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cafeseoulmate · 3 years ago

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idk what this lol i wanted to write a proper full-length fic but finals is beating my ass like crazy :”) anyway this happens in the same pjo au as kang taehyun’s hot boy summer destiny and references it a bit

child of aphrodite!beomgyu who’s also been recently declared the new cabin counselor because he has the best leadership skills among his half-siblings and is arguably the best charmspeaker anyone’s seen in camp for decades (as in he can almost rival his own mother it’s insane and his older half-siblings who’ve left camp long ago are really impressed). he’s also the friendliest and bubbliest out of all of his half-siblings (if that were even possible), a true social butterfly like his mom.

but also beomgyu who likes going on quests with child of athena!taehyun and child of hermes!yeonjun until taehyun finally confessed to his childhood best friend recently, so now it’s mostly just beomgyu and yeonjun. occasionally, child of apollo!hueningkai would join them if he’s not on another quest with his other half-siblings along with child of poseidon!soobin who, contrary to popular belief, actually leaves his post at the infirmary every once in a while.

beomgyu who is exceptionally skilled in using a bow and arrow because he has beef with both eros and anteros on who is the best archer since he was a child (though the gods have already long discussed this among themselves before that it’s one of apollo’s children. no one has the heart to tell any of the three, though). his shots are always lethal and precise and he’s been invited numerous times by his own half-siblings and the entire apollo cabin to lead classes in the summer. he only assists here and there, though, since he doesn’t think he’s that good at explaining things, especially something that he’s been doing for most of his life and feels like second nature to him.

(beomgyu underestimates himself. he’s actually really good at teaching, especially the younger kids.)

but outside of duels and fights, beomgyu would rather spend most of his days making music and drawing at the arts and crafts pavilion, getting inspired by his last quest in the outside world or on a long walk in the woods after breakfast. though he is a skilled fighter (and definitely has a big advantage with his mastery of charmspeak), he thinks his strengths lie more in translating his love of people and his surroundings in art and music. he’s just a child of his mother who’s so full of love so of course he’ll channel it somewhere peacefully and creatively. in his free time, beomgyu’s usually playing guitar with taehyun and humming an original song or sketching trees and portraits in his sketchbook where all creative streams of thought go.

oh and, of course, as a child of aphrodite, he’s always receiving all sorts of love declarations regardless of what season it is. love letters, chocolates, sweets, trinkets, gifts, public declarations at every turn on the training grounds, and even a bold, “i love you,” carved to a tree one time (much to the demeter cabin’s horror). beomgyu’s seen it all, he thinks, and he’s very flattered. heck, at times, he even relishes in the admiration people have for him because what child of aphrodite wouldn’t? he’s still his mother’s son so of course it’s a bit of an ego boost.

but these days, he’s only looking forward to a gift (a letter, to be exact) from one person—you, a child of demeter and a long-time friend of his.

you, the kid who first came to camp on the same night as he did because you happened to be getting chased by the same army of harpies. you, the kid he stuck with even after you both got claimed by your respective godly parents because you were familiar faces to each other. you, one of his go-to friends who’d gladly eat some of his admirers’ sweets and keep the gifts he didn’t want when he asked. you, the friend who always gave him your best harvests come strawberry picking season and saved him some of the meals you’d cook in exchange for him letting you see his creative projects before anyone else.

but more importantly, you, the friend who drunkenly declared to all of your peers two years ago that you have a crush on beomgyu. you, the friend who started occasionally sending him your own short letters and simple gifts whenever you felt like it afterwards, much like the admirers you used to help him ward off. you, who kept being his friend first and foremost and never made things awkward even with your feelings always hanging in the air because you knew that beomgyu didn’t feel the same then and that was okay. you, who gladly let him tease you about it every now and then—until he suddenly couldn’t halfway through the summer when demeter called for you to help persephone with matters in the underworld. you who just disappeared the next day, having stolen persephone’s pearl that was previously retrieved by taehyun on a quest and left before sunrise.

