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kingofthewhatpod · 6 years

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Fanfic Friday #4

Okay, it's time for my fourth attempt to wow people with my spin on One Piece. Welcome to #FanficFriday. Because the podcast is currently mid arc, it makes sense not to consider doing a re-write of the canon arc to try and improve, so you get a 100% new story. Let us begin...

This adventure will be called "The island of old men," and if that doesn't make you raise an eyebrow, I'm not quite doing my job.

The scene: Luffy and crew have just escaped loguetown, heading towards reverse mountain... and they see an island, not on Nami's map. And let me tell you, this island has a giant golden tower rising from the center. It can be seen from quite a distance away, and it has like a crown on it. Nami, obviously, is worried about why it's not on the map Usopp fears it's a "ghost island" Sanji would say something like "What even is a ghost island?" Totally nonplussed, watching the island with a casual eye. Luffy is like "Woa-ho What is that??? Can we go? Can we? Can we?" Nami objects, but did we think that would work? No. Luffy is excited, and so is Zoro by proxy Since Luffy is the captain, they go anyways regardless of objections.

Before they reach the tower, they come across a single, largish wooden building, the four titular old men outside Guy number one: A huge guy. Sometimes i'm creative with names, some times not, he'll just be "Badger" and when I say huge, I mean he probably did like seven hundred thousand crunches a day in his youth. Guy number two: He's wearing a jacket with pockets of various sizes, each packed with unseen items. He can be "Sparrow." Guy number three: sunglasses, a vest with a cape, he's the most mobile/active of these old men, conveys his moods with movement. Name: "Rabbit"

Final guy: Taking a nap. Bigger than Sparrow and Rabbit, but not as big as Badger. Scars on his arms, and a loooooong beard because this is One Piece. The other old guys introduce him as like Haro. Of course most, if not all, of the Straw Hat's think its weird he's not named after an animal like the other three.

To set the scene Sparrow and Badger are playing a card game, Rabbit is watching and commentating- loudly (which is clearly annoying Badger), and as I said Haro is taking a nap. Now, as Luffy and them approach, they ask about the tower they saw while sailing. The old guys kind of glance at them, go back to what they're doing, and explain "Young whelps like you shouldn't even ask about the King's Tower, let alone approach it"

Usopp would be the most startled their reaction. Zoro or Sanji (why not both?) would be surprised, but Luffy would be doing that thing where he's unusually quiet and watching the scene, eyes on Haro. Usopp would try to explain “We were just asking what it was, and the island wasn't on the map-”

"The golden spire was built to honor the strong!" Rabbit would declare (again, loudly. Assume everything he does is loud). "And young'uns like you just can't climb it!"

"Best that you don't even try," Badger would grumble. "Go home and have a glass of milk"

Usopp would be about to argue about "How do you know about us", when Zoro would cut him off with a "Wait," eyeing up Badger. "Words are useless against people like this."

Sanji would be looking at the horizon, "All we have to do is climb it then, right?"

"We won't let you!" Rabbit says, stamping his foot on the ground. "Have you no respect for your elders? We forbid it!"

"So what then?" Zoro asks.

"Three days.” Sparrow would say without looking up from the game. Maybe with their free hand he holds up three fingers. If you can survive three days on the island, we'll let you try the climb"

Luffy calmly walks over to the porch area on which Haro sleeps and sits down. "Fine," is all he says. "But we will climb that tower and see what's at the top." He says this very seriously. Nami sighs and Zoro is just like, "aye captain."

Jump cut to the next morning, Zoro is with Badger in the woods. Badger gestures at the trees around them, and asks Zoro to cut down ten trees by the end of the trial period with his sword. Zoro is like "pfft, yeah, whatever." and schwing schwing schwing! with his blades. His cocky grin fades as he looks back and sees only small scratches on these thick trees. Now Badger is grinning. "The hell kind of trees are these?" Zoro asks.

"Only the sturdiest wood for our cabin, sprout," he'd mock. "Or is it too hard for you?" to Zoro's ire, of course

Sanji is with Rabbit, who is like "Let's gather some jewel mushrooms from the forest, try to keep up!" And here we see why he's called Rabbit. He's very, very fast, which would surprise Sanji doubly so due to his age. Sanji has to run after him shouting "wait!"

Sanji ends up having to scavenge on his own, and he gets a bit lost in the forest. He's certain he can do it, but then... that night he only has maybe 2 in his basket and Rabbit has three full-to-bursting baskets! Sanji is just.... shocked.

Nami and Usopp both get paired with Sparrow. They're down in the basement which has both a room full with complex, twisting pipes in an impossible tangle, and a library. He starts pulling books off the library shelf and Nami has to race to keep up, trying to catch them all. Nami, it seems, will help him decipher some weird encoded message, using historical documents to try and understand the code. Usopp has to help fix the plumbing. Not only are the pipes all twisty, not only are the instructions convoluted, but these pipes are heavy. It shows him detach a nut from around a pipe and he almost drops it on his foot because it’s unexpectedly heavy.

Luffy, who hasn't said a word yet, is sitting beside Haro, just chilling. Haro hasn't woken up yet, and Luffy isn't going to be tested, apparently. Which just makes me chuckle. Am I allowed to admit that about my own dumb story? Whatever.

Back to Zoro. It's night time. He's made a little bit more progress, but he is on his back, panting heavily. Badger is also sitting, grinning. "Still going to win?" he teases.

"Of course," Zoro says, no hint of sarcasm in his voice. No reaction from Badger. "My captain said we would climb the tower," Zoro continues. "So it's not a matter of whether I can. I simply must. But first... a nap."

Badger would kind of chuckle and head back to the mansion as Zoro closes his eyes.

Naturally, we'd also get some shots of Usopp, Nami, and Sanji hard at work that night. Nami is burning the midnight oil, a huge pile of books next to her. Usopp is studying this crazy, complex room, and Sanji is contemplating these strange mushrooms in the kitchen. I guess I didn't mention, but these mushrooms would obviously be hard to find but they'd also looks super weird close up. They'd almost glitter like jewels, but not bright enough to be seen from a distance. Because what is One Piece without some mystery/magic/unworldly elements?

Next morning, each member (minus Luffy) is hard at work. Zoro has made some progress in the night and is already wielding all three swords by the time Badger finds him

"What if the others can't do it?" Badger would ask.

"They will," Zoro would say simply.

Nami would be talking to Sparrow. "They're all idiots," she'd explain while reading these books. "Especially my captain. If I can't learn to help them out, they'll surely fail."

Usopp would have built some doodad out of spare pieces he had found, something that could slide along the pipes, or maybe marked them in some way with paint. Point is, he's starting to learn this room's layout. Sparrow is rubbing his chin as he looks on, but saying nothing

Sanji has figured out about a weird creature that eats these jewel mushrooms from studying the roots. So this time when Rabbit leaves him in the dust, he looks for one of these boars (but like, big boars with purple fur or something) and lets it lead him to the treasure trove. Of course he's started learning how to cook with them, too. But that’s not relevant to his test.

The third day, Everyone convenes back in the "plaza." The 3 old guys are unchanged. Zoro is exhausted, Nami shows sign of ink all over, Usopp has oil stains, and Sanji's usually immaculate clothes are disheveled. To sell the victory, Sanji also has a plate cooked with these mushrooms, Nami holds a parchment with the decoded message, Zoro is pulling a sled with this special wood, and Usopp stands before a fountain which has begun working once more!

There's a pause... Rabbit, Sparrow, and Badger, in unison, all look to Haro, giving a thumbs up and say "Well, I guess they did alright."

Haro finally awakes (let’s be real though, we all know he wasn’t actually asleep), rising and brushing off his knees. "Let's go kid," is all he says. He leaves, Luffy follows. (AN: at this point I realized the thread was getting really, really long on Twitter. Yes, I have more room here on Tumblr to fill out the details, but I once again am brushng up agaisnt my self-imposed deadline. For now, I’ll leave it largely unedited, hope you can forgive me, and try to do better next week).

Next up: Cave. Big bear monster, like this big beast, two or three stories tall. Haro beats it up easily, maybe even in one punch or maybe he jumps up and grabs its head and flips it on its back. He is very, very strong. Luffy would acknowledge that with a classic "You're strong old man"

"What about you?" Haro asks, looking to Luffy. Luffy puts on his straw hat with a grin. "Just watch me."

A second monster comes out of the cavern. Luffy is not at this old guy's level. Not a victory in a single punch, but he keeps standing every time he's knocked down. He wears it down & wins.

Luffy and Haro come back to the manor. The boss old man gives a nod and the Straw Hats continue inward in the island. Haro sits back down and, only after they've left does he smile a big, goofy smile. Maybe, like, 85% as goofy as Luffy. "I like him," he says.

Now, it turns out there isn't much to this tower. Long climb up, but no traps or other gatekeepers. They get to the top, and there’s a spectacular view of the island and ocean beyond. They’re all looking and admiring when their captain comes up with his idea. Luffy takes in a super deep breath, everyone else is grinning as they realize what he’s going to do, and he just yells. "I'M GUNNA BE.... THE KING OF THE PIRATES!!!" Scaring some birds in the nearby forest to show how loud he shouted.

flash back to the old men. Sparrow is rubbing his chin. "King, eh?"

"He just might do it," Haro acknowledges. "He reminds me of that other young'un who came through all those years ago."

"Roger was a good man," Badger agrees.

"Plus," Haro says, as the screen fades to black. "That kid's a 'D'" Haro adds. "Can't wait to see what he gets up to."

To be Continued flashes on the screen, on to the next adventure.

This concludes the fourth #FanficFriday. I really need to find a way to compress these. It'll only get harder as we get more characters to play with. I'm still working on this. But hey, maybe I can just post the original on Tumblr and link to it on twitter, or put it on some third site and link to it on both these accounts. But hey, be sure to let us know what you think. If you leave an insightful comment or have your own tweaks to make (be it an addition or changing something I started in my own what-if scenario), maybe I'll give you a shout out on the pod!

#KotWN #Fanfic Friday #chapter 4 #Haha! I submitted this on time for once!#Sorry for lack of creative images. It's late #One Piece

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writer-monster · 3 years

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11 reasons why cap 4 should reintroduce Bucky Barnes as the love interest, an essay

to start this off, i am not writing this essay from a shipping place nor do i believe that this would have any influence at all over the upcoming movie. i expect nothing. this is simply something that i would personally like to see. (of course no hate to anybody who thinks differently)

here are 11 reasons why i think making Bucky into Sam Wilson's love interest in Cap 4 would be a good move for Disney.

1. on the Chinese film market - and why it's an irrelevant argument against the inclusion of homosexual themes in Cap 4

the Chinese film market is something that has been blamed for a lack of diversity in Hollywood films a lot lately. many people claim that this market with a lot of buying power has been responsible for the lack of gay and black representation in particular within Hollywood films.

and we have certainly seen Hollywood treating it as such, going so far as to cut gay scenes from movies for their Chinese releases, and vastly minimising John Boyega's (a black actor's) presence in the Chinese poster of Star Wars The Force Awakens.

[image ID: on the left is an image of the American poster for Star Wars The Force Awakens, featuring John Boyega prominently on the right-hand side. And on the right is the Chinese poster for the same movie, in which John Boyega is barely visible.]

so we know at the very least that Disney believes this through their own actions and efforts to self-censor for the different markets.

but Captain America 4 is a black-led movie, don't you forget. and Disney can't minimise Sam Wilson/Anthony Mackie in the movie or the poster because it's his movie and his poster. and no amount of creativity in the editing room can change that (thank God!).

so if by their own argument the film is already going to be either banned, panned or slammed in China... then what do they have to fear from making it a gay movie too?

2. oh, the queerbaiting

queerbaiting is an unusual cultural idea. and sometimes i find myself thinking that the term is far too easily used, but then all of a sudden i will stumble upon a movie or show that is so quintessentially cruel and overt in it's... well... queerbaiting that i will start to wonder what the hell kind of a bizarre relationship all these straight people seem to have with their friends. take Troy and Abed from Community or John and Sherlock from Sherlock as the perfect examples of this. (in which my reaction to the show's creators saying the show wasn't gay was to ask so then why did you make it so gay?!)

i felt that Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes in tfatws were getting quite close to this level of queerbaiting.

there was the field scene, the couple's counselling scene, the boat scene, the couple's counselling scene, Bucky going with Sam to face Karli when she told Sam to come alone, the couple's counselling scene, ALL the staring scenes, Sam checking out Bucky's ass here as they said goodbye, the "i would move in with him but" hidden scene, "Uncle Bucky" showing up at the cookout scene, the romantic walking off together into the sunset together ending scene, and the couple's counselling scene. did i forget anything? but i mean seriously, the couple's counselling scene!!! that thing they did with their legs and their crotches while staring deep into each other's eyes, would any straight guy willingly do that? do straight guys crotch-snuggle now?

[image ID: an image of Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes during the therapy scene with the quote, "Isn't anybody going to drag me into impromptu couple's therapy and slot my legs firmly between theirs before staring deeply into my eyes?"]

(yeah i stole this image from a buzzfeed article on the fan reactions to the couple's therapy scene. but given that they stole 80% of the content of that article from fandom tumblr, i think it's pretty even-steven.)

there's also the fact that people started talking about bisexual Bucky Barnes a lot after the tiger pictures line, and the lead writer Malcom Spellman responded to the talk of Bucky's bisexuality with "just keep watching". well we watched, Malcolm. but it's beginning to feel like you were just jerking us around.

3. the writing

seriously though, what else is Bucky Barnes doing right now in the MCU? his only remaining connection to anything going on right now is through Sam. there is literally nothing else established that's left for him to do that doesn't involve Sam. he moved to Louisiana to be closer to Sam (canonically), he hangs out with Sam's family (canonically), and Steve is presumably gone and is definitely not coming back for more adventures.

he has no villains or loose ends left. he has no other superheroes that he appears to be in contact with. he has no girlfriend or potential love interest, or even other friends or family. he is living in a tent that he has secretly set up in Sam's backyard and is mysteriously appearing from the bushes when it's time for dinner like a stray cat.

in my opinion there is no other meaningful and pre-established progression for Bucky's character that wouldn't just feel cheap.

plus, i don't think the general audience would be all that surprised if they kissed. i think a LOT of people picked up on all that tension. i think a lot of straight people picked up on all that tension too.

4. the chemistry between the actors & the chemistry between the characters

the original pitch for tfatws was essentially just this, it was the chemistry between Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie and their respective MCU characters of Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson.

now obviously Anthony and Sebastian are simply friends, and i wouldn't mean to imply anything more. but they are also not their characters.

Sam and Bucky's scenes together before tfatws were both limited and short, and yet audiences still fell in love with the dynamic between the two characters.

in interviews, these two actors are constantly slipping into character and flirting with each other and frankly it's adorable. plus it's really entertaining. i'd love to see that dynamic, unfiltered, in a movie.

because believe it or not the flirting is actually even more open in their interviews than it was in tfatws. and i'm leaving some links as proof.

this here is known as the "married" compilation

and here's a "lucky dip" selection of interviews - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5,

and here's Anthony trying to get Seb to take his jacket off.

i'm just saying, why not let their chemistry shine? these two are so talented and so entertaining, especially when you put them in a room together. and can you imagine how absolutely hilarious and brilliant it would be to watch them navigate being a couple?

(and for those who bring up the "friends would be uncomfortable pretending to be dating" argument, i'm not here asking for a sex scene or anything. i don't think anyone would expect them to show any more intimacy (physical or emotional) while playing a couple than what they've already shown together in say... tfatws or in their own interviews. not that i actually expect anything regardless.)

5. if they were a man and a woman they would've gotten together in tfatws

i have no more to add here. just that... yeah, they would've.

6. and i'm not talking about the comics here, i'm talking about the MCU.

i understand fully that none of what i'm saying here falls in line with these characters from the comics. but the mcu itself doesn't fall much in line with the comics either, and these two characters especially are very different from their comics counterparts.

i'm not asking for these two to get together in the comics. tbh i don't think that it would work.

but the mcu Sam and Bucky are different and closer than their comics counterparts. they've got different histories, different backstories, and a very different dynamic. please rest assured that i am only talking about them in the mcu.

7. Bucky Barnes is believably bisexual. and Sam Wilson has never been proven to be straight in the mcu, nor has he had a love interest.

(now please continue to keep in mind that these points only stand for the mcu versions of Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson, and not at all for their comics counterparts.)

Sam Wilson has never had a love interest, which is crazy because have you seen that man! he has had two blink and you'll miss it moments of verbal expression of attraction to women, both in TWS. and that's the extent of it, through his entire history in the mcu.

Bucky Barnes has had a number of surface-level female love interests, but none of them even came close to the level of connection and chemistry that Bucky shares with Sam.

and i'm sorry SarahBucky fans, but i just don't think there's very much to their relationship either. i love Sarah, i really do. but it's Sam who shares all the meaningful moments and history and chemistry with Bucky. and i don't see what making her into a love interest would do for Sarah's character either, what would that add to her story?

[Picture ID: Bucky at the cookout with Sam, Sarah, Cass and AJ. Bucky and Sam are looking at each other and smiling.]

and also there is the whole tiger pictures thing... again. which does strongly suggest that Bucky is bisexual whether this was intentional on behalf of the writers or not.

8. it's representation... AND it feels natural

marvel hasn't had a lot of queer representation that's been noticeably present in the MCU at the time of writing this.

there have been a lot of failures so far, from the bisexual erasure of Valkyrie in Thor Ragnarok to the wlw erasure in Black Panther.

there was queerbaiting almost identical to the bisexual Bucky baiting for Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2. when asked if he had considered featuring a gay hero in gotg2, director James Gunn stated that "We might have already done that. I say, watch the movie." after the movie's release audiences were understandably confused about the lack of queer representation. To which the director followed up his comments with, "But we don't really know who's gay and who's not. It could be any of them."

there is also Loki, considered by most fans after the airing of his six episode series on Disney+ to be both a poor attempt at both genderfluid representation and bisexual representation. with both attempts being summed up fairly well by the term "blink-and-you'll-miss-it". (also it's just terribly written and Loki doesn't wear any interesting clothes! fanficcers are a Goddamn blessing in this hard time!)

and let us not forget that Andrew Garfield was apparently FIRED for pushing for a bisexual spiderman. a bisexual spiderman within an interracial mlm relationship no less.

so for all these failures, marvel, why not allow us queer fans this? two brilliant and heroic men in a loving interracial relationship. two heroes that we can look up to.

now, one of the biggest detractions from the argument for representation is the idea of "forced diversity". and some poorly written characters certainly do end up feeling forced into the narrative. take Iceman in the comics for example, with Jean Grey just straight up suddenly telling him he's gay. like, marvel, sweetie, that's not how this works! and i don't know a lot of queer people who thought much of that "representation".

but the crux of the "forced diversity" argument is almost always that it feels unnatural within the story, right? and i don't think that anyone could say that about MCU Sam and Bucky ending up together, given these characters' existing chemistry and their history. they've both played characters in gay relationships before so we know that it's not outside of either actor's wheelhouse. and y'all know that Anthony and Seb can act, people. if it's in the script i believe that they'll make it seem like the most natural thing on earth.

9. it'd be a nice change

there's been an ongoing meme lately about "Disney's first gay character", the joke being that they continually announce gay characters without really ever including gay characters in their films.

this is to the point where Disney has formed a reputation amongst queer audiences of being homophobic.

if Sam and Bucky were to become a couple, then Disney could have its first actual gay character within a gay relationship. AND have him be in the lead of his own movie, no less.

it's also worth keeping in mind that there's likely an overlap between the people who were outraged by a Sam Wilson Captain America, and the people who'd be outraged by a gay Captain America. and if they were already not seeing the film, then i don't think much is gonna change that.

queer audiences would definitely love it, and the media attention would be guaranteed to be huge. i mean, simply look at the amount of media attention mere rumours of a character's queerness gets you and multiply that by a canon confirmation of said rumours.

but i'm pretty sure that Disney already knows this.

