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hom3landr · 2 years ago

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He hears you cry at night sometimes, when you think he’s asleep. You’ll bury your face in his chest as your shoulders shake with silent sobs. It’s usually after he lets something slip about his childhood…about his time in the bad room. The initial flash of pain in your eyes is always brief, quickly smoothed over by a kind word and a hand in his hair. You try to sweep negative emotions under the rug, as though you think you’re protecting him. Self introspection is not something he’s good at but even he knows that it’s because he’s not capable of providing the comfort you need. He’s happy to preen under your hands instead.

But it does start to concern him when he’s being woken up by the smell of your tears more often than not. He doesn’t need to look at the clock tonight to know it’s late. You’re clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping you afloat. Your face is hot and puffy with despair. His chest tightens as he watches you without your walls up. Why won’t you share this with him? Do you not think he can handle it? (Can he?)

He gently runs his hand down your spine and you jolt like you’ve just been shocked. You wiggle out of his grasp before he can keep you pressed against him. You try to wipe the tears from your cheeks but it’s a sisyphean task as your eyes continue to well and sting. Your heart is beating like a rabbit’s from being caught and your insistence on trying to hide again causes the tightness to turn to anger. You owe him the truth. Why is everyone always keeping secrets from him?

He grabs your wrist harshly and rougher than he intends to and your squeal of pain makes him withdraw like he’s been burned. It’ll only bruise but it reminds him of how unequal the power balance between the two of you is. You don’t look angry at him. You just look sad and numb and that’s somehow worse. He doesn’t know what to do and the angry flame burns brighter in his chest at how unfair everything is. Your relationship is perfect so why can’t things just be happy for once? Why does it always end this way?

Despite nursing your sore wrist, he can see your expression soften. He knows this look. You’re about to put on your mask again. You’re going to sooth him until he’s cooing under your touch and he forgets all about it. He doesn’t want that. You’re constantly ripping away his walls and exposing that raw aching weakness inside him. You cradle it like it’s a fragile bird. He could tear your arm from your body like ripping apart wrapping paper but he can’t make you trust him the way he does you. It doesn’t matter if he’d only be able to handle it with clumsy hands. At least it would be something honest.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle. “I didn’t mean to wake you up”

“Why are you crying?” He demands. Your shoulders slump at the harshness in his tone. There’s a split second where he hates you. He fucking hates you because you’re supposed to be different.

“I love you. I love you so much that I don’t know how to handle it sometimes,” You confess weakly. It’s true. You aren’t lying.

His brow furrows in confusion as tears continue to roll down your cheeks. You’d just told him you loved him. Loving him wasn’t supposed to make you sad. He opens his mouth to reply but you gently hush him. His teeth clench in annoyance but his response dies in his throat.

“It’s not fair. Any of it. I want to help but I can’t. I can’t change anything. You tell me these horrible things and I can only sit there and run my fucking fingers through your hair like that makes what happened to you better. I watch you be cruel. I watch you hurt and hurt other people. It’s just one huge fucked up cycle and the sad thing is that I’m terrified that one day you won’t need me anymore. You come home with blood on your hands and my first thought isn’t to worry about the person that blood belongs too.” You choke out your confession, finally allowing your pain to surface. Homelander recognizes this emotion but it isn’t the one he expected. You feel guilty, as though you blame yourself for the havoc he wrecks. Oddly, it hurts less than he thought it would.

He understands guilt, even if he’s not sure he’s ever truly felt it. He’s protected from it. Slowly over the years it had been beat out of him. Knowing that’s what has you so distraught makes him chuckle. It’s such a human emotion. Your guilty conscious is comforting to him. You wouldn’t feel guilty for the actions that he commits if you were planning on leaving him. It’s flattering really, that you suffer for him so. It is a form of love in itself. He certainly prefers it over fear.

You’re panting heavily in the wake of your confession, body tense as you prepare for his reaction. He knows you aren’t scared, just prepared for battle. He gently reaches for your injured wrist, bringing it up to his lips to kiss the already swelling bruise. You sigh at his caresses, relieved that there will be no argument tonight. You follow his lead tentatively as he tugs you against him.

“Babe, I don’t know how to break this to you but you look like a fucking chipmunk when you cry.” He laughs, holding you tight against him even as you angrily try to shuffle away.

“I bare my soul to you and that’s how you reply?” You huff, the sadness in your voice is replaced with righteous anger. Good. Homelander considers anger to be a very useful emotion. It easily hides all the unpleasant ones that hurt a little too much to think about. That’s how he’s survived so long. Anger is healing…or at least it’s a band-aid to keep the wound from leaking. Not that he has ever needed a band-aid or had an injury that needed tending. He just knows that anger and cold calculated spite feels comforting, like a warm (blue) blanket around his shoulders. He can give that to you.

“Also, you got snot all over my suit so you’re gonna owe me for the dry cleaning bill.” He ducks his head to avoid a swat. He forgot how cute you are when you’re angry. It’s like watching a kitten hiss and spit.

“You’re an asshole!” You wriggle and pound on his chest but he refuses to let you go.

“Mmmhmm but you love me. You can’t take it back now.” He purrs against your ear. You grumble, caught in your own trap. It’s not like you’d be able to deny it anyway. How could you not love him? Even when it hurts you, you press on anyway. It almost makes everything he’s endured worth it…almost.

You don’t cry at night after that, even if the emotions are still bubbling under the surface. He doesn’t know if it’s because talking helped, or you simply became more clever about hiding it. It doesn’t matter anyway. You love him. You love him and he loves you. This love is immolating and painful but beautiful. If he’s being honest…he’s glad to know that you’re as raw and undone as he is. He promises himself that he’ll be as careful with your weakness as you are with his. He owes you that much.

#I have food poisoning and made myself cry writing this #how’s your tuesday going?#homelander #x reader #homelander x reader #homelander headcanons #think of this as the evil twin of morning musings

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abysswalkersknight · 1 year ago

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A sequel to this drabble. Though I admit it was a little harder than the other.

While writing half of this I was thinking about that scene from the movie storks when they fight the penguins.

..................

He truly didn’t know what was worse, protecting his son from his past self or this.

His dear son, curled up in the throes of slumber against the chest of that loathsome heathen who so daringly has his arms wrapped loosely around his boy’s torso, leering down at Lilia from his chin’s perch on silver’s shoulder ‘what’s the matter old boy, that glare doesn’t suit a cute face like yours’ Lilia scowls at him and replies with an all too familiar gesture that would surely have Silver reprimanding him were he awake, alas twas not so instead his precious son was captured in such an image that Lilia would be cooing all over him, if it weren’t for this one abhorrent factor, who knowingly smirks back at Lilia with all the smugness more suited for a mischievous cat.

After the small incident where Lilia had beat the ever loving daylights out of his younger self, poor Silver had been wracked with miserable guilt despite his father’s protestations, claiming that he had been careless and had startled Vanrouge, thus to Lilia’s displeasure he wanted to make amends with the wild fae but ever since the incident Lilia had practically glued himself to Silver’s side whenever the general was in sight even going as far as to hissing at the fae whenever he thought he was too close to his son. As such Vanrouge kept a wide berth with his head down low and Lilia would have gladly left it at that but of course when it came to things like this Silver was rather persistent. For days Lilia watched scornfully as his dear boy ventured out to look for Vanrouge, sometimes he just couldn’t understand the extent of Silver’s kindness. Just mere days ago he had been attacked by the very fae he was searching very intently for and still Silver wishes to apologise to make amends no matter how many times Lilia tried to advise that it was near impossible to reason with a beast like him at that age, the bloodlust was too far ingrained and hadn’t time to rust away. But never did Silver give up and every time they found Vanrouge he would harshly refuse whatever Silver brought as a peace offering, personally Lilia was rather offended when the rats were rejected, it took him hours to catch all of them at Silver’s behest, but oh well more for Lilia. It had been this way for some time until suddenly one day Vanrouge was found begrudgingly eating risotto next to a triumphant Silver, really what was Lilia expecting, of course his son was capable of taming even the most rabid of beasts. But did it really have to be this beast? ‘Pray, do tell how this came to be? You’ve better not be holding him hostage, Vanrouge’ he growls hands on his hips and eye almost irritably twitching as his son shuffled in his sleep and almost buried his face in the general’s neck ‘why I’ve not the slightest clue myself, the poor thing just waltzed in here all dazed like and next thing you know he’s crawling up to me before dropping like so’ he smugly explains, nuzzling his cheek against silver locks. Oh you little…

The snide, conniving look he gives Lilia gives him the unshakable urge to bloody it black and blue again ‘why there was no hesitation whatsoever, he must have mistaken me as his father or something’

‘Of course he would, we have the same face!’ As much as he’d hate to admit, Silver’s recognition was never the best whenever a sleep spell hit him and Lilia did teach the boy to seek him out when he felt one coming. Oh well it can’t be helped he thinks reaching out to carry his boy off to the comforts of his bed only to gasp in indignation when sharp fangs clamp firmly into his hand. There’s a heavy pause as Lilia stares down at Vanrouge, who curls closer to his son, the promise of a slow, painful death blazing in his crimson eyes, yet the general was not intimidated in the slightest, of course not, what with the firm yet gentle way he manoeuvres Silver off him and down on the couch cushions, all without breaking eye contact or releasing his fang’s grip, so Lilia takes the ample opportunity to seize the ponytail he was so glad to shear off in his youth and send them both tumbling to the ground whose soft rug muffled the thud. In a silent brawl the two fae once again bite and kick at each other, daring the other to so much as make a sound and wake up the sleeping child above them, in a sense to Lilia it was a way to prove to himself that this younger version of him was just as he believed he was, a ruthless monster entirely incapable of caring for others, even if it was merely staying quiet just so his child could nap in peace. Yet as they scrapped Vanrouge refused to yield, showing off his familiar prowess by moving so that like Lilia, any blow thrown and received was muffled in some way. At one point they paused in fear when they heard a soft groan but Silver simply turned around and fell silent once more, suddenly Vanrouge whips out a fork of all things and drives it into Lilia’s arm. Lilia cried out in pain but toned it down to a quiet squeal, he rips out the fork and plunged it into the general’s shoulder who’s face blanked on impact and all of a sudden seized a spare cushion from the couch and screamed into it. Lilia would have found the whole thing hilarious had it been anyone else brawling like this.

In the background a certain Zigvolt raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the strange scene before him, honestly this would be a lot more impressive if the two fae weren’t trying to throttle the other in total silence. Wait, are they mouthing death threats to each other? Usually Sebek would never in his life dare to roll his eyes at Master Lilia but what was he to do? This was far too ridiculous, and Silver was bound to get a sore neck with the position he was in.

The two scrabbling generals didn’t even noticed Sebek walking around them towards Silver where he swung his fellow guard’s arm round his neck and hoisted him into his arms, may as well get him to bed, he thought as he carefully slipped out of the room, looking back to the still fighting Lilia’s, now I understand what Grandfather meant when he said that Master Lilia could be an idiot. Seven help him, these old fae were so oblivious.

#knight's writing #twst #lilia vanrouge #silver twst #sebek zigvolt #Zigvolt's to the rescue once again

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jimothy-hopkins · 4 months ago

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This is my prefect OC Diana! I’ve still got maybe five more ocs in the chamber, probably more.

Info about Diana!

General Description:

Diana is a very tall students. She stands at 6’0, and is around 6’4 with heels. She towers over most students. Her hair is dark and curly,. It is also very thick. Diana usually asks Silena to help her take care of it. She puts a lot of effort into her makeup, and doesn’t go out bare faced. Her skin is perfectly clear and even toned, never calluses or rough.

Diana is a very confident person. She knows she looks good. She knows she’s smart. Nobody can shake the view she has of herself. Diana is very strict about her education, but often struggles with knowing what she wants to do. She caves easily to her father’s expectations. Her frustrations with her parents are taken out on trouble making students. At times she can be a bit of a diva.

Interests and whatnot:

Diana is a big pageant girlie. She has done beauty pageants ever since she was a toddler. This is mostly inspired by her mother, who won the title of Miss Universe for Colombia. Diana wants to be just was beautiful and successful as her mother. She also just loves to get dolled up and walk home with prize money, sashes, and another tiara to add to her massive collection.

Diana is secretly a nerd. She loves cosplay and is very into comics. Her favorite character is Starfire. She also enjoys books that have a deviated series to them. Every Dow and again she joins a Grottos and Gremlins campaign, but her group doesn’t include the nerds. Except for Cornelius, she thinks he’s cool.

Debate. Diana loves to argue, so instead of starting things with her siblings, she chose to join the debate team at Bullworth to make herself look more refined. She is very witty and quick with her replies, often putting her opponent on the spot.

Reputation:

The jocks dislike Diana, mostly the male members. They do not like that she can over tower them and punish them. The fact she is more willing to punish them just puts her at odds with them more. Also getting beat up by a girl in heels is worse than freshman gazing for most fragile football players.

The greasers tend to like Diana more. She mostly integrates herself with the female members of the clique. Diana knows that the girls are the best to ask when it comes to advice on hair and beauty. In turn, she looks the other way when they act up.

Diana has no real stance with the preps. They neither like nor hate her. She occasionally bails them out of trouble, but always charges at least $50 for it.

The bullies hate this woman. She refuses to let them have any fun tormenting the freshman or going out to destroy school property. Nobody likes a prefect in this clique.

Diana mostly doesn’t really like the nerds. This is because of Earnest. She doesn’t outwardly treat them unfairly though. She is closest to Cornelius. As long as the nerds stay out of trouble, Diana won’t bother them.

Quotes:

“All the money in the world can’t buy natural beauty.”

“Say it again. Without the stutter.”

“Quit that!”

“I don’t care if they hit you first.”

“I can get you out of detention, for a price.”

“I know I look good. But I’m simply too good for you.”

“Hygiene should be a rule. This place STINKS.”

“One day, I will walk a runway.”

“You look… unfortunate.”

“This is why we can’t have nice things!”

“I only date men I don’t have to look down at. Sorry.”

“He makes me laugh! That’s all that matters!”

#bully scholarship edition #bully canis canem edit #canis canem edit #bully anniversary edition #bully cce #bully rockstar #bullworth academy #bully oc #bullworth oc #bully cce oc #cce oc #bully prefects #prefect oc

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winterfleursblog · 5 months ago

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Oh baby, but it's cold outside

☆ Genre: Fluff

☆ Warnings: Just over fatigue !

☆ Pairing: Idol!Seungkwan x SoloArtist!reader

Reader is a solo artist, Seungkwan is ... Seungkwan. They met through promotions and being under the same entertainment. The two have been dating for three months now, but it seems like the reader still feels afraid of being vulnerable with him. These all changed due to a hectic day that 'took out' every last bit of energy from the reader.

It's just a week before Christmas, but it didn't feel like it—you were still finishing promotion videos, recording special covers, and the like. Although doing this was something you enjoyed, you can't help but wish for rest ... even just for a day.

"Y/n, our last two takes are in 3 minutes, let's get prepared now" said your manager, quickly waking you up from your half-asleep state. Work began to be tiring after a month without breaks, and if your manager weren't watching, you would've escaped and went to your boyfriend's filming location to hug him as you listen to his daily stories.

Things took a turn for the worse. What you thought was a 5-minute take turned into 30 minutes.

"Try holding this flavor instead"

"Hmm... wouldn't this poster be better"

"Let's try a different dress, one that would suit the new flavor's vibe better"

The company you're endorsing for came unprepared, and now you had to deal with it. Although your inner monologue has been spitting out curses since they started making sudden changes, you remained calm and professional on the outside. Sooner after the shoot was done, it was time to go home to the one you loved the most.