you who told beomgyu the day demeter called for you via mr. d that maybe you need this trip to get over him and go back to the way things were between the two of you, before joking about getting him a souvenir from the river lethe.

it’s a bit stupid even for a child of aphrodite, beomgyu thinks, that he only ever started appreciating your presence (and maybe even reciprocrating your feelings) once you left. though to be fair, you’ve never left camp without notice or without telling at least one person a definitive date of when you’ll be back before. your presence in camp, for most of the demigods including beomgyu, is almost like chiron’s or mr. d’s in that you’re never away for too long.

though you can hold your own in battle, you never liked quests, preferring more to stay and maintain your strawberry fields and vegetable gardens. and that agitated all of your friends on the day you left, especially beomgyu.

even worse, suddenly it’s almost christmas now and from what yeonjun’s heard from his dad and what soobin’s heard from his own significant other (a child of hades), you’re still pretty much indefinitely stuck in the underworld—surviving off of food that demeter delivers and, apparently, warding off the advances of an undead suitor that’s been mentioned around your mutual circle of friends enough times to get beomgyu irritated and threaten sneaking off to get you himself.

(soobin has to hold him back and ask the other aphrodite kids to watch him like a hawk after every declaration.)

child of aphrodite beomgyu suddenly finds himself wandering camp borders and the strawberry fields on most nights these days, terrorizing yeonjun about the mail during breakfast, and reading and re-reading the letters you sent before, scolding himself for taking everything for granted. if not, he’s tending to the plants you’ve left behind along with your half-siblings and keeping a voice memo journal detailing everything that’s happening in camp for when you return (making sure to omit all the misshaps he’s gotten himself into in the meantime because he’s not really that proud of some of them—especially the time he drunkenly charmspoke to taehyun’s partner as a dare before they got together. beomgyu thinks—maybe hopes, too— that you’ll find out about it from taehyun’s partner and scold him for it when you come back. he’s this desperate, okay).

choi beomgyu, on top of being a child of aphrodite, the new counselor of his cabin, a skilled archer, a creative artist, and all-around popular camper at camp half-blood, may or may not also be experiencing love for the first time and it’s messing with his head big time. sometimes, he thinks he’ll go insane thinking about how his half-sibling, kazuha, keeps asking about the red string around his wrist and extending all the way to the camp gates. sometimes, especially on quests, he thinks about sneaking off and finding another one of persephone’s pearls to get to you. but sometimes, he also thinks that it’s just from not being used to your absence for a long time, from not having his child of demeter friend joke around with him and name him the flowers growing around camp.

but what beomgyu’s sure of is that he really can’t wait until spring arrives and persephone comes back to the land of the living with you. he needs to see you as soon as possible and if it takes having to sneak off camp the next time that he’s off on a quest and do some outrageous things to land his soul in the underworld, he’ll do it immediately.

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captainmalewriter · 3 years ago

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Mischievous Boyfriend

Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to formally share a piece of advice for all of you. If you ever find yourself in a situation in which your partner confides in you that they have magical powers, you need to do two things. First, make sure you get all the details of their powers. We’re talking what kind of magic they can do, how they do it, when they can do it, for how long, and so on and so forth. Second, and this one is arguably more important than the first, make sure you establish boundaries with your partner when it comes to performing any magic on you.

Learn from my mistakes friends, trust me you’ll be glad you did. I remember I thought it was so cool to have a partner with magical abilities. I still do- I mean, c’mon, who wouldn’t want a magical being as a significant other? Well soon enough I learned to bite my words. I was young, naïve, and in love, it was natural that I wouldn’t bother taking my own advice. I told my partner that they have my consent to do whatever kind of magic they wanted on me. Mind you, I said that without even knowing what kind of powers my partner possessed. I thought they had something like anti-gravity, or telekinesis, or mind reading, or something else along those lines. You know, the ones you see in comic books and movies.

So what kind of powers does my partner have?

Well... why don’t I just show you. Here’s me laying down in a beach chair under the shade of some palm trees.