10. and yet, in truth, it's not about the representation

in truth i've never felt that i had any trouble relating to characters of any sexual orientation, race, gender, sex, body type, etc. (although that is not to throw any shade at all on people who do wish to see themselves represented) but for me, i think it's more about the story than the packaging.

and yet, a love story is still just a story. straight or queer, monoethnic or interracial. when two characters have chemistry and history and have sacrificed for each other time and time again, and they also can't keep their hands or their eyes off each other, then i'm pretty sure that that's a love story.

straight or queer, monoethnic or interracial, it shouldn't be about these simple labels. it should be about how well written the relationship is. it should be about chemistry, and history, and sacrifice.

because i'm fucking sick of all the hollow, forced romances in media no matter the genders of the participants. i'm sick of lazily written, shallow relationships where any two people sharing the same space for any extended period of time will simply fall in love. it's boring, it's repetitive, and as a writer myself it drives me up the wall!

romance stories suck! and everyone knows that romance stories suck. between twilight, and most of the entire YA genre, and love triangles (so boring), and romance used as poorly-written throwaway subplots in Hollywood movies, the world is in agreement that the romance in western media is simply dreadful. and yet we still want love stories. it's an entire genre that sits at the heart of the human experience (<3), and yet one which so few of today's best known writers seem truly able to capture.

i don't think that i'm the only one who feels this way, either. i suspect it's actually a large part of why fandom is so romance-centred in the first place, that we're all just starving for a good love story.

(btw i think fandom has a reputation for being something that as a whole that it is not. it has this reputation for straight up demanding things and harassing people until they get their way. while unfortunately there are a few people who do this, they're fucking annoying and i swear that they're far from the majority.

in my experience fandom is mostly about writing a five thousand word story at three am while drunk off your ass because it might make someone whom you've never met smile, editing it in the cold light of day, and then posting it. expecting nothing. sometimes getting nothing. and sometimes getting someone send you kudos or a comment so heartbreakingly wonderful that it makes you smile in return.)

11. so once again, it is all about the writing.

i want to see Sam and Bucky get together in the mcu, not because they would be a gay couple but because i genuinely believe that their story has potential to be an amazing love story.

and i know the mcu isn't about the romance. it's why in my personal opinion we haven't gotten a lot of good canon romances besides Peter Quill and Gamora. and i don't think that the mcu should be all about the romance either. i fucking love the action and the fighting scenes. i love the comedy. Captain America: The Winter Soldier had no romance and it was a fucking treasure, it was an amazing spy-action-thriller and it made my little gay heart dance. Thor Ragnarok had no romance, and it was an utterly brilliant comedic spectacle action film. not every movie needs romance.

but mcu Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes were doing couple's therapy and fixing a boat and walking off into the sunset together in tfatws. they were inseparable on the battlefield. they've got a dynamic. it's beautiful, it's romantic, and it's gold.

a budding relationship between them in the next movie would be a good way to explore both characters more without the narrative feeling too stilted and separate. at the end of tfatws, both Sam and Bucky fans found that their respective fave felt somewhat underutilised and that their characters were underexplored.

now, that problem would be even more difficult to remedy in a movie, because the plotline of a movie needs to be really tight to work (giggity). and we know that the central conflict of the movie is gonna be action-based (which is good), but we still need each character's personal journey and growth to tie into the main conflict. (which is another issue that some fans found with tfatws, that these characters didn't really feel connected to the action-based plot on a more personal level.)

if Sam and Bucky are already in a relationship, however, this whole dynamic changes. first, their relationship has already been set up for nicely since TWS and through tfatws and they would officially be the best-fleshed-out couple in the mcu. but most importantly, a relationship gives them a perfect vehicle to explore both of their pasts comparatively and connect them personally to the action-based plot.

do you want to establish that Sam is a little too trusting and naïve? then establish this through his relationship with Bucky, and through showing his placing his trust in Bucky. (rather than through having him sympathise with a villain who threatened to murder his sister and his nephews).

perhaps you want to show Bucky recovering from his trauma? show us how comfortable he is with Sam. they get along, they're enjoying each other's presence, we see more of Sam's life and of his family, and then let Bucky tell Sam something that's raw and dark and honest about his life as The Winter Soldier. something about a memory, one that he only just recalled. he's opening up. and maybe what he tells Sam is even something that sets up the future action-based conflict, to ground that in something real.

you want to explore that Sam has trauma too? do this through Bucky. he tells Bucky a story about his time in the military. in the form of a flashback, he shares his own story of loss to evoke before the audience the shared theme of feeling at fault even when you're simply a helpless bystander to an act of pure destruction.

then, action sequence! and it's directly connected to Bucky's time as the Winter Soldier. explore the grief of someone whose life the Winter Soldier tore apart manifesting into a villain perpetuating the cycle of pain. establish your villain.

Later, Sam is dragged into battle against this villain for protecting Bucky. But Bucky doesn't want Sam to protect him. He feels guilt for what he can't control and he doesn't want Sam getting hurt because of him. Bucky reminds Sam that he has a family, one who needs him and who loves him. He tells him to go home.

Sam reminds Bucky that he's a part of that family. And that sure Sam's a hero and his job is to protect anyone and everyone, but that he's doing it because he wants to. It's not simply to prove that he can, or to prove that he's not a bystander (this connects to Sam's trauma here), but that he's doing it to help people.

and this gets Bucky thinking about who he is and what he's doing here. is he a hero who stands by Sam's side? or is he an ordinary man who stands aside? or perhaps, does he stand alone? what does he stand for? Maybe Sam knows. But does Bucky?

Sam and Bucky fight off the villain again, and for the first time Bucky meets this adversary face to face. And Bucky recognises this villain, and has a flashback to the genuine pain that he inflicted upon them in the form of the Winter Soldier. Bucky freezes mid-fight, he almost dies, and Sam has to save him.

Sam chews Bucky out for almost getting killed because he was afraid for him. but Bucky takes this the wrong way and goes off to fight the villain alone, or perhaps to die alone, he's not quite sure.

He puts up a half-hearted fight. He apologises for what the Winter Soldier has done, and he waits for the killing blow, when Sam swoops down and he saves him. He asks Sam why he saved him and Sam calls him a moron. And then, Sam asks him what sacrificing himself would solve. He tells him that you can't choose your past but you can choose your future (connecting to his own experience of loss and guilt and grief). And that no matter what Bucky Barnes still has a future, whether that's as the Winter Soldier or the White Wolf or just some dork with a day job. And that he has a future as a part of Sam's family too.

Sam fights the villain, and it's toe to toe. He delivers a few good blows, but receives a fair few himself. And then the villain tears off his wings, first one and then the other, in a manner reminiscent of what the Winter Soldier did to him in TWS. Through Bucky's eyes there's a flashback to highlight the parallels. Sam gets back on his feet and he fights his best fight, but is now losing.

And then the heavily injured Bucky steps up and fights by Sam's side, and only together do they take down the villain.

"So... I inspired you, huh?" Sam teases with a smile, utterly exhausted. "With my heroism and-"

"You inspired me." Bucky said, equally exhausted. "Let's leave it at that."

Together, Sam and Bucky go back to the safety and warmth of their family. Sam fixes his wings. Sam goes back to being Captain America. And Bucky... he's around, but it's unclear what he's doing.

That is, until the very end. When Sam is in a fight, and suddenly Bucky shows up and helps him out.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asks.

"I've made up my mind." Bucky says. "I'm the Winter Soldier. But now I'll save lives, Sam. Now, like you, I'll be a hero."

Sam smirks. "So does this make you my sidekick, then?"

Bucky smiles. "C'mon, at least make me a partner." He says.

"How about co-workers." Sam says (in flashback, he remembers back to the death of his last on-the-job partner).

"How about friends." Bucky says, with a wry look.

"Bucky... I don't want to see you put your dumbass self in danger." Sam says.

"Oh, and it's ok for you to go running off into danger on your own all the time?" Bucky asks.

"Yes." Sam says stubbornly. "Absolutely it is."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not a dumbass?!"

"Sam, if you think I'm not gonna be watching your back for the rest of time... then you're the biggest dumbass I know. And I don't care if you need me or not, I will be there for you."

"Because Sam, you're more than Captain America. You're more than a good soldier. You're a good man. And I think sometimes, the world forgets what the difference is."

...or something like that.

(i only spent like 15 minutes on that. you know if i were actually writing this movie i would come up with something much better. and if anyone from marvel is seeing this, yes i can come work for you. i will make the time, let's do this thing right!)

finale

at the end of the day, whether or not the mcu chooses to make Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes a couple, it's their decision. and they don't owe me anything.

i'm just some random person on the internet. who thinks that Captain America 4 should #givecaptainamericaaboyfriend

#givecaptainamericaaboyfriend #meta #analysis #captain america 4 #caatws #fatws #tfatws #captain america #cap 4 #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #marvel #mcu #mcu phase 4

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jlalafics · 3 years

Text

"Photograph"-a Royal!Everlark story

This was inspired by this prompt from @writing-prompt-s:

When you were seven, you held a fake wedding by the swings with a kid you met at the park. You never saw your childhood “spouse” again after that day. Today you received a letter summoning you to a foreign country… where your wedding to the heir to the throne twenty years ago is seen as valid.

This is totally unedited. Thank you to @sparklingdust4612 for bringing this prompt to my attention. Looking forward to everyone else's interpretations along with this one and the story by @jhsgf82!

I actually have more of this but I thought I'd show y'all a little bit of my interpretation of the above prompt.

****

We keep this love in a photograph

We made these memories for ourselves

Where our eyes are never closing

Hearts are never broken

And time's forever frozen, still…

-Ed Sheeran

Photograph

Katniss Everdeen loved building castles.

In the massive sandbox, she packed another bunch of sand into her bucket before placing it upside down to set. While waiting, Katniss imagined how she would decorate the inside of her palace, a delighted smile growing on her face as she thought of the possibilities.

First, the walls would all be yellow. Not the ugly yellow that looked like snot—but yellow like Prim’s, her baby sister, golden locks.

Yellow meant hope: that’s what Daddy always said.

Knocking on the sides of the bucket to loosen the sand like Mommy showed her, Katniss slowly lifted it revealing a perfect tower for her castle.

“Yes!” she hollered, jumping up in excitement.

Her eyes went to Mommy who was sitting on the bench across the way. She was talking to a pretty, yellow-haired woman with a big tummy. Prim was asleep in her stroller, her binky hanging from her mouth.

“Mommy!” Katniss rushed over, stopping just a scant from toppling over on the concrete. “Look! I’ve made the perfect tower!”

Her mother smiled proudly.

“That’s wonderful, Katniss.” She turned to the woman next to her. “My Katniss is always building and dreaming on how to make her perfect home. Her teachers tell me that she has such a creative mind for a seven-year-old.”

“How absolutely charming,” the woman responded kindly, a smile on her pink lips.

Katniss tilted her head at the sound of her voice. There was something different about the way the lady talked—the dips of it sounded strange—but still nice.

“Why do you sound like that?” she asked bluntly.

Her Mommy frowned. “Katniss Everdeen! Please apologize!” She looked to the woman once more. “I’m so sorry—”

“That’s perfectly alright,” the lady assured her. The pretty woman turned to Katniss. “I have a little bit of an accent because of where I’m from, that’s why my voice sounds different.”

Katniss nodded. “Okay, but it does sound nice…like a song!” She smiled. “What’s your name?”

The woman glowed like an angel. “My name is Marguerite.”

“Hello Miss Marguerite.” Katniss looked to where her sandcastle waited. “I better go before someone takes my stuff! Bye!”

Throwing a wave at the woman, she plopped back down onto her space in the sandbox ready to add some detailing to her newest tower—

The foot crushing her tower landed straight in the middle of it creating a space between each side.

Katniss fumed and her eyes went up to the blond-haired boy with the snooty face.

She stood, her hand slamming into his chest. “Hey! You destroyed my castle!”

The boy stared at her in shock. “No one ever touches me!”

“Until now—”

Katniss was suddenly blocked by another boy, tall and dark-skinned.

“No one touches his royal highness,” he declared, and the blond boy stuck his tongue at her.

Another boy, this one dark-haired and sharp-eyed, approached.

“Prince Peeta has decided that you will be his bride,” he stated with a scowl.

Katniss made a face, crossing her arms to show them how disgusting that sounded. “Gross.”

The so-called Prince Peeta walked over to her.

“As my bride, you can make as many sandcastles as you want,” he explained. “I’ll build a bigger sandbox than this for you!”

Something inside zinged at the thought. “Really?”

The boy shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

Katniss eyed him suspiciously. “Why would you want to marry me anyway?”

Peeta shifted in his stance, the confidence in his blue eyes suddenly wavering. “I like your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

A rise of pink colored his cheeks. “They’re soft…and pretty.”

That had been it for her.

On that warm afternoon, by the swings of District 12’s only playground, Katniss Everdeen married the so-called Prince Peeta.

“You may now kiss the bride,” Gale, the dark-haired boy, said. He looked at Peeta, a teasing smile on his face. “Go on—kiss her!”

“Close your eyes,” Peeta told her.

Katniss, wearing her paper towel veil courtesy of the park’s public bathroom, did what he said and closed her eyes.

SPLAT!

She barely registered being shoved down into the muddy puddle.

Katniss looked up at the sneering boy, feeling the rise of anger in her body.

“That’s what you get for pushing me.”

++++++

Twenty years later…

“Katniss.” She looked up from laptop to find Prim at her open doorway. Her sister held out a Fed-Ex envelope. “This just came for you.”

Without even glancing at it, Katniss tossed the envelope on her bed, going back to the open page on her screen.

“Don’t you want to open it?” Prim stepped into the room and plopped onto the bed, picking the post up to examine it. “It looks important.”

“Probably one of those things saying that I’m eligible for another credit card.” Katniss frowned, sitting back, and staring at the blinking cursor. “I’m so stuck on this blog post!”

“Is this the one about kitchen flowers?” her sister asked, and she nodded. “You got some great pictures from Madge’s shop.”

“I know but my writing inspiration is zilch,” Katniss explained. “I need to get this done if I want to post by Mother’s Day.”

“Speaking of Mother’s Day, mom is wondering if you’re bringing anyone to Sunday dinner,” Prim informed her.

“I love our mother but lately every conversation we’ve had is either about my lack of a dating life or my withering eggs,” Katniss said. “Right now, I need to focus on getting more attention on the blog. It’s just gaining momentum!” She rested back and turned to her sister. “This is important to me.”

“I know,” Prim replied. “And you are good at it. I mean, look at what you’ve done to our apartment! To this room!”

Her sister’s bright blue eyes looked around the buttercream room, beautifully decorated with white-washed furniture. The console that her television sat atop was bought at a nearby thrift shop and refurbished by her. Katniss had sanded it down before putting a whitewash over it and adding lacquer to give it a more modern look.

In fact, most of the furniture in her and Prim’s apartment was completely refurbished by her. She had always had an eye for decorating and instead of going to a four-year college, Katniss had opted to go to design school.

Creating something new from what people considered junk gave her a special kind of thrill—almost akin to being in love.

At least that’s what she thought it might feel like.

“Whoa!”

Katniss whipped over to her sister—who was holding an unfolded paper in her hands.

She stood from her seat and went to Prim. “What?”

Wordlessly, Prim handed the piece to her—it was a letter.

The letter was on marbled paper, an elegant insignia atop it, and she could see that the elegant calligraphy was done by hand:

Dear Miss Everdeen,

You are hereby summoned to the kingdom of Panem to present yourself to His Royal Highness, King Peeta.

Photo documentation has validified that you are the Queen Consort to His Royal Highness.

Attached is my business card, please contact me to arrange your travel to Panem.

Respectfully,

The Rt. Hon. Effie Trinket

Private Secretary to His Royal Highness

“This is a joke!” Katniss tossed the letter onto her desk and laughed. “Photo documentation? There is no such thing—”

The laugh fell from her lips as Prim turned the FedEx envelope upside down and a single photo fell onto her bedspread.

“There’s a business card in here, too,” Prim told her carefully.

Walking over, Katniss could see that the photo was facedown.

Trembling, she picked the print up and read the elegant cursive atop it:

‘Peeta and his new bride, Katniss Everdeen!’

Next to the caption was a happy face; it was obvious that this statement was made in jest.

Turning the photograph, a wave of nausea hit seeing the image of her seven-year-old self, a paper towel veil atop her head, joining hands with a blond boy—

Prince Peeta.

Or to be more precise, His Royal Highness King Peeta of Panem.

#Everlark Fanfiction #Everlark #Royal!Peeta #Commoner!Katniss

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tipsydipsydo · 3 years

Text

Der Geliebte

Pairing: Jungkook x artist! Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 6.4k

Rating: 16+

AU: non idol! Jungkook x artist! Reader AU!

Genre: strangers to lovers AU; friends to lovers AU! (idiots to lovers AU!); love at the first sight! AU; soulmate to lovers! AU (kinda?); unbelievable amount of fluff; a little angst (fluffy angst!!,); tiny amount of smut (one paragraph xD)

Warnings: tiny bit of smut/some sexual tension between both of them; Jungkook is a poor shy thing and is fucking nervous around the reader all the time; teeth rotting fluff; both are so in love with each other that they’re getting stupid to not realize it; both are insecure that they’re not meant for another... just fluff, fluff, fluff and painfully obvious pining over each other!

A/N: Hallelujah, I finally did it! After I made Sibi @borathae wait over three months for her Christmas + Birthday Fanfic I finished it two weeks to late for my sweetest Darlings Birthday! I am so incredibly sorry that I made you wait for such a long time and really, Sweetie, you have all the rights to be still mad at my stupid ass! Nevertheless... I love you so goddamn much and I hope the fic made at least a little bit up for it... Love you!!!! 💕 💕

Summary: You and Jungkook met right at the first day you opened your own atelier in Seoul after you had to leave your old home behind you. You love paint canvas with landscape motives, other people just roll with their eyes when they hear that you choose such usual, almost boring things to paint. Not so Jungkook, he seems to be different than most of visitors. It’s almost like he can read your feelings through your paintings...

Status: Edited (I am sorry for any still existing errors in here!)

[Links]:

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「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

* Jungkook’s POV *

"In what are you getting yourself into, Jungkook?"

I quietly ask myself as I get rid of my clothes behind the paravent and throw the dressing gown over his body which you laid out for me. My hands are sweaty, they tremble slightly and my heart beats wildly, as if it wants to jump right out of my chest. Excitement spreads throughout my body, leaving a faint feeling in my stomach and a certain blush rises in my cheeks. I still can't believe what I've gotten myself into . But... you looked at me so pleadingly with your dear and downright innocent eyes that I would have done anything for you with that look of yours. I want to make you happy, see that happy and contented smile on your lips, which always makes a whole horde of wild butterflies break out in my belly. 'Normally I was the shyness and silence in person and with you... with her, I feel for the first timesomething like peace and security. Especially when I consider how shy I usually am around women.', I ask myself and I don't really know the answer to that. But what can I do against my feelings? I don't really know, on the one hand they scare me, on the other hand they feel so exciting and new that I don't want to eliminate them at all.

I don't even know exactly when the whole thing started. In which moment my feelings for you grew, when I felt more than just fascination and admiration for you and your artwork. Six months ago, a small studio had opened in my district, your own studio. On the day of the opening I simply went to it of pure curiosity, I had always had such a weakness for art and photography.