You absolutely adore Seungkwan. If you could give him the universe, you would. And so it became a hobby of yours to care for him each day; make sure he never leaves on an empty stomach, pamper him with the things he needs when he's in a hectic schedule, and even massage his head when he's exhausted. None of those felt like chores to you, as they felt like privileges that God has given. Your love for your boyfriend was one that didn't expect anything in return.

However, your boyfriend loves you just as much as you do. He always tries to take you home safely by personally driving, and gives gifts (which he rarely does to others!).

This day had been a tiring one, and it has ended. Now all that's left is to go home and see the love of your life after war (a long day shooting).

After the 2-hour shoot, you open your phone to missed calls and unread messages from Seungkwan.

"Where are youuu?"

"Should I pick you up now?"

" :⁠-⁠[ "

Instantly, your face lights up.

"I'm sorry boo, schedule was tight, I couldn't read them earlier"

"I'm at XXX district, I'm about to go home, don't worry"

You pack your bags to set off to go home, 'til your phone vibrates again. Seungkwan has replied in an instant despite your hour-late reply.

"Okay, I'll come there :⁠^⁠) wait for me"

There it is again, your heart beating like crazy. Being practically half-asleep right now, you start wondering if you are dreaming; but thank the heavens, you aren't. A part of you wants to tell him not to come since it's already late and he too should get some sleep, but you yourself knew you couldn't go home at this state too.

While waiting for Seungkwan, your seniors pull you over and take you along.

"Hey, that's the last shoot for this month, let's go celebrate y/n"

"But—"

"Oh come on, don't be such a kill joy"

In a matter of seconds, you find yourself dragged outside in the snow. It took all the energy you got to let go and reject their offer.

"Sorry, I really can't right now"

And then came a chorus of sighs, but it was inevitable. If you drunk now, you'd probably wind up dead tomorrow.

Out in the cold, you could no longer think straight. "Should I go back inside?" but the building is far from you now. "Where could seungkwan be?" and he has just started driving by now. "How longer will my eyes stay awake?" and you're basically sleep walking right now.

It was useless, all you could do is walk back to the building or else you'd freeze to death. Half-asleep, you start making your way back to where you were before getting dragged. With your state right now, one wrong step and you'd stumble on the snow. You start waking yourself by slapping your face, which barely made a difference. Suddenly you hear the a familiar car horn—it was Seungkwan.

He got out of the car and waved his hand to you.

"Y/n~"

Ah, it's that cute smile coupled with his chubby cheeks that made you fall for him.

"Kwa—"

The thing you so feared of happening, finally happened. You stumbled on snow and are now like a kid trying to make a snow angel. You could hear Seungkwan's giggles getting louder as he runs towards you.

"HAHAHA— are you— HAHAHA— okay?"

"you need some rest, let's go home"

You look at him with a sarcastic smile as he helps you up. As he glances at your face, his mocking slowly turns into concern.

The moment you sat on the passenger seat, you fell asleep. It was just a 10-minute ride home and you could've just waited, but the land of the dreams were already pulling you in.

Soon, you woke up to the sudden feeling of stopping. The moment you opened your eyes, it wasn't your apartment through the window that you saw; rather, your boyfriend's front camera snapping photos. He was taking selcas of you together while you were asleep.

Seeing you open your eyes, he immediately stopped giggling while posing and hid his phone.

"I saw that"

"...sorry"

"I know you like my face so much, but can't you just wait until I wake up?"

There is it, your cocky tone that makes him flustered.

"Whatever...! We're home"

You step out of the car to battle again with your fatigue. Just like the usual night routine; half shower, change clothes, and the last thing—properly remove your makeup. They put on so much makeup on you earlier that it was so hard to remove. Thanks to 'that' company's indecisiveness, your makeup remover has now run out. With no options left, you go to Seungkwan's room.

"Kwan-ah, can I borrow your makeup remover?"

He pointed to where it is—just infront of the make up desk. His makeup desk was much grand compared to yours thanks to being an idol for longer, might as well remove your makeup in his room, too.

As you were removing your makeup, you were in your last straw—using up the last bits of energy and consciousness. The cold weather wasn't any help too, now that it is lulling you to sleep. Seungkwan was scrolling through his phone, but his attention was on you minutes later as you fell asleep on his desk.

"Aigo~ Y/n"

"You haven't finished yet, you'd irritate your skin if you sleep like that"

But his efforts were futile, you were already asleep.

He took matters to his own hands. Gently, he removed your makeup for you and cleaned up right after. Since you two sleep in different rooms (something YOU yourself wished for), Seungkwan was thinking whether or not to wake you up. A part of him felt scared of you getting uncomfortable sleeping in his bed, but another just wanted to cuddle with you and adore you as you sleep.

Amid all of this thinking, he didn't realise that his shuffling woke you up.

"Oh, sorry, did I fell asleep?"

"I'll go back now, goodnight baby"

It was one of the rare moments you were vulnerable, and he knew 'cause you started calling him "baby." Now flustered and desperate to adore you as you sleep, he started retaliating.

"Ah~ Why don't you stay here for the night? C'mon, you can't even walk"

At this point, you had no sense of rationality left in you, so you just spouted out the purest of your thoughts

"But I sleep really noisy, and I don't want you to see me in the morning bare faced"

"But I want tooo~"

Seungkwan was acting like a lovesick boy, despite the fact that you two had been dating for 3 months now.

"And I...I'm shy...to sleep in the same bed as 'THE' Seungkwan"

"I promise I won't do anything weird!"

You suddenly blush

"I-I know! That's not what I meant!"

You started thinking of excuses to escape the situation when the real reason was just that your heart races every time he was near. The fangirl in you still can't believe that you're dating him, and will probably become very clingy if you slept on the same bed. With your drunken-like state because of fatigue, you made the stupidest excuse ever known.

"But... it's warmer in my room"

"Oh baby, but it's cold outside"

He himself can't believe he said such words, and is now a blushing mess.

"...I meant, it's cold on the way to your...room"

Great, now you can no longer resist.

You finally sigh in defeat and put your weight on him though a hug. He quickly understood this and helped you walk towards the bed. The second you laid down, you start wondering why his bed was much comfortable than yours. Was it the matress? The sheets? Or was it simply him being there?

Those thoughts were dismissed once he started poking your cheeks and stroking your hair.

It was the first time in your life someone not your parents has done so, and you could no longer fight your intrusive thoughts. Suddenly you hug him tightly and act all clingy. He reciprocates anyways with a forehead kiss. You two are basically fools in love right now.

"I love you all the time, but I think I love you more when you're like this"

He didn't realise that you were asleep already, and he was basically talking to himself. Still, he continued hoping that his teasing will he heard in your dreams.

"You can't even stay awake for a whole minute, how can I trust you with 20 steps to your room?"

"Ah, you've been overworking again, I told you, you aren't going to lose popularity just because you haven't done a comeback in half a year!"

"Really, you're so stubborn"

"...and I love it, too"

A few moments later, he also drifted to sleep, and whole night was just you clinging to him like some sort of koala. He enjoyed this, though, and will now coax you everyday into cuddling with him until you both fall asleep.

Extras ; [the next day] !

The next day, he woke up first, and did what he's good at—taking photos of sleeping people. This time around, though, you didn't catch him. When you woke up, he was wearing a grin that looked like it told a thousand words. Was it a cocky, embarrassed, or smitten grin?

Your thoughts weren't composed yet right now, but as soon as you realised you were sleeping on the same bed, you sit up and panic.

"W-Why am I sleeping here?? Did I do anything crazy? Oh God"

Seungkwan giggled a bit at your actions, but immediately calmed you down by giving you a recap of what happened a few hours ago—just that, it's his version now.

"Well, you were soo tired and you basically wanted some cuddles from the most handsome man in existence, and so you asked me kindly if I could shower you with love. I didn't mind doing it at all since you asked nicely."

And there it is, he's starting to get cocky again. Luckily, you remembered last night because of his twisted story.

You were about to protest until his phone switched on for the morning alarm, and you saw his lock screen to be a collage of sleeping faces. What's worse? They're all pictures of you.

He tried to hide it but it was too late.

"Hm? What's that?"

"... Nothing ...."

Since he was caught red-handed anyways, he used it instead to tease you.

"Ah, how cute, I got a sleeping koala with me~ hehehe"

This obviously was embarrassing for you and it required drastic measures.

"Kwan-ah ... what do you want?"

Your tone was serious, and that took him aback.

"Hm? ... What I want...?"

"The latest American-style store or the hamburger shop down the road ... you name it..."

"Why?"

"...in exchange for ... changing your lock screen"

He suddenly burst out into laughter and started getting all demanding.

"Hmm... can I have both?"

You look at him with a defeated expression

"Well, I have two versions of the lockscreen, can't have one showing randomly, right?"

With your sleeping face getting exposed to the other members of seventeen on the line, you just follow his request. He ends up paying for the food anyways and turns the food hunt into a date.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello I AM ALIVE AGAIN ON TUMBLR but now writing for Seungkwan 😄 This fic is not proofread or what, PLEASE BEAR WITH ME !! thank you 😊🌸

#seungkwan #boo seungkwan #seventeen #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan x you #fluff and romance #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #christmas #comfort #svt carat #boosadan

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soaringthroughthegalaxy · 1 year ago

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Wash Away the Pain #5 - Crosshair

After being rescued from the Empire's clutches, Crosshair is struggling to heal and adapt to life on Pabu.

Pairing: Crosshair x gn!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: whump, guilt, angst, Cross is prickly (what else is new), reassurance, hopeful ending.

A/N: I was heavily inspired by these gorgeous drawings by @thattoothpick.

This is the last installment in a mini-series where each of our boys get their angsty shower time.

Each can be read as a standalone or as a continuation. Check out the whole series: Echo, Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker.

I'll die on the hill that Cross is still chipped and was lied to by the Empire that it was removed. And that it's effectiveness was all but worn out mid-way through S2.

The cold water hits him, and, for a moment, Crosshair forgets how to breathe. It feels like thousands of icy pinpricks piercing his skin. The pain, the cold, they remind him that he’s alive.

He escaped.

He was rescued.

Like a lost child. Or an abandoned tooka. He’s not sure which is worse.

For two months, he’d been free. Two months ago, he’d opened his eyes, still strapped to one of those Maker-forsaken tables in that Imperial hellhole, expecting to see Hemlock or Karr hovering over him. Instead, he’d seen you. Wide eyes that had crinkled with delight, his name falling from your lips.

You shouldn’t have come for him.

The kid? Yes. But him…

He doesn’t turn at the sound of the fresher door opening. He doesn’t need to. Only one person would have the guts to bother him this early in the day.

The warm hand on his back makes him want to flinch, makes him want to pull away. He doesn’t deserve the softness, not after everything he’s done.

You step into the shower, not caring to discard your clothes or bothered by Crosshair’s nakedness – after so long with him and his brothers, nothing was sacred anymore. The cold water makes you hiss, but you push through it. “I can hear you overthinking again.” You murmur, fingers leaving a feather-light trail down the curve of his spine. He’s still too skinny; the few pounds he’d once had took him much longer to regain, no matter how many meals you presented to him.

“Then stop listening.” Crosshair’s reply slides out quickly but lacks the bite it once had, the snark and sneer that had sent countless others running. But never you, the plucky medic assigned to him and his brothers early in the war.

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “Where’s the fun in that?” You tease softly. A low grunt is all you get in return, but you don’t take it to heart. Your gaze flicks up from his back to the scars on his head – the messy web of scar tissue from Bracca and beside it, a thin, straight one, a recent addition from where you’d pried the inhibitor chip out of him.

You’d known none of it was his fault. Known he’d still been under their control.

Crosshair can feel the weight of your gaze on him, and he’s uncomfortable with the attention. “Picture will last longer.” He huffs, knowing he won’t get rid of you easily.

You haven’t said much over the last two months, letting his brothers try and rebuild their relationships with him. It had been rocky at first; a few times, you’d had to physically put yourself between him and Hunter so they wouldn’t start scrapping. You knew they loved one another dearly, but there were a lot of problems to unpack and work through. They were making progress, though, learning to admit they were wrong, compromise, and apologise

But you’d noticed Crosshair was still withdrawn. He’d never been chatty, but he’d never hidden away either - he’d spend days in his room in your shared house on Pabu.

Even sending in Tech – who’d by some miracle survived his fall on Eriadu and had been taken to Tantiss on Hemlock’s orders – hadn’t proved very fruitful.

Now, you suppose it’s your turn. “None of it was your fault.” You start, tone gentle but firm.

“Don’t placate me. I’m not a child.” Crosshair grumbles, rolling his eyes as he draws his arms around himself as if he could shield himself from the conversation.

“No, you’re not.” You sigh. “I get it. I really do. Maker above, Cross, I don’t know where to begin with everything you’ve been through over the last year. But bottling it up, locking us all out, withering away. It’s not healthy.” You feel Crosshair tense under your touch, his shoulders stiffening. The water continues to cascade down, a constant drone almost drowning out the tension in the small space.

“I don’t need your analysis, medic.” He mutters, his voice low and gruff.

You wince at the name. When you’d first joined them, he’d used it mockingly. It was only when you’d persevered and formed a quiet friendship that he’d stopped using it. Choosing not to focus on the little stab of pain from the barb, you press on. “You don’t have to go through this alone, Crosshair. We’re here for you. Your brothers... and me. You don’t have to carry the galaxy’s weight on your shoulders.”

He scoffs, a sharp edge to his voice. “Easy for you to say. You weren’t the one pulling the trigger on innocent people.”

The fresher has a bit of room, and you use it to your advantage. Shifting your stance until you’re standing at his side, body pressed to him, you reach out and snag his chin with one hand, turning his face to meet those hawkish eyes that have recently lost their lustre. “And you weren’t the one doing it willingly. There’s a difference, Cross. The inhibitor chip controlled you. You’re here now, free from its influence.”

He doesn’t protest, so you continue. “You’ve been through hell and come out on the other side. But healing isn’t just physical; it’s mental, too. You can’t keep shutting everyone out.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t retort immediately. The silence stretches, punctuated only by the steady rhythm of water droplets hitting the floor. “I don’t deserve it.” He finally admits, his voice barely audible over the shower.

The vulnerability in his words tugs at your heart, and you realise that breaking through the walls he’s built around himself will take time. You’ve seen him at his lowest, physically and mentally battered, and now the scars on his body are mirrored by the ones etched into his soul. “You’re not some burden we’re shouldering out of obligation, Cross.” You say, your tone unwavering. “You’re family. And family sticks together, no matter what.”

He grunts, the rough sound echoing in the confined space. “Family? I hunted you across the galaxy. No wonder you all left me.”

“That wasn’t you.” You assert, your voice steady. “You were manipulated, controlled. We know that now. Blaming yourself won’t change what happened, but we can work through it together.” You still regret leaving him behind on Kamino twice, not stunning and dragging him onto the Marauder.

He averts his gaze, fighting back the emotions threatening to surface. The vulnerability you’ve glimpsed in him is a crack in his armour - you just need him to remove the rest of it and let you all in.

“We’re not giving up on you.” You declare, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek. His eyes close at the contact, subconsciously leaning into your palm, and your heart aches for how touch-starved he is. “And you shouldn’t give up on yourself either.”

“Accept that you deserve to heal.” You suggest. “You don’t have to carry this burden alone. Let your brothers in, let me in. We’re not here to judge you but to support you.”