My partner and I decided to have a little getaway for the summer. Sounds wonderful, right? I won’t lie, it’s fucking amazing, but there’s one little detail I should mention... that’s not me. I’ve never had any body hair, I can’t grow facial hair, my ears aren’t pierced, and my body is much thicker than I remember it a few minutes ago.

But then suddenly while I was taking a cat nap, I felt myself get really warm and dizzy. My body started aching, and I felt cold shivers run up and down my spine despite how hot I was getting. Then, when the feeling subsided, I took off my shades and saw that my body had been transformed. Again.

“Donnie!! Did you transform me again!?” I shouted out. I knew Donnie could transform themselves too, so I had no idea who to look out for. I could only assume that the muscular surfer looking dude that walked up to me was him. I had my doubts, but then when this guy let out an uncharacteristic “tee-hee-hee,” I knew it was Donnie behind those new brown locks of flowing hair.

“I’m sorry. babeee! I was bored, and I thought a little magic could spice things up!” Donnie said in a new deep voice. God, the mix of a masc voice with Donnie’s very effeminate manner of speaking was harsh on the ears.

Then again, seeing a petite man like Donnie go from 5′2 to 6′4 with muscles bigger than mine was also an odd sight to see. Even though Donnie had transformed both of us several times already, it still took me a while to get used to our new bodies every time they did it. I had just gotten used to being my old self too, now Donnie had given me yet another change...

“Babe... why are you looking at me like that? Stop...!”

I was staring Donnie down. I knew it would make him tick, it made me laugh every time without fail. He was giving me the puppy dog eyes again just as expected. Even if Donnie shape shifted into the most masculine jock you can think, that sub bottom personality still followed him everywhere.

I stood up and approached Donnie in their new form. I had to look up just to keep eye contact with them, but I still knew how to get Donnie going regardless of the new height difference.

“Ha-have I been a bad boy...?” Donnie asked while touching his pointer fingers together.

I smirked, then I proceeded to pull them in for a kiss. I grabbed their ass and immediately felt the mass they added back there. I could feel Donnie getting hard as we made out, their dick started poking me too. That never happened before... Donnie must’ve added a few inches, they must’ve been dead set on topping me for once. But I knew that wasn’t gonna happen, as Donnie was already getting down on his knees to suck me off. I smiled, something in my head told me I was gonna enjoy fucking this tall jock’s bubble butt into submission. Something about watching a bottom’s lengthy dick flop around as they rode me was turning me on. I knew this arrangement wasn’t Donnie’s original plan, but I’m sure he’ll enjoy it regardless.

#male transformation #male body transformation #body transformation #boyfriends #caption

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shihalyfie · 4 years ago

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A guide to the 02 kids’ personalities and overall demeanors

I’ve already covered the deeper details of each 02 kid’s character arc and development throughout the series, but I figured I might dedicate a more specific post about the complexities of their outer personalities, and their behavior patterns on a day-to-day basis. 02 is the kind of series that doesn’t really spell out what the characters tend to do or don’t tend to do, or what boundaries they will and won’t cross, which means it can be a bit of a challenging task to track their behavior over fifty episodes and figure out the patterns. Fortunately, these characters are written remarkably consistently over said episodes, so we have a lot to work with!

Disclaimer before we continue: In general, all of my 02-based meta is specifically written for the Japanese version in mind, but this especially applies to this one, because the majority of the nuances of the demeanor and personality traits described below were not retained in the American English dub at all (please see this post for more detail). As a result, please understand that if you’re working from the perspective of having only seen that dub, and the contents of the below post sound completely different, that would be why.

Daisuke and V-mon

Believe it or not, I would say that Daisuke is actually the most difficult to nail the nuances of out of this entire cast. This is probably a really weird thing to hear when the usual fandom mantra is that he’s “flat” or “lacking in development”, but I think the deceptive part is that while he’s simple-minded and himself doesn’t think in complex terms, analyzing his behavior as a whole and how he approaches things actually involves a lot of very delicate balances, and getting that exactly right can be very easy to mess up. Daisuke’s not a rude jerk who looks down on anyone, not in the slightest -- but he’s also not a saint who can do no wrong, either!