I can still remember exactly how I stood in front of one of your works and was literally speechless and overwhelmed by this picture and all his small details. This painting represents a classic image of the countryside, which was often to be found everywhere. But this work was different. So full of small details and ornaments. It was so much more... As a viewer you can see a beautiful clearing, which is surrounded by trees and protected from too many curious eyes. The ground of this clearing is overgrown with dense and lush green grass, which from the incoming sunlight almost invites you to let yourself fall into the grass. It reminds me instantly of my carefree childhood, when I rolled in it without overthinking my actions too much and those times when I playfully wrestled with my best friends around until our clothes had grass stains all everywhere. I could almost smell the scent of wild, untamed nature. The longer I look at the picture, the greater the longing became. Maybe I could visit this beautiful place one day, together with my partner, my significant other. Playing around with each other, chasing your beloved one until you fall into the grass breathless laughing and cuddling. Maybe we could have a picnic there and feed each other with homemade sweets?

I didn’t know that such a "simple" landscape painting could touch and awaken so much more in me, in my soul. Suddenly, such a wanderlust came over me that I gasped for air and a heavy lump formed in my throat. My whole body was tingling and my heart was literally screaming to get away from this dreadfully grey and monotonous daily routine of my boring single life, for at least some weeks. I want to go to this place, where I could draw the warm and fresh, natural air could deep into my lungs and pamper myself with homemade delicacies. Just to let the soul dangle and don’t stuck with my closely clocked work life. Maybe sleep until 10 o'clock in the morning and then maybe have a nice nap later. Enjoy the warm nights and hear the crickets chirping. This longing was... irrepressible. This particular wanderlust for nature, just to be out of the city, this longing for exactly this abandoned and untouched forest clearing literally overwhelmed me. What was it for an artist who could trigger such feelings and emotions in me?

I had been so absorbed in the artwork that I had not even noticed that a person step next to me. "Do you like the work?", asked a soft melodic voice, which spoke perfect Korean, but was pervaded by a light accent, which I could not quite assign. I flinched a little, but this bright, happy laugh gave me a tingling goosebumps all over my body. What a beautiful laugh... I turned to the person who was the owner of this beautiful voice. I was startled when I realized that the artist and owner of this studio was standing in front of me personally. I recognized her again, as I had seen a small photo of her in the newspaper article that drew my attention to this beautiful studio in the first place. Already in this picture she had radiated something so strong, colorful, cheerful and lively, which caused an excited flutter in my stomach.

I admit, I already laid an eye on her just by her appearance. Unfortunately I always had a hard time getting to know people ever since, let alone to talk to women. And now having you, Y/N, personally standing right in front of me, made me feel fluffy and excited in my stomach. Nothing is left of this otherwise so sassy and self-confident man that I used to be. Only a nervous and stodgy twenty-three-year-old idiot, who did not know what to say or wanted to say, now stands in front of this stunningly pretty and intelligent woman.

Her eyes sparkles like jewels, full of joy, struck me with interest and a playful smile lays on her lips. "Did you not understand my question?", she asked kindly, but nobly reserved. Immediately a rosy puff settled on my cheeks and I stuttered nervously: "Y-Yes, excuse me! I... I was just somewhere else with my thoughts and was completely surprised that they were addressing me personally.... Your works are truly unique! They still show such ‘usual’ motifs and yet they are so special because of these finely elaborated details and this passion with which this work of art was painted. They really are... Unique artworks that you do not forget so quickly. Even for untrained eyes as my owns, I can see that a talented artist has worked on it. I am very impressed by your work, especially this work here!" You could hear the honest admiration from my voice and my heart leapt as she reacted bashful to all of my compliments.

"Thank you, really, thank you so much! I really appreciate to hear such nice words like yours, even if it is rare. I am often criticized for my ‘lack of creativity’, caused by my chosen motives. I just love the rough, almost untouched landscapes of my hometown, I try to depict the ‘normal’ as something beautiful, unique. I would like to ‘really see’ what we already take for granted again. As a wonderful creation, a work of art. Nature is a wonderful example of this, or the architecture of buildings as well. Architects are also artists, although unfortunately they are not seen as such. I just want to offer the obvious things a more meaningful space again.... People like you have become rare. I have observed how you have recognized the true meaning, this beauty and aesthetics in such a ‘usual-looking’ motif. And this pleases me so much that you can read 'between the brushstrokes'. Oh... Excuse me, I always talk way too much when someone shows an interest in art or music, my personal passions. Besides that, I have not introduced myself to you yet, I am Y/N! I was obviously so pleased to see your understanding, empathetic look at this work, if you understand what I mean... Anyway... I can guess that you knew my name already, don't you? What about you? May I know your name?", asked you, beautiful artist, with her really stunning smile.

I swallowed nervously, never before had a young lady mixed my emotions so much in me. Even the picture of her in the newspaper article, which I had read out of boredom in one of my lectures, got me so emotionallyconfused. I didn't want to say it in front of my teasing friends, but I had been really excited when I set off this Friday night. And now the creator of these works of art stood before me and seemed to want to have a longer conversation with me. My heart beats to my throat and I got sweaty hands from this nervousness in my poor body. Honestly, as soon as I wasn't surrounded by my clique of friends, I automatically turned into a nervous, slightly abashed blushing and stuttering guy who behave like an inexperienced teenager.

In private life, without my best mates by the side, I am not so confident and daredevil. After all, I always had someone who could cover my back when things get tough, while I am on my own without anyone I know. You could usually only believe and trust, not control. That's probably why I struggled with interpersonal relationships. I always overthink too much and have some struggles with my self-confidence.

And now this attractive young woman looked at me with such interest and joy, just me. I was actually the reason for her interest. A joyful and blissful tingling seized every pore, every fiber of my body. Yes, in fact it was just me! Not my best buddy Seokjin, whom I have known since childhood and always sought the attention of everyone. It was no exaggeration to say that he was perhaps a little narcissistic, but only to cover up his own insecurities. Never would I have thought that someone would manage to get this personification of self-love under control. I admired his wife for standing up to Seokjin and keeping him and his dad Jokes at bay. Believe it or not, she of all people had the pants on in the house and knew how to deal with my best friend.

My gaze glided over the figure of the person in front of me and once again I took a sharp breath. I was so nervous to face her personally, a person I already deeply admired and had quite a respect for. I simply did not want to do anything wrong, even if this charm of hers was almost tangible and paralyzed my entire brain with its function. I can already picture how my mind waved wildly goodbye to myself and went to the summer holiday in the Caribbean.

This carefree smile and these beautiful eyes harmonized wonderfully with your complexion. Your features were awake and alive, seemingly always a slight smile surrounded the corners of your mouth, which provoked almost paradoxical reactions in my body. Your smile awake countless butterflies to flutter around in my stomach, which made me quite nervous and at the same time you radiated such a sense of security and calm, as if there was no reason not to get a word out of shyness. My gaze, which I hope examined you unobtrusively enough, wandered to your hands. You had long fingers, I could really imagine how they elegantly held the handle of the paint brushes and worked on these small details extensively in such a calm behavior. Which satisfied and concentrated calmness you possibly radiated while doing that...

A small, noble clearing of your throat again tore me out of my fantasies and speculations. God, what was I today but inattentive! How rude I must have seemed to you...

"Oh, sorry... I... I have not been able to keep my thoughts together all day..." I lied to seem at least a little more credible. Nervously, I pulled on the knot of my tie to loosen it up a little before I have a circulatory collapse. Before I went here, I thought for a long time about what I should wear for this occasion. Jeans and T-shirt were out of the question, too casual and almost an insult for your atelier. A complete suit, however, seemed too overdressed to me and so I decided for a black dress pants and a dark blue dress shirt.Understanding, Y/N nodded and gave me a cheering smile, which made my body tingle again. This woman drove me half crazy alone with his friendly gestures. How could it be that this polite lady got me confused right away?!

And somehow, it gave me a frenzy to leave my secure, anonymous side as a visitor to her exhibition and irrevocably reveal my true identity to you.

"My name is Jeon Jungkook."I answered in a slightly trembling voice, hardly daring to look into her eyes and rubbing my neck unobtrusively.

* Jungkook’s POV *

If only I had guessed what would change in me, how you changed me. That so much more would develop from a pure interest and a simple formal business contact... that you want to make me one of your artworks.

I take another deep breath before I dare to step out from behind the dark red paravent. It is pleasantly warm in this room, I should not freeze, if I am already so freely clothed. My gaze wanders through the small room with the huge, floor-to-ceiling window, which floods the entire room with light. The walls of the room have been painted in a dark orange and red colors and dark wooden planks lay out on the floor. It looks so comfortable due to the warm, dark tones. The orange-yellow evening sun dipped everything into something so cozy... sensual. Somehow into even a little erotic?

Y/N wants to work a lot with the light of the evening sun in this painting, which could be a little complicated if it is not suitable or if it is cloud-covered. But if you have put something into your head, especially in relation to your art, then you do everything you can do to go through it! Also the changing forces of nature cannot stop you from trying to realize your idea. Sometimes, you’re someone who is quickly frustrated and dissatisfied with yourself as well, especially when something doesn't work as you wants it to. Nevertheless when it comes to your passion, drawing and painting, you don’t let your idea go away, if you want something, you’ll find a way to make it happen. These are qualities that I know all too well of myself and thus my fascination about you only grows even more. The more time we spent together and I get to know more and more sides of you, the more attracted I became to you.

Your art means a lot to you and you’re quite tough in this respect, can not be overcome by the reproaches and the crushing criticism. That’s exactly what I admire so much about you, having the courage to stand up for personal passion. When I get criticized, all too often I think about really giving up on it, so that I don't have to endure all this criticism anymore. And then I look at you. How focused you are in this moment and carefully prepare for your next project. How you adjusts you easel to the right height, let your self-stretched canvas snap into place, spreads brushes of all sizes and shapes on the small side table next to you and prepares youracrylic colours. I swallow again, as I watched this happen. I am about to become one of your next artworks.

A little uncertainly I walk towards Y/N, the thin dressing gown tightly drawn around my body... never before have I felt so naked and vulnerable. This here is something else. I feel something about it... I feel something for you. For this pretty lady, who sprays her cheerfulness around her and could conjure a smile on the lips of even the most grumpy person. This joy almost kills you, completely engrossed this person and gives you the feeling of floating. You will get the feeling of being welcome at Y/N. To be accepted, with all the flaws and weaknesses that one has. She just smiles at you so gently and lovingly and just says, it's okay. It's okay to be the way you are. Imperfect.

"It is precisely this imperfect, this contradictory and also unpredictable thing that makes us human. That makes us an individual and also interesting. If we were really all as we are expected to be, it would be boring and monotonous. The surprise is only a real gift. Each of us is a very individual gift to a very specific addressee, who is the only one who can truly appreciate this gift. Only then did the recipient find the right person as his gift... Well, if the recipient knows about his gift...", Y/N once said with such a certain look at me, when we went out to dinner together in a restaurant in the evening to clarify some details. I wanted to help her find good contacts in Seoul and help her sell her works.

I can still remember it exactly... it was a quite... extraordinary evening. I was of course once again incredibly nervous and excited. At that time, I did not want to fully realize how much I already like you. Secretly, I had observed my opposite. Your positive and friendly disposition had turned my head all around... and in addition, this beautiful body and her elegant fingers, which already haunt me in the most erotic way unintentionally in my dreams.

I could not prevent my dream pictures from shooting through my head, which is why my cheeks turned dark red in embarrassment. These fucking fantasies in my head! My eyes stare at the cutlery as if it were incredibly interesting because I didn't dare look up. There were scenes in my mind that made my ears turn red and I would’ve loved to hide behind the menu card. Your body, which made her look like a Greek goddess.

Naked, body covered in sweat, your body shook in lust, you sit up with a wonderful moan... You are on top of me, I could admire your beautiful, almost divine body as you sat on top of me... and rode me. This breathtakingly beautiful distorted face of yours, as if all this pleasure you feel is carved in marble... lids closed, your lips, swollen from all the kissing, are slightly opened which let your lustful whimpering escape. This grace and elegance, as you rose from me and then lowered yourself again... as your hands glide erratically over my stomach, searching for support... you suddenly threw your head back and clenched even more tightly around my length. The addicting sounds you’ve made... it’s like the most beautiful melody in my ears... squelching noises and even more of yourjuices gushing out of your sweet, so sweet pussy when you came...

An all-too-familiar laugh tore me out of my extremely indecent thoughts, which quite relieved me at first. Until I raised my head and not too far away I recognized no one but my best friend Kim Seokjin, who made very questionable hand signals in my direction. Oh my God, no! I knew that he had recently changed his job and got accepted for a position as a chef in a new restaurant... but not in this Restaurant! He will never let me life after he found out I was on a “Date” with a woman...

Even though Seokjin was on the other side of the restaurant, I could almost feel his smirk on my own skin. Fuck it, just pretend as if you do not know each other and hit him really hard tomorrow morning in the gym where we meet up for our work out. I quickly turned all my attention back to the person sitting opposite me and tried to ignore Seokjin as best I could.

It was only at the end of the evening, when I had said goodbye to Y/N, that I realized that this meeting had much more of a date than a "business dinner". How familiar we had talked with each other... how much I had thought about licking Y/N the drop from the chocolate sauce of her lava cake from her lips... how it would be... to kiss and touch you...

A noticeable blush has settled on my cheeks as I attended our first meeting together... or even Date in this Restaurant thought back. Four months had passed since then and I suffered from longing for you. You would never see me like I saw you. The reason you wanted to draw me was simply that she needed someone as a model. In addition to landscapes and cities, you want to devote herself gradually to more other motifs. And since I have been the first inquired. Your pleading eyes made me say yes. But I know that for me you have no more than the feelings for a casual friendship. It hurts to see how you flirt around so casually with all those other people. I would never be the gift for you as you are for me. If only the recipient would notice that there is a given heart laying in your hands...

"Ah, Jungkook! I’m glad that you're ready!", your cheerful and melodic voice cuts through the silence of the room and you’re walking towards me with excited shining eyes. "Come~," you say and lead me to the chaiselongue, which is placed in front of the large window. The soft, orange light of the evening sun falls on the wine-red fabric of the restored chaiselounge in baroque style. The upholstery has frames covered in gold and also the lion feet on which this historic furniture stands are gilded. Everything was decorated with so many Details, it looks so incredibly elegant and luxurious. On the left side there are some cushions in the same color and an elegant design is carved on the backrest, literally inviting to get used.

"Surely you know the movie 'Titanic', right? Do you remember the scene where Jack used charcoal pencils to draw an nude coal picture of Rose as she laid on the sofa? I would like to draw you in a similar position. I hope it's okay for you if I look at you more closely without a dressing gown... i want to get an overview of your body proportions.", you say, looking me straight in the eye. I notice that you’re very concerned about my privacy and does not want to overstep any of my personal boundaries without my consent. I nod slightly at first until I get a clear yes over my lips. She looks at me silently for a few seconds before reassuring me once again that we can always stop at any time if I feel uncomfortable. Especially your patience and mindfulness of my boundaries shows me how important it is for you as well and how I actually relax noticeably. Y/N smiles cheerfully at me and I slowly loosen the belt of the dressing gown and let the last garment slide to the ground. I feel her in-depth look at me... he is not uncomfortable... only... exciting... in a few different ways.

I swallow again and lie down on the chaiselongue as instructed. You correct my arm and leg position, also rearrange all of the cushions correctly. To my own relief, you put a red cloth over my crotch area. Not that I am ashamed of anything, I am more than comfortable with you already... I just have some worries that I will get a visible problem if I constantly feel your look on my bare skin.

"It should be able to guess something, but not be allowed to see everything right away...", she whispered with a smile, before her fingertips unintentionally glide tenderly through my happy trail. One of your last smiles are... not really to interpret. Then you return to your easel.

* The Reader’s POV *

Carefully you sit down on your old painting stool, already quite worn out on the edges and stained with the most different types and tones of colors. It had originally been dark brown. You smile dreamily when you think back that you’re used to dangle your legs around when you were a little kid because it was way too big for you back then. For eighteen years now you have exactly this stool and this easel. They had been a gift from your grandfather for your fifth birthday. He had awakened the passion of painting and drawing in you and passed his talent on to you. A certain melancholy seized you when I thought back to how you used to paint your first real picture on canvas with your new easel in the old music room in your grandfather's country house.

It had been the old, dusty grand piano, which must have been more than a hundred years old at that time. How the country house survived all these wars unscathed, you ask yourself to this day. Perhaps there had already been something magical about it at that time, which should remain untouched. Perhaps the small estate should remain an inconspicuous symbol of hope, the hope that at some point the sun and peace will return when the unbearable suffering and sorrow of this cruel time is over. When the wars were over and all those seeking protection who had fled to this country house were able to return to their own homes again. This house, this estate you can explain your childhood with a single word. Home.

You lift your thought-lost look from your empty, folded hands and look to Jungkook. He takes your breath away every time you see him. He is so special, such a wonderful and yet you firmly believe that he has not been chosen for you, such an ordinary woman as you are. He would belong to someone else with whom he would be happy, although he is the only one who was able to understand and read your works, the language in them. It... it had been such a beautiful moment when, six months ago, he stood in your newly opened studio, so absorbed by the painting of the forest of your childhood. All the other visitors had only looked at it briefly and smiled wearily at the fact that it was again only a landscape painting, but did not grasp what the story behind this work was. Why the artist chosed this very motif, to see, to feel what the creator wanted to communicate through the work.

But Jungkook had been different. He had given the work, your personal heart, a chance to unravel the true meaning behind it. He did it slowly, bit by bit with his eyes... grasped with his whole mind and heart and finally let himself be influenced as a whole. You could tell from his body reactions that he felt exactly what you had felt when you painted it last summer. Longing. Infinite Longing. Mixed together with melancholy, a little homesickness and sorrow to a unique emotional color. The day you painted it was the last time you saw the house in your official possession. Your grandfather had left it to you. But unfortunately you lacked money, you had to pay some debts and with the best will you could not earn the money in other ways. So you had to sell it with a heavy heart. Your beloved birth and childhood home and the associated lands, you had to sell your true home away. The picture is the only thing left of it. And Jungkook was the only person who understood what you wanted to express with the painting. Longing. My Homesickness.

When all these sensations came upon him, he involuntarily clenched his hands tightly, his chest lifted and lowered quickly, his Adam's apple hopped repeatedly. His eyes were glassy. He experienced your longing as directly as you did. He... is so special. So infinitely amiable. He... he is the only person who’s able to read your true feelings in your works. He is able to read between your brush strokes.

So today you will try him... to paint a confession of love with this act. Maybe he could read... what you feel for him. Even if you know that you will probably never see him again. Because you would not be the recipient of his love and affection. He's just too... too... gifted for a simple artist like you. He would never be your gifted person.

Your gaze glides tenderly and caressingly over his body. Trying to absorb every little detail of his body, his charisma and his character into you and let it flow into the painting. Every birthmark you want to put on the canvas and hold on. You want to show Jungkook how beautiful he is. How godlike he lies before you on this majestic chaiselongue, how masculine and muscular he is, as if he wanted to embody an Adonis. You want to paint every muscle, even the smallest visible muscle, on the canvas in a realistic manner, you want to capture the strength and security that he conveys to you over and over again and make it visible to him. And yet... his gaze often corresponds to that of an intimidated, insecure fawn, which does not dare to want to get up on his legs on his own. The fear of falling again is too big. Through this painting you want to show Jungkook what he really is, what he represents for you and what you feel for him. He is... so contradictory. He is strong, godlike, powerful... and at the same time, so infinitely uncertain, vulnerable... almost pure.

Silence enters your little studio, only the regular breathing of the other and the muffled noise of the busy world outside the door could be heard. Here... here, it feels like time is standing still for a moment for the two of you. Your shared eternity had begun.