The water begins to lose its icy bite as your body becomes numb. Crosshair doesn’t respond immediately, but the tension in his shoulders begins to ease, and you take that as a small victory.

“Maybe.” He concedes, a hint of vulnerability in his voice as he opens his eyes to meet your gaze again.

You smile, a mixture of relief and determination coursing through you. “Maybe is a good start, Cross.” You keep your hand on his cheek, offering silent reassurance. “It’s okay not to have all the answers right now. We’ll figure it out together.”

Crosshair takes a deep breath, a shuddering exhale escaping him as if releasing a burden he’s carried for far too long. “I don’t want your pity.” He mutters, his gaze dropping.

Your thumb brushes along the edge of his tattoo, your touch a grounding force. “You’re not getting pity. You’re getting understanding, support, and a second chance. You’ve been through enough; it’s time to let others in to help you navigate the aftermath.”

He doesn’t argue further, and you both simply stand there for a moment. The silence is no longer heavy with unspoken pain but holds the promise of a shared journey towards healing.

“Come on.” You say, finally breaking the quiet. “Let’s get out of this shower and get some breakfast. Tech is attempting a new recipe, and Wrecker claims he’ll out-eat everyone.”

Crosshair arches an eyebrow. “I’m unsure if that’s a threat or a promise.”

You chuckle, the sound echoing in the fresher. “Knowing Wrecker, probably both. But it’s a distraction, and distractions are good right now.”

He nods in agreement, and together, you step out of the shower, the air hitting your damp skin. As you reach for towels, you catch Crosshair stealing a thoughtful glance in your direction.

“What?” You ask with a slight tilt of your head.

Crosshair hesitates momentarily, feeling a little stupid but wanting to ensure you understand how much this means to him. “Thanks... for not giving up on me.”

You meet his gaze with sincerity. “Never have. Never will.” You state.

Your words touch something in him, a little more weight lifting off his shoulders. “And I’m sorry for…” He makes a vague gesture with his hand, but you know exactly what he’s getting at.

Amusement curls at your lips. Crosshair’s apologies were new, and while he wasn’t particularly good at them, you saw it as growth. “Apology accepted. Call me that again, though, and I’ll snap every toothpick on the island.” You reply, tossing him a clean set of clothes from his cubby with a small smile.

Relieved at your acceptance of his admittedly poor apology, Crosshair notes to keep working on them while gracing you with a small smile. “I don’t doubt that, doll.”

You roll your eyes at the familiar nickname, a sign that perhaps, despite the struggles, a sense of normalcy is slowly returning. As you both start to dress in clean, dry clothes, you can’t help but feel a glimmer of hope that this small breakthrough might be the turning point he needs. The scars may run deep, both physical and emotional, but the shared understanding and unwavering support from family might just be the key to helping him rebuild.

Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal @littlemissmanga @starrylothcat @cw80831 @dreamie411 @issa-me-bry-blog

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wearentdelulu · 3 months ago

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Into you~ Chapter two🔞

After class Kook heads to the gym for his afternoon workout. He’s not complete if he doesn’t work out at least four times a week. It’s just what he’s used to. As he finishes up his last set he gets a call from Yuna. He sets down his dumbbells and removes his gloves. “Yeah?” He says taking a seat on the bench.

“Come over.” She didn’t ask it was more of a demand. “I was busy yesterday but I’m free now.”

“Yeah I know. I’ll be over after the gym.” He hangs up and goes back to his session. He hasn’t fucked in almost four days now and he definitely needed to get it out of his system today. To be honest he could call anyone else to have just as a backup, but he doesn’t just fuck anyone. Not with all these STD’s going around. He’s very strict about where he puts his dick. He had a few one night stands here and there when he goes out partying, but he needs to have someone on standby. Whenever he feels horny they need to available and Yuna usually is. Some women in the past couldn’t handle him in the bedroom. Sometimes he does go overboard but that’s only because he’s a man with needs. His biggest rule is to never fuck virgins. He learned his lesson before when this girl became so dick whipped he had to actually lie to her about having a girlfriend. It worked for the most part.

After his workout he leaves and goes straight to Yuna’s house. Lucky for him she didn’t live far and he couldn’t wait to get to her. Maybe he was addicted. Not to Yuna just to sex in general.

He walks in without knocking and sees her sitting on the couch scrolling on her phone. “Gotta shower first.” He announces as he walks off to the back of the house to freshen up from being in the gym. He strips off his clothes and gets under the hot water. The water relaxing his muscles from his intense workout session. He hears the bathroom door open and sees Yuna’s body outline from behind the shower curtain. She takes a step closer pulling back the curtain to reveal Kook standing there naked and wet.

“Did you miss me yesterday?” She ask stripping her clothes to join him. She had hot body to be fair it’s just when opens her mouth that’s when the headache forms. He rather see her mouth opening for his dick not for useless words Kook didn’t care about.

“Not really.” He say bluntly as he washes himself. “I just wanted to fuck that’s all.”

“I know I know I got caught up with work, but I can make it up to you.” She steps in the shower standing in front of him. “You look tense. Or are you just horny.”

“Both.” He replied.

She kneels down in front of him. The shower water soaking her face. Kook grins as a thought crossed his mind. He plans to destroy her tonight, but first he’d let her make it up to him. Technically it’s her fault for not being available when he needed her in the first place.

“I think it’s time you put that mouth to use.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anya was exhausted. A day of nonstop lectures and class work. And to make matters worse she had to work a double today because her co worker got sick. No one likes doing double especially after a long day of school. She works in retail at a local thrift store. It’s not a hard job and it’s hardly ever busy. She just didn’t want to spend the day here when she could be in the comfort of her own home preparing for Kook’s stream later today.

She goes through the same motions as she works. When the door rings she looks up searching for a customer to help her out of her boredom, but instead she sees her best friend.

“Hey Anya you look bored.” Haein says taking a seat next to her behind the counter. Haein always made herself comfortable no matter where she is. I guess that’s expected after being best friends since middle school. Haein was very rebellious. She’s the type to prank you with hot sauce in your underwear. It’s was concerning……yes but she’s not a bad person. Her tomboy appearance makes her very intimidating to other people and Anya always feels safe with her. One time Haein tracked down all the bullies that said and did horrible things to Anya and she slept with their dad’s. She recorded it and blackmailed them until they finally left Anya alone. Yeah Haein is definitely something….

“Yeah this sucks. I just want to go home and-

“Watch Kook yeah I know.” Haein cuts her off. “You can always rewatch it later right?”

Anya shakes her head in disbelief. Technically she could but why would she do that? She’s never missed a stream and she doesn’t plan on it. The last thing she needed was for someone to think she’s obsessed with him when she isn’t. He’s just her comfort when she wants to feel relaxed and chill after a long day. So it’s not strange that she wants to make sure she doesn’t miss a single second of it. “No I rather watch him live. It’s better that way.”

Haein laughs as she hits her vape. “Yeah I think I get what you’re saying.” Haein looks at Anya. “You cut your hair?”

Anya blushes slightly. It wasn’t a big deal she just wanted a change in her appearance that’s all. She nervously strokes the freshly cut ends.“Um y-yeah I had too many dead ends anyway.”

“You look pretty.” Haein smiles as she strokes her hair. Her eyes full of affection and a hint of something else. Anya didn’t know what….

“It’s nothing Haein.” Anya say grabbing her phone avoiding eye contact. She didn’t do well with receiving compliments, it always made her feel like she didn’t deserve to hear it and it made her uncomfortable and weird.

Haein looks at her silently before standing up. “I’ll grab us some snacks.” With that she walks out the store. Anya scrolls on her phone going through Instagram when she got a notification. It’s time for Kook’s stream. He started it a bit earlier than usual. Quickly she grabs her headphones and connects them to her phone.

“What’s up guys missed me? Yeah I know you did. I’ve been thinking about you guys all day.” He laughs at the comments. “Ah that’s right you all can thank our beautiful viewer ‘A’.

“Hey ‘A’ I hope you’re watching this baby because this is for you. I’m glad you look up to someone like me. You have good taste. And now that I think about it……..maybe one day you’ll be able to actually get a taste of me in person, hm?”

What. The. Fuck. No that didn’t happen. The stream literally just started. Could she be hallucinating? Is this a dream? Is he high? What’s going on? Surely he wasn’t talking about her right? Nope she wouldn’t believe it. There’s no way.

“Mmm ‘A’ I wonder what that stands for. Don’t worry if I ever see you in person I’d make sure you tell me. You’re my biggest fan after all right? Makes me wanna reward you ’A’……in a special way.”

Anya dropped her phone.

“Nah I don’t think she can handle me. I’m not an easy person to handle.” He mumbles with a grin on the microphone. “If you want me ‘A’…….go ahead and have me then.”

Why did he whisper like that in the last sentence? Why did he reply? Why is he flirting with her? Why is he so goddamn sexy? His voice alone could get millions of women pregnant. Anya’s heart pounds so loud she’s sure she can hear it. How can he have the audacity to be so straight forward like that? Especially in front of all these viewers. And the way it sounded he thinks this is funny. Oh so it’s funny to embarrass her like that in front of all his viewers? Well technically they don’t know who she was but still she has a right to be upset…….okay okay fine she’s not really mad but she needs to be just to make sense of what just happened. Any emotion is fine right now other than complete shock, so she chose anger. What other emotion would be appropriate? She doesn’t know what came over her but she immediately text’s JMochi.

“Did you see what he just said?! Is he always this straightforward?!? Who does he think he is!? Oh my god this so embarrassing.”

JMochi: 😂

He’s…….laughing? He straight up sent a laughing emoji. What about this situation is funny? Is he just as smug as he was? Is this all some sort of joke?

JMochi: yep he’s just the same in person. What’s the problem don’t you like the way he flirts with you? Come on I know deep down you do.

“It’s about having a little bit of respect. It’s just very cocky of him.”

JMochi: that’s Kook for you.

“Well tell him to shove his cocky attitude up his ass”

Oh no did she really say that? It just came out of nowhere. She’s worked up and high off adrenaline, she didn’t mean to be so blunt. She’s no better than him. Anya mentally slaps herself for getting so worked up.

JMochi: oh I will

“No no it’s okay that was rude of me I shouldn’t have said that.”

JMochi: no he needs to hear someone else tell him how much of an ass he is sometimes. I’ll relay the message.

She sat there in shock. One thing about Anya is that she isn’t rude or ignorant, but sometimes there’s a switch inside of her that she forgets to turn off sometimes when she’s feeling overwhelmed. It’s like a coping mechanism. When she feels anxious or overwhelmed she’ll find some way to become defensive or upset, because in Anya’s mind she’s mostly right. Mostly. But she didn’t want Kook to think she was this childish and immature teenage girl who has an online crush on him. That’s so embarrassing and she didn’t want to make it seem-

“Oh so it looks like our dear viewer ‘A’ thinks I’m cocky.” He scoffs.

“You have a smart mouth on you ‘A’, I wonder what else your mouth can do.”

She was so close. So close to screaming at the top of her lungs in this thrift store. Why is he so confident, and why is it so hot? She wanted to tell him to shut up, to be quiet but her fingers froze over the keyboard. A part of her wants him to keep going. He’s giving her attention for the first time ever and she didn’t want it to stop.

He laughs, his voice a low growl. “Shove my cocky attitude up my ass, huh? If that wasn’t my type I’d be piss about it. You’re lucky ‘A.”

His type? So she’s his type?! Is he enjoying this as much as she was? Or was Anya getting ahead of herself like she always does? Her delusional brain wants to believe that he’s getting off on her behavior but then again he’s done things like this in the past before with other viewers. Why would Anya think she’s special? It’s his job to be this flirty with his fans. That’s what makes him so popular in the first place. It’s like an idol doing fan service, they get paid to do it. It means nothing. She takes a deep breath and for once she leaves his stream to focus back on her work.

She gets up and starts to clean up around the store. Kook’s voice replaying in her head on a loop. He’s too mesmerizing and she’s too weak for it…..for him. A little bit later Haein comes back with snacks. Anya looks up and sees the bags of food she brought. This is what she needs right now. A distraction from whatever the hell just happened earlier. “You’re a lifesaver.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She left?” Kook says in surprise as Jimin comes in his room. He definitely thought the flirting would have her squirming and blushing right now.

Jimin laughs, a hint of amusement on his face. “Yeah guess she didn’t like your attitude.”

Kook scoffs and throws a hand in the air as if he didn’t care. A lot of viewers didn’t like his personality and they’d do the same thing. They’d bitch and complain about how “inappropriate” or “offensive” he’s being and they’ll leave. He didn’t care in fact he liked the fact that he could get under their skin like that. But with ‘A’ was different. Too different, and Kook didn’t understand what it meant but he knew that he wanted to continue to tease her. He wanted to push her buttons until they popped. Call it boredom or whatever but Kook didn’t understand why he enjoys this. He continued his stream regularly as he normally would, secretly waiting for the moment when Jimin would come in and tell him something ‘A’ said but he didn’t. She really left? Was he too harsh? Did she get offended? Kook didn’t know but he found himself waiting for her. He already knew exactly what he’d say once she came back…….but she didn’t.

Later that night Kook is up staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. Why is he craving her attention like some kind of teenage boy in heat? He just wanted to continue bickering with her and hopes to get the last word. Yes he was petty but it was fun. Fun to see someone other than his friends talk to him like that. He grins to himself thinking of what else he should say to her tomorrow. What would make her flustered or upset. He wanted to find out himself. It might seem like he’s being an attention seeker, and so what if he is? He’s bored and ‘A’ is making things interesting. Very interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anya goes through the motions of her morning routine, thoughts swirling with the memories of last night’s stream. She feels stupid for thinking this means anything and she knows it doesn’t. If she expects disappointment she won’t get disappointed right? That’s her motto and she sticks by it. The way Kook was feeding her delusions made her feel like this was all just a dream and she’d wake up from it.

She heads to her kitchen to find something to eat. Unfortunately for Anya she can’t cook at all. It’s sad because she’s almost 25 years old and she still can’t make a simple meal without something burning. As unhealthy it sounds she lives off frozen meals and instant noodles. At least it’s better than nothing. As she adds the water in her instant noodles her phone dings. Hm? A notification from Kook’s instagram. Yeah she had his post notifications on……She clicks the notification and it opens up to his instagram story. As she analyses the photo her heart starts racing. Is she seeing things? Is this real? Why would he post this?

It was a picture of the top of his head. Obviously covering up his face. There’s a text in the corner of the post that says “A”. That’s it. Just the letter ‘A’ with a smirk emoji next to it. Okay he definitely did that on purpose. She wasn’t insane. This was definitely for her. She thinks for a moment about what to do next. Her first instinct was to text JMochi but she decides against it. She didn’t want to run to him every time Kook does something like this. Maybe she should ignore it? Yeah that sounds like a good and reasonable idea. She’s not being rude or anything she just simply didn’t see the post. She’ll just pretend that she didn’t see it, that’s the only way her brain can handle this situation properly.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey did ‘A’ text you or anything?” Kook says walking into Jimin’s room without even knocking.

“Uh no she didn’t why?”

Kook hums acting casual. “Just asking.” Kook was more than positive that she saw the post. If she’s a longtime fan like she said she definitely seen it. He doesn’t even know why he made it in the first place. So he just blames it on boredom again. “So who exactly is this girl? Do you know her personally?”

Jimin looks at him with a grin on his face. “Maybe, why?” Jimin knew why but he wanted to hear him say it out loud.

“No reason.” Kook heads towards the door, but before he could reach for the door nob he stops.

“So do you have her number or something?” He asks trying to sound uninterested but obviously he really wants to know more about this mystery woman.