I think the easiest analogy (which I’ve brought up several times on this blog already) is that Daisuke is like a puppy, but not just any puppy -- a tiny puppy that barks very loudly at anything it perceives as threatening (regardless of whether it’s actually threatening), makes its feelings very clear with obvious likes and dislikes, and can do some phenomenally stupid things in a bid to please others, but in the end means no malice and only wants you to be happy.

This is to the point where I’m just going to have to bullet-point this, because there’s so much going on at once:

Excessively emotional: One of Daisuke’s earliest profiles refers to him as having “an excessively large range of human emotions”, and really, a lot of the humor surrounding him has to do with the fact he has incredibly dramatic, overblown reactions to nearly everything around him. So if he gets a little annoyed or suspicious of people making fun of him, he tends to get really dramatic about being upset, and when he experiences only a minor setback, he acts like it’s the end of the world, and when he’s emotionally hurt, he sometimes even gets set on the verge of crying (you can especially hear this in Kiuchi Reiko’s delivery). Even Daisuke himself doesn’t tend to get caught up in it for too long and gets over things surprisingly quickly, so you can take it as him just constantly being too wrapped up in the mood -- but when it really is a serious situation, he gets truly emotionally invested in it, too.

Too easy to read: Because Daisuke wears his heart on his sleeve and is dramatic about everything, he’s awful at hiding anything. Any attempt at trickery or trying to disguise his intentions quickly blows up in his face because he’s too simple-minded and too transparent.

Not malicious: Daisuke only ever lashes out or gets angry at others when he thinks others are doing something he disapproves of, or when he thinks he’s being attacked; he’s very warm and kind to everyone otherwise (even in the earliest parts of the series, when he’s at his roughest, you might notice he’s very soft around Chibimon, as if understanding that his partner is now in a very small and delicate form and needs to be treated accordingly). In other words, Daisuke is very quick to get defensive, but he has no malice or reason to be condescending towards anyone otherwise, and he’s perfectly friendly with people even when they’d provoked him earlier (because he doesn’t really hold grudges). He doesn’t attack people without reason; even when he voices dissent against what someone is doing, he very rarely, if ever, insults a person or their character directly. Even when he’s trying to state his opinions (such as when he bids for the others to accept Ken), he never forces them down others’ throats and accepts that they disagree with him, even if he’s clearly not happy with their disagreement.

Easily critical and suspicious: Daisuke is a very bluntly straightforward and honest person, and he seems to get most set off by people who act suspicious; note how his early-series outbursts towards Takeru tend to be when Takeru’s acting evasive, and in Hurricane Touchdown, he catches onto Wallace’s shady behavior even before he starts flirting with Miyako (Daisuke’s own method of trying to seem attractive to others involves just “doing something cool and hoping it’ll impress others”, so he seems to dislike the concept of flirting as a whole). Because of that, he catches easily onto “things looking off”, so he tends to call it out (even if sometimes he’s overdoing it and there isn’t actually anything significant to be upset about).

Supportive and adoring of others: Other than the moments when he gets set off, fundamentally speaking, Daisuke likes other people, is perfectly willing to acknowledge them or heap praise on them when they do something awesome, and generally cares for their well-being. He’s easily defers to others when he understands they’re better than him at something, and he even has a decently realistic scope of his limits (see how he’s perfectly aware he’s likely to lose the soccer game in 02 episode 8, and figures he might as well enjoy the experience). This is even taken to its logical conclusion in the Kizuna drama CD when he “credits” his friends for giving him amazing and insightful advice when all of it was actually pretty ordinary stuff they’d done offhandedly. It also means that, given his penchant for getting emotionally invested in everything, he has a huge emotional stake in making sure his friends are doing okay, and supports them accordingly.

