So you must be a zombie. I can't believe I'm soulmates with a stalker zombie.”

Bucky's lip quirks up. You're such a dork, he thinks. He almost laughs, it more or less came out as an amused scoff. “I'm not a zombie, I didn't die.”

“Museums these days… always spreading fake information,” you mumble into your cup, taking a quick sip. Bucky smiles, slightly.

“No, I…” bucky trails off, you keep up with the jokes yet you give him a comforting, understanding look. “I fell off a train in the war, I was supposed to die.” bucky catches his breath, talking shouldn't be this hard. “I didn’t, Hydra found me and put me on ice.”

Your eyes perk up in understanding, “like Captain America, right? So why are you on the run then?” bucky looks down, and both of your hands are cupped around your drink. He wants to grab it.

“I'm not Captain America, I did a lot of bad things when Hydra had me. I killed…” Bucky trails off, and memories of Hydra came back to him. All he hears is the sound of guns, and all the blood, he can still smell it. The electricity buzzed in his head as Hydra did their best to strip everything from him, take everything out of him, and then put it back in. bucky can see it all.

You grab his hand and it stops, he just feels you. Your hands are so warm and he wants to cry suddenly. “You don't have to tell me, I do know about Hydra. They did fucked up shit, I know. I'm sure whatever you had to do, wasn't your fault.”

You lean in. too close. your hand raises to his face and you wipe away a stray tear. Had he been crying?

Bucky lets out an unsteady breath. He can do this, you deserve an explanation. Bucky repeats in his head. He squeezes your hand gently. “They turned me into an assassin, they gave me a mission, and… I did it. I didnt know who I was before, but I didn’t... I didn’t know anything. I just knew my target.”

Your eyes are focused on him. “They had me on ice for most of it, like steve, that's why I don't remember anything. It's all so… foggy. I was sent on a mission and when I completed it I got put back under.”

“And when they needed me again, they'd just bring me back up again.”

“Like I was leftover food for them.”

You don't speak, you didnt dare to right now. Bucky's eyes were filled with anxiety as he watched you process the information. Your eyes fell, and you fiddled with your coffee cup. He saw you bite your lip again, he wanted to remind you not to. But the comment was lost in his throat. Bucky felt sick.

Say something. Please.

Your eyes glance at the silver metal shining between the cuff of his jacket and glove, something shines in your eyes, Bucky’s not quick enough to catch it before you're looking down again. Bucky is now convinced he ruined things on the first day of actually knowing you. He feels like he's going to throw up. Bucky is uncomfortable in his seat and suddenly the fresh warm air of the cafe makes him feel like he's suffocating. He goes to leave and never looks back, but your quicker this time. Grabbing his metal wrist before he gets the chance to stand. Bucky doesn't flinch this time.

“Buck, sit down.” you look at him now. “I don't hate you, calm down.”

He gulps. “You're scared of me though.”

“No.”

Bucky blinks at you, once, twice. “Why. I've killed so many-”

“Don't do that, bucky.” you shook your head at him. “Don't do that to yourself. I'm not dumb, you were a prisoner of war, a victim. You had no choice.”

A victim… he hadn't heard that word be used to describe him.

Bucky's throat goes dry. His leg bounces under the table, he can't look at you. Bucky's eyes dart to the clock. Tick, tick, tick… the door. The other door. He feels trapped.

You whisper, “bucky.”

Your name is the only thing that manages to escape Bucky’s lips. He sniffles, “Listen, I’m sor-”

“Hey, guys! Everything okay over here?”

Emma's cheering voice interrupts Bucky, you both flinch back and your hand retracts from Bucky’s hand. He feels cold. Bucky's cold hand wipes away any extra tears left. You mumble a quick response, and a few thank you’s and she left a muffin in front of you. Bucky hears her footsteps receding. He should have heard her coming up, when did he get so useless? That could have been an enemy and, boom. He's dead.