“Why do you care?”

Kook looks offended. Care? No no Kook doesn’t care. The chances of him caring are so low. Can’t a guy just ask a question without things being more than what they are. Kook turns around to face him his expression emotionless and firm. “I don’t care I just asked a question.”

“Seems like you care bro.” Jimin replies not even trying to hide the smile on his face. He knew Kook was a bit interested in ‘A’, she made things fun and exciting for him recently.

“Fuck you.” Kook leaves slamming the door. He doesn’t know why he’s upset but he feels like he should be right now. What the fuck was Jimin’s problem? He can’t answer a simple fucking question? He goes through his contacts and texts Yuna to help him let out some of his frustration, but before he could send the message he stops. He deletes the message and puts his phone away. Something about fucking Yuna right now didn’t sound appealing to him in the moment so he opted to drink. Storming into the kitchen he grabs a bottle of beer and chugs it down. It helped a little until he heard Jimin’s footsteps get closer and closer. He huffs, he doesn’t need to deal with him right now.

“She texted me.” Jimin says entering the kitchen and that made Kook put the can down. He avoids eye contact with Jimin, he didn’t want him to speculate that he cares about this situation. Because he doesn’t by the way….yeah he doesn’t.

“Okay?” He says nonchalantly but waits for Jimin to continue. After waiting a few seconds he starts to hear Jimin laugh. He fucking laughed right in his face. “I’m kidding, but the look on your face right now is hilarious.” That’s it. Kook had enough of Jimin’s childish behavior recently and he didn’t want to deal with it anymore. Without saying anything it snatches Jimin’s phone from his hands searching for what he wanted.

“Hey what are you doing-

“Where’s her number? I know you have it.” He goes through almost every app to see anything related to ‘A’. “I’m over playing cat and mouse with her while you’re in the middle. I’ll text her myself.”

“No can do. I promised I’d keep her identity a secret.” He grabs his phone back. “I’m a man of my word.”

Kook runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “You aren’t exposing her identity just give me her information and let me talk to her directly.”

Jimin considers it for a moment. “Mmm I don’t know……she seems pretty cool and you’ll scare her off.”

Kook sighed knowing that Jimin wants something in return. He’s just a greedy as he is. “I’ll give you a shout out on my stream.” Jimin has been asking for a shout out for months now but Kook never budged. He didn’t think Jimin’s audience and his were similar so he never did, but now he really wants ‘A’s’ information. No one has ever got him this excited in a while and he wants to continue being excited.

“Deal.” Jimin smiles going through his phone. “I want a real shout out by the way, don’t disappoint me.” He pulls up her username on the streaming app. “Here this is her.”

Kook looks at the name and messages to make sure it was legit. After being satisfied with it, it takes the name and puts it in his phone. He briefly thinks about all the ways he could tease her and he grins at the thought. This was going to be fun….

#bts army #bts ff #delulu #fanfic #jungkook ff #jeon jungkook #jk bts #jk #jk fanfic #bts #bts fanfic

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ibijau · 1 month ago

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Papa Mia pt6 / On A03

Nie Fuyun had run to the training grounds to blow off some steam. It was the way almost everyone in the Nie sect was taught to deal with intense emotions. She had even seen Nie Huaisang come there with his sabre once or twice, when she was still a young child, during that short period between his brother’s death and his decision to present himself as more useless than he was.

Not that Nie Fuyun wanted to think about him, she told herself, slicing a target in two with one rageful strike. Not about him, and certainly not about the choices he’d made at that time, or at any other time, in fact, because Nie Huaisang had never done anything right in his life, and she hated him, and…

Another target perished before her sabre.

It was not the way to do this, Nie Fuyun knew. They were trained to focus on their movement as a way to escape anger. What she did was just reckless destruction, something expected only of little children, not nearly adult disciples. She would be scolded for this later, except… except she wouldn’t, because there wouldn’t be a later for her, not in the Nie sect anyway. She was going to be sent away, because the only relative she had in this world didn’t want her, because he’d rather see her leave than claim her as his own blood.

Not that she wanted to be family with him. Not anymore. Not after the way he’d spoken to her.

What she wanted, instead…

What he wanted…

A third target was destroyed. This time, her vandalism was met with some polite applause coming from the edge of the training ground. Nie Fuyun turned around, hand clenched on her sabre, and was surprised to find sect leader Lan watching her with a quiet smile.

“Nie guniang is truly as impressive as I had heard,” he said. “No wonder Sizhui and Jingyi are always excited when they get a chance to go on a Night Hunt with you.”

“Is Lan zongzhu making fun of me?” Nie Fuyun asked

Feeling it was rude to talk over a distance, she put away her weapon and went to join him.

“Are you so rarely complimented that hearing praise feels like a hidden insult?” Lan Xichen retorted with concern when she reached him. “I may have a word to your sect leader about that, I would have expected better of him.”

“Didn’t you say before you wouldn’t dare talk to him?” Nie Fuyun snapped.

Lan Xichen did not reply, nor did he react to that attack. Still Nie Fuyun had the feeling he was hurt by that reminder. She really just couldn’t say anything right that day, could she?

“Apologies to Zewu-jun, that was very rude of me,” she mumbled with a bow. “I’m… not really fit for company today.”

“A wedding is a stressful affair,” Lan Xichen agreed. “Especially in circumstances such as these. I’m sure those who love you will know not to take your words to heart.”

“Zewu-Jun is kind to say this, but I doubt it’ll be that easy. It doesn’t matter, though. After tomorrow, I’m unlikely to ever come here again.”

Lan Xichen tilted his head, an amused expression on his face.

“Nie guniang, do you expect your new husband to be so tyrannical that he would not let you visit home? I have met him only once, but he did not give me the impression he was that sort of person.”

Nie Fuyun shook her head, a little amused too in spite of herself at the idea of Ouyang Zizhen trying to control her.

“Zizhen isn’t like that, I don’t think,” she agreed. “If I thought he was, I’d have begged Nie zongzhu to prevent this marriage. But what does it matter whether he’d let me come, when I would be unwelcome anyway?”

“Nie zongzhu is a man of strong emotions,” Lan Xichen replied. “This day is stressful for him too, especially as he cares so much about you. Don’t take his anger to heart. He’s truly sorry for the things he said.”

“But not so sorry he came to apologise!”

“He’s never been particularly good at that,” Lan Xichen noted with exasperated fondness. “A family trait, sadly. His brother had the same fault, and I’ve heard their father was worse than either of them. Really, I should have questioned this invitation to your wedding more,” he added with a soft laugh. “It would have been wildly out of character for Nie Huaisang to reach out this way, yet I wanted to see him too much to think clearly. But I have known him longer than you, and I can confidently say that his difficulties in apologising doesn’t mean he can’t be devoured with guilt when he does or says something wrong. He’s only unforgiving to those he truly hates, and to himself.”

“Well, he can feel bad a little longer, as far as I’m concerned,” Nie Fuyun announced. “I think he deserves it.”

“Hm. I can imagine you have reasons to be angry at him,” Lan Xichen said with a sad smile. “Considering what great secrets he kept from you…”

Nie Fuyun gasped, her cheeks heating up.

“You knew?”

Lan Xichen’s smile grew sadder as he nodded. He looked at her as if trying to see something through her.

“I realised once you started growing up,” he explained. “The way you look, your personality… I don't know why Nie Mingjue didn't marry whoever your mother was, but there is no denying the connection.”

Nie Fuyun stared at him, shocked that he’d gotten things almost right, and yet completely wrong. It would have been easy to correct him, but she found herself unwilling to do so. She couldn't betray Nie Huaisang again by revealing the truth to a man who had hurt him so intimately, then helped his worst enemy. But to be seen as related to her father at all, to have someone speak to her like this…

“How long have you… known?”

“Not quite as long as I should have, considering I did know Mingjue as a child,” Lan Xichen confessed. “Not until I heard that you were going on Night Hunts alone or with adults… Mingjue was the same, before he had to become sect leader. You are very much like him in looks as well, but you have Huaisang's manners and grace. No surprise, when he had such a part in raising you.”

Although a little pleased to hear she resembled her relatives, Nie Fuyun pouted.

“The elders say I am wilful and disregard rules, unlike the late Nie zongzhu. They always give him as an example.”

“Then the Nie elders forget that it is a trait most of their leaders have possessed in their youth,” Lan Xichen replied with a smile. “Mingjue had plenty of arguments with other disciples, with sect elders, even with his own father, most of all with his brother. He could also be mischievous in his own way… but then his father died, and he lost that part of himself. As for Mingjue and Huaisang’s father, I've heard fearsome tales about his youth. But elders like to forget that those who have left us were as imperfect as those who survive.”

“I didn't know that,” Nie Fuyun whispered. “It's my family, and I know almost nothing.”

With some hesitation, Lan Xichen slowly patted her shoulder. Against her better judgement, Nie Fuyun appreciated it, although it felt too little. She wanted to be hugged, although not by that man next to her. She wanted her father to hold her in his arms and tell her he was sorry for everything denied to her.

“I imagine it can't be easy on you,” Lan Xichen told her.

“It's not!” Nie Fuyun agreed, anger seizing her again. “And Nie zongzhu is just so stubborn about it, so sure he did the right thing! And I know he didn't have much of a choice, but… But it doesn't mean it didn't hurt me!”

“I would have expected better of him,” Lan Xichen agreed, much to Nie Fuyun's shock. “He ought to have known what those secrets do to a person, both from his own experience, and from mine.”

“Yours?”

“It might surprise you to learn this, but Nie zongzhu and I used to be excellent friends,” Lan Xichen explained with a sorrowful smile. “I confided in him things I told no one else, except my sworn brothers. I told him things I didn't even tell them, in fact. There was a time we understood each other so perfectly that… But I won't bore you with irrelevant details. All you need to know is that in my childhood, the adults caring for me kept many secrets from me. About my parents, my mother in particular… When she died, I wasn’t told for weeks. There were other things too… And Nie Huaisang knows how much it affected my brother and I to grow up with so much hidden from us.”

“So he should have known better!” Nie Fuyun exclaimed.

It was one thing for Nie Huaisang to have made terrible choices if he really hadn’t understood what he was putting her through. But if he’d had reasons to know, if he’d been given other examples of what such heavy secrets could do to someone…

Lan Xichen nodded, his eyes lost in the distance.

“It would be the logical conclusion. But I know he never meant to hurt you. I can doubt many things about Nie Huaisang, but not how dear you are to him. He hid it well enough from others, but I know him better than most,” Lan Xichen said, unable to keep pain out of his voice. “I always thought he favoured you, and wondered why he tried to hide it. I figured he had his reasons, but never dared to ask what they might be. And besides… Even though I know the weight of secrets on a developing young soul, I too hid things from a child in my care, when I had to make that choice.”

Taken aback by that confession, Nie Fuyun could only glare at him.

“But you said…”

“Sometimes, you cannot do the right thing,” Lan Xichen remarked with a sigh. “You can only do the least terrible one, and hope you did not choose the wrong option. At least, it is what I believe, and I used to think others also believed it. I've had reasons to doubt myself in recent years.”

“So you're saying he did his best and I must forgive him.”

It didn’t sound right to Nie Fuyun. Perhaps it didn’t sound right to Lan Xichen either, because he shook his head.

“Demanding forgiveness from others doesn't work,” he said. “This, too, I learned the hard way. I would not dare make demands of you, but I think it is good for you to consider other points of view on this situation.”

Nie Fuyun huffed, frustrated. She would have preferred it if Lan Xichen had told her that Nie Huaisang had been entirely wrong. Actually, him saying that he thought Nie Huaisang had been right would have been a better option as well. Then she could have dismissed both of them as cruel old men who didn’t understand her feelings. Instead, Lan Xichen was asking her to nuance her judgement, something she wasn’t in the mood for.

“He should have just sent me away,” she announced, trying to get angry again.

“It would have been a safer choice,” Lan Xichen agreed, surprising her again. “Being near him put you at risk, especially if he slipped and revealed too much of his affection for you. Considering his other actions, I believe Nie Huaisang thought of that. And yet he kept you with him, close to him, where he could watch you grow up, even if he could never approach you as freely as he must have wanted.”

“He was selfish,” Nie Fuyun complained.

“Of course. Love can make people selfish. It makes it hard to let go. I know that even I…”

Lan Xichen didn't finish his sentence. He didn't have to. Nie Fuyun remembered those tear stained entries in Nie Huaisang’s diary.

“How come you aren't friends with Nie zongzhu anymore?” she asked.

This earned her a surprised look.

“Considering what happened with the late Jin zongzhu, I think you can imagine…”

“I meant before that,” Nie Fuyun corrected. “You said you used to be so close, but by the time the murder of Nie zongzhu's brother was revealed, you already hadn’t been friends for a long while, right?”

“You are an observant girl,” Lan Xichen noted, making it sound almost like a reproach. “If I'm honest, I'm still not sure what I did wrong at that time. I wish I understood. Whatever mistake I made at that time, it is my greatest regret. But I have learned to live with it. Just as Nie zongzhu had to live with his regrets about never giving you the family he must have wanted to offer. After all, we all saw what lengths he went to for his brother's sake. We all know how important family is to him, even if he isn't always good at showing it. Mingjue was the same. I fear that was passed down to you as well, but you are still young enough you could correct that fault.”

“So you do think I should forgive him!” Nie Fuyun accused, only to find the advice failed to make her as angry as she wished to be.

“I think it is a choice you must make for yourself,” Lan Xichen corrected. “But when you try to make it, you must remember he loves you, and wonder if you love him as well.”

Startled, Nie Fuyun had to take a moment before she could answer. She wanted to say that she hated that man who didn’t even want to be her father. But that was just her anger speaking. Nie Huaisang had not treated her as well as she had deserved, but she suspected he had done as much for her as he thought he could get away with. She’d never been miserable, he wouldn’t have allowed it. Until she’d found out what had been hidden from her, she’d even been fairly happy with her life. It wasn’t something every nobody orphan taken in by a sect could say.

And even if he’d been too cowardly to protect her when this wedding was decided, Nie Huaisang had still tried to make things better for her. Nie Fuyun knew he’d given her a better dowry than some nameless disciple should have been granted. And he’d offered her his mother’s wedding veil, he’d organised such a grand wedding for her… Nie Huaisang had done things all wrong, but he’d done it wrong with enough love that she couldn’t be unmoved.

“I guess I do love him,” she grumbled. “But he doesn't make it easy!”

“He certainly doesn't,” Lan Xichen agreed with a joyless laugh. “And yet I've found it impossible not to care for him. Some people are like that.”

Even though he'd clearly been in the wrong regarding their terrible breakup, Nie Fuyun couldn't help pitying Lan Xichen a little. It was a little pathetic of him if he still loved Nie Huaisang after all this time, after everything that had happened between them, around them. It was made worse by the knowledge Nie Huaisang still carried resentment toward him, meaning Nie Fuyun couldn't even offer any comforting words. ‘He did not hate you enough to kill you’ probably wouldn’t sound as positive to Lan Xichen as she would mean it to be. And yet, she knew it was no small thing for Lan Xichen to have survived Nie Huaisang’s rage relatively unscathed. He hadn’t exactly been as careful with other people’s lives during that period. Others had died or been wounded, yet Lan Xichen had come out unscathed and with his reputation preserved because he'd been the one to ultimately kill the great villain.

But none of that was her problem. She couldn’t solve the mess that laid between these two grown men, not when they’d allowed it to linger for nearly two decades.