Deferential to seniors/elders: Tying into the above, you may notice that Daisuke takes a properly respectful and soft tone towards his elders and seniors in nearly all occasions, even to the point of occasionally using proper polite-form language around them. All things considered, Daisuke is a pretty well-behaved kid.

Constantly getting strung around: As much as Daisuke looks like he’s aggressive, in actuality, it’s very easy to get him to back down if you argue against him strongly enough, and since he has such a “the heck is that?!” attitude all of the time, you can see him constantly getting strung around and at the mercy of things happening around him. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have enough will to put his foot down when it becomes a really important subject (especially in the second half of the series), but it’s very often when he’ll be talked down by others around him and shrink with an “oh...okay...” In fact, this is why a lot of his actions aren’t nearly as reckless as they might be otherwise; as much as he’s a bit hot-headed and likes to lead the attack, he also has a sense of self-preservation and intimidation when things look a bit too dangerous, and will only push forward in such a case when there’s something he really believes in at the other side of it.

Lacking in self-awareness and insecure as a result: While Daisuke doesn’t have any signs of persistent self-hatred (on the contrary, there are times he arguably comes off as overconfident), it also seems that he has practically zero awareness of how he himself is doing -- which means that he ends up rolling over like an idiot trying to get others’ approval and trying to impress them, even when it’d be clear to anyone else that he already has that approval. This also likely ties into the fact that he’s perfectly capable of acknowledging others’ accomplishments and skills (see above), so you might even think that the problem isn’t so much that he thinks he’s bad as much as he keeps comparing himself to people he perceives as being that much more awesome. (Perhaps symbolic of this, he apparently has a complex over being shorter than Takeru and Ken, despite the fact that he seems to be of perfectly average height for a kid his age.) It seems that his only bar for how he’s doing is dependent on everyone’s reactions around him, hence why his ridiculous antics are significantly less pronounced when he has proper emotional support and friends to keep him in check. It’s also important to consider that this applies to his apparent crush on Hikari as well; his crush mainly manifests in wanting her approval very badly, and it’s mostly visible in terms of him losing a ton of brain cells in her presence and bending over backwards to please her or impress her. He never actually says in words that he’s interested in her, nor does he ever show signs of intending to seriously ask her out, so it’s something that’s only apparent because of this behavior, and it’s very likely he hasn’t even seriously thought through what would happen if she actually accepted him in return. You can basically see this as an extreme version of the way Daisuke tries to get approval from everyone else, and this trait of his noticeably dies down whenever there’s more important things at hand, or when he seems to be in the midst of getting proper validation from those around him.

Simple-minded and pragmatic: What’s usually referred to as Daisuke being an “idiot” comes from the fact he doesn’t play well with complex thinking, tends to settle for very simple explanations or answers, and more thoughtful types like Ken or Iori will often have to fill that part in for him. However, because Daisuke is so simple-minded, he’s sometimes the most pragmatic person in the group, because he doesn’t overthink things or get principles of theory caught up into everything. So if Ken is clearly not showing any indication of doing bad things anymore and is actively working to help, Daisuke believes he should be allowed to help regardless of what he’d done in the past, and if they’re dealing with the situation of potentially having to kill a living enemy, Daisuke points out that hesitation would have resulted in even more casualties. In essence, in a situation where everyone’s running mental loop-de-loops, Daisuke will usually be the first one to snap them all out of it and go “uh? Guys?” Moreover, this trait of his makes him very good at spotting glaring threads or asking questions about the elephant in the room, because since he works best with things that are right in front of him, he can’t not notice it.

Enjoys the little things: Because Daisuke is so simple-minded, it’s very easy to please him (this is why his chosen career path is something as simple as ramen making). Daisuke likes his friends, and appreciates even simple things around him, so he’s happy with even simple pieces of happiness -- hence, why he’s fine with potentially losing the soccer game in 02 episode 8, because he’s ready to simply just savor the experience of getting to play against a respectable and formidable opponent.