You push the blueberry muffin in front of bucky. “You like blueberries?” bucky looks at you, the muffin, back to you. Your lips are in a straight line, but your eyes are smiling.

“Plums.”

You were caught off-guard. “What?”

“I like plums.”

You hum in response and split the muffin in two. One for you and one for bucky.

The next hour is mostly silent, bucky ordered a coffee of your recommendation. Well, more like you ordered it for him and guilt-tripped him into drinking it. It was sweet. You ordered another large cup and bucky takes a mental note to make you drink more water in the future. Your hands grasp your coffee and a book, he wants to hold it again. He wonders what it would feel like to hold you, all of you.

He looks at the crossword puzzles you stole from the back for him. How could he possibly do a crossword puzzle when you're sitting in front of him? Bucky would glance up at you and he'd catch you looking at him, he looks away, and vice versa. Bucky is not shy, but sometimes he just gets nervous. How could you not? I mean, just look at you.

Your book falls from your grasp. “I don't want to intrude, but you are my stalker so I think I'm allowed to just a little.” bucky rolls his eyes. Your tone turns more serious “Just tell me if I am intruding though…”

Bucky doesn't respond and lets you speak. You're hoping you are not going into a sensitive area. “How did you get out… is that why you're on the run?”

Bucky inhales sharply. His eyes flutter. A simple no was all he could push out. You don't know bucky well, but the look he's sporting is enough for you to stop asking any more questions.

The clock reads 9:30. Shit.

“Fuck. work, I forgot about work.” you stand from your chair abruptly, the wooden chairs scraping against the floor. “I- we gotta go.”

I have nowhere to go, bucky thinks quickly. Before standing up with you, he doesn't say anything.

Grabbing both of your cups and chucking them in the trash, before returning the books to the counter. Bucky just stands there awkwardly, watching you. You notice and mumble a quick, “stalker” under your breath. Bucky pushes back a small grin. You gab his metal hand, covered by a glove, and push something into his hand. a key?

Bucky's eyebrows furrow but before he can get anything out. “You can't possibly think I’ll feel good knowing my soulmate is out on the run, probably sleeping behind some dumpster like a raccoon?”

“My roommate doesn't get home till tomorrow, and use the door his time!”

And with that, you’re speed-walking out, a soft jingle from the door as it closes. Bucky stands dumbfounded in the middle of the cafe as he blankly stares at the key in his gloved palm. His legs feel like jello. A soft cough from behind bucky brings him back to earth, it's the old man.

“Don't break their heart, I may be old and..” the old man, you said his name was Gary, looks bucky up and down. “...you may be big, but I'm sure I got a good right hook in here somewhere.”

Bucky feels warm and normal. Like he was a 15-year-old boy meeting his date's dad again. Bucky nods.

“I promise I will keep ‘em safe.”

tag list; @i-l-y-3000 @ivywasmaroon @waywardcrow @alana4610 @ozwriterchick @slytherinambitious @wintermischief

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky fic #sebastian stan #bucky x female reader #bucky fluff #sebastian stan x reader

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whatacaitastrophe · 1 year ago

Text

Is It Over Now - Chapter 6

Previous Chapter

Chapter Song Inspiration: "Love The Hell Out of You" - Lewis Capaldi

Chapter Warnings: frottage

Spotify Playlist: Here

Chapter Notes: if you have read this fic, liked it, reblogged it, or left comments THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart. keep the comments coming bc i love hearing your feedback (and like tinkerbell, i need applause to live).

Chapter 6: I'll Bring You Heaven, If That's What You Need

Astarion is gone when Fallon returns to the suite, and her heart drops into her stomach.

“Astarion?” she calls out desperately as she scours every inch of the space they’ve been cohabitating in for the last month, just in case he’s hiding under the bed or in a wardrobe. Logically, she doesn’t know why he would be there, but her brain urges her to check, just in case. When she’s certain that he’s well and truly gone, Fallon’s chest tightens and she sinks down onto the floor in front of the couch. Her eyes brim with tears as she curses herself for being so stupid. She pushed away the one person she’d begun to believe wasn’t going to leave her.