“Zewu-Jun, thank you for taking the time to talk to me right now,” Nie Fuyun said. “I’m less angry now that I spoke about all of this.”

“Just like your father and uncle,” Lan Xichen sighed, wistful. “I am happy if I was of use. Talking to you reminded me of… better days.”

Nie Fuyun stared at him. How frequent had Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue been, exactly, that Lan Xichen could feel nostalgia over arguments? When the elders spoke about Nie Mingjue, he became almost inhumanly virtuous, so perfect that the younger disciples sometimes wondered if he’d really existed. As for Nie Huaisang… he was silly and dramatic, but also the type of person who thoroughly avoided conflicts.

“Were Nie zongzhu and his brother really so bad?” Nie Fuyun asked, too shocked to restrain her curiosity.

“That bad and worse,” Lan Xichen assured her. “But don’t go thinking it was always awful between them. Some people only remember their arguments, but I also remember the love they shared. I can tell you about Da-ge someday, if you wish. I hope to be able to give you a less biased idea of him than the Nie elders.”

“Would you tell me about… about Nie zongzhu, too?”

Lan Xichen shot her a surprised look. After some hesitation, he shook his head.

“It is not my place to talk about Nie Huaisang. I don’t think he would like that. Not when I’m not even allowed to talk to him, much as I wish to do so.”

For a brief moment his self control cracked, and true anguish showed on his face. In the blink of an eye Lan Xichen’s expression returned to a polite mask, but it was too late. In spite of herself, Nie Fuyun was starting to truly pity him. And if he was so sad about this, maybe there had been a misunderstanding after all, like Lan Sizhui and Ouyang Zizhen had suggested. Earlier, she’d been certain that Nie Huaisang had been wronged, but it really was odd for Lan Xichen to have purposefully hurt him so much if he cared that deeply.

“Considering his personality,” Nie Fuyun carefully said, “do you really think that waiting for him to take the first step will work for you? You’ve said it’s not something he normally does…”

“You’re probably right,” Lan Xichen admitted. “But forcing the issue would be just as bad. When he doesn't want to do something, Nie zongzhu can become… creatively avoidant.”

Nie Fuyun grimaced, knowing this too well. Nobody could avoid paperwork like Nie Huaisang, and he was never around when annoying visitors came to the Unclean Realm.

“But then… Isn't there also a chance he won't avoid the conversation?” she asked. “If you talk to him and he complains but doesn't leave, it'll mean he also wanted to talk, won't it? It's not really my place to say that, but… I think you should try.”

“Knowing Nie Huaisang as I do…”

“With all due respect,” Nie Fuyun cut him, “do you really know him as well as you think?”

Lan Xichen stared at her for a moment, with the startled expression of a man unused to interruptions. But the surprise receded, and he smiled again.

“Ah, for this too you are like Mingjue,” he remarked. “Very direct. Too direct, some might say, but I always counted it as a quality.”

Nie Fuyun frowned. It was natural for Lan Xichen to compare her to who he thought was her father, but it suddenly irritated her.

Would Nie Huaisang have recognised her already, had she been more like him instead of his brother? Lan Xichen could call Nie Mingjue's frankness a quality all he liked, Nie Fuyun had heard enough gossip to know it was her uncle's determination to speak his mind that had brought him deadly enemies. If she was so much like him, Nie Huaisang may have thought her unqualified to lead the sect after him, since she might also make powerful enemies. If she’d been quieter, if she’d been meek like other girls…

“Perhaps you are right about Nie zongzhu,” Lan Xichen mused, unaware of her inner turmoil. “In the past, I gave up too easily when he was angry at me. But certain conversations must be had.”

He paused, and laughed sadly.

“I came here to comfort and advise you, but I fear instead you were the one telling me what to do,” he remarked.

“You also gave me things to think about,” Nie Fuyun replied. “Even if I still think he acted wrong, I no longer want to stay angry at Nie zongzhu. After all, he's my only family.”

And it would remain that way, she suspected. None of her possible fathers awakened any particular sense of kinship in her, so she might never find out who sired her. She didn't mind that as much now. Wasn't it already a lot to have forced Nie Huaisang to admit she was his child? And who knew, living apart might make some things easier. Maybe next time they met, Nie Huaisang would find it easier to talk, while with enough time to accept what she knew, Nie Fuyun might not get angry as easily.

The way everything had happened wasn’t ideal, but in the end it might all work out.

#mo dao zu shi #mdzs #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mamma mia au #xisang #finally there's some xisanging happening #although mostly it's in the last two chapter #jau writes

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aspiringwarriorlibrarian · 2 years ago

Note

this ask i’m about to send gets into fairly personal territory regarding ruby’s suicide attempt, so just delete this right now if it’s something you’d rather not have to deal with from a stranger (it okay, it’s been a long while and i’m doing pretty good in the present 👍)

something that’s frustrating me a little more than i’d like is the amount of people bringing up yang’s abandonment issues and how that might come into play. on one hand, yes, that is something that i thought about and would be interesting to see in the future, but as of the more immediate situation…

it brings up this old memory about me asking my own sister what she thinks about suicide, and her replying that she thinks it’s selfish. i love my sister, and i know she was well-intentioned, but it hadn’t helped at the time and there’s a reason why i go to my brother first instead.

the thing about suicide is that it can be selfish, but when a person is in that kind of pain they just want it to stop hurting, and even think it’s better for everyone else that way. on top of that, this response has the side effect of making the pain of the person affected, their own struggles, about other people instead - ‘you should think about how others would feel, if you did it’. it doesn’t stop a person from feeling depressed or suicidal, it just makes them feel invalidated. it makes them feel like their feelings don’t matter in the long run. and when they feel they don’t matter, well… yeah.

this is something that ruby has been struggling with all this while. she’s hurting, and she feels (particularly after that episode) that she’ll only make things worse if she sticks around.

ultimately, fans should be allowed to focus on the characters they connect to more, so they shouldn’t stop contemplating just because people (me, in this specific instance) is getting butthurt about it. i just, personally. keep seeing multiple people hoping for the story to focus on yang’s feelings about being abandoned in the next few episodes and. something about that just frustrates me, a little, because to me ruby’s pain has been building up for a while now, and the narrative should get to focus on how she hurts, without the idea of how that affects others from interrupting the narrative. because she’s always been keeping her pain quiet for the benefit of others, and now she can’t do it anymore.

given how rwby9 has thus far been making good development on ruby as a character, i doubt they’ll cut away from the focus on it now. i’m trusting crwby on this, at least. i’m just a bit miffed at seeing people want to shift the focus onto how it affects yang right away. it’s not a bad idea, but right now isn’t the time; ruby is hurt in a way that’s beyond what wby had all expected and she deserves to have the time to let herself feel. let the spotlight sit on her woes, for the moment. that’s what i hope for, at least.

Yeah I'm thinking that Yang's abandonment issues and how she was hurt by this are going way in the back seat and probably won't be addressed this volume. We've got to get Ruby back on her feet and the rest of them will be focused on rescuing her, and any fallout from watching her die will not be addressed until she's out of the Ever After.

And yeah, when you're in that much pain your brain will do anything to make it worse. My mom once had a friend's son commit suicide and she tearfully asked me "Please don't do that to me", and my brain interpreted that as "Don't kill yourself because it would make me unhappy.". But outright saying that someone's selfish for having suicidal thoughts is just unbearably careless and I'm sorry you had to go through that.

#rwby spoilers #rwby analysis #rwby ruby rose #suicide tw

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neufhistoires · 2 years ago

Text

Loveless Marriage (FrUK) Chapter 8

Loveless Marriage

Chapter 8

Word count: 4,626

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What a nightmare.

“Oh, come on. I wasn’t expecting you to be the one who has a problem with this… No, shouldn’t you be all ‘I don’t care if I’m marrying you, as long as I get to choose the decorations’ – which I said you could choose, if you don’t recall.”

In the dressing room at a tuxedo shop, Arthur was somehow the one who was trying to convince Francis to go through with the ceremony.

It wasn’t that Arthur wanted to go through with it either, but it was the last thing that their parents had requested of them, wasn’t it? It was something that was sure to help both of their family’s companies, so although the Englishman wasn’t a fan of it, he simply wanted to make it short and sweet, and most importantly, get it over with. Arthur had no idea why Francis was being so difficult…

Francis seemed to be in concerningly low spirits ever since he heard the news about the wedding ceremony, and it was only gradually getting worse. From his point of view, he had already decided that he liked Arthur. He struggled to directly call it love, but… what else could it have been? Regardless, to have a sham wedding with the person he was interested in was more painful than he could’ve imagined.

Since Francis wouldn’t have minded marrying Arthur one day, that was the true root cause of why he didn’t want to follow through with the wedding– Arthur wasn’t interested in him, he didn’t like him. For Arthur, it would’ve just been playing wedding for a day, but for Francis, he was drowning in thoughts of how his love wasn’t requited.

The solution to the problem seemed too simple– he could always tell Arthur how he felt. Then the Englishman would be more understanding of his melancholy, even if he didn’t reciprocate it (how could he?) and that in itself would feel like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. However, no matter how many feelings he had for the other man, Francis still couldn’t convince himself to put his pride on the line like that. He couldn’t take being rejected.

“Why don’t you just choose the decorations? I don’t care,” Francis mumbled, not even looking over at the other man as he continued to absentmindedly adjust his tie. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts.

“What? Did I pass that cold I had onto you?” Arthur questioned, walking over to the other man and placing the back of his hand on his forehead.

Francis’s temperature felt normal, so he had no idea why he was acting so strange. Was it that the thought of marrying Arthur publicly revolted him to the extent that he was in a state of shock?

Instead of replying to that, Francis let out an exhausted sigh and put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, lightly pushing him in the direction of the door.

“Let’s go show them these ones,” Francis said, referring to the tuxedos they had tried on. Their parents were waiting outside the fitting room.

“Wait..! Francis, are you really alright?” Arthur asked, turning to face the other man again as he placed his hand on the doorknob.

“I’m fine,” Francis replied coldly, gesturing towards the door again.

“Liar,” Arthur muttered before he opened the door and walked out in front of their parents, who immediately fawned over the suits they had chosen.

Arthur didn’t bother faking a smile, seeing as both of their parents were well aware of the fact that he didn’t want to follow through with it. Francis, however, forced what could only be described as a sad smile and continued to seem detached from everyone around him, like he was in his own world.

They listened to comments about how handsome they both looked as their parents walked up to them and even shed a few tears, which was strange seeing as it wasn’t a real marriage…

The reason their parents had been so insistent on them having an actual wedding ceremony was because people within their social circles started to speculate why they hadn’t heard anything about Francis and Arthur’s supposed relationship, and why they hadn’t seen the two together since the relationship was announced. Basically, the wedding ceremony was just a publicity stunt to try and convince people that their marriage was more than just a publicity stunt to bring attention to both of their companies. There was no reason to cry over such a thing.

After they chose their tuxedos, which Francis suspiciously had no opinion on whatsoever, they continued their wedding planning, which was somewhat rushed due to the limited amount of time Francis’s parents would be in England. Actually, they only had about a week to put the whole thing together. Fortunately, Arthur’s parents were willing to pay for most of it, which included a wedding planner who took care of making suitable invitations, inviting guests, and the decorations. The only thing they really had to focus on were making decisions for things like what food would be served and what venue it would be at.

Making decisions had turned into both a hassle and something that was much easier than usual. Francis and Arthur tended to have opposing views on what was aesthetically pleasing and what wasn’t, but even though Arthur had agreed to give Francis almost complete control over the decorations and the food, Francis kept giving dismissive, neutral responses to everything.

“Look, I understand that this whole thing doesn’t mean anything to you, and don’t get me wrong, I don’t care about it either– but just pick something..!” Arthur whisper-yelled as he leaned into Francis’s ear.

They were seated across from a professional baker, who was showing them her wedding cake design and flavor choices. There were hundreds of things to choose from, like how many tiers the cake had, the colors for the inside, the colors for the outside, what kind of decorations went on the sides and the tops, and most importantly what flavor the cake itself was. But each time the baker showed them a design or let them sample a flavor, Francis immediately said something along the lines of “that one is fine,” or, “I trust your judgment.”

“At least pretend like you care..!” Arthur leaned in and whispered again before smiling awkwardly at the woman seated across from them.

“It seems that I’m struggling to make a choice because they all sound so délicieux…” Francis started, both surprising and relieving Arthur when he finally started to say something.

But then, Francis suddenly was halfway across the table, grabbing the woman’s hand. The woman’s cheeks flushed, and Arthur looked like he was going to lose it.

“Surely it’s because they were made by someone so divine, so–”

Arthur stood up and grabbed Francis’s arm, causing Francis to look over at him and release the woman’s hand with a sigh before he casually sat back down as if nothing had happened.

“Have you forgotten why we’re here?” Arthur asked, his eye twitching.

“Non. Let’s go with the strawberry cake filling and design option C,” Francis replied, his tone suddenly cold as he stood up to leave. “And then I suppose we’ve finished this part, so let’s get going,” He added, his gaze not meeting Arthur’s again as he started to leave the room.

“I’m so sorry about that– I think all this wedding planning has him stressed,” Arthur apologized to the woman awkwardly before he ran after Francis.

“What were you thinking, flirting with a woman when we’re supposed to be convincing people that you and I are getting married?!” Arthur yelled once they got out of the store. There was still enough space between them and their parents who had been socializing in the parking lot, so they couldn’t hear their conversation.

“I guess I’m tired of lying,” Francis replied, his tone still cold despite the sad look in his eyes when they met Arthur’s.

“Well, just hold that feeling in for a few more days and we’ll be done with all of this,” Arthur replied with a huff as they eventually rejoined their parents.

If only it were that easy.

The next part was something Francis had forgotten about, and probably what would hurt him the most– they hadn’t gotten wedding rings yet.

Rings were supposed to represent unity, a sacred bond between two people who loved each other more than anything and promised to do so until death, and yet… in this case, it had no meaning. They were simply…

“They’re just rings. I don’t care which one I get. I’ll just wait here in the car,” Francis said, coming across as harsh and cold despite the anguish he was feeling.

Francis’s mother interjected, explaining that he should choose a ring because they thought he would be more opinionated to the point that they even put money back to help pay for one.

Francis felt like his stomach was twisting into a knot and it was only a matter of time until the ever-building pressure became unbearable. He couldn’t go in there and choose a ring.

“I trust that you’ll be able to choose something I like then,” Francis muttered, making no attempt to get out of the vehicle.

Their parents ended up heading into the store ahead of them, saying something about how the two of them seemed to be getting along better, so maybe Arthur could convince Francis to put more effort into choosing a ring.

“Francis– why are you being this way? I know it seems meaningless, but think of it this way– you can go in there and choose the most expensive, fancy ring if you’d like, and you don’t even have to associate it with me..!” Arthur urged, still confused as to why he was begging Francis of all people to have input on what he wanted.

“If it’s meaningless, then go choose one for me,” Francis muttered, looking out the window as he attempted to shoo the other man away from him.

However, then Francis started to ponder that idea more. He remembered when Arthur gave him the room with the best view at his parents house, and of course, how surprisingly well he had decorated it for him. Then there was the time Arthur bought wine and bread for Francis, which once again was surprisingly to his taste.

“I’m sure you’ll choose something that I like. Besides, isn’t that what married people usually do anyway? One person surprises the other with a ring, right? So it’s not really that strange if I don’t come in,” Francis reasoned, secretly pondering whether it would break his heart more or less to have a ring that Arthur had chosen.