Note that the main reason Daisuke never seems to bring up any of these issues with himself within the series proper is simply that he doesn’t seem to be aware of them -- he’s too simple-minded to understand what’s going on with his own behavior in depth, and hence, this is how he can say he’s not worried about too much by the time of 02′s finale, especially since by that point he has a proper support group that’s already helping him deal with most of his issues anyway.

Daisuke also has the roughest speech pattern out of any of the 02 group (similar to Taichi and Yamato in Adventure); he has a tendency to shorten words a lot and use “rough” variants of words (for example “-nee” instead of “-nai”).

Mischievous, friendly, and playful, V-mon is pointed out even by official sources to be much like his partner (far more so than usual), and it’s likely a byproduct of the fact that Daisuke himself is very honest and straightforward about his emotions and thoughts, and so since he has nothing to hide, V-mon is pretty much exactly like him -- with the major difference being that he’s a little more outwardly friendly and less likely to lash out angrily. So he’s effectively Daisuke without that very thin abrasive exterior, and because both of them are so like-minded and friendly, they get along extremely well (albeit with quite a bit of comfortable bantering on the way there).

Ken and Wormmon

Ken is the more intellectual type that Daisuke isn’t, and even after his stint as the Kaiser, it’s clear that he’s still quite studious and naturally interested in studying things. Looking closely at his style of dress and way of carrying himself (note how he lays down his chopsticks in 02 episode 36) indicates he’s also a rather tidy person in general. Being someone who’s capable of thinking things thoroughly, this makes him able to have a lot of deep insight into both intellectual and emotional issues, but because he takes things too seriously sometimes, he can sometimes come off as a bit overly stickler or insistent (note Daisuke and Ken’s Shopping Carol, where he subjects Daisuke to a long-winded lecture about the history of Christmas, because, really, he’s a nerd), or lead himself down the wrong direction when he’s having a hard time being straightforward (such as when he comes up with some very flimsy theories about why Jogress might be dangerous in 02 episode 28).

In fact, Ken’s disposition could be considered to be the opposite of Daisuke’s in many ways; while Ken is much softer and more conciliatory on the surface, he’s actually much more assertive and strong-willed by default, and it’s made clear that, even after his reformation from the Kaiser persona, he could still be vicious if he wanted to, he just doesn’t enjoy it because he doesn’t like it and it goes against his belief system (note that he even offered to "dirty his own hands" in lieu of the other kids if push came to shove and Archnemon had to be killed in 02 episode 29, even though he clearly wasn't enthusiastic about the idea). In fact, he has a very strong sense of responsibility and believes heavily in making up for what he’s done -- recall that 02 episodes 26 and 49 involved snapping him out of it by reminding him that there were things that needed to be done, and that he himself still had many things he wanted to do that wouldn’t be addressed if he’d stayed fixated on his past. Thus, Ken doesn’t deny nor avoid anything he’d done, and he isn’t even all that prone to self-pity -- it’s just that his tendency to put too much responsibility on himself means that he also takes a while to accept everyone’s support, too, because he doesn’t like the idea of putting burdens on others.

Because Ken is actually one of the more straightforward people in this group and a fairly honest person (at least, as long as he’s not lying to himself), he might hold himself back a little bit in order to not be rude, but he doesn’t do it nearly to the same degree Takeru or Hikari would and is much more willing to speak his mind when he has an opinion he wants to voice or needs to sort out his thoughts on something. Conversely, he’s not nearly as cold as Iori can get when criticizing things (he’ll certainly be firm, but not as incisive). Most post-02 materials also indicate that he’s not above being a tease or even a little mischievous (see Armor Evolution to the Unknown, Diablomon Strikes Back, Daisuke and Ken’s Shopping Carol).

Ken uses a speech pattern that’s slightly more casual than Takeru’s, but not nearly as rough as Daisuke’s. While anime will often have speech patterns substantially change between different personas of a character, other than Park Romi’s delivery of a more condescending tone for the Kaiser and a significantly softer one for Ken, nothing about his speech pattern is substantially different between the two personas (not even the first-person pronoun), indicating that, in the end, they’re really the same person after all, just manifesting the same personality traits in different ways.