The door to the suite opens and shuts behind her. Fallon launches herself to her feet and comes face to face with Astarion, holding a plate of food. The relief that floods Fallon at the sight of him is so overwhelming that she begins crying.

“Fallon? Are– are you okay?” he asks, the look on his face is a mixture of confusion.

Fallon sniffs and she wipes her eyes. “You… you left…” she explains. “I got back, and you were gone, and I– I thought–”

Astarion is at her side with an elven quickness. He sets the food down on the sitting room table, and he pulls her into a crushing embrace. “I went down to the tavern to order food for you, because you’re much easier to have serious conversations with when you’ve eaten.” He kisses the top of her head and holds Fallon closer.

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Fallon feels incredibly silly. She looks at Astarion, and sniffs again. “You were downstairs? I– I walked through the Tavern to get back up here…I didn’t even see you,” She combs through her memory from the last ten minutes, trying to find Astarion in the tavern as she passed through. She’d been so focused on getting back to him, so worried about whether or not he’d still be there, the fact that he could still leave the suite but remain at The Elfsong didn’t occur to her. Fallon looks down again, pressing her forehead against Astarion’s chest, and a closed mouth giggle bubbles in her mouth. Then she snorts with laughter, and soon, she’s laughing out loud.

Astarion isn’t sure what to make of the emotional whiplash and he just stares at her. “...Fallon? Would you care to let me in on the joke?”

Gods, she must look insane. She looks up at him, and she’s grinning. “I’m sorry, I– it’s just.. I was so worried about getting back up here to try and catch you before you left, that I didn’t see you in a gods damned room I walked through.” And as a result, she’d nearly spiraled out, and she had no one to blame other than herself.

“Well, it’s been an emotional day…” He tries to reason, and Fallon cuts him off and grins. “No, don’t defend me to me, Astarion, this is one of those rare moments where I’ve made a complete fool of myself for no reason, and it just might be the funniest thing I’ve done in a long while.”

His body relaxes once he’s sure Fallon hasn’t lost her mind, and he grins back at her, and soon he’s laughing too. “You’re an absolute lunatic, you know that right? Shall I leave a note the next time I go to the toilet, just so you don’t worry?”

“Please do, or I may just throw myself out a window.” Fallon rolls her eyes, shaking her head. She reaches up to wipe her eyes. “Gods, what a weird fucking day.” Though all is well now, she does not remove herself from his embrace. It feels safe here.

“Speaking of weirdness from today, I would like to talk about what happened earlier.” he requests, reaching up to wipe a stray tear from her cheek.

“As would I, but I am quite hungry, and I desperately need to bathe. I still smell like sweat from this morning.”

“I didn’t want to say anything since you were under duress, but now that I’m certain all is well I must tell you how terrible you smell and request, nay, beg you to please for the love of the gods, take a bath.” There’s a twinkle in Astarion’s eyes as he teases her. Fallon gently shoves his chest.

“Well then let me go, and so I can save both of our noses.” Even if she doesn’t smell nearly as bad as they’re pretending she does, Fallon still wants to get the grime of this day off of her body.

Astarion presses another kiss to the top of her head, releasing her from his arms. “I promise I’ll still be here when you’re done.” He winks at her. Despite knowing her previous concerns about Astarion deciding to move out were unfounded, hearing him promise that he wasn’t going anywhere still sends a shot of relief through Fallon’s body as she exits the room.

The warm water and soap do wonders for her body and her overall mental state, and when Fallon emerges from the bedroom with wet hair and bare legs, dressed in a comfortable oversized tunic, she feels immensely better, and ready to have the conversation she and Astarion need to have. Being vulnerable with people is not a favored pastime of Fallon’s, but at this point, Astarion has seen Fallon at her absolute worst in ways no other person has.