“Oh… Well, I suppose that’s true,” Arthur agreed, finally opening the door to get out of the car. “If you really don’t mind, then I’ll do my best to pick out something that you’ll like…” Arthur murmured, his cheeks dusting pink as he closed the car door and went inside the store.

Once the rings were bought, everything for the wedding ceremony had officially been taken care of. The venue that their parents had chosen was a few hours away from where they lived, so they were all staying at a hotel. The only thing that was unfortunate, which they both didn’t dare acknowledge to each other, and especially not to their parents, was that they were staying in separate rooms.

Each night, the two of them awkwardly avoided each other before they left to go to bed, suddenly becoming aware of how strange it was that they essentially cuddled together every night despite their supposed hatred for one another. Fortunately, although for different reasons, they both would’ve died of embarrassment if their parents found out that they had been sleeping in the same bed together, so they both accepted restless nights and didn’t mention their sleepless nights to the other. That was, until the day of the wedding ceremony…

In the morning, in the hotel hallway, Francis and Arthur bumped into each other. They both seemed terribly exhausted with dark circles underneath their eyes as if they hadn’t slept in years.

“Francis, what’s wrong with you? Haven’t you had time for your beauty sleep?” Arthur teased, letting out a laugh.

Francis scowled and replied, “Look who’s talking..! You have dark circles under your eyes, too!” He pointed his finger at the Englishman accusingly.

Arthur wanted to object, but he couldn’t. They were both well aware of why they looked that way, but it was too embarrassing to talk about it…

“Are you ready for today..?” Arthur asked quietly, seeing as they were in the hallway where other people might’ve heard their conversation.

“Non,” Francis replied softly, his demeanor changing when he thought about the ceremony again.

“I never would’ve guessed that you would be the one who’s more bothered by this whole thing,” Arthur commented, saying his thoughts out loud.

“Well… I am…” Francis replied hesitantly before he impulsively pulled on the other man’s arm and leaned close to his ear. “Why don’t we just leave and call this whole thing off? We can go do something else today– something that’s not stressful, and we can do this marriage thing some other time,” Francis urged.

“No,” Arthur said firmly, pulling away from the Frenchman. “Our parents put a lot of time and effort into making this whole thing seem legit. I know that you’re upset about it, but I don’t want to go through with it anymore than you do, so let’s just fake some smiles and get it over with..!”

Admittedly, Francis probably would’ve snuck away to the hotel bar and ditched the ceremony if he didn’t think Arthur would still show up and then be embarrassed when the Frenchman didn’t come…

When Francis didn’t reply, Arthur followed up with a “you better show up,” and walked away.

At that moment, Francis realized he couldn’t avoid the ceremony without jeopardizing his relationship with Arthur any more than he already had, so he decided that he had to go. The twisting feeling in his stomach returned and he leaned his back against the hallway wall, contemplating what he should do in order to get through the rest of the night.

Well, maybe going to the hotel bar was the right thing to do… He just had to make sure he wasn’t too drunk to attend the ceremony afterwards. With that in mind, Francis headed downstairs to the bar. Meanwhile, he was unaware that his parents had been looking for him because everyone else was getting ready for the ceremony.

About a half an hour later, Francis’s parents ended up bumping into Arthur, who was already dressed in his tuxedo for the wedding. They complimented him and then asked him if he knew where Francis was because they couldn’t seem to find him. He immediately jumped to the conclusion that the Frenchman really must’ve left like he had said he wanted to, but he didn’t vocalize that. He simply replied that he would help look for him, too.

Conveniently, as soon as Arthur made his way down to the hotel lobby, he saw the sign for the bar and thought that seemed like an appropriate place to check…

What Arthur found was enough to make his blood boil– Francis passed out drunk at the counter. It wasn’t even noon yet.

Arthur wasn’t even sure if he could yell at the other man because if he was drunk enough to pass out, then he surely wouldn’t be able to understand him.

Arthur’s hands were shaking from a combination of anger and irritation as he slowly placed one of them on Francis’s shoulder. He was tempted to shove him off the stool, but part of him felt bad for the other man and couldn’t bring himself to do that. He opted for lightly shaking his shoulder.

“Francis–why would you get drunk at a time like this? Everyone is looking for you,” Arthur said, continuing to shake the Frenchman’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to… marry you,” Francis slurred, sounding more like he was asleep rather than drunk. He slowly started to lift his head up, but everything was blurry and he couldn’t seem to focus on anything, not even the man who was only inches away from him.

“I know, I know. I don’t want to marry you either,” Arthur replied as if they were just having a casual conversation.

“I’m going to throw up,” Francis muttered. He had said it so casually that Arthur almost didn’t realize what he said.

“Don’t get it on me– I’m already dressed..!”

Arthur moved behind Francis to hold his hair back (and avoid getting puked on), and then the Frenchman puked up what had to be four bottles of wine onto the counter. The bartender didn’t look too happy…

“How did you manage to drink that much?! I just saw you a half an hour ago!” Arthur yelled in disbelief.

“Hm..? I don’t know, but… it’s all gone now,” Francis muttered, looking utterly exhausted.

“Yes, I know,” Arthur replied sarcastically.

Arthur ended up having to apologize to the bartender and pay him extra, too. It wasn’t that he had to, but it was sort of embarrassing to just walk away with someone after they puked all over the counter…

“I keep having to apologize to everyone because of you,” Arthur muttered, trying to get through the lobby while practically dragging Francis because he was still so dizzy and couldn’t see very well. “I hope you’re proud of yourself,” Arthur continued to scold Francis like an angry parent when he didn’t respond to him right away.

“Well… I do feel a lot better… now that I’m drunk…” Francis slurred, laughing some when he said it.

“Oh, well good. I know I’ll look forward to the rest of the night, too, if I have to walk down the aisle with you like this..!” Arthur replied sarcastically as he pressed the button for the elevator. Thank God for elevators.

Arthur eventually got Francis to his room and decided that he would be the one who helped the other man get ready. After all, he had already gotten the drunken mess through the lobby and upstairs, so why stop there? He simply messaged his parents that he had found him and he was fine, so he would help him get ready from there. They were once again praised for “getting along so much better than they had before,” but was that really true..?

As soon as Francis sat down on his bed, he immediately lay down.

“What are you doing?! We have to be at the venue in an hour!” Arthur exclaimed, trying to pull the other man back into a sitting position.

“Arthur… I’m so tired. Just let me sleep for a little bit,” Francis whined, lying back down and covering his face with a pillow.

“No! You have to get dressed now,” Arthur insisted, taking the pillow from him and throwing it across the room.

“Fine,” Francis said with a groan as he sat back upright. “Help me?”

Arthur’s eye twitched as he muttered a sarcastic, “oh, yes, of course.” Eventually, Arthur got Francis into his tuxedo. Although, there were multiple times that he really struggled because the Frenchman refused to stand up, or he tried to help by buttoning things himself, but he was too drunk to see that he had buttoned them unevenly. It was truly a nightmare, but they got through it.

Arthur’s cheeks flushed when he saw Francis’s final look. He was secretly a bit jealous that the Frenchman still looked so good even after being passed drunk and throwing up four bottles of wine less than an hour ago…

“We need to get going then,” Arthur urged. “I’ll even make sure to stay away from you for a few days after this since it was so painful for you,” He joked, pulling Francis out of the room with him and locking the door behind them.

Francis let out a small laugh at his joke, but it was more of a sad laugh than a genuine one. How could they misunderstand each other so much that Arthur really thought the reason Francis was upset was because he couldn’t stand him?

The wedding would start soon, so Francis, Arthur, and their parents immediately headed to the venue. Francis really didn’t regret getting drunk before it either because had almost no butterflies in his stomach. He might’ve even been willing to give a speech or something, he had numbed himself so much.

Arthur, on the other hand, did feel his nerves go through the roof once they set foot in the building.

“I guess I can do this now,” Arthur whispered to Francis with a nervous laugh as he linked his arm with the Frenchman’s.

Francis felt warm when Arthur held onto his arm like that, feeling some comfort in it, too. The wedding planner had suggested that they both walked down the aisle together, so what had started as the Englishman clinging to the Frenchman due to anxiety led to the door being opened and them walking down the aisle that way.

It was terribly awkward.

Francis was too drunk to notice how awkward it was, but Arthur was repeating over and over again in his head that he hoped it didn’t look as awkward as he thought it was… Fortunately, Francis was still walking rather slowly due to how much he had drunk before the ceremony, which inadvertently slowed Arthur down, too, so it stopped them from rushing down the aisle to get it over with.

“Maybe I should’ve been like you and gotten drunk… I can’t do this..!” Arthur whispered into Francis’s ear as they continued down the aisle.

“You can’t say that now..! I was listening to you and trying to get this over with!” Francis whispered back, the two of them forcing smiles towards everyone around them as they whisper-fought down the aisle.

Upon reaching the altar, Francis’s nerves finally kicked in because the music stopped and it became uncomfortably silent. It didn’t help that Arthur was staring into his soul because he was too uncomfortable to look anywhere else.

The priest started the ceremony and Francis and Arthur both essentially zoned out, hoping to distract themselves until they had to say something. Eventually though, the priest was staring at them expectantly and they both weren’t sure why, so he had to repeat himself, asking if they had any vows.

“Oh, non. We, uh, are going to do those in private later,” Francis said awkwardly, glancing around to read the room.

The guests were essentially just a few family members and mostly people from companies that their parents had collaborated with.

“Oh okay. We’ll proceed with the ring exchange then,” the priest replied.

Francis pulled the ring that he had been given out of his pocket, feeling a bit guilty that he hadn’t even looked at it yet, even though Arthur had picked his ring out for him.

“Arthur, I…”

Francis looked over at the priest hesitantly and he gestured for him to take his hand. Letting out a heavy sigh, his nerves finally showing, Francis reached out and gently took Arthur’s hand in his own.

“I give you this ring as a symbol… of my everlasting… love for you,” Francis said, his voice so quiet that it became a whisper towards the end as he placed the ring on Arhur’s finger.

Francis couldn’t help but smile endearingly at the man in front of him when he realized how much his hands were shaking. Fumbling around with the ring, Arthur pulled it out of his pocket and that was when Francis saw it for the first time.

“I give you this ring… as a symbol of my everlasting love for you,” Arthur said hesitantly, his cheeks so hot he wondered how he didn’t implode then and there. He was so embarrassed. If he was going to confess his love to someone, surely it wouldn’t be in a room full of people like that…

Then Arthur realized that due to his embarrassment, he hadn’t placed the ring on Francis’s finger yet.

“Sorry,” Arthur muttered out nervously as he put the ring on the other man’s finger.

“It’s okay,” Francis whispered, instinctively trying to reassure the Englishman despite the circumstances.

Francis glanced down at the ring on his hand and he felt like someone had a hold of his heart, clenching it with all their might. The ring was beautiful. At that moment, he wasn’t sure if it was that the ring would’ve been his first choice out of any ring he had ever laid eyes on, or if it only felt that way because the man he loved had picked it out just for him.

“Francis?” Arthur called out gently, pulling the Frenchman out of his thoughts. Francis was crying, but he hadn’t even noticed it.

“Oh,” Francis said, letting out a small laugh as he brought a hand up to wipe his eyes.

Arthur would’ve been more concerned, but he thought that it must’ve just been Francis and his incredible acting skills, the same ones that could charm anyone. He was kind of relieved, too, because he had been worried that more people might suspect the whole thing was a sham…

Then, before they knew it, they were officially announced husband and husband and asked to kiss.

Francis didn’t exactly want to kiss Arthur for this fake display of affection that was only put on for the sake of other people, but… it wasn’t like they hadn’t already shared a drunken kiss together that night Arthur went loose on the wine, so…

Arthur instinctively backed up when the priest said they could kiss, which caused some confused glances among the guests, but Francis decided he would just go for it and pulled Arthur into a quick kiss to appease everyone. He wasn’t too sure if it worked though, seeing as the Englishman went as stiff as a board when it happened.

The reception wasn’t too long and felt more like a business party than anything (because that was essentially what it was). Francis spent most of his time walking around with his parents and Arthur did the same with his parents. It was like they weren’t even together.

Francis would glance across the room longingly at Arthur every once and awhile, but not once did he catch him looking back at him. Little did he know that they were always looking at the opposite time…

“Francis– I didn’t get to commend you on your great acting skills yet,” Arthur commented, finally talking to Francis once they were cleaning up after the reception.

“What are you talking about?” Francis asked, exhaustion evident in his tone.

“The crying during the ceremony! I think people really bought it!” Arthur said, patting Francis on the back. He had clearly had a drink or two…

“Oh, right,” Francis replied, looking a bit annoyed.

Before Francis could lose it on the other man and say something he regretted, their parents walked over to them.

“Thank you for agreeing to have the ceremony tonight. We think people really believed that you two are in love,” Arthur’s mom mused.

“Yes, yes. So, in order to thank you two for going through all of this for our company– well, both of our companies– we have a little reward for you,” Arthur’s dad added, handing Francis an envelope (because he was the more sober one at that point).

“Oh, merci..?” Francis replied hesitantly as he opened the envelope, Arthur leaning over his shoulder to see what it was.

“Two tickets to Seychelles?”

“Yes, for your honeymoon!”

#hetalia #fruk #aph france #hws france #aph england #hws england #aph fruk #hetalia fruk #hetalia angst #hws fruk #hetalia fluff #hetalia fanfiction #francis bonnefoy #arthur kirkland #read on ao3 #ao3 update #ao3 writer #ao3fic

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x0401x · 10 months ago

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I think I've said this before, but I always reply to asks. No matter how long it takes. In this case, it took me a year. I can barely believe it. The way that grad school and living in Tokyo completely sucked away my free time is surreal. To be honest, I was expecting this, but I was hoping I'd be able to get back on track sooner. Words can't possibly express how sorry I am for the truly ridiculous delay.

Okay, now without further ado...

So, episode 11. By this point, it’s clear that the anime is trying to convince us that Eisuke is single-handedly guiding Tsujimine to the top. This unintentionally disregards the other members of the team and relegates them as nothing more than his less important supporters. That’s the same kind of narrative suicide that season 1 committed, except with Seiya instead. In S1, Seiya is the only character with a personality, basically because his canon personality is butchered and he’s turned into an amalgamation of other characters’ good traits, plus some weird yandere shit that the screenplay pushed onto him. The narrative makes him a participant of just about everything that happens, while dimming down everyone else, even the very protagonist of the story. It’s clear that KyoAni (read that as director Yamamura) couldn’t handle giving the spotlight to one character at a time and making them as rich and colorful as the original work, so they decided to invest all of the good stuff into just one character and make the fandom obsess with him. Which failed miserably, but we all already know how that went.

In the case of S2, this pattern is a little worse, even. The other boys of Tsujimine are barely there, and whenever they’re there, it’s to make Eisuke’s character shine through, never their own. And when it comes to team performance, almost like the team consists of just Eisuke, as if they’re part of the team only because there aren’t five of him. He’s basically a genius who does everything - he’s an individual archer, a team competitor, the team leader, the club counselor in place of their teacher who knows fuck-all about kyudo, and a coach, since their team has none. And he excels at all of that, which is not only unrealistic but also contradictory. It’s unrealistic because, like all Zen types of martial arts, kyudo takes experience and experience inevitably requires time. There’s no way a high school kid would be on the same level of knowledge and skill as certified practitioners and be able to look after four people while simultaneously doing his own practice. This is literally unheard of in the history of kyudo. And it’s contradictory because it was established in earlier episodes that Eisuke was taking advice from his uncle for coaching Tsujimine, so how come the story just forgot about this and started branding Eisuke as the one and only patron saint of his team?