To your happiness that it is summer right now and it stays bright for a long time. Today you take more time than usual to mix colors. You want to mix a shade that perfectly matches his skin tone. You want to get the exact color of his black hair down onto the canvas, and the perfect brown for his beautiful eyes. The evening sun and the leaves of the huge treetops in front of the large window conjure up the most beautiful patterns on his immaculate body. A game of light and shadow. It seems to you that Jungkook's body, every single pore of his body has a tiny diamond, so that he begins to sparkle in the sunlight like an infinitely precious jewel. The evening sun warms him, lays a thin layer of sweat over his body. Every detail you try to bring to the canvas, every feeling, every movement of my heart, everything you feel for him, you want to bring to this canvas. You want to make him a masterpiece. Because for you, he is the most beautiful specimen, the only true crown of the human creation.

Some black strands have come loose from his manbun and have fallen on his forehead. It looks stunning, to see him like that. I had never seen him with a messy or even completely open hair... but even now these strands loosened from the braid make his facial features look so much softer and more relaxed. In it, the adult and strong man united with a young, vulnerable, shy boy. The result is... infinitely beautiful. He possesses both sides, so he makes the seemingly inexhaustible divine human being.

His eyes, drawing his eyes with that expression in them, cost you a lot of nerves. Too often you misunderstood this infinite longing that you find in his dark, brown eyes. Again and again you have to restrain yourself, not just to get up, to go over to him... and to kiss him.

This longing look you misinterpret is as longing as you own... according to your closeness, your touch, your affection... according to your love. Because you love him. You love everything about him, his sheepish laugh, the way of rubbing his neck shyly, the way he speaks and explains his point of views about things, how he smells... just everything... every blemish he blames on himself, you think it’s like an artwork on him. He is so perfectly imperfect that you just fell in love with him.

The sun has already set and only the last pink and purple streaks could be seen in the sky, with which the past day says goodbye to the world. One last time you can hear the velvety stroke of the brush over the canvas before you finally put the brush aside. It is finished. You have given everything that is in your power, used all of your artistic abilities and knowledge to the utmost and you have incorporated everything that you feel and think about into this artwork. And what you see put a smile on your lips, but also makes your pulse rise. What will Jungkook say when he looks at it? He will see it... can he read what you feel for him in it?

With a trembling voice, you call Jungkook and look at him one last time. The last time the sight of this male beauty was granted to you. One last time.

After Jungkook has wrapped himself in the dressing gown again, he slowly comes towards you and your easel. Your heart is throbbing as if it really wants to fearfully flight and jump out of your chest. Your body gets hot and cold at the same time and suddenly your hands get sweaty, the dried color on your skin mixes with the sweat to a uncomfortable mess in your palms, which somehow makes you even more nervous. Then he stands next to you. Looking at the canvas for the first time himself. The last brushstroke is still drying.

Once again there is silence, which makes you incredibly nervous and with every second that passes, you want to follow your instinct to escape. Jungkook's pupils are dilated and blown out, whether with bewilderment or horror, you can not recognize. One of his hands shoots up his mouth, he trembles all over his body. Suddenly you hear a suppressed, throaty sobbing. Surprised and a little appalled, you look at Jungkook, who has shut his eyes tightly and presses the palm of his hand even harder on his mouth, as if he wants to muffle every sound. Tears escape the corners of his eyes. This is a reaction... which you would not have expected...

Gently, mindful of any kind of resistance, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't sob, he doesn't whimper. He just cries. Tenderly, consolingly you hold him, without wanting to distress him. He literally presses his face into the crook of your neck. Salty tears drench your blouse, but it doesn't bother you. The reason why he had such an emotional outburst, you just don't understand. But still... it's okay. It is valid.

As he slowly calms down and his breathes becomes regularly again, he carefully lifts his head out of the crook of your neck and wipes the last tears out of his eyes dry in slight embarrassment. He slowly releases himself from your embrace until you finally stand silently in front of each other.

"What title you’ll give this artwork?", he asks softly, in a rough, throaty voice. You swallow . "It shall be called 'Der Geliebte'. ...it is german and translated it means... ‘The beloved’ ", you say barely audibly and lower your head. After this confession, you can no longer look him in the eyes.

Jungkook takes a sharp breath in and you're actually just waiting for a devastating response from him that would be like a death threat. But nothing of this happened. Instead, your chin is suddenly raised by his fingertips and you look into Jungkook's beautiful eyes. He bites his lower lip a little uncertainly,his own gaze falls on your pretty shaped lips.

"Do you... do you allow me to kiss you?", he asks quietly... barely audible for you even though you’re standing so close to each other. He doesn't dare to look you into the eyes after such a question, he is too afraid that you deny his request. But you can hardly believe your luck, a high pitched ‘yes!’ flew over your lips and before you can control yourself, you press your own lips right onto his. They are incredibly soft and kiss you back in such a delightfully and endearing insecure and shy manner as no other could ever have done it.

Your heart beats full of joy and bliss and in your belly, the butterflies fly somersaults of all different kinds that your whole body began to tingle. Your mind cannot get a grasp of all this yet, but this... you don't need any more of it at this moment anyway.

The kiss is tender, shy and somewhat uncertain from both sides. Jungkook is very insecure and shy, but before he can escape like a frightened deer again, you put your arms around his neck and let your hands rest in the nape of his scalp. Again and again you detach yourselves from each other only for the fraction of a second to get a breath of air into your lungs in order to find each other lips again... until you stopped for a few seconds.

"I like you... I like you really, really much, Jungkook... I even dare to say that I fell on love with you.", you mutter softly against his lips. His shy, happy smile was too much for you, so you immediately kiss him again. Perhaps because of the sheer joy and maybe of the certainty that he feels the same for you, the next kiss turns into something more passionate than before...

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shihalyfie · 3 years

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@sage-striaton replied to your post:

Idk how people can say Frontier has characters that lack depth. Imo it’s a very psychological season. The whole adventure thing is aimed to making them grown in their behaviours and feelings, it’s a big metaphor of their development

I’m sorry for hijacking your response to my post to segue this into another rant of mine, but I want to emphasize that one of my goals with this blog (if I can be said to have any) is that I really, really, really want people to re-examine whether they actually believe in the rhetoric that’s been dominating this fanbase for two decades, or whether there’s more to it. This is especially in regards to the fact that we’re talking a series deliberately written in such a way that it’ll change meaning and nuance as you get older, so it can “grow up” with you in a sense, and yet it seems like -- especially in regards to Adventure through Frontier, due to their position as the oldest series that the majority of the fanbase was elementary or preteen age during -- people are still regurgitating the same rehashed twenty-year-old ideas like they’re undeniable law. It’s one thing if they’re saying it because the series didn’t sit well with them the first time and they don’t want to watch it again, but we’re reaching a recurring problem where it’s sort of “brainwashing” even people who don’t actually believe it but feel compelled to go along with it, or wouldn’t feel that way if it weren’t for peer pressure. Obviously, there are dissenting opinions, and ones that are even very loud about that, but that pressure remains.

The mainstream opinion in the fanbase is that Adventure is untouchable and impervious to any criticism, 02 is its inferior sequel with half-baked characters, Tamers is an auteur work that’s the “deepest” of the original tetralogy due to being dark, and Frontier is devoid of much substance at all. Even those who don’t really believe in this will still be pressured to go alongside it, those who like 02 or Frontier will be pressured to consider it a “guilty pleasure”, and it’s only very recently when certain events revealed that the idea of 02 actually having quite its own fervent and passionate fanbase that likes it on its own merits became properly recognized. (I have actually noticed a huge uptick in 02 fans, especially casual ones, being more shameless in talking about liking it in the last two years; you’re still going to get the obnoxious person “reminding” you how bad it apparently is if you bring it up, but it’s not nearly as prevalent as it used to be.) I’m not talking about whether something is a “good” or “bad” series -- that concept doesn’t really exist to me as much as whether it’s “to one’s tastes” or not, and I think one of the joys of this franchise is that it has things that cater to people with vastly different preferences -- as much as a lot of potential for analysis and intimate thought about these very fascinating series. Even if 02 and Frontier were as shallow or half-baked as they were accused of, I wouldn’t think it’d be shameful to like them for one’s own reasons anyway, but what frustrates me is that I just don’t think that’s true in the first place!!

Not helping is that there’s still a refusal among the fanbase to admit that there were substantial differences in American English dubbing (especially in regards to Adventure and 02), which I don’t mean as a bad thing in the sense that some people prefer to stick only with that dub and consider that version what they want to work with, but in the sense that the treatment of them as “the same thing” has been horribly detrimental when two people, one coming from that dub and one coming from the Japanese version (or a dub more closely based on it), will end up often having an argument doomed to go nowhere because they were never talking about the same thing to begin with. Recently, a friend admitted to me that although they’d switched to the Japanese version a long time ago, they still couldn’t get the image of Daisuke and Takeru having an inherently hostile relationship (they don’t) out of their head due to the influence of that dub, and although they consciously knew better -- at least enough to admit this to me -- it wasn’t helped by the fact that the fanbase itself continues to reinforce this image because of how normalized it is to treat the dub version and the Japanese version as “virtually the same” and for Western fanbase discourse to assume you should be projecting those takes into the Japanese version. If you’re hanging out in English-speaking circles but are working from the Japanese version or a dub directly based off of it, you do actually have to filter out a lot of takes you’re hearing because they won’t actually apply to the version you’re watching, but not a lot of people realize this.

All four of Adventure through Frontier share tons of key staff, especially Seki, known for her focus on wanting the kids in the audience to be able to empathize with and relate to the characters on screen. All four share some of the best character work I’ve seen not only in this franchise, but also in kids’ media in general, and I also stress that a lot of this has a ton of nuance that isn’t always apparent unless you read between the lines. I do understand that a lot of this probably went over our heads as kids, and I won’t say that the choice to execute it this way should be impervious to criticism, but nevertheless, I think it’s important to call attention to the fact it is there, and much of it becomes recognizable once you see it that way; for instance, so much of "it's contradictory character writing!" comes from the fact that the series tries to represent humans in their inconsistent, messy ways, and while it'll feel "messy" from a writing trope perspective, when you think about it as "since this person has this mentality, does it make sense to approach this with this mindset?", suddenly it becomes very consistent. The supposedly “shallow” 02 and Frontier characters will act in ways that match existing psychological profiles meant for actual humans to terrifying degrees, in ways that you might actually recognize even better once you’ve hit adulthood and start intimately understanding things like depression or anxiety in ways you might not have before. Shockingly, “having heart, important themes, and kindness towards the human condition” are completely valid reasons to uplift a creative work in ways distinct from technical writing or cerebrality or how many tropes they subvert or whatever.

On the flip side, people praise Adventure and Tamers for being the naturally “superior” works with better writing, but when it comes to talking about why the writing is supposedly better, a good chunk of the reasons stated don’t actually explain anything substantial, or go back to actually being passive-aggressive dunks on the other series in some form -- it’s because 02 and Frontier’s character writing sucks that badly, or because Adventure had the “best plot” (which may be true if by “best” you mean “easiest to understand”, but that doesn’t mean much to someone who might not be very happy about how its story progression is just a boss rush), or because Tamers is the “deepest” when by “deep” they actually mean “cerebral, dark, and unsubtle about it” without any further meaning (as if Adventure and 02 were idealistic series that never went into anything nuanced and not, say, the fact they went very viciously deep into societal issues between parents and children, psychological horror, and intimate takes on the human condition). I’m personally saying this as someone who does think Adventure and Tamers have a lot to praise in terms of their approaches to realism and the unique aspects each bring to the table, and I feel that people like this are doing them more of a disservice by not bothering to uplift them for any reason that isn’t actually just inherently condescending. I mean, even taking this outside of the original tetralogy for a bit, when I was plugging Appmon earlier, there’s a reason I focused more on its theme and character writing and the use of “dark” writing to convey its sheer range, rather than trying to boil it down to a shallow “it looks cheery but gets really messed up later!”, which is unfortunately an argument I’ve been seeing about it lately.

In the end, when I write my meta, I write it "making a case" for my point of view, and I welcome others to disagree, but if you disagree, I really hope it'll be because you personally disagree, and not because the entire fanbase has been saying otherwise for twenty years and I sound like a radical. I’m not saying that everyone’s consensus takes are completely unfounded, but frankly speaking, this fanbase has some really bad takes, and in the past few years I’ve found it freeing to not only “say what you feel without worrying what others think”, but actually go out of my way to outright try and purge all the preconceived notions and pick only the ones I agree with because I actually agree with them. I encourage you to do it too! And if you do, you might find things about something you like that you didn’t realize before.

#digimon #shiha's ask box #sage-striaton #digimon adventure #digimon adventure 02 #digimon tamers #digimon frontier #shihameta

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outofworkderpy · 3 years

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Hey Everyone!

Sorry for the lack of comics lately, been a mix of being so busy lately and the most recent Derpy comic fighting me for various different reasons. Also my tablet has some dead spots on it now and doing line art has been kind frustrating lately. Haven’t had time to deal with it. So instead of Derpy stuff today I figured its way past time to up date you all on the Kobold Project I have been working on. There is good news and bad news. TL;DR at the bottom

The Bad News (Koigzist Kobold Comic) The original Kobold Comic I was working on with a friend has been put on an indefinite hiatus. To put a long story short, the friend and I have had creative differences in the project and the friend also has some personal stuff come up in his life so the brakes have been put on it. Maybe we will come back to it, maybe not, but for now it has been shelved. Sorry for those of you who were looking forward to it. I was too. The Good News (Kobold Express Comic) I have decided to work on an entirely new Kobold Comic project. And to be brutally honest I’m far more excited for this one! Above is the concept art that has been done on the project so let me know what you all think! Here is the synopsis of the comic: Kobold Express Long ago dragons ruled the sky, reeking havoc on the Skyland's of the world. In their hubris, the Dragons created a slave race of Kobolds to do their bidding. However, the kobolds lamenting their fate, rebelled against and nearly wiped out the dragons. In a last ditch attempt to survive, the last of the dragons created a magical storm, The Maelstrom, preventing travel between the Skylands. 100 years have passed and the Maelstrom has ended. With the sky now free to travel, the Skylands try to relearn to make airships to travel the world again.

Kira, a young kobold merchant raised by humans, finds a magical airship and goes on an adventure seeking fame, fortune, and alliances with the world! But are the dragons truly gone? Or are their other powers that now rule the sky? And most importantly, can Kira and her friends steer clear of trouble? Anyway hopefully that sounds interesting for you all without spoiling the plot too much. Still super early in the planning stage so everything is up to change between now and when the comic goes live. Also special shout out to @alazak! Although this is 100% my project. unlike the other Kobold comic from before, he has been helping me by being an awesome friend to spitball ideas with and to help with concept art. His art is up above too, it is the last image of concept art in the group! Make sure you go and check out his Tumblr and give him a follow. He also might be working on his own new project that he has yet to announce, so lots of new stuff coming your way! Hopefully you all enjoy it! TL;DR Sorry no Derpy comic today; Old Kobold Comic on Hiatus; New Kobold Express Comic is in Progress!

#Post #kobold #kobolds #kobold express #kira #doc rock #express #concept art #sketch #father banks #vampire #cute #dwarf #elf #fantasy #airship #adventure #dragons #dragon

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goggles-mcgee · 3 years

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Too Late: Luka & Kagami (commission for miner249er)

Chapter 6 of the commission for @miner249er

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Summary: Luka and Kagami just being there for one another and trying not to drown in their guilt and grief

It was mostly quiet between the two, Kagami had taken to channel surfing while Luka strummed his guitar aimlessly till he got sad and frustrated that he couldn’t find a melody. Then he would meditate before trying again. Mostly he was trying to get back into the music for his mom and Juleka’s piece of mind, he knew they were worried about him, he knew they noticed the lack of music in his life, but he also knew they knew why. Marinette. Even just thinking her name made his heartstrings tug painfully. How had everything gone so wrong? Him and Kagami had a plan, at the time it seemed like a good plan, but thinking back on it now he couldn’t help but see it for all it’s flaws, and there were...many. He felt like a fool, but he hadn’t brought up their failed plan because he knew Kagami could not handle hearing about their failure. He could hear it in her song, he could see it in her eyes, it was seeped into her very being, and all he could feel was pain and regret. That’s why there was no more music.

The “music” he would make would sound like his heart and his thoughts, and at the present they sounded like someone threw silverware in a blender and he felt like he was in that blender himself. Constantly hurting, constantly trying to get out and heal, but never being able to because he was too caught up in the motions. Once he had gotten the Snake Miraculous, he thought he understood the saying, “Those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it.” His power was all about learning from the “past” and that saying had always been something that had stuck with him. He thought him and Kagami were well prepared to handle anything with their plan, but the more he thought of it, the more he screamed at himself that they should have told Ladybug, they should have told Marinette, they should have said something, anything.

Romeo & Juliet had always been his least favorite Shakespeare play, he hated miscommunication in tragedies. It worked well as a plot device in comedies, but in tragedies it was just frustrating. Luka always believed people could be better than the famous star-crossed characters and everyone else in the play, he truly believed he was above that level of miscommunication. Sure he had trouble explaining himself, more often than not he used his music as his voice, confident it would make sure his feelings were communicated clearly. Then Marinette came and he found himself wanting to talk without his instrument as the voice, each day built his confidence, he had never been that confident in his talking abilities, and then everything crashed and burned. Miscommunication was the fuel.

He was sure if he hadn’t cried as much as he had already he would be in a fit of sobs at the moment, but as it was, Luka was all cried out. So was Kagami it would seem, whose mother uncharacteristically was actually giving her time to herself, time to grieve, and time with her “friends.” Luka knew the only friends Kagami had were him and Marinette, and there had been that air of almost more that hung above them all, but just thinking of that hurt him more than he could ever put into words or song. It was easier to deal with the heartbreak of the things that came to be and passed rather than the ones that hadn’t even had a chance to see the light, or even have the opportunity to be a proper thought that was discussed. No. No. He wouldn’t think about it. He couldn’t think about it.

“Luka? You okay?” He heard Kagami’s soft voice ask. He looked to her immediately hoping he wasn’t showing the desperation he was feeling, but at the tight smile he got in return he knew he failed hiding it. “Thinking about her again?”

He made a noise somewhere between yes and no. It was harder to talk when she disappeared, but he didn’t want to leave Kagami to have to interpret all his sounds so he cleared his throat and pushed past the lump that seemed to be stuck there no matter what he did. “Shakespeare.”

Kagami nodded and took a seat beside him on the couch and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Romeo and Juliet again?”

Luka sighed and nodded as he closed his eyes and leaned his head on top of Kagami’s softly. “I know it’s not technically history, but it’s a part of history and it made me think.”

“I would say stop thinking since that’s all you’ve been doing today, but I know that is not easy and not actually achievable.”

“If I could stop thinking that would be great. I just...she would still be here if I had-”

“If we.”

“If we had just communicated we wouldn’t have lost her...I...we…” Luka growled before sitting up and grabbing his guitar and playing an angry harsh cord. He held his guitar to his chest like a lifeline, his grip not loosening, the string biting into his skin and for a moment he wished it stung or imprinted but his callouses protected him.

“I know. I know. She...Marinette was my first friend. The first friend I had ever made on my own. Not one my mother made me have because it would be good for the company or because it would make me or her business partners look good.” Kagami started to tell Luka, of course he paid attention, Kagami wasn’t really one to open up about how she felt. Even with all the time she had spent with him and Marinette and all the encouragement they both gave her to be more open with them. “I thought...I believed our plan was foolproof. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t stop to think of human error, and everything that could go wrong. Marinette...Marinette and you gave me optimism Luka. I had never looked at the world or any situation I had faced with optimism. It’s not how I was raised. Or any Tsuguri for that matter.”