Soft, classical music coming from the phonograph fills her ears when she re-enters the room, and Astarion is reading a book on the lounge chair by the fireplace. He only looks up long enough to offer her a gentle nod of acknowledgement before returning to his book. She sits down on the couch back in the sitting room as she realizes Astarion fetched one of her favorite meals: Fish and chips. A half-smile appears on her face as she picks up the plate, eternally grateful the cook in The Elfsong’s kitchens is a mage who’d created a spell to keep food from getting cold. “What are you reading?” She asks with a mouth full of chips.

He looks up from his book. “Oh, it’s something I found on the bookshelf. Whoever stayed here last before you moved in must have left it behind.” Astarion closes the book and relocates to the couch beside Fallon, stealing one of her chips from her plate. Fallon once asked him why he still eats “normal” food soon after she found out he was a vampire; he told her that food still tastes good to him, even if it didn’t sate his hunger. Plus, keeping up appearances with those who believed him to be a perfectly normal highborn elf.

“Is it any good?”

“I think it’s technically a children’s book, but I’m enjoying it anyway. It’s about a young boy finding out he’s a wizard after living with his non-magical family for his entire life, and gets sent off to a magic school to be with his peers. The things that have happened to him whilst at school so far are unrealistic, but it makes for a good story. I can see why children would like it.”

Fallon pauses mid-chew as Astarion describes the book to her. It’s a book Fallon knows extremely well, but she hasn’t thought about it or read it since she was fourteen years old. She swallows the food in her mouth. “I’ve read it… It was my favorite book as a child.” Fallon grins as she thinks back to the many nights she stayed up far past her bedtime reading the story over and over again, wishing she had magical powers. “Have you gotten to the part with the ogre yet?”

Astarion snorts. “Yes, that’s what I was reading just now. Ridiculous.”

“When I was a kid, I used to make my friends act out parts of the book with me in the garden,” She smiles at the memory. “Then one day, one of the little boys I played with, Declan was his name, yelled one of the spells from the book and it actually worked. His younger sister got blasted back by a force of air and hit a tree. She broke her arm. We were forbidden from actually saying the spells when we played after that.”

“That’s…well that is the most adorable story I think I’ve ever heard,” He says, an endearing look on his face. “Are you still in contact with any of them?”

Fallon smiles sadly and shakes her head. “No, I lost contact with everyone when I was forced to leave home after…after my parents died. I went by their farm while we were in Rivington, but the house had been burned to the ground. All I can hope now is they all got out before it went up in flames.”

Astarion takes her hand and squeezes it. “Maybe now that we don’t have agents of The Absolute on our tails, you can ask around about them.”

“Maybe,” she muses, and squeezes his hand back. “Maybe once you can walk in the sun again, you can come with me.”

“I’d like that.”

Silence falls between them as they look at each other. Discussing future plans is the perfect transition to the conversation they need to have, but Fallon’s nerves settle in suddenly and she doesn’t really want to be the first one to speak. Apparently, neither does Astarion. Still, someone needs to say something, so Fallon pushes through her nerves and opens her mouth.

“Astarion, I–”

“Fallon, I–”

They speak at the same time, avoiding each other’s gaze as they laugh nervously. “Ladies first?” Astarion offers, and Fallon nods, swallowing hard.

“Thank you for the gown.” She starts. Whatever Astarion expected her to say, it hadn’t been that and a look of surprise crosses his face.

“Oh! You’ve seen it?”

“I found Shadowheart on my walk. She was at Facemaker’s for a final fitting for her own,” she nods, fiddling with her hands in her lap. “Needless to say I was quite surprised when Figaro said he had something for me to try on.”

“Of course you found Shadowheart at the dress shop, of all places.” he laughs.

She pauses. “How did you know I was going to decide to attend the ball?”

“I didn’t. I’d planned to drag you there regardless of whether or not you wanted to go, because you need to leave this damn tavern more than once a month, and I didn’t want you to embarrass me, so I asked Figaro to whip something up.” He’s teasing her, and while Fallon appreciates the humor to lighten the conversation, she gives Astarion a look.