In the book, Eisuke manages the team coaching by filming practice, showing it to Shigeru and getting precise advice every day, which he follows by heart. The team coach is actually Shigeru, not him. He’s also not the team counselor, and although he’s the most proactive member, the thing about Tsujimine is that they’re not a conventional team. All the boys have very outstanding personalities - one could even call them self-centered -, to an extent where it doesn’t seem like there’s an actual leader in the team. Everyone is just doing their business and none of them are particularly close to each other, but when it comes to kyudo, they all trust one another and nobody tries to meddle with each other’s way of doing things. Against what appearances might suggest, harmony comes naturally to them. This is something very unique of Tsujimine and it’s sad to see this dynamics ruined.

Other than that, this is one more example of the anime treating kyudo like a sport. Everyone keeps fawning over Eisuke, even people from other teams, and telling him that he should be proud of himself for his achievements. I could argue about how unnatural it feels to see teenagers behaving like that all the fucking time, but I don’t think I have to. And it’s all the more ridiculous when it comes to anything Zen-related. Being proud isn’t the point. Achievements aren’t the point. There’s no point but enlightenment. KyoAni seemed to be making an extra effort to show respect towards kyudo this time around in the first episodes, so I really wish they could’ve nailed this, but it’s hard to take the story seriously when it fails to understand the most basic thing about its core theme. So many things in this anime are such a blatant “don’t worry about it” that I have lost count, especially about the fundamental elements of kyudo.

Most important, though, is that this “Eisuke is God” thing is a disservice to Minato as a character. And I’m not even talking about the fact that Eisuke, the character who was supposed to be the “bad guy” of this arc, is getting more background story and emotional investment from the narrative than the protagonist himself. I mean the fact that he’s being given a role that was supposed to belong to Minato in the near future. Yes, I’m talking about his career plan to become a Shinto priest and a kyudo coach. It was set up from the very beginning in the novel. Throughout the whole story, we get glimpses of him already being on the path for that by being the kind of person who inspires others to shine their own colors. He gives prep talks to Ryouhei and Kaito, acknowledges Nanao’s efforts and lets Seiya indulge in his patience and forgiveness. He also gives people advice, like with Manji when he was about to get target panic. A lot of people seemed to interpret this as Minato being savage, but it was a candid warning. In volume 3, though, we get to see Minato actually do something very close to coaching. The way he encourages Hikaru in the most non-obvious, roundabout and abstract manner possible is exactly how kyudo coaching should be. He never tells Hikaru to do anything, just says things that might sound vague, but actually mean to stir Hikaru’s spirit. The pacing of this scene is kind of a mess and its contents might be confusing for some (as Zen always is, to be fair), but what Minato does in it is honestly beautiful. He doesn’t even seem to realize what he’s doing; he just does it (very Zen of him, as usual) and it hits home. It’s a glaring sign from the author that he’s a natural at this (again, can’t get more Zen than that).

All of this careful build-up is wasted in the anime, given that Minato’s “natural talent for realizing people’s needs and spilling pearls of wisdom onto them” is now Eisuke’s in the show. I might sound harsh here but I gotta spill the beans on this particular load of bullshit: the anime lowkey hates its own protagonist. The one thing I thought KyoAni could’ve learned from last time was to stop giving other characters’ roles and personalities to whoever the director decided to pick as fandom darling for the season, but I guess this was too much to ask once again. Still, as you guys know, my motto for S2 is “disappointed but not surprised”. I do realize everything that’s wrong with it and don’t like it, yet I maintain what I’ve been saying since the beginning: I’m taking what I can get. It’s a miracle that a sequel even exists, anyway.

More bullshit ensues as Eisuke is confronted by Seiya by the toilet. It’s kind of amusing to see the anime finally try to portray Seiya as his own person in this season, only to do a full backtrack and put him again in the one-dimensional condition of “caring about nothing but Minato”. It’s also kind of weird to see Eisuke going through the trouble of attempting to pick a fight, especially when it concerns Seiya, whom he has no reason to hold contempt for. He resents Minato and Shuu because Saionji took them in as disciples when he (she, in the anime’s case) wouldn’t take him. What’s his reason to be a prick to Seiya, even when unprompted? It’s never explained or implied. The scene itself apparently has no reason to be there other than to imply that Eisuke attacks people because he’s putting up a front, as shown from the toilet mirrors and the composition of the shots. In putting up a front, he’s keeping himself from moving forward, which thankfully aligns with canon.

Then the dialogue shoots itself on the foot by suggesting that Seiya is moving forward because he sticks to his weird obsession with being Minato’s guardian.

I could talk about how obsession is a negative point for anyone who practices any Zen martial art and that the anime is once again treating kyudo like a sport here, but I’d just be repeating myself. What annoys me here is that the show continues to miss the point about Seiya. Sure, he’s a caretaker by nature and he worries about Minato more than anyone else, not just because Minato is his best friend, but also because Minato is a dumbass and a catastrophe magnet. But from the moment he and Minato have The Talk in volume 1, his attitude changes drastically. He’s a mother-hen but he’s got a life outside of Minato. He’s his own person with his own problems, like a normal person would be. By turning Seiya into a Minato-hen, the anime makes him feel unnatural and forced. Even Ichikawa Aoi’s line delivery is stiff as hell here. It sounds like fiction, and it’s not supposed to. This is a slice-of-life.

And so, after wasting half an episode with this boring repetition of information that goes absolutely nowhere, we finally move on to what matters. Or what should matter: the goddamn tournament.

It’s not a ganglion but a broken nail in the anime. The brief moment of Minato assuring that everything is fine and the one where he helps everyone regain their composure are the closest things that the anime gets to portraying him faithfully. Minato isn’t the glue that keeps everyone together because there’s no such thing in any of the teams in Tsurune, but he is very much a force of nature in it. He stirs things up and makes shit happen. I dare say he’s as much of a source of inspiration for the club as Masaki is. But it lasts for only a few minutes before Yamamura’s bias steals the spotlight again. It’s amazing how everything is about Seiya even when it’s supposed to be about the whole team. And by “amazing” I mean it makes me want to rip my hair off. In order to keep my sanity from flying off the nest, I tried to distract myself by keeping count of how many times Eisuke has said or thought the phrase “Tsujimine will win as Tsujimine”. It’s been three or four times, just in this episode.

Speaking of Tsujimine, I’m losing my mind at how the way it’s depicted far surpasses the way Kazemai is, from an artistic standpoint. The way the flashbacks are perfectly timed, the watercolor explosion, the fact that Shigeru is watching it from the hospital in real time… it’s such a stark contrast to the bad water CGI from the Kazemai side. Everything connects just perfectly. The show wants you to cheer for them and not Kazemai. I maintain my point from waaay back ago, but KyoAni (again, read that as director Yamamura) has next to no interest in Minato. It doesn’t dive into him, doesn’t explore him beyond surface level and is not invested in making him captivate the viewers. By extension, the same happens with Kazemai. The creators clearly find it to be a boring club, completely blind to the fact that they’re the ones that made it boring.

Anyway, this is my take on episode 11. Now here’s a bonus: a review of the movie.

Being back home for the summer means I finally, at long freaking last, got to watch “Hajimari no Issha”, since it was not on Netflix or Chrunchyroll. I wrote down my thoughts about it as soon as I watched it, which was about half a year ago. If this isn’t a testament to how little free time I’ve had for the past year, I don’t know what would be, lol. It’s surreal how long this has been sitting untouched in my iPad notes. As compensation and apology for taking so goddamn long to post the remainder of my reviews on S2, I’m leaving this here.

First of all, I’m happy that the glow-up in the art style actually began with this movie and not really in S2. The extra scenes are clearly animated better than the recap ones. The contrast is ridiculous. It honestly had me torn between “wow, thanks for the consideration” and “so you really could’ve done better from the beginning and decided not to, huh”.

I’m also happy that it humbly offers bits of information and character development that we’d been given in the novel up to that point but were left out of S1 (well, at least the part of it that doesn’t contradict the anime, which is a lot). Minato’s mother, the time when he and Seiya were going to the same grade school as Ryouhei, young Masaki and his grandfather, etc. Many things we were supposed to have had in S1 are here.

The first parts go back and forth in time, but the initial content is new. New scenes, new dialogue, but still with a certain degree of deviance from the source material. The funny thing (it really ain’t funny at all) is that the deviations mostly don’t have a reason to be there. Hardly any of them have anything to do with the alterations made in S1. Thankfully, they’re small and not very significant, just minor bothers.

But if they’re so unimportant, then why do they bother, y’all may ask. Well… because they’re constant reminders of how much KyoAni doesn’t get this story. Or its characters. Or (yeah, it’s getting old, I know) Zen.

First one was the way Minato got into archery. So I guess anybody who read the novel has been able to tell, but the characters kind of stand on a ladder when it comes to how enlightened they are. Masaki is at the very top, of course, and right bellow him are Minato and Shuu. As the author’s bias - I mean, the one who’s closest to the Zen-Buddhist ideal of enlightenment, Masaki found his way to archery without any reason. He had contact with it even before he became aware of his surroundings; it happened naturally, as if that was just the obvious way to go about life for him (and it was, in a sense).

As the not-so-close second, Minato got into archery in the same way as Masaki: by sheer coincidence (just happened to be present at a kyudo ceremony) and influenced by a loved one (his mother). They also were inspired by the same person (Akihiro) and fell in love with archery at the very same place (Yata Shrine). The difference is that Minato decided to pursue archery consciously, unlike Masaki, who was just doing it before he even realized it, as though he’d been born already with a bow and arrow in hands. And that was that. It’s simplistic and pure and the peak of innocence. It also defines the whole story because this shared beginning, translated in the form of Akihiro’s tsurune, is basically what ignites Minato’s whole world and connects him to everything and everyone he loves. And then comes his mother and her past doing kyudo, which adds fuel to the fire but it’s not really what kindles it. Because then that’d be just ordinary and not as Zen as what the author was going for.

Second alteration that I noticed was the rubber mountain rat that Masaki gave Minato, which in the anime is a rubber ball with a mountain rat mascot printed onto it. As I’ve mentioned a thousand times before, saying that S1 was lackluster and wasteful in terms of Masaki’s teachings and his relationship with Minato is a gross understatement. I’m glad KyoAni tried to make up for that here by giving him a little more spotlight being an actual coach, not just teaching the bare minimum and fucking up. The mountain rat is given quite a bit of importance in volumes 1 and 3, as well as everything else that Minato receives from Masaki, so I guess KyoAni can no longer pretend that these things don’t matter. Except the timing wasn’t the best. In the novel, Masaki gave the mountain rat to Minato when Minato hadn’t yet joined the club, and there’s the whole subplot about Minato being haunted by the things Masaki gives him and does for him, because he’s afraid he’ll lose Masaki at some point. But the opportunity to explore it has long been missed.

Something else that is very different from the original is the way that Seiya is being portrayed as similar to Masaki. This is also a thing in the drama CDs and promotional audios for S2, for some reason. Yet in S2 this is thrown out the window and Masaki is portrayed as similar to Shigeru instead. KyoAni tries so hard not to make the right comparison it’s hysterical.

Speaking of Masaki as a character, it’s always amusing to see the many ways that KyoAni misses the mark about him every single time. It’s literally impossible to understand what they’re trying to do with him. One example of the many incoherences in their depictions of him (aside from trying to brand him as similar to two characters who are completely different from each other, with neither of them being the characters that he’s actually similar to in canon), is the scene where Ren calls him a narcissist. ‘Cause that’s totally the number one quality of a priest. I lost my mind at this one. Where do they pull this shit from? When did Masaki ever act that way, even in the anime itself? Are they just throwing words around? Make it make sense.

There’s one fleeting moment where Masaki is compared to Minato in this scene. Except it’s not because of their personalities or form, but because of the target panic. And Masaki doesn’t really appreciate that. Yeah, that’s definitely the same Masaki who decided to take on teaching because he saw himself in Minato, especially due to the target panic. Who knew exactly what to do and how to help him because of his previous experience. Who puts prayers into everything he does for Minato so that Minato will overcome it as soon as possible. That Masaki.

“Don’t know her,” says the show.

Most frustrating of all is that this happens because Ren says kyudo is overly complicated for something that’s “all about hitting or missing” and Masaki retorts with, “Yeah, but that’s what makes it interesting”, which prompts Ren to joke, “Said like a true narcissist” before Masaki elbows him. This is a nod to volume 1’s “The way of the bow is steep, but that’s what makes it interesting”, but by God, does it backfire in the worst possible way. He could’ve just said that kyudo isn’t about hitting or missing. Actually, the last thing kyudo would be about is hitting or missing. Hitting and missing don’t fucking matter. Masaki is the last character who should be saying this, considering that he’s not only the best archer of the club but also that the literal reason why he and his grandfather started fighting was that Akihiro accused him of only caring about hitting the target. This isn’t western archery. Get your own culture right, I’m begging you.

Breathe in, breathe out. I’m fine. We’re fine. This movie… isn’t fine, but S1 was by far the worst offender. Second place is S2. And none of these three are in the same ballpark. This wasn’t exactly good but it also wasn’t bad.

On the positive side, I like the care and detail that was put into this production as much as I like the care and detail put into in S2. Despite everything I just said, KyoAni is definitely paying a lot more attention and respect to the original from this movie onwards. Is it enough? Absolutely not. But it’s something.

Like the first shot of S2, for example, which is a throwback to the scene of Akihiro adjusting himself into his draw. The camera angles are identical. This is a very nice and well-thought detail not just for the sake of parallels, but because of something Tomio says in volume 3: that an archers’ form tends to resemble the one of their teacher. He comments that everyone from the team resembles Masaki a lot when they shoot, which indirectly means that they resemble Akihiro too.

I also really like that they gave Minato’s mom a little more screen time and lines. I’d almost forgotten that she was voiced by Matsutani Kaya ‘cause she barely ever talks in the other two titles. But it would’ve been for naught if she hadn’t been put in her rightful place as a big influence in Minato’s life. Especially the bicycle scene. It’s kinda obvious that this one was both a metaphor for kyudo and for life.

That’s about it. There wasn’t much going on in this one. It feels like bait to rile up the fans for S2, because it was, to be very honest.

#tsurune #kyoani #kyoto animation #tsurune tsunagari no issha #tsurune hajimari no issha #narumiya minato #takigawa masaki #takehaya seiya #fujiwara shuu #nikaidou eisuke #onogi kaito #yamanouchi ryouhei #kisaragi nanao #fuwa koushirou #fujiwara sae

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quinloki · 2 years ago

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A Light Touch

Fem Reader x Eustass Kid

CW: language, assault, violence, sexual themes and situations, implications of non-con, loss of limbs, blood. 18+ Only.

Chapter 1 - Table of Consent -

Chapter 21: Pointed

You came out of Kid's room a little groggy, but certainly hungry, and if you wanted to eat you needed proper clothes. Comfortable as the shirt was, you weren't going to meander down into the common areas wearing nothing but the Captain's clothes. It was well past breakfast time, but it wouldn't be long before people were gathering for lunch.

"Oh."

You look over in time to see Killer's mouth go slack.

Your grogginess is quickly replaced by embarrassment. There wasn't any guilt in you, but for some reason it suddenly felt like Killer had heard you. It wasn't possible, he would've been out scouting all night with the others, but the feeling struck you regardless.

"... I'm hungry." You can't think of anything else to say and the words come out awkwardly. Your expression feels awkward too. You're grateful you can't see Killer's eyes right now, because something tells you that it would only be more awkward.