Luka didn’t know what to say so he held Kagami’s hand and gave it a squeeze for comfort and a way to say to continue if she felt comfortable. There of course was an anxious little voice inside his head that was screaming that, maybe, just maybe, if Kagami hadn’t spent so much time with them, everything could have been avoided but he quickly shot that thought down. He would never regret becoming friends with Kagami. Never. She was Marinette’s and his compass. She gave them control and direction when the two of them wandered too far. Luka was the calm, he was the ship’s wheel. He followed the compass and made sure to keep them all steady and comfortable, but he was always ready to change the course if they all needed the change of scenery.

At first, Luka thought of Marinette as the sea. Beautiful, full of life and emotion, taking care of all the creatures and life in its waters, and filled with creativity. Then she changed in his mind to a lighthouse, something that would call him and Kagami home, a safe haven, something to strive for. Again the image in his mind changed to her as their anchor. She kept them both grounded, she made sure Luka didn’t get too lost in his thoughts and she made sure Kagami didn’t second guess herself. She kept them safe. Marinette was all those things and more.

“But you guys,” Luka tuned back into Kagami and berated himself for getting lost in his thoughts, “you guys gave me optimism. I was no longer just thinking about the bad that could happen in things. When we made our plan, I thought I had been thorough, that we had been thorough. I wanted to believe we were doing the right thing. The intelligent thing. Most importantly, I wanted to believe we were doing the helpful thing. I was optimistic. I was hopeful. And in the end we lost her…”

“Kagami...There is nothing wrong with being optimistic.”

“Did I say there was?” She snapped before her expression fell and she held Luka’s hand in both of hers, her eyes teared up as she looked at him. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you didn’t mean it Gami.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“Maybe not but you have already apologized. That’s what makes it okay.”

“If you say so...I’m just not entirely convinced, but okay. It’s just, I love that you and Marinette are optimists. I liked seeing things positively for once and not always thinking what could or will go wrong if I didn’t do things perfectly. But the one time I do so, it bit me in return. I...I hesitated Luka. Now Marinette is gone, the media only reminds us of her akuma and only wants to speak of her akuma and not the wonderful person she is. Except maybe Nadja and Aurore’s blog. It’s all that’s on TV, then there’s the whole Agreste situation that I would prefer not to think about but again, the media is focused on it.” After Kagami let all that out it was like she deflated and sunk into the comfort of the couch. Luka decided to join in and just flopped himself back into the couch and just stared up at the ceiling.

“Oh yeah...that. On one hand I can believe it, on the other I don’t want to but yeah let’s just...not get into that today. Maybe another day,” Luka grimaced at the memory of all the Agreste “rumors” flying around, and honestly he understood why Kagami would prefer not to think about any of that.

“Or ever. That could be beneficial too.”

“Gami. You know it’s better to face something than avoid it.”

“Perhaps, but avoidance sounds like the better option considering everything that has happened.”

“Have you spoken to Adrien at all?”

“No. Not since I found out he had no spine. And now...now I don’t even know how I would go about speaking to him. I do feel for him, but he’s not someone I consider a friend anymore. If anything he’s an acquaintance by necessity.” She huffed out with a shrug of her shoulder as she once more grabbed the remote for the TV and returned to channel surfing.

“Yeah, I get what you mean. It’s....talking with Jules has been hard. It was hard before, but now it’s...I don’t know. I know she wants to talk to me, I try to talk to her, but she won’t talk to me. She used to before Lila. Then we fought...we never fought...but she didn’t want to listen to me about Lila and her screeching of a song. Juleka got mad that I couldn’t see the “true” Marinette. She said I was blinded by my...my feelings.” Luka preferred not to remember him and Juleka fighting but it had become normal ever since his sister had started listening to Lila Rossi. After everything that passed though, Juleka wouldn’t even look at him unless it was in worry, like she couldn’t look at him. Not because he wasn’t worth her time, but because she seemed to believe that she wasn’t worth his.

In the simplest of terms, it was heartbreaking.

“Rossi has been exposed now though. She knows you were right.” Kagami said full of confusion, and Luka could admit it sounded confusing no matter how you looked at it.

“I think it’s because I-we- were right.”

Luka glanced over at Kagami and saw her frowning, “She’s angry that you, that we, were right?”

“I think it’s more shame than anger. I don’t doubt there is anger there, but it’s most likely directed at herself. Her song is all over the place…” He admitted with a sigh, he just wished that Juleka would open up to him like she used to so he could help. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew that something was happening at her school and it wasn’t good for her or her classmates. He hated thinking his sister was getting bullied but with Marinette’s rise to fame as an akuma and her almost cult-like following and those who raised her to martyr status all around, he wouldn’t be surprised if the “Akuma Class” was being “taught a lesson.”

“And yet she still won’t talk to you?”

“It’s...complicated. We are both not the strongest talkers, but it has always been worse for Jules. Now with everything that has happened…” Luka let out a frustrated breath and ran his hands over his face. Before him or Kagami could say anything else to add on to the conversation they heard rushed footsteps hurrying down the stairs towards them. Immediately, Luka recognized them as Juleka’s footsteps.

Juleka burst into the lounge from the deck, one look at her and Luka felt his anger rise. His sister’s clothing was ruined, her jeans that she had painstakingly sewn the lace to the outer edges of herself were splattered in paint and if he wasn’t mistaken there were rips on the knees. Her shirt looked wet and paint splattered, as did her hair, and one glance at her only visible eye told Luka she had been crying. She seemed startled to see them there and for a while none of them spoke, the only noise came from the TV where it had seemed to stop on a news channel since Kagami stopped her channel surfing in favor of focusing on Juleka’s entrance.

As soon as Luka stood up to comfort Juleka, maybe ask who the hell did that to her, she just as quickly shouldered past him and ran into her bunker with a slam of the door. That was another new thing, though not unneeded, they both got separate rooms after...after Marinette had helped Luka convince his mom they deserved separate rooms. Especially because of Jules and his ages and the fact a curtain wasn’t enough privacy but then there was the fighting due to the Lila and Marinette situation. It was just easier for them all if he and Juleka got separate rooms, his mom agreed, he knew it was because she noticed the tense silences and the loud music coming from them both during that time. So Kagami and Marinette helped Luka clean out another bunker room that had been used as a storage room and then helped him move in.

Luka didn’t know how long he stood there just looking at Juleka’s door but he came back to himself when he felt Kagami place her hand on his shoulder. He looked down at her to see her giving him a sympathetic smile and gave his shoulder a squeeze for comfort. It was grounding, but Luka’s heart still hurt at his sister’s refusal to talk to him or Kagami. He knew she needed him, and honestly he needed her too, he just wanted to be her brother again, and her be his little sister that was sometimes annoying but it was in a loving way. Everything had changed and Luka felt like he was on a sinking ship with nothing to grab onto for support except Kagami but he didn’t want to drag her down with him.

“I just…” He started, his voice tight with tears.

“I know.” Kagami answered.

“...Collège Françoise Dupont.” Both of their heads whipped towards the TV once they heard the name of that school. On the screen were two reporters that neither were very familiar with but they had seen the news channel in passing.

“Is that right? An investigation?” The male reporter asked.

“That is correct Robert! It has been confirmed by inside sources that a full scale investigation will be launched on Collège Françoise Dupont! Not only for its horrible negligence against The Protector but because of new reports made by students who no longer fear having to be akumatized since Hawkmoth has conveniently disappeared. Apparently the number of calls to the Board of Education was just appalling. As were the reasons behind the reports.” The female reporter announced with a plastic smile, but if you looked it would twitch every so often like she was fighting to keep smiling.

“I would like to say I’m surprised Madeline, but that would ultimately be a lie.” Robert quipped back with an equally plastic looking smile.

“Yes it would Robert.” The reporter called Madeline chuckled as she said that. “In other news still connected to The Protector, her parents will be getting an official apology from TVi Studios after said studio used footage of their daughter without permission written or otherwise.”

Luka and Kagami winced at the mention of Tom and Sabine as they knew the couple were having a hard time, but they had no idea that TVi Studios showed that segment without permission. Luka especially had a hard time believing it considering Nadja worked there and was a good friend of Sabine’s. Kagami looked particularly worried about this so Luka nudged her as a way to ask what was wrong. “Do you think they sued the studio? I don’t think M Dupain and Mme Cheng are in the right state emotionally to go through a lawsuit.”

“Well...they said it was an official apology so I don’t think they sued, which is good, because you’re right. They are in no state to go through a lawsuit or anything much at the moment.” Luka agreed.

“On to World News, there has been an amazing recent discovery in Northern Scotland. It has stumped the people, and historians. When we come back from the break we will talk about this historic find and what it means for the people of Scotland. See you after the break Paris!” Robert said before the commercials started up. Luka didn’t know why, but something told him that discovery was important.

Next Chapter

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enchantedblackrose · 4 years

Text

Safe Again

Not my image. Google image search

Pairing: Antonio/Fem Reader

Requested @fabyoliveira1999

Summary: Y/n is kidnapped when an undercover assignment goes wrong

¡Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood, allusions of sexual assault, potential police brutality? All very in line with the show

A/n 1: this is a work of fiction. The gang and names used are completely made up and not meant to reflect any real persons. Thank you.

2: Part 2 will be a fluff drabble

Safe Again

A darkness overcomes you as you slip out of consciousness. The steady beeping of the machines around you are now frantic, their shrill sound piercing the ears of everyone around.

Antonio yells out your name as hospital staff force him from your room. It isn't until Hank and Kevin pull him by his shoulders does he fully retreat. He sees a familiar face in the hallway and remembers a conversation he's been meaning to have.

"Halstead!" Antonio's voice shakes in anger. He stands face to face with the younger detective. His finger accusingly pointing.

"How the hell did this happen in the first place, man? You were supposed to have her back!"

Jay's voice was quiet. "I know." He drops his head in hands. "I'm so sorry, man. I should've pulled us out of there."

"You were supposed to watch her." Antonio strains to speak, his tone is much softer this time as he fights back the tears threatening to spill. Wordlessly, he claps Jay's shoulder, giving it an affectionate and apologetic squeeze. None of this is Jay's fault. Antonio knows this and instantly regretted taking his emotions out on his colleague.

-72 hours prior-

You're sitting in the bullpen, having just been assigned to go undercover with your partner acting as your boyfriend. The idea being that the two of you would infiltrate the known drug gang the Scorpions as potential buyers and dealers for the more upscale neighborhoods the leader, Sammy, was trying to reach.

Your actual boyfriend is the first to speak. "Oh hell no. You're not doing this," Antonio tells you, earning a hard stare from you in return. "She's not doing this," he shifts his attention to Voight. "These...thugs are ruthless. They're killers."

Hank's eyebrow shoots up, wordlessly questioning Antonio. "Watch yourself there. Last I checked this was my unit. I give the orders."

"Sarge, if I may," you interrupt. "I'm willing to do this. I've successfully gone undercover before and I've gone alone," you remind not only your sergeant, but your boyfriend. "I want to do this." Your eyes fall to Antonio momentarily before looking back to Hank.

"Do whatever you need to prepare," he orders. You nod, reaching for your cell phone. Hank turns around and heads into his office. Antonio is hot on his heels, letting the door slam shut behind him after giving you a displeased look.

You huff an angry sigh. From his desk, Jay offers a sympathetic smile. "He's coming from a good place, y/n," he reminds you. "He's just scared. He knows you're more than capable of handling yourself out there."

Appreciating Jay's words, you nod your gratitude and make the call to set up this meeting.

You are fuming the entire walk up the stairs to your apartment. Antonio follows closely behind. You wait until the door closes completely before angrily spinning back in your heel to glare at him.

"Do you have any idea how demeaning and humiliating it is to not only have my boyfriend, but a superior colleague to react that way in front of my sergeant? Our sergeant? This is important, Antonio! And I'm not some rookie. I've done this before! You have no right-"

"You're right," his voice is calm and not at all what you expected to hear. "And I'm sorry, mi amor. I made sure to tell Voight before we left that I support you doing this and promised to not let my feelings compromise this case."

"Oh." You feel your anger start to dissipate. "In that case…can you order dinner, please? I'm going to take a quick shower." You stand on your tiptoes, pecking his lips softly with yours before heading to the bathroom.

Today was the day you and Jay, or rather your aliases Roxie and Ray (you relentlessly teased Jay about his lack of creativity), were meeting Sammy, having already built a rapport with some of the other members lower in the chain of command. If it went well, today should be the day you make the bust. Both of you step into the garage to meet the team and go over plans one last time. You're in a body flattering dress hitting right above your knees, Jay in a suit sans necktie.Your friends whoop and catcall Part of your personas was playing a bored, wealthy, money-motivated couple and you had to look, not just act, the part. As Antonio approaches, Jay excuses himself saying he'll be in the car waiting whenever you're ready. Antonio's voice is quiet. "There's still time. Don't do this."

"I thought you supported me."

"I did...I do! I just can't let you-"

"Let me?" You yell, earning the unwanted attention of those nearby. You shake your head, hurt and disappointment shine in y/e/c eyes. You walk away without another word, getting into the passenger side of the car

You reach the autobody garage the Scorpions use as a front. Immediately they pat you both down by a few members you've met during the time undercover. You're positive your inspection is more thorough as he squeezes your one ass cheek.

"Hey man," Jay shouts seeing you get groped.

"It's alright, babe," you wink. "Rico's only appreciating a good thing when he sees it." Rico smirks before declaring, "They're both clean."

Sammy, and another man you recognize from case files, Nic enter. "What's this? Who did you bring me?"

"These chumps are gonna be your new sellers."

Sammy's eyes hone in on you. You hold his gaze. "Hell naw," Nic says. "They brought you cops."

"Oh, please," you say, rolling your eyes. "With this face and ass-he knows, he felt it," you point to Rico, "I'm too fine to be a cop." You flash a cheeky smile.

"Bitch, shut up!" The back of his hand connects with your right cheek. The stinging causes your eyes to water. Beside you, Jay flinches; it's hard from him not to react.

'Listen man, I don't know what you think is going on. We just-"

"You can shut up, too."

You hear the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking, turning to see it pointed at Jay. Sammy gives a nod to one of the others.

"Look out," you try to warn Jay, but it's too late. The butt of a gun hits Jay in the temple and he gets kicked at the back of his knee until he falls to the ground. His head hits the cement flooring hard. You don't understand why the team hasn't busted in yet.

Nic's gaze is on you. "You testified at Dierk's hearing." His fist swings and it makes contact with your jaw. It's enough to make you sway but you remain on your feet. "He was my cousin you, stupid bitch. Get her in the car. Leave him."

As you're forced into a black SUV, you manage to choke out a weak,"Jay, " your stained voice sounding unrecognizable to your own ears.

The equipment they sent you in with was faulty. Voight was furious as was Antonio. They whole worked diligently to get video or audio, anything to keep tabs on you and Jay. It's not until the SUV, with you unbeknownst to them inside, peels out, that the whole team moves in and finds Jay bleeding and unconscious on the floor. Kevin reaches him first. "He's alive!" he shouts to the others. Adam radios for an ambo before he and the others continue to clear the building. Kevin gently shakes Jay awake. He groans, hands instantly reaching the side of his head. He makes to stand.

"Easy there, brother," Kevin warns. Jay lets Kevin help him to his feet. "We've got a bus on the way."

Jay nods, "I'm fine. Where's y/n?"

"She's not here. No one is," Hank answers as the rest of the team draw near Jay. Jay's stomach plummets as he realizes they've taken you, his partner.

"Son of a bitch!" Antonio yells, kicking an oil drum.

"We work fast to get y/l/n back," Hank declares. "Check for surveillance, witnesses. We find that SUV and we find y/n. Alive

Any means necessary. Let's move." The team disperses and his hand clasps Jay's shoulder. "You get checked out by medics first." Jay opens his mouth to argue, but shuts it quickly. He nods his compliance. Hank and Antonio follow him to the ambulance that's just arrived.

"Hey boss," Jay speaks, with a tentative glance to Antonio. "This went south when Nic recognized y/n as the detective who testified against his cousin. Hank pursed his lips, but even in his anger, the color drains from Antonio.

"Voight," Antonio's voice almost cracks.

"We'll get her back."

Bloodied and bruised, you're alive with very little clue as to where you are. Your survival skills kick in.

You take note of your surroundings. You think you're in an unfinished basement of a residence. Definitely a lower floor as you remember being tossed down a flight of stairs. Your hands are bound behind your back and tied to a support beam. The door to upstairs is locked and even if it wasn't, based on all the noise coming from the floors above you'd never make it out undetected.

The door opens and heavy footsteps make their way towards you. Nic comes into your line of vision.

You try reasoning with him, "As far as I'm concerned, nothing's been done that can't be undone. You just gotta let me go."

"You don't get it, do you? Maybe this will clear things up for you." He draws his gun, pressing it into the middle of your forehead

"But first I'm gonna fuck you real hard." His face inches from yours. Nic pulls the gun away. His stale, hot breath reeking as he stands too near. You couldn't help but scoff before you throw your head into his, headbutting him with all the might you could.

He cries out in agony.

"Stupid bitch." He backhands you. Then grabs you by the chin. His furious eyes never leave you and a rough hand claws at the skirt of your dress. You feel cold metal pressed against your thigh. "First, I'm gonna fuck that tight pussy with my gun inside you then-"

"Why?" You smirk. "Afraid you won't be able to get it up?" So much for those survival instincts. Anger flickers across his face. His free hand makes a fist. You dodge his swing and he instead makes contact with the pole. This enrages him more. Hastily Nic puts the gun back in his pants. Both his hands wrap themselves around your neck.

14 hours have gone by. That's how long it's been since Antonio's last seen you. He's hurt and getting desperate. With less than two hours of sleep (Antonio only went home after Voight said he wouldn't be any help without some rest), he was out trying to find any witnesses, checking traffic cams, and placing calls to all his CIs in hope that any of them might be able to give a lead. When one of them started stringing him along, Antonio jacked the guy up against an outside brick wall near the precinct. That's when Kim found him.

"We got something," she says in a hurry, fearing Antonio may do something he can't come back from.

The team picked up two Scorpion members and one is currently in the cage.

"Five minutes, Hank. Just give me the key and five minutes alone with this guy," Antonio pleads to his sergeant. From the cage, the Scorpion chuckles. Antonio lunges causing the chain links of the cage to rattle. He appears more animalistic than human and the laughter does immediately. "Where is she, you bastard?" Hank looks at the guy, still refusing to talk, then he unlocks the door for Antonio.

"Are you crazy? You can't let him in here with me," he shrieks.

"Your boss has one of our own. And she just so happens to be his girlfriend, so you're crazy if you think I could really stop him if I wanted to," Hank answers before moving away from the door and heading upstairs. The door barely swings open before Antonio steps inside, knocking the guy to his ass with one punch. He picks him up by the shirt collar preparing another blow when Jay and Adam come flying down the stairs.

"Get outta here!" Antonio yells.

"We got an address. Atwater and Kim they picked up another member and he talked," Adam says breathlessly. Antonio hesitates.

"C'mon on man," says Jay, "He's not worth any more of your time. If y/n's there, let's go bring her home."

Hours have passed. How many you're unsure, but as they ticked by your hopes of being found or escaping dwindled. Pain flows through your entire body. You sit on the cold, hard basement floor, unable to stand anymore. Nic had strangled you until you passed out. He never touched you like he promised and when you regained consciousness you were alone.

Shouts came from upstairs. You're unable to hear every word, but you catch enough to know they're talking about you.