“You’re deflecting, Astarion.”

He sighs heavily. “Yes, well, this conversation isn’t any easier for me than it is for you, you know.”

“I know.”

Silence falls between them again. “Do you like it?” he asks softly.

Fallon stares at him in disbelief, and she grabs his hands, holding them in her own. “Like it? Astarion, I think it might be the most extravagant piece of clothing I’ve ever owned. If it were logical to wear it everywhere, I would.” she declares with a short laugh.

“You could, you know. With how beautiful you probably look, nobody would question you.”

Fallon inhales sharply. It’s the first time Astarion has ever called her “beautiful.” In all the time she’s known Astarion, and for all the useless (but pretty) outfits she obtained through their travels and wore around camp, he’s never called her beautiful. It was usually a sly comment about backside, or that if he were the wizard, the outfit would be on the ground already. Nothing was ever serious, only ever said to intentionally get under her ex-lover’s skin.

As if he senses her disbelief, Astarion rubs his thumbs over the back of her hands. “Fallon, I don’t think it’s a secret that I’m attracted to you, or that I have been for…a very long time.” he admits cautiously. “Only I think we can both agree that back then I was in no position to be the person you needed; and by the time I was, you’d chosen him. He was, well, as stable as someone with an explosive in his chest could be. Even when he annoyed the hells out of me on a good day I saw how happy he made you, how nauseatingly adorable the two of you were, and decided to let it be.”

Everything he says makes perfect sense, and guilt settles in Fallon’s stomach. Hearing he’s cared for her all of this time makes her wish she maybe hadn’t flirted back quite so much back then. “I’m sorry if flirting with you the way I did ever hurt you, or led you on. Not once have I ever wanted to hurt you.”

“Oh I know, darling. You don’t need to worry about the things that happened during that time in our lives,” He lets go of one of her hands with a wave. “But that’s…that’s why I pushed you away earlier today. You’ve been so upset over him for so long, I was worried that if anything were to happen between us, it would mean so much more to me than it would to you. I don’t think I could have lived with that, or myself.”

Fallon exhales softly and takes back Astarion’s free hand. “I know I’ve been a complete and utter mess for the last year because of what happened, but after speaking with Shadowheart today, I think– I think I’ve always known deep down there could be something more happening here but I was so blinded by infatuation with him I didn’t see it,” she explains. “He was the first person that was kind to me and made me feel like I was worth something in a very long time, and I think I clung to that and to him so much because I needed to.”

“I’m not saying I didn’t actually love him, or that I don’t still have lingering feelings for him now, but I think those lingering feelings may have more to do with how he made me feel and how swiftly he took it all back than anything else. I’ve experienced a lot of loss in my life, and it’s led me to believe that people will always leave. He was the first person in decades to make me feel otherwise and well, you’ve seen the results firsthand.”

Fallon adjusts herself so she’s sitting on her knees on the couch, facing Astarion. “ None of that has any affect on my feelings for you. I’m still healing, yes, but having you around for the last month has helped more than I think you’ll ever understand. It’s helped me move on, and see what’s been in front of me this whole time.”

She’s speaking quickly now, like she’s trying to get everything out before she completely loses her nerve. “And if you don’t trust me, or this, and you don’t want to be with me because of it, I won’t think any less of you–”

“Fallon.” Astarion interrupts.

“And if you don’t want me to come with you to Asha anymore because it will be too difficult to be around me or something, I completely understand. I’ll still help you prepare of course, because I’m invested now–”

“Fallon!” Astarion interrupts, louder this time, but a smile is blooming on his face. “Will you please shut up so I can kiss you?”

Fallon gapes at him, but she remains silent as she nods. Astarion lets go of her hands and without any additional ceremony, he cups her face in his hands and pulls her in for a deep, slow kiss. Fallon kisses him back in earnest. Her balance wavers in her current position, so she takes the opportunity to crawl towards Astarion and straddle herself across his lap.