You can see a few emotions switch places on what you could see of Killer's face, and finally he replies.

"I just need to talk to Kid and then I'll get lunch going. Pasta maybe, since House says carbs are a good post-cardio meal." Killer's voice is so even and matter of fact you don't realize he's teasing you until you're already in your room and half-way through changing.

You can't help the pink tinge in your cheeks and ears as you make your way downstairs. Knowing Killer knows makes seeing Killer harder than you expect, but once you got downstairs you realized your situation was worse.

The night crew had been back by dawn, which meant they were all awake now, which meant – in turn -that the dinning room was filled with people who were all ready to have lunch. Everyone looked to be in good spirits, and good condition, but since no one had woken Kid up as soon as they had gotten back, you were pretty sure you already knew what the end result was.

There was new information to be had about the scouted locations, but no one had come across Decken and been able to take care of him. For better or worse there was still more work to be done.

Emma and Hip motioned you over to sit with them, shuffling around to put you between the two of them. For the next few minutes you were introduced to other members of the crew – Boogie, Reck and Moai.

"How'd it go?" You ask, hoping to keep control of the conversation, you were sure you didn't want Hip and Emma to ask you how your night alone with Eustass went. Especially not in front of so many other people.

"Well, we narrowed things down." Hip explains. "Instead of nearly a dozen possible locations, we're down to five."

"The rest were either too perilous, too protected, or too abandoned to be being utilized by anyone." Emma chimes in. "I mean, it's possible with his money, the little sleaze ball is hiding behind said protection measures, but dodging the great pink catastrophe is easier to do as a single person. He wouldn't have been giving anyone the slip rolling around with an entire army of guards."

"Another round of scouting tonight," Mosh says as Killer comes down and starts making lunch. "And we should catch the bastard."

There were a few more minutes of scattered conversation among you and the crew, and eventually you heard Kid come into the room. Turning to look behind you, your face went instantly red, and you turned away considering the option of hiding under the table for a brief moment.

Eustass Kid had joined everyone for lunch in nothing but sweats. A couple of days ago you might've been able to appreciate it for what it was, but sweats weren't the only thing that he was 'wearing'.

Red hair and golden-brown eyes meant that Kid had pale skin. He wasn't lucky enough to tan, but he was lucky enough to have some envy-worthy clear alabaster skin. It was another one of those things about him that was conflictingly elegant when compared to his stature and general demeanor. The few patches of freckles on his shoulders only added to things.

Pale skin bruises. Bruises in such a way that you're suddenly aware that you don't have the exacting control over your prosthetic that you thought you had. Dapples of unmistakable Mouse-sized, hand-shaped bruises were obvious on his right arm.

Kid walked past the dinning room table as it went dead silent and meandered into the kitchen to get, you assumed, an entire pot of coffee. Walking by the table, however, gave all the sets of eyes that were watching him a clear view of the red scratch marks on his back. All the eyes on the marks, became all the eyes on you when Kid disappeared from view.

You had no idea what to say, but you were certain your face had never been quite so red, or quite so expressive of the phrase 'WELP'. Emma and Hip leaned forward and looked at you like a couple of cats who had just caught the early bird and its worm.

"Go scouting last night too, eh (Y/N)?" Emma asks with a grin.

"Little catch and release?" Hip muses, "Ya tagged him pretty good, those conservationist types would be proud."

"Ohmygod." You pulled the collar of your shirt up and hide your face inside your t-shirt.

"Guess Cap'n's not the only bruiser in the relationship," Emma adds before the two of them fall into fits of laughter.

"Teasing is a sign of affection from those two," Mosh says, even though his face is pink. "Don't pay 'em no mind (Y/N)."

"I know, I know," you admit, coming back out from under your shirt. "I'd ask you go easy on me, but-."

"The Captain already did. There's not a mark on you." Heat muses, sending Emma and Hip into renewed cackles as you set your head down on the table with a defeated thud.

The teasing stops as Kid comes back into the room. He sits down at the table, and when you catch his gaze, he gives you a quick wink. The only indication that he knew exactly what he was doing by coming down the way that he did.

During the meal there's more talk about the plans for that night, and everyone gets their assignments for the evening. There's a lot more to be done before another one of these raids happens, and you're surprised by the efficiency with which the crew operates. It's not that everyone does as Kid says without question – it's that by the time it's all said and done there's nothing left to question.

You're sure that meetings like this, where everyone tosses in their points and counterpoints, are the backbone behind the crew reacting to his orders in other situations. Eustass Kid, and any good leader honestly, couldn't lead such strong people as well as he did if he didn't care about them.

Even though you were well aware of his softer side, it wasn't really the same thing that held the crew together. Eustass' concern for his crew was loud, violent, and unapologetic. You're sure you fall under the same sort of category, before you ended up in your more pointed position.

It wasn't hard to see the crew as more of a family, than a gang. Granted, the kind of family that would hospitalize outsiders without much thought, but a family regardless.

A heavy metal mafia. Whose "captain" had been keeping you in, on, or near his lap for the last couple of hours since lunch. Thankfully, he had put a shirt on, not that he'd bothered to button it up, but it had made it more comfortable to sit with him. The way the crew reacted to it made you think it wasn't something they had seen him do before – no one teased you or him as they came and went from the living room where you had ended up.

"I did not expect that you'd be like this." You muse, yawning a little as you leaned into him. The combination of big and warm was easy to fall asleep against.

"Like what?" You can feel his head tilt toward you at the question.

"A snuggler."

"I'm not."

"Then what is this?"

"I woke up alone, Mouse." He says flatly.

"I... was hungry? Wait, are you saying this is punishment?"

"This is you paying a debt." He asserts.

"I was gone for a couple minutes. Killer found me in the hall. It wasn't like I went back to bed hours before hand."

"You don't want to do this?"

"What? No, I'm not complaining." You assure him, failing to stifle another yawn. "I dunno, I just expected more violence and wall-shaking music, less soft 'n' warm."

You could feel him chuckle. "You'll see some things change, you're not a guest or a client anymore, and we won't be on the lookout for flying weapons soon. It'll be easier to rattle the windows with music after that."

"Client." You scoff a little. "Client's pay for their protection, I was-."

"You paid, Mouse." He interrupts, raising your prosthetic glass hand up with his own metal arm. "Don't doubt that. You weren't a pity case or a charity job."

"... Swear to me," you turn to look at him. "That you don't feel guilty."

He leans down and steals a kiss before ruffling your hair. "I don't feel guilty."

"Good I -." A thud against the wall interrupted your words. You paled a bit and Eustass was already setting you aside.

"Oi!" Kid yells, and another thud hits the wall. Heat, Killer and Wire come from the kitchen as all four of them head outside. "Stay there Mouse."

You stayed put inside the house, since you were against a wall that wasn't mostly windows it was a better place to be than trying to dash for the basement. The four that went outside would be plenty to stop things from breaking through the wall, and aside from House who was in her room/office, the rest of the crew were out preparing for tonight.

The rain of weapons and miscellaneous items rained down for twenty minutes before it had finally stopped. You stepped outside carefully, eyes on the sky as the four power houses of the crew kept watch. The four of them looked a bit worn out, and the debris scattered around them was a testament to just how much stuff had been flung toward you.

As expected, now that the rain of destruction was done, a small flurry of paper airplanes came into view. These ones were shaped like cranes, and if not for the intent behind them, it would've been quite beautiful.

"I hate those more than the weapons." You grumble, as everyone turns to the airplanes.

Heat steps up, taking in a deep breath, and releasing a blast of fire at the paper objects. There's something therapeutic about seeing them all burn to ashes. You still hadn't read one, despite knowing there was at least one of them in Eustass' room waiting for you if you wanted it. It seemed like more a of a win for you, if you never directly heard or read Decken's words.

There's a strange calm after the flurry of weapons, and the four men look like people picking through the wreck of a neighborhood hit by a small natural disaster. They're already starting to pick up the wooden pieces that Kid won't be able to pull up on his own. You stay away from most of the destruction, you hadn't grabbed any shoes before coming outside, but being alone inside the house was uncomfortable.

You wanted to apologize. It wasn't your fault, not really, but you still felt a pang of guilt for causing so much damage to such a nice house.

A glint of light shimmers in the afternoon light, from a different angle than the first barrage, and catches your attention. A single swear passes your lips just as the katana threads itself into your torso.

For a cold, terrible moment, there's no air in the world.

Your hands move to the hilt, but you can't bring yourself to touch it as you sink to your knees. Eustass is by your side, you're sure you heard him yell out to you, but the sound had been too distant. You can feel him keeping you upright, but he's not warm like he was earlier.

"Heat, go get House. Killer, call Law." Eustass commands, steadying you and taking care to mind the sword through you so he doesn't worsen the wound. "(Y/N), stay with me."

Everything is red. Eustass is red. Your hands are red. The air feels red. The thump of your heart is red. Your words taste red.

You look up at him, your heart's already breaking at what you need to ask of him.

"Out..." You manage the word against the pain in your heart more than the pain from the sword. "You... have to get it... out." Breathing is hard, but you can manage it. Your words bubble up with a coppery taste.

"We need to wait for House." The usual authority in his voice is cracking.

"I can heal..." You put your hand on his. "I can't while it's... still in."

Eustass' eyes bore into yours. "If you pass out you won't heal."

You nod weakly. "You're right."

"House can-."

"Kid." You interrupt. "House can't... help me. You can. It's metal. The faster it's out the better I can... stay conscious."

There's a tense moment as you can see the emotions clawing at Kid's face. You choke on a breath and blood bubbles up past your lips. If you go into shock, you won't be able to heal either.

"Please."

You can feel Eustass' entire body creak like bone against concrete.

"Wire hold her steady." He commands, finally.

Wire braces you from the side as Kid steps behind you. You can feel and hear the hum of magnetism in the air as the power coils around him. The single word of focused command is the most pained sound you've heard from his lips.

"Repel."

Next Chapter

#A Light Touch #eustass x reader #one piece eustass kid #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #eustass kid x reader

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dontbelasagnax · 7 months ago

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This is nitpicky but before I reply to this, I feel it's important to distinguish between "content" and "creation".

Content is a word devoid of artistic merit, its only purpose is to be consumed. Let me explain why.

We live in a day and age of overconsumption. The availability we have to see the worst horrors happening at every inch of the globe at the scrolling of a finger over a glass screen--a seemingly endless news cycle of mankind's unrelenting cruelty--combined with awful working conditions and inadequate pay, along with an inhumanely high cost of living is a unique cocktail.

Corporations bank on your growing desensitisation and need for escapism by flooding every market with "content"- some product that can temporarily fulfill the consumer's needs.

To go further in depth, the quality of products has greatly diminished because corporations realized they can spend less time and money creating a worse product then upmark it and their customers will still buy it; in fact, customers will end up buying more because cheap products need to be replaced frequently. In terms of media, there is an oversaturation of "short form content" because it's the perfect way to keep viewership engaged as the constant barrage of new media, advertisements, and horrific news paired with piss poor living conditions has caused attention spans to noticeably shorten. The complacency of this hopeless cycle means that people are always searching for something new to temporarily soothe their unhappiness.

Most creatives on social media can tell you how soul sucking it is to try to keep up with the demands to post regularly in order to stay relevant enough that people are interested in your creations. In this economy, your art is viewed not as a valuable piece of work that will outlast you but instead a piece of content you hope is eye catching enough that someone will choose to "consume" and stare at it for two seconds, press the like button, and then forget it ever existed as they look for the next best thing.

That is the difference between "content" and "creation". And, yes, to many of us that difference matters.

Now Onto My Actual Response

I would say there's a sizeable amount of people in fandom that want to bring back The Days Of Old where fandom is just a bunch of people who get together to talk about the thing they really like instead of what fandom seems to be nowadays which is a dick measuring contest of competing with fellow fans to gain fruitless popularity peddling fanfiction and fanart.

It obviously depends on the fannish attitudes of your fandom/parts of your fandom but in my experience, people generally still just want to talk excitedly about the thing they really like with anyone and everyone but they're scared. People get intimidated by artists and writers because recent fandom culture dictates that you treat them like celebrities; you silently observe, talk at them in comments not expecting a reply, or talk about them with a trusted group of friends. On the flip side, many creatives have social anxiety and are afraid of reaching out to other people and/or just don't know how. You'll often see creatives band together and form friendships because it's easier in this culture to get past these barriers by expressing mutual admiration of fanworks, thus creating a bond.

But the thing is, I've seen it happen multiple times that someone joins a discord server and the writers and artists freak out because this person has been leaving them sweet comments for months or years and they can finally talk to them!

Directly tying into this, a common reason I've seen people give for why they don't reblog is that they don't have any followers and therefore no one would see it. The thing is, when you make a habit of reblogging, commenting, and generally interacting with your fellow fandom goers, people take notice. Your compassion and enthusiasm is appreciated and you become a person that people look forward to seeing in their notes or in the comments of their work on ao3. As an artist, a writer, and someone who makes too many (not enough) textposts on tumblr about my OTP kissing, I personally have many followers that I think fondly of. Maybe one day we'll all be friends :3 (I am unfortunately one of the creatives mentioned that doesn't know how to start talking to people 🫣)

I find as fandom has assimilated towards a capitalist mindset of consumption, there has been a larger focus on fanart and fanfiction- both in spaces that view creatives as "content creators" and spaces where creatives are seen as writers and authors but lauded similarly to celebrities or deities for gracing the common people with their creations.

This has produced a side effect wherein fanart and, primarily, fanfiction are seen as the Best Forms Of Transformative Works... which means that any other type of transformative work is thrown by the wayside.

There should be no hierarchy of fanworks - every single work is a labor of love (or spite... I see y'all throwing middle fingers to canon 😉) and should be recognized as such. Fandom is a community. It's not a transactional relationship. Everyone contributes and interacts out of shared passions and interests.

If you make podfics, gifs, photo edits, fanvids, fan binding, metas, fiber arts, jewelry, fanmixes, translate fics to another language, run/contribute to a fan wikia or compile lore and resources in other ways: I see, appreciate, and cherish all the hard, love fueled work you put into your creations.

Not to say that fanfic and digital art are over-appreciated (Since I do see that many people are allergic to pressing reblog. It's a community. We're supposed to share and communicate. Lurkers are valid but for the most part, interaction with like-minded people is what fandom is intended for.) but the pedestal they are placed on needs to be lowered. Your favorite artists and authors are real people with real lives. They piss and shit just like you. They work in retail and healthcare and are unemployed due to disability. There is nothing extraordinary about them and they are wonderful human beings all the same. No one is better than anyone else. We're all equals here on this playground.

That said, I think we need to uplift the underappreciated fanworks and creators and give them more attention so they are on equal footing with fanfic writers and fanartists. Reblog the gifsets and tell the creator you're in love with how they colored the gifs, keyboard smash in the tags when reblogging a plush doll someone crocheted of your blorbo, try listening to a podfic on your commute home instead of an audiobook and remember to leave a comment when you get home.

As a final note, I want to give a warm hug to anyone who has sat refreshing tumblr or ao3 hoping that maybe someone will tell them they did a good job. To anyone who has considered quitting their fandom endeavors because their posts or works never get as much attention and love as the rest of the artworks or fics in the fandom tags, your creations are worth making and sharing. Numbers do not equate to quality, nor can they convey how loved your creations are by a given person. Only you can bring your unique sparkle to fandom and your presence is absolutely welcome no matter how big or small, grandiose or inconsequential, important or worthless you think it is.

#i can't believe I'm on tumblr dot com talking about the effect late stage capitalism has on fandom #lasagna rambles

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