Wormmon is affectionate and clingy, unfailingly loyal to Ken, and his biggest advocate during a time when Ken is trying to relearn how to love and accept himself -- meaning that he ends up very important to providing Ken the initial support he needed before Ken allowed other friends into his life. Wormmon isn’t all nothing but clinginess, though -- he has some insight about the weight of his experiences when prompted (02 episode 46), and in fact is more than capable of calling out Ken’s behavior when he’s being unreasonable or throwing himself into denial (see 02 episodes 27, 30, and 49).

Miyako and Hawkmon

Miyako approaches everything she likes with an attitude that makes her come off as constantly having bubbles and hearts around her. When she likes something, she says so. When she doesn’t like something, she says so (and she will go off when she’s on a roll; see 02 episode 14). In fact, part of the reason she so infamously voices her opinion on people being cute is, quite simply, that it’s her honest opinion. (Note that she never actually tries to ask them out or anything -- she just wants to make it very clear that they’re attractive.)

For the most part, she adores the people around her, and, like the others in the 02 group, she’s perfectly respectful towards elders. She also loves poking her nose in others’ business and trying to be as helpful as possible, which is good in that she ends up being a huge help to others, but also not good in that sometimes she overdoes it a bit (when Hikari calls her out for being a “handful” in 02 episode 31, the word she uses is one that literally means "a little too overly involved in others' business").

Miyako is the one who gets everyone up in high spirits by being cheerful, and whose cheer rubs off on everyone else around her (see her cheerfully leading the charge into the Digital World with her “Digital Gate, open! Chosen Children, let’s roll!” catchphrase). This is something the rest of the group catches onto very quickly, asking her to supply the “usual cheer”, and the later episodes of the series especially drive home the fact that her presence and antics bring happiness to those around her.

Miyako has a similar “chaotic, sloppy, and straightforward” demeanor to Daisuke, but there are some key differences. Unlike Daisuke, who’s bluntly honest about his opinions mainly because he doesn’t really hide things in general, Miyako’s opinions will be out of her mouth before she can control it. In other words, she has a nasty case of foot-in-mouth syndrome. In addition, while Daisuke tends to have a very thin skin and lashes out defensively out of instinct, Miyako takes things much more at face value and doesn’t blow a fuse nearly as easily, but because she’s significantly more assertive and aggressive, she’s much more prone to doing what she wants on her own whims instead of backing down to anyone. In fact, Miyako is significantly more emotionally sensitive in the long run, so while Daisuke tends to blow a fuse more easily, he’s also able to shrug it off and move on more quickly, whereas Miyako has a thicker skin, but when she does take emotional pain, she takes it much more deeply and harshly. She also tends to get overwhelmed easily by stress and panic, which makes her one of the more prone to running around in circles and doing frantic things in the midst of it.

One thing you might notice about Miyako is that she’s actually more critical of herself than anyone else in the group is; most of the time they act with mild exasperation at her antics but don’t tend to criticize her directly, whereas Miyako is very aware of her own shortcomings and is constantly either criticizing herself or comparing herself negatively to others (see: 02 episodes 10, 14, 18, and 31 especially). If she slips up and does something that stepped on someone else’s toes, it doesn’t take her long to realize that she’s messed up and want to do better. So while she generally tends to act the most in-your-face and aggressive, she also doesn’t necessarily want to be this way, and suffers from self-confidence issues and a poor opinion of herself.

Miyako uses a feminine speech pattern that’s a bit more casual than Hikari’s (she noticeably is willing to use the word anta for “you”, which has a bit of a connotation of being abrupt and in-your-face, especially with Daisuke). She’s also the most likely to physically manhandle things, both in the affectionate (hugging people) and aggressive (grabbing things and jumping on them in order to attack) senses.