That’s the only encouragement from her that Astarion needs, and the way he kisses her changes from sweet and tender to absolutely filthy. His hands move from her face to her bare thighs and he pulls her body flush against his, grinding her hips down into his lap with a delicious friction that leaves Fallon breathless. Their tongues invade each other’s mouths desperately, and Astarion’s teeth graze Fallon’s bottom lip, biting gently. She moans softly, grinding against him again as her hands begin to roam over his chest, settling there to grip his shirt so tightly it’s as though her hold on the fabric covering his skin is the only thing tethering her to reality.

Astarion’s broad hands slide up her thighs to rest on her ass, kneading it gently, and he groans into her mouth. “You have,” he mutters against her lips before kissing her again. “The most perfect fucking backside,” He bites her lip a little harder, and she whimpers with pleasure. “In all of Faerun.” The praise has Fallon grinding against him again, desperate for any sort of friction she can get, her mouth moving to kiss his neck. She does not dare bite Astarion’s neck out of fear of the memories it may bring back, but it does not stop her from pressing feverish kisses on his skin, taking extra care and gentleness on the spot where two puncture marks from Cazador permanently reside. A noise of approval leaves Astarion and Fallon smirks, licking the column of his neck slowly before kissing it again.

Her grinding movements against his lap are consistent now, as are the accompanying breathy little moans. Fallon is immensely pleased as she feels Astarion’s cock completely harden underneath her, his own breath becoming heavier. “Gods above, you’re an absolutely feral little thing, aren’t you?” Astarion murmurs teasingly into her ear, nipping lightly at the skin just below it. “You’re going to come like this for me.” It’s not an observation, or even a request.

It’s an order, and it’s so damn hot that his name tumbles out of her mouth. “Fuuuuck, Astarion .” It comes out like a whine and she can feel him smirking against her neck. He nudges her away from his neck to capture her mouth again with his own in a demanding kiss, and his grip tightens on her ass, pulling her as close to him as he can while she grinds on his hard cock. His own movements are becoming desperate, and Fallon doesn’t need to ask or be told to know that she’s not the only person about to come in their pants like an inexperienced virgin. Astarion bites down on her lip sharply and tugs and Fallon’s mind edges on going blissfully blank. “That’s it, be a good girl and let go.” he mutters.

Hearing the man beneath her calling her a “good girl” is all it takes, and Fallon falls apart. Her orgasm rocks through her and she cries out with pleasure. Astarion holds her close as she shatters, kissing her feverishly, and when his own orgasm spills out of him, he’s moaning desperately into her mouth while they finish riding the high out together. They exchange a few more gentle kisses, and once Fallon catches her breath, she pulls back from Astarion and presses her forehead against his. The way he looks at her when his eyes open nearly sends her heart flying out of her chest, and Fallon is quite certain the smile on her face is now permanent.

“You know,” Astarion muses. “I think that’s the first time anyone has ever been so good at just…moving…that I’ve come in my trousers.”

Fallon snorts and kisses his nose. “Well I’ve had a lot of practice moving like that.”

Astarion pulls back to look at her with a raised eyebrow and an amused look on his face. “Oh?”

“Not like that, you twat,” She rolls her eyes. “In another life, I rode horses quite regularly so I imagine that despite not having done so in a long time, it’s muscle memory?”

“Sure, horses.” He teases, and kisses her sweetly. “Darling, as much as I would like to remain here with you in my lap, I did just make a mess of myself, so perhaps a bath is in order for me as well.”

Fallon pouts for a moment, not really wanting to relocate. “I suppose I should let you do that since the mess is my fault, shouldn’t I?” She kisses him once more before moving out of his lap.

He stands and readjusts himself and manages to only look mildly disgusted when his hand comes in contact with the wet spot on the front of his trousers. Fallon giggles to herself as he walks off, and she flops back on the couch with a satisfied smile on her face.