"We need to move her now. We've kept her alive too long!" You hear footsteps and then the opening of the door. Nic appears before you, with a sinister grin. Your heart races as he nears. His eyes roam your body as he undoes his belt. He pulls you to your feet by your hair. A whimper escapes you and he laughs. Once again, his hands pull at the skirt of your dress. His hands travel along your thighs and ass squeezing both. His touch makes your skin crawl that you actually shudder. His fingers start to tug your underwear down when there's a commotion from upstairs.

"Freeze! Chicago PD."

"Drop the weapon!"

"On your knees! Face down."

"I said drop it!"

Your heart flutters with hope, but then shots ring out and you have no idea who's firing or what's happening up there.

"Down here!" You yell. The basement door opens.

"Chicago PD!" Antonio and Jay's voices ring out.

"One male. He's got a gun," you warn. As they rush down the stairs, Nic pulls his gun on you.

"Drop your weapon!" Jay orders. His eyes perfectly fixated on the gun in Nic's hands. Antonio eyes you carefully and while seeing you bruised and a gun to your head isn't ideal, he's relieved to see you alive. Your colleagues' guns stay fixed on your offender. "You won't be told again. Drop. Your. Weapon." Your eyes lock with your boyfriend's beautiful brown ones and you nod ever so slightly. You slide down the pole as Nic moves towards you as if he was going to use you as a shield. Both Antonio and Jay fire their guns. Blood splatters onto you. Jay moves to check the body, but all you really notice is Antonio running to you and it's honestly a beautiful sight. "Baby, baby, baby. Hang on. I got you," he soothes, working quickly to free your hands of the zip ties. Your head falls into his chest. Really your whole body just collapses into him. Antonio holds you close, careful not to embrace you too hard, but his touch has never felt better. You sob uncontrollably as he begins to rock you.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," you repeat.

"Shh. You did nothing wrong, mi amor. Shh, now, baby. I got you. You're safe again."

Immediately you're taken to the hospital. Blood is drawn,xrays taken, exams given. You've sustained several injuries, but nothing critical. Mostly you're bruised and exhausted, so when the machines you're hooked up to start beeping erratically, Antonio is confused and scared again, clearly demonstrated by that outburst directed at Jay.

He opens his mouth to apologize when Will Halstead exits your room.

"You can go back in now," he says simply.

The intelligence team looks at him, confused.

"What the hell just happened?"

"Y/n wasn't breathing properly."

"What?"

Will puts his hands up. "No no. She's fine. She can breathe. She was sleeping and wasn't breathing deep enough for the machine to register it. I promise she's fine."

There's a collective sigh of relief from everyone.

Antonio coming back into your room is a most welcoming sight. There's so much to say, but your eyelids are heavy with sleep. Instead you take his hand in yours. Antonio's free hand lovingly caresses your face.A feeling of safety washes over you and you drift off into a peaceful dream.

#antonio dawson x reader #antonio dawson x you #antonio dawson imagine #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #antonio dawson #requested

236 notes · View notes

love-and-monsters · 4 years

Text

Necklace for a Dragon

M dragon X GN reader, 5,975 words

A dragon commissions a necklace for his deceased mother, but he is reluctant to open up about her death. Can you help him work through his grief?

The thin, delicate chain in your fingers clinked quietly as you worked on it. The magnifying glasses perched on your nose enabled you to carefully manipulate the tiny gemstones into place. It was a nice piece, you thought. The white and pale yellow gems set against the deep platinum gave the impression of tiny stars in a night sky.

Your gaze flicked up as you worked. It was a habit from before you’d gotten the bell installed on your door to let you know if a customer had entered, so your gaze moved back to your work before you’d really processed anything you’d seen.

Then your brain caught up with your eyes and your head snapped back up.

There was a man standing in the middle of your store. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a fairy tale. His look was oddly monochrome- he had pale skin, white-blonde hair that curled around his ear and under his chin. Silvery antlers pulled back from his head and a shimmering scaled tail tufted with fur coiled and twitched behind him. His clothes were unreasonably fancy and not at all modern- his shirt was ruffled and he wore a heavy, furred cloak around his shoulders. Gems fairly dripped from his horns and the upper curve of his ears.

The little bell hadn’t even rung to announce his entrance. It was as if he had simply appeared in the room.

“Hello,” you said, whipping your glasses off and staring at him. “Can I help you with something?”

He regarded you with ice-blue eyes. His expression was utterly neutral. “I am looking for jewelry.”

Okay. Good start. Your eyes swept over his frame, assessing him as a customer. He was unfamiliar, but given his mannerisms and the general look of his clothes, he was wealthy. That was good- most of the pieces in your store weren’t made by you. There wasn’t enough of a market to buy your handmade pieces in most cases, which were priced high enough to drive away most typical buyers, and those who were rich enough to afford the splurge were few and far between. Most of the jewelry on the shelves was cheaper, more mass-produced pieces. It wasn’t exactly something you were proud of, but it kept the roof over your head.

He wasn’t looking at any of those pieces, though. He had beelined right for the well-lit display case that showed all your custom jewelry. You slipped out from behind the counter and hurried over to him. “See anything you like?”

His gaze swept over the case. “I am not sure.”

“Well, I also take commissions, so if you want a specific design, I can do that for you,” you said eagerly. Commissions were uncommon, but very much appreciated. You could charge a little more for them and you didn’t have to account for the shelf time.

The man turned toward you. His gaze locked with yours and a chill slipped down your spine. Holy shit. With a sudden clenching in the pit of your stomach, you knew that this wasn’t an ordinary monster of Fortune Falls. This was one of the Old Ones.

The Old Ones were not necessarily old individuals, though, even though the one in front of you appeared to be in his twenties, he could be ancient. It was their species that were old, though, ones that had existed before civilization and kept to those old ways. They radiated powerful magic and rarely interacted with humans at all. Even other monsters were uncomfortable around them.

You had only seen one once before, an ancient golden dragon. You steeled your will. A customer was a customer. Even if Old Ones had an irritating habit of paying in extremely outdated currency- you would be lucky if he paid with something from the modern millennium.

“A specific design,” the man repeated, drawing you out of your daze. You nodded attentively.

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” you said. The man exhaled slowly. He had the expression of someone unused to interacting with others- he didn’t seem to be holding a stern expression because he actually felt stern, but more because he had completely forgotten you were supposed to change your expression to let others know what you were feeling. “Maybe you could tell me what the jewelry is for and I can give you some suggestions.”

The man turned back to the display case. “It is for a funeral.”

“Oh,” you said. “For, ah. For you or for the, erm. Deceased?” It was not the first time someone had come to your shop looking for jewelry to bury someone in.

“Deceased.” There was no emotion in the man’s voice, but it was not the lack of emotion of the passionless. It was the sound of someone who had been exercising their emotions so much they didn’t have anything left to give. Pity stirred in your chest.

“Well, I’m sure we can find you something nice,” you said. “There are a lot of nice pieces here.” You gestured broadly at the wall of jewelry. The man peered at the necklaces lining the bottom row. His tail weaved back and forth, flowing like a river.

After a moment, he shook his head. His curls swayed, brushing against his chin and over the tips of his ears. “No,” he said. “Something else.”

You froze, waiting for his next move. Instead of turning toward the door, he turned toward you. You let out a sigh of relief. “Would you like something made specifically for you, sir?”

He lowered his chin in the slightest of nods. A faint flicker of bitterness invaded your mind before you shoved it away; the idea that you were going to make something that was going to have exactly one showing before it was being shoved underground wasn’t something you were overly pleased about. Then again, plenty of the extremely rich had pieces of jewelry made for them only to cram it into a closet after one night out. This was a little more important than that, wasn’t it?

“It would need to be elaborate,” he said. “Something worthy of my mother.”

You sucked in a breath through your teeth. “I’m sorry for your loss,” you said. “I can sketch up a few designs overnight and you can come back tomorrow to look at them. We can work from there.”

The man’s head dipped in a slow nod. “I will see you then.” Not waiting for any response, he whirled, cape swirling around him, and headed out the door.

The bell still didn’t ring. You glared at it until the man left, then pulled out your stepladder and went to check on it. When you tapped it, it jingled merrily. Hm. Weird. You moved the ladder away and experimentally swung the door open and closed. The bell rang every time. Okay. Really weird. But you had more important things to do.

You placed the stepladder away again and sat behind the front counter. There was a sketchpad situated under the desk for situations such as this. Usually, you had a little more idea what the customer wanted. You kicked yourself for not asking any more questions. He had left before you could get some clarification. You sketched out a few designs, most of them similar to ones you already had on the shelf. They were pretty, of course- all your jewelry was nice, and it tended to be difficult to make shiny things look that bad. But they almost certainly weren’t what your client wanted.

Night fell. You closed up your shop, but stayed in the back, eating takeout. You had an apartment, but it was barely bigger than your shop and you spent so much time here that you’d just moved a couch and some blankets into the back room, just in case you wanted to crash for the night. Really, the only practical use your apartment had was that it had a shower you could be sure no one else was using. Given your cooking skills, it was probably safer if you didn’t have access to a kitchen.

You sketched on the pad late into the night, growing more and more frustrated the longer you tried. Nothing seemed to be coming out right, and the things that looked kind of good were too reminiscent of stuff you’d already made.

Grimacing, you rolled your stiff neck and shifted your position. One of your legs was starting to fall asleep. Maybe you should just go to bed. Your mind wasn’t getting any clearer the later you stayed up, and maybe you would get an idea in your dreams. It wasn’t common, but it was better than just sitting around and waiting for inspiration to strike.

You leaned your head back, eyes closing for a moment. The image of the man swam back to your mind. He had been rather beautiful. The silvery sheen of his tail had been almost mesmerizing. It reminded you of sunlight gleaming off flowing water, or maybe oozing mercury. And his multi-pointed horns, glittering with gems had been striking as well.

Inspiration slammed into your mind like a lightning bolt. A sizzling, frenetic energy jumped through your veins. The idea seized you with a frightening ferocity. You had felt this before, the few times when an idea had seized you with a creative fervor. There was no way you were going to be sleeping now. Instead, you scrambled for another piece of paper. You needed to get this down before the idea faded.

It took you well over an hour of sketching, erasing, and fine-tuning before you’d worked the design into something you were happy with. Once it was done, you collapsed into bed, not even bothering to change your clothes. Sleep swept over you in an immediate wave.

You woke late enough that you barely had time to throw on another set of clothes and snag a granola bar before you had to open the shop. Fortunately, the design you’d made the night before still looked good in the morning light. The amount of times you’d written something in a sleep-hazed frenzy only to wake up and discover that it was absolute garbage was uncomfortable to even think about.

Despite your somewhat unkempt appearance and your tiredness, you still managed to make a couple sales. One of them was an engagement ring, one of your own designs, which had you feeling quite proud for the rest of the day. You added a few finishing touches to your sketches with a flush of enthusiasm. The day was nearly over, but the man hadn’t showed up again.

Someone cleared their throat right in front of you. You startled, knocking over a stack of coins and watched as they rolled under your counter. “Dammit.” Grimacing, you looked up.

The man was standing over you. He watched as one of the coins rolled in a neat circle next to his foot and fell over. “You should pay more attention,” he said. He stooped and picked the coin up, placing it delicately on the counter. “It is bad customer service to leave a customer waiting.”

“There’s supposed to be a bell,” you muttered under your breath. If he heard you, the comment didn’t bother him. He watched as you scrambled to pick up the few coins you could see. You could get the ones under the desk later; it wouldn’t do to go crawling around on your hands and knees in front of an important customer.

“I have the sketches,” you said. “There’s a little area we can sit in over here.” You led him over to the small alcove, separated from the rest of the shop by curtains. It was basically just a table in an area that would give the two of you a little privacy. Not that it was terribly necessary- there wasn’t anyone in the shop. But it was nice.

The man swept over to the table and paused. You looked where he was looking and paused. There were two chairs at the table and both of them had tall backs that left no space for a tail. “I might have a stool somewhere,” you said. “Hold on.”

The man lifted his hand, revealing long, elegantly manicured fingernails. “No need. I will be fine.” He sat a little awkwardly, tail curling across his lap. You hesitated for a moment, then sat across from him.

“So, I have a few sketches that I wanted to show you,” you said, spreading them across the table. The man reached out and picked up a few of them, looking over them with a critical eye. His expression was utterly emotionless. You swallowed uncomfortably. It was always weird to have someone looking at your art right in front of you.

Each drawing was examined and he placed it on the table in front of you. The stack of rejected drawing kept getting higher. The back of your neck tickled with sweat. Was he going to like any of them?

He reached the bottom of the pile and paused. Right. Your final drawing. You sucked on your lower lip. His expression was still unreadable. Finally, he placed the drawing on the table in front of you. “This one,” he said in a soft voice, tapping a finger in the center of the drawing.

It was the design you’d based off his antlers. You nodded, sweeping it back off the table. “Great. So, next we’ll need to pick the base metal color. I’ve got a few of them. There’s silver, gold, platinum…” You spread the sample metals across the table in front of them. His gaze swept over them for a moment, then he tapped the platinum band. “Okay. Good. Are there any specific colors you want in it? I’ll try to match the colors as well as I can, and you’ll get approval at all stages.”

The man sat back in his seat. For the first time, you saw a flicker of discomfort cross his face. “Blue,” he said after a moment.

You noted the color down on your pad and gathered your drawings back together. “Great. That should look nice.” You glanced into his face. His expression was still fairly emotionless, but you thought you were getting better at seeing the subtle tension on his face that indicated changes in expression. There was a tension around his eyes and a tightness around his lips that made him look tired. The sort of blank, weary tiredness of someone who was struggling to keep going. “Um. When do you need this by?”

“Four days from now,” he said. “Is that acceptable?”

“It’ll be a rush job,” you said automatically, then cringed. That felt insensitive. The weariness in his face grew a little more present as he bowed his head in a small nod.

“That will be extra?” he said. He started to reach for his pocket, but you waved your hands hurriedly.

“Uh, no, no. It’ll be fine. No extra charge.” It was probably a bad decision. There was a reason you charged extra for rush orders. But he looked exhausted and if it was for a funeral, he was likely going through a lot. It felt wrong to add onto that.

The man stared at you for a moment. He said nothing, but there was gratitude in his expression. “How much do I owe you?”

You told him the price. He reached into his pocket for a moment, then extracted several bills. You held your breath as he handed them over. Bills was a good sign. You’d once been paid exclusively in heavy gold coins and it had been impossible to find a bank that would exchange them for actual currency.

After a moment, in which you were able to reassure yourself that yes, the bills were all modern, you tucked the money into your pocket. “The rest I’ll want upon delivery,” you said. “This is just an advance.” The man nodded. “Also, I’ll need your name.”

“Solomon,” he said. He gave no last name. You didn’t bother to ask for one.

“Then I’ll see you in a few days for pickup.” You smiled at him. He gave a small bow and swept back out the door.

As it turned out, you saw him much sooner than that. You closed the shop slightly early and started heading back home. It wasn’t the best idea, to take a full night off when you had a rush order you needed to complete, but you were starting to feel a little gross. It was time to get some food that was slightly better than takeout.

The air was chilly and it was drizzling as you walked across the street and headed toward your apartment building. Then you came to a stop, squinting at the man standing in a tiny alcove of trees. His clothes were ostentatious and he looked more than a little out of place, like a prince crouching in a stable. His head was tilted back, staring up at the rain dribbling from the sky. It trailed in little rivulets down his sharp features.

“Solomon?” you said before you could think better of it. He lowered his head and turned to face you. His expression was solemn, but there was a new level of exhaustion in it. It looked more like he was too tired to make any expressions other than weariness.

He nodded to you. “Hello.”

You paused, a little awkward. He didn’t seem overly keen to talk, but he wasn’t exactly moving away from you either. “What are you still doing here?”

Solomon closed his eyes and swayed unsteadily. Automatically, you darted forward to try to catch him. At the same moment, he stuck a hand out to prop himself up on a nearby tree. You collided, his hand fumbling awkwardly through the air until it came to a rest on your shoulder. There was a moment of stumbling as you adjusted to his weight. He was heavier than he looked. His tail wrapped around one of your legs as he struggled to catch himself again.

After a few moments of fumbling, the pair of you managed to find a balance. His weight pressed down on you, leaving you panting with the effort of holding him upright. “Are you okay?” you managed.

Solomon’s chest expanded against you as he took in a deep breath. One of his hands pressed against a tree trunk and he slowly lifted himself back up. “I’m all right,” he said. His eyes closed, but this time, he didn’t sway dangerously. He just let out a deep sigh.

You slid away from him, relieved to have his weight off your back. “Are you sure?” You hesitated for a moment, debating the pros and cons, then kept talking. “Do you… do you need some help?” The words came out of you slowly. You didn’t have a lot of experience trying to give other people your assistance; you were solitary by nature and rarely gave or asked for help.

Solomon closed his eyes for a moment. His long, snow-white lashes nearly touched his cheekbones. “I am just tired. I have not been home in some time.” There was a terrible weariness in his voice, like each word was a struggle to get out of his mouth.

“Do you need help getting there?” you said. Honestly, you weren’t sure how you could actually help him get home. Didn’t most of the Old Ones live in the mountains? You didn’t even have a car.

“No,” he said. “I…” He hesitated, then ducked his head a little, looking intently at the ground at his feet. “I have not been home because I do not want to go back.”

The awkward silence grew thicker. You cleared your throat. “Er. Is it because of your mom, or…?”

His lips curled up to show the slightest flicker of fang. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again. “Er.” A suggestion floated across your mind. “You could come to my apartment for a bit. You look tired.” The instant the idea left your lips, you felt stupid. You were tired too, and you didn’t really feel up to entertaining a stranger, much less an Old One who likely had never been in an apartment building. On the other hand, leaving him alone on the street felt gross too. Well, he probably wouldn’t take you up on the offer anyway-

“I would appreciate that,” he said. “After you.” He gestured to the sidewalk in front of you.

Well. Okay. This was happening. You walked ahead of him, trying frantically to remember the last time you’d vacuumed. Had it been last weekend? Hard to say. It honestly kept slipping your mind. Oh, god, when had you last dusted? Did Old Ones care about stuff like that?

In no time at all, you were at the front door to your building. You fumbled with your keys for a moment before your door clicked open. Solomon stepped into your building with an expression of mild curiosity.

There was nothing fancy about the lobby to your building. There was a threadbare rug and a slightly shoddy desk in a corner. The doorman, a medusa with massive snakes coiling around his head, looked up. His eyes fell on Solomon sweeping in behind you and he raised is scaled brows. You mouthed ‘tell you later’ and headed for the elevator.

Solomon looked momentarily confused when you gestured for him to follow you inside, but he stepped in regardless. You tapped your floor button and the elevator doors slid shut.

You were already braced for the weird jolt that happened every time the elevator started, but you’d completely forgotten that Solomon wasn’t. He seized your elbow as the floor juddered under your feet. His expression was smooth, but his grip on your arm was tight.

“It’s okay,” you said. “It’s just an elevator.” You couldn’t tell if he understood what an elevator was, but your lack of concern seemed to appease him. His grip on your elbow loosened, though he didn’t remove his hand.

Solomon brushed past you to get off the elevator once it stopped, giving it a suspicious look over his shoulder. You bit your tongue. Do not laugh at the powerful monster. Even if he is looking at the elevator like it might jump at him.

You jostled the lock a few times before your door swung open. Solomon was tall enough to just look over your shoulder into your fairly tiny apartment. It only had a couple of rooms, and both of them could be charitably described as cozy. You scrambled to grab a few of the carelessly-tossed bits of packaging that hadn’t yet made their way to the garbage can and pushed them out of sight. You had definitely forgotten to dust for a while; Solomon picked up one of your books, then hurriedly ducked his head into his elbow to sneeze.