Chapter List

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion #female tav #astarion fanfic #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion smut #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion fanfiction

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not-poignant · 5 months ago

Note

hi there! i just wanted to say i love your writing sooo much, i started out reading your fandom works a few months ago (palmarosa is absolutely delectable) but after dipping my toes into your original work via underline the blue i decided to delve into it more deeply. your universe was hella intimidating ngl (2.6 million words just for the core texts of spoils & fae tales is insane and also very impressive!) but i started with falling falling stars since it appealed to me the most and i’ve read almost the whole thing in the past 4 days. it’s just THAT GOOD.

anyways i suppose i don’t really have a proper question except… in falling falling stars, augus comes across as kinda horrible. i can’t possibly wrap my head around him and gwyn being the “original main couple” or main characters i’m supposed to root for in the rest of the series. is augus really that much of a dickhead in the spoils of the spoiled as well? it seems like that fic must present an entirely different perspective on the character for it to even make sense to root for him. (i hope it wasn’t silly of me to read falling falling stars before the spoils of the spoiled!)

reading underline the blue and then meeting nate in falling falling stars was also like… whiplash. the character seems so incredibly different. is this something i should take into account when it comes to your other verses? underline the rainbow versus spoils versus fae tales i mean. are the stories and plotlines and characters completely different and there’s only internal consistency within each individual universe so to speak?

anyways, reading your author’s notes about your health is so stereotypically ao3 and makes me incredibly grateful that you still take the time to write all this for FREE for us! i wish you the best n hope you don’t take offense to my questions, i really am just curious. you’re a fantastic writer and the way you tackle these difficult subjects is often very cathartic for me to read. i sincerely appreciate everything you do n hope you have a great day whenever you’re reading this :)

Hi anon!

So Falling Falling Stars is like a role reversal of Spoils of the Spoiled. Spoils of the Spoiled actually came many years before, and in that, Efnisien was such a villain that quite a lot of people have never been able to read Falling Falling Stars, or they had to wait a long time to see if it would be worth reading.

Both stories kind of function as 'the main character is the hero of his own story.' Or 'the person who is a villain to one person is a hero to another.'

Augus does do some pretty bad things in Spoils of the Spoiled, but he shows he's capable of growth, he saves Gwyn's life, he's molested by Efnisien (unprovoked), and he's a victim of a lot of circumstances. Much like Efnisien in Falling Falling Stars, he's complicated.

Characters aren't black and white, anon, they have nuance. Someone can do something bad to one person, but still be wonderful to another. Efnisien is actually a great example of this. We're rooting for him. The people who know the people who hurt, might want him dead. Both of those things are true and both of things can be valid. I find that a really interesting grey area to write within! But Augus is very much in that area as well.

Falling Falling Stars and Efnisien's journey would never exist if it wasn't for Augus saving Gwyn's life in Spoils of the Spoiled. In a way, Efnisien - though he'll never realise it - is indebted to Augus for his actions in helping and galvanising Gwyn into the emancipation case that got him away from his abusive family (which very much included Efnisien at the time). And Augus was hurt and threatened by Efnisien for it, more than once.

It's funny reading this though, and I think a few other readers might feel that way. Your feelings about Augus and Gwyn and not being able to 'wrap your head around' them as the good guys / protagonists in the rest of the series is actually how everyone felt about Efnisien.

Like, literally. You're just...on the other end of something everyone else has felt for the character you like.

So we know it's possible, because we all went through it re: learning to care for this version of Efnisien lol.

I will say canon Efnisien in the Fae Tales canon is literally an irredeemable monster, capable of no compassion, who glories in defilement, degradation and torture. He's really not comparable to his human counterpart.

is augus really that much of a dickhead in the spoils of the spoiled as well?

I mean no. Otherwise no one would read the story. He has his dickhead moments, especially in the beginning, just like Efnisien had his dickhead moments in the beginning when he was thinking of torturing Gary and animals and children and other people.

Yes, absolutely.

are the stories and plotlines and characters completely different and there’s only internal consistency within each individual universe so to speak?

It sounds like this might be the first time you've encountered the concept of an Alternative Universe! An Alternative Universe in fandom tends to keep the characters (generally) and changes everything or some other things around them as a way of exploring new scenarios, but also seeing how those scenarios impact the characters.

For example Falling Falling Stars and Spoils of the Spoiled both explored 'what if these characters were human' 'what if they didn't have magical healing' 'what if Gwyn managed to get away from his family.' The characters preserve some aspects of themselves, but not others, as a result.

It's logical that if you take a character that's one thing, and put them in a world where their job, their friends, even their partners change, then aspects of their personality will change! And then the challenge (and fun for us as readers and writers) is to see where they're the same, why they're the same, and where they're different, and why they're different.

What's cathartic about AUs (alternate universes) is we often still get to hit very meaningful moments over and over again in different ways - for example Augus and Gwyn falling in love, or Efnisien making a connection with Gary, or Efnisien starting out very abrasive and hostile and becoming softer and more caring over time etc. The themes are similar, but there's different reasons for these big moments to be happening, and so they happen in different ways, with different dialogue etc.

Meanwhile Nate, as an example, is someone in FFS who we only ever see as an outsider. We don't know how soft he is with Janusz at home. Or with his friends. We only see him in response to a trigger (PTSD), and see him in a very limited way. Of course he will be different when we see a story from his perspective! He's not going to see himself the way someone who hardly knows him and has never seen him vulnerable sees him. Even without him being an omega etc. in Underline the Blue, how Nate lives his life and sees himself has nothing to do with Efnisien. Efnisien has seen maybe 0.00000001% of his entire life and personality (I don't know how numbers work, but trust me, we can't get an accurate read through 'Efnisien the unreliable narrator'), Nate's the one who has to live it. In that sense, it's easier to trust Nate and his loved ones re: what he's really like, than Efnisien.

Likewise, it's easier to trust Augus and Gwyn over what Augus is really like, than Efnisien. And it's easier for us to trust Efnisien and Arden and Kadek over what Efnisien's really like, instead of Augus' perspective, or even Gwyn's.

Efnisien in the Fae Tales canon is only ever an outsider. In fact he's dead by like chapter 15 of Game Theory. Which is good, because he's awful and incapable of being redeemed in any way. He's a torturer in The Wildness Within. Obviously that's quite different to who we end up with, in Falling Falling Stars, and we only end up with him because of Augus and Gwyn's journey in Spoils of the Spoiled. (If you'd read Spoils first anon, trust me, you'd be asking yourself 'I don't know how I could ever want to read a story about Efnisien he seems so awful' instead lol - but I like...the journey, and the challenge, to see if I can guide a reader through someone's inner universe so they can trust a character's growth, even if they don't like them in the beginning).

Anyway, degrees of separation impact how we see the people around us. We as readers are extremely separate from Nate in FFS because Efnisien is. So...yeah, he feels different when we get a story from his perspective! The whiplash is real. Because he becomes a developed character, and not just a 'bad impression' in Efnisien's insecure, sensitive mind. That's the same with Spoils and Falling Falling Stars, we never see Augus' perspective in FFS, we never see Efnisien's in Spoils. That matters.

Sometimes seeing the character's perspective changes everything! I hope that helps :D

#asks and answers #falling falling stars #efnisien ap wledig #augus each uisge #gwyn ap nudd #pia on fanfiction #pia on fandom #while my original stories aren't fanfiction #they're written in a very fandom friendly way #like embracing alternative universes #and different narrative journeys for characters we've read before #and don't worry anon you didn't offend me at all!#if it's not something you're used to it can feel a bit jarring at first #but i did have a moment of finding it kind of bemusing #hearing your words re: augus #knowing i've heard these exact words re: efnisien over the years #it just depends on the perspective you come at it with sdlkjfas

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