“Sorry. I don’t come here all that often,” you said. Solomon sniffed and put the book back down.

“I have never been inside a human dwelling before. Are they all so…” He trailed off, looking around the room. “So compact?”

“They’re not if you have more money,” you said. “Um. I can get you something to eat or drink? Or get you something to make you more comfortable? You can sit, if you want.”

Solomon scanned the room and his eyes fell on the small, but fairly cushy, couch. He approached it slowly, then, after testing the cushions with a hand, sat down.

It was strange to see him seated on your overly-plush couch. The heavy fur ruff of his cloak and the fine regality of his face were at odds with the barely maintained shabbiness of your apartment. It was like looking at a historical reenactor on break. It just looked off.

“So, uh,” you said, fumbling for something to do with your hands. “How are you doing?”

It was a dumb question, but you were having trouble coming up with things to say. Solomon looked at you. There was something glassy in his expression. You paused in your aimless fidgeting.

“I am…” The words seemed to take considerable effort. He closed his eyes and swayed. You placed the mug you’d grabbed on the counter, fully prepared to lunge for him if he showed signs of fainting.

Fortunately, he only swayed for a moment before his eyes opened again and he slumped back into your cushions. “I have had a long few days,” he said.

“Yeah?” You picked the mug back up and slid it into your coffee maker. You had no idea if he would like it, but you felt like you needed some. “Do you, uh, want to talk about it?”

He gave you a stony look. “Do you know who I am?”

It was such an unbelievably douchey question spoken with such earnestness that you snorted. “No. Not really. You haven’t told me much.”

“I am the Lord Solomon, ruler of the lands from the town to the eastward river,” he said. The words were grand, but his tone was bored. “My mother’s death places me at the top of the line of succession. There had been an enormous amount of political posturing.”

You nodded slowly, trying to process what he was saying. “I wasn’t aware this area had a lord.”

“It may be a bit above mortal understanding,” Solomon said. “We operate outside mortal laws, and our ownership of the land does not fall in line with your understanding.” He flexed his fingers and clenched them into fists repeatedly. His tail twitched back and forth. “Indeed, these past couple of weeks have been stressful.”

“I’m sorry about that,” you said honestly. You picked up your mug, now filled with steaming coffee, and walked over to the couch. He looked up at you as you sat next to him. His eyes flicked toward the mug and you saw him sniff the air curiously. “It’s coffee,” you said. “Do you want some?”

“Yes,” he said. “I know what coffee is.” Your hand was already sort of extended toward him, so he easily reached out and took it from you. Before you could do anything other than stare in surprise, he had tilted it up to his mouth and drained it in a few quick gulps. “Thank you.”

There was one of the Old Ones sitting on your couch and he had just stolen your coffee. Presumably, it would be a very bad idea to yell at him, but you still kind of wanted to. “Okay,” you said in a barely-restrained voice, “Cool. I guess I did offer.”

Solomon caught the irritation in your tone. “I am truly grateful for your assistance. I will admit that I was unwilling to return home.”

“It probably feels weird that she’d not there anymore, right?” you said. Solomon looked at you for a moment, then gave a tiny, hesitant nod. “I know how that feels.” You paused, swallowing hard. “I lost my dad five years ago now. It was rough. I can’t imagine having to deal with lordship on top of all that.”

Solomon kept looking at you with wide eyes. He didn’t seem to believe that you, a lowly mortal human, could comprehend his feelings. You decided to wait until he was feeling better to be insulted by that. “I am sorry for your loss,” he finally said, sounding a little more robotic than sincere. You decided he probably didn’t get out much.

“It’s okay. It was a while ago.” You leaned back on the couch. “You want to talk about it?”

Solomon kept staring at you. “Talk about it?”

“You know. Say all the stuff you’re feeling. It might help,” you said. He kept looking at you. The concept seemed entirely foreign to him. “Um. Like. How are you feeling right now?”

He looked at you for a long, uncertain moment. “Tired,” he finally said. “I am tired. Of trying to manage land squabbles. Of trying to plan my mother’s funeral. From dealing with all the new responsibilities my position entails.” He rubbed his forehead. “And I miss her. I miss being able to see her. I miss being able to speak with her about her responsibilities. I miss hunting with her.” His voice choked and he made a gulping noise that seemed to surprise him. you reached out and tentatively patted his shoulder.

“I know. It’ll get better. But it’s gonna hurt for a long while,” I said. “It’s gonna be hard.” Solomon gave an absent nod, looking down at his cup. “You know, there’s a grief counseling support group in town. If you want to go to it sometimes, I can take you there. I go there still, when it’s bad.”

Solomon looked blank. “A support group?”

“It’s a group of people who all lost someone important to them who get together and talk about their feelings. And they all help each other. You can learn a lot about dealing with grief from going. And sometimes hearing about other people’s problems can make it easier to deal with your own.” Solomon blinked a few times. His eyes were abruptly watery and you realized you weren’t entirely sure how to deal with him suddenly breaking into tears in your living room. You patted his shoulder awkwardly. “It might help? I think? I know you’re not like most of us, but it could still be good. I don’t think grief is all that different across species.”

He inhaled slowly. There was a little tremble in it, like he was still dangerously close to crying. “I think I would like that,” he said. His voice was quiet, but firm.

“Okay,” you said. “It meets Wednesdays.” You paused. “Do you know what Wednesdays are?”

He snorted. “I have a concept of human time.”

“Oh,” you said. “Okay. Good.” You sat in silence for a few more moments. There was still tiredness in the set of Solomon’s shoulders, but he looked more at peace than he had a few moments ago.

Eventually, he got to his feet. “I should return home,” he said. “I will see you again.” He paused. “And thank you.”

“No problem.” You stood up and started to lead him toward the door. “We support each other, you know?” He nodded.

You stayed up for a while after he left your apartment. It felt strange, that such a conversation had taken place between you and an Old One. They seemed so ancient and remote, and yet you had just had a conversation with one on the loss of a parent. And he had seemed utterly normal.

Odd. Not unpleasant, just… odd.

Your shop was quiet the next day, so you spent much of it working on the commission. Your thoughts were occupied with Solomon. How something so powerful had managed to look so vulnerable- it stuck with you.

Solomon didn’t show up for the next few days, which gave you some time to finish the necklace. It was good work, in your opinion, sturdy and beautiful. The long, antler-like branches were designed to rest on the clavicles and twist up the throat.

The necklace was done in time for the meeting on Wednesday, so you packed it into a box and took it with you to your apartment. You usually brought some sort of food with you to the meetings. It seemed polite, and people usually enjoyed it.

When you emerged from your apartment, Solomon was standing there. He was still wearing his heavy robes, with the thick fur ruff, and it was attracting a lot of stares. He didn’t seem to notice it. His eyes locked onto you as soon as you emerged from the building.

“Hello,” he said. “We are still going together, yes?” Despite his serious expression, there was a note of hesitancy in his voice.

“Yeah, we are,” you said. “Come on. I’ll show you the way there.”

It was a cozy little building that the meetings took place in. There were only four other people in the group, and they all stared at Solomon when he walked in. You gave an awkward wave. “Hey. Uh, this is Solomon. We met, uh, recently, and he wanted to come to the meeting.”

The man who led the group, a bulky and intimidating werewolf, locked eyes with you. His confusion and shock were blatantly written across his face. You tried to communicate your own surprise and bewilderment at the situation, but it was difficult when his eyes kept going back to Solomon. Thankfully, the Old One didn’t seem to have noticed. He just crossed the room and took one of the seats.

The meeting went as usual, except for everyone’s glances at Solomon. If he was bothered by their constant staring, he didn’t show it. You occasionally reached out to pat his hand or his leg. Everyone stared when you did that, like you were casually touching the sun itself. He didn’t speak much, except to give the bare basics of his story. But he paid intent attention to the stories of others, apparently interested in what they were saying.

“So,” you said as you stepped outside after the meeting, “how was that?”

“Interesting,” Solomon said. “Everyone just talked about their loved ones and their feelings.”

“Yeah. It helps to talk about the people you love and how you’re dealing with everything. It helps to know there are other people who care,” you said. “Oh, and, uh, by the way, I brought this with me.” You reached into your pocket and removed the small box.

Solomon delicately opened it and looked down at the necklace. He traced its lines with a finger. His lashes fluttered as he blinked rapidly. “She- My mother would have liked it.”

His voice broke. You leaned into his side, letting him rest some of his weight against you. His tail twined around your leg, as if seeking comfort. “You can cry. Remember? We said it was good to cry.”

Solomon shuddered and tears started to drip down his cheeks. He cried in silence, leaning on you heavily. You allowed him to, only speaking to soothe him.

Eventually, he petered out. You offered him a pack of tissues. He mopped at his face. “Thank you,” he said, voice rusty.

“Of course. Like I said, it’s good to have other people you can count on.” You patted his arm gently.

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath. “I was wondering. The funeral is… soon. Perhaps, if you were willing, you would come with me?” You stared. “You do not need to feel obligated. It is just- you have helped me, recently. I feel that it would be nice to have someone there who understands.”

“Sure,” you said. “I’d be okay with that.” Solomon nodded, then reached into his pocket. He retrieved a wad of cash from his pocket and handed it to you. Your mouth dropped open. It was mostly fifties, with several hundred bills wadded up in the middle. “This… I think this is more than we agreed on.”

“You have given me a greater gift than just the necklace, so I feel that I should pay you back in kind.” Solomon squeezed your shoulder. “Thank you. I will see you again soon.”

His form rippled and extended into a massive, serpentine dragon. Its scales reflected opalescently in the sunlight and his antlers gleamed like metal. There were gasps around you, but your eyes were fixed only on him. He looked back at you with a surprising amount of affection for a draconic face, then he swooped upward and vanished. You stared as he vanished into the sky, awe swelling in your chest. “See you again soon,” you said, half to yourself. “And thank you, too.”

#exophilia #dragon #dragon boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster lover #dragon lover

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dalamjisung · 4 years

Text

dancing in the moonlight ✾ kim yugyeom

word count: 1946

genre: slice of life, fluff, dancer!yugyeom

member: yugyeom x reader

description: he needs to go home... even if for a second, you doubt that might be you. you miss your boyfriend, and he misses you, too– he misses his family– and even if takes you all night, you’ll remind him that no one left, and no one ever will.

You are tired– exhausted, really. It’s been days of getting home from work, hoping for some take away and quality time with your boyfriend, only to find him gone. He’s been technically unemployed for almost three weeks now, and you remember thinking about all the thing you’d be finally able to do with him– all the shows you’d get to watch, all the late morning cuddle sessions, all the late night talks; everything.

Four days. Four days is how long he lasts inside. On the fourth night, when you get home from work, excited with earlier promises of take away and Descendants of the Sun, he is not there. You try his cellphone but he doesn’t pick up and with only a few texts to the group chat with the other boys and girls you find out he is also not with any of them.

Bambam is the one that suggests the dancing studio– the one a few blocks from your house. Yugyeom always liked your apartment, and you know that it’s always been partially because of that studio; he likes how it reminds him of younger days, when he used to dance the night away, too busy with school during the day. The night was my time to shine, he always told you, reminiscing. Just like suggested, there he is, in his usual room; his body moves fluidly to the song, and you can smell the sweat before you can see it. It’s dark, only light coming in is from outside– the lampposts’ glimmer floods the room, softening his steps, tracing his moves, but it’s almost like the moon is his spotlight. The white light crashes with the yellow glow and he looks more ethereal than ever. Being an idol meant constant rehearsal and practice and even though it was still dancing, it’s not the same; it’s tiring, and repetitive, and controlled. It lacks the creative flow that he likes, and many times Yugyeom complained about not enjoying it anymore, the dancing; but from the smile you see shine in his face as the song stops and he finishes the routine, you’d say he’s found it again– his passion.

“Well don’t you look handsome,” You say, walking the room only to lean against the mirror, looking straight at him.

“Y/N,” He breathes out, chuckling a bit. “What are you doing here, baby?”

“I remember someone promising me food and cuddles,” You pout, biting your smile back as you see his eyes go wide. “But I got home to an empty apartment.”

“I am so sorry!” He gasps, running to get his backpack. “Let’s go! I’ve been here for a few hours, already…”

You nod, letting him pull you out and back to your building, but not before sending the studio a longing glance, mind wandering to an image of Yugyeom holding you in his arms, swaying peacefully, lovingly, from side to side. He always told you he’d teach you how to dance…

Tonight, though... tonight he’s been taking his sweet, sweet time coming back home. Usually he’d be back after three or four hours, around 9 or 10PM; you are starting by the time he’s home, but usually you can wait for him, wanting to enjoy his company more than anything. Not tonight, however– because you’ve waited, you didn’t eat, and now you are not only tired and frustrated, you are also nauseous. By the time you make it to the studio, you have tears in your eyes; Yugyeom is not the best with words, you know that. He gets embarrassed easily and likes to joke around, so hearing emotional things from him is almost impossible, but he’s never failed with his actions; he’s always shown you how much he loves you, so you never really doubted him. And you don’t doubt him now, but some days more than others you need a little extra loving, a little more affection.

“… two, three, four,” You hear him mumbling from outside the room, the door ajar since there is no one in the building anymore. “And five, six–“

“Hey,” You interrupt. He is mid move and loses his footing when he looks at you, stumbling forward. “It’s late.”

“What?” Yugyeom frowns, walking to where his phone is charging on the ground. 1:36AM. “Oh shit…”

“Yeah,” You sigh, and maybe your voice trembled a bit too much, or he just heard you sniffle, but soon Yugyeom has you in his arms, face lowering to look into your eyes.

“Babe, why are you crying?” He mumbles. “I’m sorry I lost track of the time, I was dancing and got this idea and–“

“I know how it goes,” You whisper, shuffling closer to his sweaty body. “And I don’t want to interrupt, but Yugs, it’s time to come home.”

“I just need one–“

“No, no,” You say softly, burying your head on his chest. “Home. Let’s go home, please.”

“You can go ahead, baby,” He chuckles, but you hear how hollow it is– how lifeless it sounds. “I’ll be there in an hour or two, tops.”

“No, you don’t understand,” You try again, but you don’t think you understand it either; you have absolutely no clue what is happening to him, and, consequently, to you. “We– You have to go home, Yugyeom. A-And I don’t mean my apartment, if you don’t want t-to, if that’s not home; but you have to go home.”

“What are you talking about…?” Your boyfriend pulls back slightly, frowning in confusion. You can feel his hands shaking on your shoulders, and after the first sob breaks out, you can’t stop. “Y/N, what are you talking about?”

“Am I… Am I not home?” You gulp, taking a step back. The deaf thud of his hands falling by him side makes you wince. “It’s just… ever since the end of the contract you’ve been distant. Far away. I barely see you, and I think you’re just n-not comfortable, you know? I think you just need to go home.”

“You are home!” He snaps, and you’ve never seen him this exasperated. “You are home, Y/N, you have to be! You’re all I have left!”

And there it is.

There it fucking is.

“Baby,” You mumble, softly, heartbroken. You should’ve known– you should’ve known that he feels alone. Yugyeom was raised by his hyungs, ever since he was a too tall, too young of a child that just wanted to dance. All the milestones, all the failures, the lessons, all the accomplishments– I was all with them; and now, after a signing a new solo contract with AOMG, it makes sense that he is freaking out. So yeah, you should’ve known.

“I-I don’t mean it like that,” He sighs, rubbing this face in frustration. His legs slowly bring him to the floor, where he sits, resting his face on his hands; you only know he’s crying because of the rhythmic movement of his shoulders. “I don’t mean it like you are my last option, I’d never–“

“It’s okay,” You whisper, lowering yourself so you can crawl to him, taking him in your arms. His wide shoulders fall on you and it breaks your heart when you hear him sob. “I know what you mean– I got you.”

“Everything is new,” He whispers, hands holding yours, back against your chest. From the way his body sags, muscles tired and overworked, you know he is absolutely exhausted. “And exciting. But… it’s kind of lonely. I-I tried talking to Bam about this, but he was busy; Jaebeom hyung has his photoshoots and Mark hyung is back in LA, so it’s really hard finding time to call. Youngjae hyung and Jinyoung hyung are already on their schedules, and Jackson hyung is… I don’t even know what he is, to be honest, he’s been doing literally everything. And I’m here– dancing alone.”

“Yugyeom,” You whisper, mouth on top of his head. The sweatiness of his hair should be enough to make you keep a distance, but not even that can make you let go of his, and instead, you kiss his head, his cheek, his neck, his shoulder. Anywhere you can reach, really, because Yugyeom is not a man of words, no; he prefers actions– and you really need to show him some love right now. “You’re not alone, my love.”

“I know,” He sighs, furiously drying his face, to the point that you pull his hands down and gently resume what he was doing, yourself. “But… but it’s hard– it’s hard believing it.”

“We got a parcel today,” You say, caressing his head and enjoying the way he lets it rest on you. “A huge Wang Team box with the newest collection, by Mr. Wang himself.”

“Wha–“

“Jinyoung called, too,” You move, so that your back is against the wall, and you both can see your reflection on the mirror. “He wanted to show the pretty flowers he got from ahgase– said the tulips reminded him of you. Yesterday, Youngjae sent you a package… I think it was a suit for Dalkyum? I didn’t really understand, but the note said something about a park date with Coco.”

“Where… where was I?” He sits up, turning around. His eyes are tired, just like his body, but there is a going of something in them, of hope, and it makes you smile. “I didn’t see any of that.”

“You were here.”

You gesture around, arms open in the big, dark room, and something clicks.

“I pushed them away…?” He asks, voice bordering whiney. “I pushed you away?”

“No, love, you could never push us away,” You chuckle. “You simply… stayed away. You’re a focused artist, so we simply assumed you were working hard for your AOMG debut, but time passed and nothing changed. I miss you, Yugy. I come home from work hoping to see you, but you’re gone. And I also know how bored you must be in my tiny apartment, so I’m happy that you found a distraction, but how about we keep it to daytime? Balance is key, baby, and this way you’ll be able to dance, but you’ll still be able to enjoy they freedom you fought so much for.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” He mumbles, smiling sheepishly. “Come here.”

He pulls you to him by your feet, hands moving to your thighs until they grasp your waist. You two are a mess of limbs and when he kisses you, with all the contrasting softness from his dance moves, you melt, molding with him, allowing yourself to fall back in his familiarity. You missed it so damn much that the foreign excitement rises, but the comfort of him catches you, arms wide open for you to simply surrender. And you do– gladly.

“I love you,” He whispers a bit breathless. “So much.”

“I love you, too,” You peck his lips, squeaking as he suddenly gets up, pulling you after him. “What are you doing?”

He doesn’t let go of your hand, pulling you after him as he moves to the sound system, messing with his phone until a familiar tune starts to play. One hard pull on your hand has you stumbling his way, and he is quick to embrace you.

We get it almost every night

His soft humming on your ears is enough to make you smile wide, feet following his steps as you two start to move together.

When that moon is big and bright

It's a supernatural delight

“Y/N.”

“Hm?” You hum, not wanting to open your eyes, basking in the perfection of this moment.

“I missed you, too.”

Everybody's dancing in the moonlight

—————————————

Last on of the series oh my god 😢 I’m not sure if this is similar to Bam’s, but I feel like what would affect these two the most is missing his hyungs... What do you think of this one? Let me know! If you liked this story, please please please share, comment, like, or anything you feel comfortable doing ❤️ thank you for your endless support, lovelies💕

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iceshard1011 · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders Characters: Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Additional Tags: pre janus' photoshoot, he had no right looking that gorgeous okay, yeah literally got inspired by the fact that janus and roman wore the same lipstick, could be romantic or platonic, Insecurity, Self Confidence Issues, Deceit | Janus Sanders Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Sweetheart, who is only mentioned once, Making Up, (kind of), Hopeful Ending, Guilt, Makeover, In which i call myself a multishipper and then continuously go nuts over roceit, Ro goes from confused himbo to romance expert way too fast, and that's bias for you, Listen just because janus is self preservation doesn't mean he's got good self esteem, Janus ‘self care’ sanders: what is makeup, Fluff and Angst, Pre-Relationship Summary:

Janus needs to get ready for his turn for that stupid photoshoot idea Thomas offered him. He’s not exactly looking for help, but he gets it anyway.

And… maybe something more.

2k word fic under the cut :)

The mindscape hadn’t seen much of it’s self-proclaimed prince lately. It was painfully noticeable, given the halls weren’t being deafened by singing, and no one was as challengeable or as willing to bicker as much anymore. Patton’s smile was just this side of strained at breakfast. Logan would look up, eyes sparkling and eyebrow half-raised, the beginnings of something on his tongue before he would remember there was no one to say it to. Virgil kept sneaking sideways glances towards the staircase, as if no one could see him.

Not that Janus was bothered, of course. He had always preferred peace and quiet over chaos. He had just… become slightly acclimated to it during his years with Remus.

Except… it did make things exceptionally difficult when Janus needed something.

Even more so when he didn’t know exactly what it was he wanted.

Janus tried not to curl his lip too much as he stared at his reflection. Stupid sides and stupid Thomas and his followers and his own stupid thoughts. This looked wrong and felt wrong and Janus was a few seconds away from burning this damn —

An opening door. It creaked slightly, not enough that it was Virgil’s, but certainly not Logan’s. It was opened hesitantly, not something that Patton would have much reason for. Perfect.

Janus stuck to the shadows as he slunk down the hallway. It was unnecessary, as had been prefaced many times by the others — even Virgil had caught him at one point, in the middle of slithering silently into the kitchen for something to drink.

“You don’t have to do that,” Virgil had said. “You’re allowed to get something to eat.” (Janus had not pointed out that his throat had been parched and itching for water from a dying scream after flashing images had raped his sleeping mind.) “Plus, you look ridiculous skulking behind furniture like that, anyway.” Janus had flicked his tongue at him and left to get his water.

Roman hesitated at the top of the stairs before slowly making his way down. Janus didn’t know what he was looking for, but it didn’t seem to deter him. Once he was out of sight, Janus shot into his room, the door still creaking open.

What did he need? What was he going to need to put on? What were the requirements of this stupid activity?

He didn’t even know what he wanted. What would help? What would cover up enough that he fit the unspoken, stupid critera for these damn photos? What did foundation do? Would it dry his skin out? He was not in the mood to deal with brittle scales.

Lipstick. Roman had used lipstick in his photoshoot.

Janus shot forward and grabbed the first one of the display rack.

“Stealing now, are you?”

Janus whirled around, thankfully crushing the rather embarrassing squeak before it could escape.

“Oh, absolutely,” he purred, but the not-lie was immediately evident the moment Roman’s angry eyes trailed down to the lipstick clenched in his fist.

“You sly little —” The prince marched forward, face twisted dangerously, and despite himself, Janus found himself stepping backwards.

Roman wasn’t violent. He was brash, and impulsive, and when he pulled his sword on whatever startled him, but he had never, not once, used physical aggression to prove a point.

Janus found it hard to believe he would start now, but… Roman had never been driven to such a point before now.

And Janus was the reason.

It was when he had stalked close enough that their height differences were clear enough that under normal circumstances, Janus would be rather annoyed (now, however, he was only focusing on keeping his breath calm and his gaze level), that Roman seemed to notice the way Janus was dressed.

“What are you wearing?” he uttered, suddenly sounding far more confused than mad.

“Something that was certainly all my idea,” Janus hissed, waiting for the disbelieving eyebrow raise, for the look that said You? Really? Waiting, as tense as he had ever been, for more laughing.

Roman did nothing except manage to look even more lost. “Oh.”

Janus wasn’t sure if he felt irritated or guilty at the prince’s crestfallen look.

Irritated, apparently, as his thoughts began to hiss.

Oh, terribly sorry that I’ve been accepted like the rest of you. My apologies that I aim to help Thomas just like everyone else in this damn place. I am so sorry that for whatever godforsaken reason they asked me to put on these ridiculous —

“Well, hurry up and finish the look,” Roman said, as if resigning himself to a fate that no one asked him to.

Janus blinked at him.

Roman summoned a hand-held mirror and held it out towards him.

Janus didn’t quite say ‘what the hell’ — but it was close.

Roman seemed smart enough to read the baffled look on his face. “You can apply it here so I can be assured you will hand it back when you are done. I can’t trust someone like you to return it otherwise.”

“I’m sure you can replace a single stick,” Janus said, just slightly scathingly.

Roman didn’t seem discouraged. He expectantly held the mirror out further.

Janus’ stomach was writhing uncomfortably. He kept his face carefully blank, loath to betray how distasteful he found this, and glared at the mirror. He ignored the bemused look Roman gave him when he struggled with uncapping the lid, and fought against the slight tremors in his hand.

He didn’t get very far before Roman, looking absolutely scandalized, reared back like a startled horse. Janus paused when his mirror was yanked away and glared up at the prince.

“I would appreciate a limited amount of interruptions,” he began but Roman had already dumped the mirror and darted forward to snatch the lipstick from his hand. “Hey!”

“Why did you try applying it like that?” he cried. Janus shuffled, bewildered.

“I know exactly what you’re —”

“No, no,” Roman interrupted, waving his hands. “No. Stop. Come here.”

Janus bared his teeth. “Why?”

“You look like you’ve never applied makeup a day in your life,” Roman said, and suddenly Janus didn’t have any quips to reply with. Roman squinted. “You’ve never used makeup?”

“Because I have always had a reason to,” Janus snapped. Roman raised his hands, which surprised him.

“Right.” The prince beckoned again, but Janus remained rooted. What on earth was the moron trying to achieve?

Roman seemed to pick up on his hesitance, and leaned forward, quietly scrutinizing. Janus bit back on a snarl.

“When’s the shoot?” Roman asked.

“What?” Janus said, slightly more harsh than he intended.

“The photoshoot,” Roman clarified.

“Whenever I want,” Janus snapped.

Roman, rather than retorting, or recoiling, lit up. “Perfect!”

Janus slunk backwards. “What are you playing at, White Knight?”

A flash of confusion danced in Roman’s eyes for a split second before he lost himself in his excitement once more.

“Your makeup, Phantom of the Opera!” he shrilled, bouncing over to his vanity and pulling out the chair. “I’ll do it for the photoshoot! Come, sit, sit!” Janus narrowed his eyes. He didn’t move. Roman faltered. “Or… or not. I don’t —”

“Why?” Janus interjected.

“You can’t get dressed up without a little makeup,” Roman said with a smile.

“The others did,” Janus pointed out, but Roman waved him off.

“It’s imperative to feel good when you should be looking good!” He began to dig around in his draws, pulling out a variety of brushes and different coloured palettes. Janus didn’t know what any of them were for.

“What are you implying?” he asked slowly.

Roman paused long enough to level him with a skeptical look. “You, who came in here for makeup and got caught red handed… are trying to ask what I am getting at?”

Janus glared at him.

Roman gestured to the chair once more. “Sit.”

Sulking, Janus sat.

Roman studied him carefully for a moment before beginning to sort through his ridiculously large assortments of strange… makeup… things.

The prince started slowly, using an odd, coloured sponge, but Janus still flinched when the first cold sensation started to plaster his face.

Roman pulled back as well. “Sorry. Here, this is primer. It’s kind of like moisturiser.”

Janus’s tongue flicked in and out for a moment in consideration. Coming to a decision, he forced himself to sit still and allow Roman to start again. He must have realised Janus was still not entirely comfortable with this setting, so he began to offer what each tool was and what it did as he applied it to Janus’ face.

Primer, foundation, ‘concealer,’ whatever the hell that was…

It was quiet for a few minutes while Janus let Roman work before he finally had to speak.

“You’re… not doing my other side.”

Roman didn’t pause, moving to pick a different brush and palette. “Your scales?” he asked, focusing on where he was working. Janus found the lack of eye contact oddly comforting.

“Why aren’t you covering them up?” Janus asked.

Roman did halt, then, and lowered the brush. He frowned slightly. “Why would I want to?”

The earnest in his voice made Janus falter. The prince’s genuine confusion made his chest feel impossibly wide and too warm. Roman had already resumed his work, completely clueless to what he’d done.

You fucking himbo, Janus thought.

“Close your eyes for me,” Roman instructed. Janus frowned at him. Roman didn’t seem to understand that kind of action required an amount of trust that Janus certainly did not have for him yet. He elaborated with a beseeching, “Please?”

Janus’ eyes closed.

He could tell Roman was pleased when he got back to work. “Keep your eyes relaxed, but don’t open them, unless you want a bunch of brush bristles where they should not be.”

“Pleasant,” Janus remarked.

“Very,” Roman agreed sagely. Janus bit down the smirk.

It was quiet again, apart from Roman beginning to hum the beginnings of a song. Janus didn’t recognise it, and he wasn’t even sure Roman knew he was doing it. But it wasn’t unpleasant, so Janus let it be. The lack of silence was comforting against any awkwardness that could have remained.

Eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara.

Eventually, Roman leaned back, and beamed. “There.” He held up another — how many did he have? — handheld mirror. “Look!”

Janus looked.

Roman’s smile softened as he glanced between Janus’ face and his reflection. “You like it.” It wasn’t a question.

“How do you know?” Janus asked.

“I didn’t push any blush on your cheeks.”

Janus didn’t point out that Roman had moved his hand to Janus’ knee and it was burning through the skirt, but sure. Janus could agree that he didn’t hate the look Roman had given him.

Roman’s eyes scanned over Janus’ face once more, and this time Janus matched his gaze unwaveringly. A smile twitched at Roman’s lips, and the prince jumped.

“Oh! Almost forgot the whole reason this happened!” He twisted around and turned back, jabbing the lipstick at Janus’ face. It was jolting, and Janus jerked backwards against his own will. “Sorry, sorry.” Roman held a hand. “Come here, come back. I’ll be gentle, promise.”

Janus remained still as Roman lined his lips with the paint. The fingers pressed to the edge of his jawline rendered him rather useless against his instincts, anyway.

Roman’s eyebrows twitched downward for a second. He must have made a mistake, because he moved to carefully swipe a finger at the edge of Janus’ lips.

Goddamn it, this was such a mistake.

Janus swallowed.

Finally, after way too long how slow do you apply lipstick, Roman pulled back, seeming satisfied.

“Now you're ready for a photoshoot,” he decided.

Janus glanced back to his reflection. He still had some of his own details to add, but… yes. Janus could almost agree.

Roman went back to sorting through his various makeup supplies. Janus felt a little transfixed with the deft movements of the prince, how certain he moved, how he knew where everything needed to be. A confidence Janus had failed to see in… a very, very long time.

A sharp laugh, vicious and hurtful, the lie doing nothing to soften the blow —

Janus stood abruptly, the chair wobbling against the carpet. Roman glanced up. He seemed to remember where they had been before Janus’ makeover, and for a moment his eyes darkened. Janus braced himself for another argument.

Then Roman’s shoulders relaxed and he tilted his head. “Have fun,” he said. Then, after a moment, added, “You’ll kill it.”

Janus halted at the doorway before he could flee, taken off guard. He glanced down at the prince, who gifted him a small smile.

Janus didn’t smile back. He turned to study the doorway framework. “It would certainly be rather… dismal if you came down for dinner at some point tonight. Presumably, at the same time as everyone else.”

Roman raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, truly?” he said. His voice was warm.

Janus sighed theatrically. “Oh, I don’t know. I couldn't argue if you were to try to prove me wrong.”

Roman tossed his head. “Watch it, Noodles. You don’t want to defy a knight.”

“Perhaps not,” Janus mused, regarding a chip in the doorway’s wood. “But a hero never backs down from a challenge.”

He didn’t wait to see Roman’s expression. He wisped away down the hallway without looking back, without seeing what he could have just done.

Like a coward.

He may have just made things worse. He could have reversed everything that odd makeup session had built. He was well aware of the fact that if that was the case he should have kept his mouth shut.

But oddly, Roman’s silence hadn’t seemed heavy. He hadn’t tensed. He hadn’t shouted, or scowled, or slammed the door in Janus’ face.

Granted, Janus hadn’t given him a chance to, but…

As he slid into his room and quietly closed the door behind him, he didn’t feel horrible. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

Now. He set his gaze on his closet, still open and waiting. Where was his hat?

#sanders sides #roceit #janus sanders #roman sanders #long post #cross posted on ao3 #inspired by twitter #sanders sides fic #angst #janus is a sad boy #fluff #hopeful ending #literally someone has probably already done this #so. those skirt pics huh.#janus is unfairly pretty

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atimburtonfan · 4 years

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How Tim Burton influenced my life

I haven't posted very much on here in the past months so I tried to find the reason why and thus decided to write down how Tim Burton's films and art have influenced my life. I also like to divide his films into three distinct periods to explain how his works have changed over time and what might have been the catalyst behind this.

First period: 1982-1999/2000 These above mentioned years I like to classify as the first period of Tim Burton's films and fame. It started in 1982 with the production of his short animated film, Vincent. It was during this time that Tim Burton started to produce/direct films for a world wide audience and that he started to build up a name for himself.

The short films of Vincent, Frankenweenie and Hansel and Gretel are nowadays true Burton classics and show his distinctive style of art. The beginning of the 80's were basically the beginning of the imagery that nowadays people call Burtonesque. It's this period during which Tim Burton could truly be called an outcast in the film industry, making eclectic films that would captivate millions.

Each of the three periods is also defined by a woman and it was during the first period, 1992 to be exact, that Tim Burton and Lisa Marie met each other, they got engaged in the following year until the start of the second period which is defined by another female actress, the woman most people associate with the name Tim Burton.

In my opinion it was during this period that Tim Burton made his most personal and creative films, my all time favourite film was made during this period. It's clear that Tim Burton was able to express himself quite purely before he got influenced by the studio that once rejected him. Some of these personal and creative films include: Ed Wood, Mars Attacks, Beetle Juice, The Nightmare Before Christmas, Edward Scissorhands, Pee-wee and his adaptations of the Batman films.

It was also during this period that I was born and introduced to his films at an early age. The first Tim Burton film that I have ever seen was Mars Attacks, an underrated comedy that I still love to watch these days. Even though I saw his films during the 1990's, I never really concerned myself with learning the names of directors or even be remotely interested in the background of them or recognize their distinctive art styles.

Second period: 2000-2012 These years are what I like to call the 'golden age' of Tim Burton's fame and influence. During the late 1990's and early 2000's, alternative music such as metalcore, nu-metal, gothic and industrial metal started to become incredibly popular in mainstream culture. Many teens became obsessed with this type of music and it was especially the explosion of the Emo-culture that introduced many teens, including myself, to Tim Burton's distinctive artstyle.

Shops like Hot-Topic became incredibly popular and many people began to dress themselves as if they were a character of a Burton film. Therefore it isn't very surprising that Burtonesque merchandise started to appear in the same shops where Emo, alternative, gothic and metal teens liked to shop, further fueling his fame as the lonesome different gothic filmdirector.

Why 2000 you might wonder? As I have said earlier, each period is defined by a woman in his life and it was during this year that Tim Burton met Helena Bonham Carter on the set of Planet of the Apes. They quickly fell in love with each other that eventually resulted in them having two children and living inside two homes that were connected to each other. Helena Bonham Carter and Tim Burton together formed one of the most eccentric couples that Hollywood has ever seen and they were much beloved by their fans.

It was during this period that films such as: Corpse Bride, Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, Sweeney Todd, Big Fish, Alice In Wonderland, Dark Shadows, Planet Of The Apes and Frankenweenie were made. They captured the hearts of millions of people throughout the world who felt like an outsider in this society and gave them a place they could call home. This was the era of the golden trio, Burton, Depp and Carter.

I myself became an awkward gothic teen at the age of 12 when I first entered high school. It was a time before youtube, the internet was still a relative new thing therefore it was incredibly hard to get your hands on anything remotely Burtonesque. I can remember reading magazines of alternative shops like Large and the McFiber and begging my mother to buy me some stuff.

As I grew more awkward and awkward, eventually getting an autism diagnosis, I got deeper involved into the alternative scene. All of my friends were exactly the same, different, alternative and thrown out by mainstream society. Many of us had serious mental problems which resulted in self harming and even episodes of attempted suicide.

It was then that I started to find comfort in his works. I could identify myself perfectly with the characters of his works and I adored the image and lives of the adorable couple, Tim Burton and Helena Bonham Carter. I became truly obsessed with some of his films and started to finally learn English in order to write fanfictions about Sleepy Hollow. The alternative/emo scéne reached its highest moments during this period and it was almost fun to be that weird outsider who liked the art and films of Tim Burton.

Third period: 2013-present day This is what I like to call the decline of the alternative scéne and thus also the decline of Tim Burton's popularity. There are of course multiple reasons why Burton eventually became less popular but I think the most important reason is the fact that the alternative scéne is slowly dying. Most of us who were teens during the early 2000's have now grown up and most have shed off their unique gothic/ alternative/emo skins and entered adulthood life.

The internet has also changed. Platforms such as myspace, vampirefreaks and the countless of forums have died, these spaces were havens for alternative kids. Youtube was by then well introduced and started to commercialize quite badly, I honestly miss the times during which Youtube was just a free platform to share your videos without any intent to make money.

Like I said at the beginning, each period is defined by a woman in the life of Tim Burton and it was around the end of 2012 that the relationship between Burton and Carter started to wobble. It was also during this year that Eva Green made her debute in Dark Shadows. Rumours quickly rose that Eva and Tim were having an affair and in 2014, Tim Burton and Helena Bonham Carter separated, which was absolutely stunning news to their fans as they were long viewed as the ideal 'gothic' couple.

In my honest opinion, the quality of Burton's works started to drop dramatically after the separation. The period of the classic Burton/Carter films was now officially over and this era is defined by films such as: Miss Peregrine, Big Eyes and Dumbo. None of these films really felt like a classic Burton film and I feel like he has sold his soul and creativity to Disney. Where he once was the outcast, the one who opposed Disney in order to produce his own unique works, he is now fully part of the Disney company and his distinctive style is now barely visible.

He also has made barely any works since 2012, the aforementioned films are basically the only ones he directed since the last decade. At this current moment, there is no work in production, although there are rumours he is making a sequel to Beetlejuice and his own adaptation of the Addams Family but this can't be verified. Most of his original fanbase have grown up and either shed the alternative scéne skin entirely or are still stuck loving his older works.

I can place myself in between. Truth be told, I also lost most of my interest after 2012. I became an adult and the emo scéne I once loved so much, was now officially dead. I didn't like the films he produced after Frankenweenie (2012), it somehow lacked that classic Burton magic. Not to mention that Tumblr itself has also been dying, and still is.

I still love his early works very dearly and rewatch them quite often until this day. I have however stopped obsessing about them, with the exception of one film, Sleepy Hollow. Tim Burton created a home for teens and young adults who didn't fit into modern society. I was one of those teens and his films have really helped me get through an extremely difficult period of my life. He made me feel that I belonged to something and the weekends I have spent holding Tim Burton marathons with my alternative friends were the best moments in my life.

I'm so sorry for this incredibly long post but I wanted to try to explain how Tim Burton influenced my life and how this eventually led to me barely posting anything on this tumblr account in 2021. What do you think of Tim Burton currently? Do you agree with the three periods that I have defined?

#Tim Burton #Personal #Influence

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