Hawkmon is repeatedly referred to as being like Miyako’s “knight”, since he has absolute loyalty to her (in spite of her ridiculous antics often meaning he gets strung around by her) and is effectively in charge of minding her so she doesn’t get too out of control. While his overly polite and gentlemanly demeanor initially seems like a sharp contrast to Miyako’s aggressive and messy personality, you might also notice that, at their cores, the two aren’t all that different -- both are unfailingly loyal to others, and both also have a penchant for dramatic theatrics and being a bit overly proud of themselves.

Iori and Armadimon

The key thing to know about Iori is that he’s not stoic because he’s not feeling fervent emotions, but rather because he’s constantly holding them back (this is especially apparent if you look carefully at his facial expressions and Urawa Megumi’s delivery, where you can tell his facade is often “slipping” even when his words would indicate otherwise). Since Iori is trying to live by the ideal of being a model citizen, especially under the very formal environment he was raised in, he comes off as mature for his age, but it’s very important to not forget that, underneath all that, he’s still an impressionable nine-year-old child with the wide range of emotions and immaturity of one, and when he does emotionally fall apart, everything tends to burst out (see 02 episodes 16, 44, 47, 50). In addition, Iori is never condescending about the fact he usually acts more mature than the others; the impression is that he’s much more strict with himself than he is with others, and in fact still does look up to his elders in the 02 group even when they’re obviously a lot messier than he is.

The “need to be a model citizen” is something looming over Iori’s head at almost every moment, and it’s the easiest way to understand the way he acts in a nutshell. Iori is focused on the idea of “becoming a proper adult”, which means that he’s adhering to all of these principles because he feels they’re necessary to live a proper and honest life as per the formal manners that his family background trained him into. But like a young child who insists “you have to do this because those are the rules!” all of the time, Iori is over-applying all of this, and even his own grandfather advises him that he really needs to chill (02 episodes 5, 24). In short, he struggles with thinking flexibly and understanding that life isn’t all that clear-cut, because he’s a young child. Since he also tends to bring out these things in relation to “what my father would do/say”, it’s implied that he’s basing all of this off of having only hearsay to work off of in regards to what his father was actually like, to the point of aspiring to an impossible, saintlike version of him he’d created in his head.

Note that Iori’s “rules” have less to do with institutional rules (that would be more of a Jou thing) and more to do with self-imposed personal rules; for instance, he doesn’t mind sneaking into school during a holiday when it’s obviously not hurting anyone (02 episode 6), but he struggles with things like wasting food (02 episode 3) or not formally introducing himself to an elder (02 episode 5). So in other words, his adherence to principles has heavily to do with “the right and proper way to live” more than anything, and what he believes is the right thing to do in a given situation.

Iori’s journey in 02 is largely fueled by the fact that, as an inheritor of sorts of the Crest of Knowledge, he has a sense of “I want to know and understand more” whenever he sees something that makes him curious, but unlike Koushirou’s desire to learn more about the world around him in terms of its technical workings, Iori mainly wants to know more about people. The reason he begins to let go of his inflexible mindset is that he has the humility to understand that he still has a lot more to learn and understand, and when he sees behavior from others that doesn’t make sense, he does his best to learn more about it -- hence how his aggressive probing into learning more about Takeru allows them to reach an understanding and eventual Jogress, and how he’s able to eventually reassess his own view of human morality and emotions.

Iori sticks out in that he almost always uses the formal variant of Japanese in most situations (nobody else in the 02 group does this). However, formal in this situation doesn’t necessarily mean polite; Iori doesn’t believe in flattery and will bluntly state his opinion in said formal tone, and will be very cold towards something he sufficiently disapproves of or doesn’t have any respect for, which can make him even come off as passive-aggressive at times. (Noticeably, while he still asserts his own opinion, he does refrain from criticizing the others in the 02 group too much, presumably because he respects and looks up to them a lot as his elders, regardless of how chaotic they can sometimes get.) In addition, because a lot of his demeanor comes from him restraining himself, when his emotions are sufficiently pushed over the edge, he loses grip on the polite form and starts “lapsing” back into the casual one.

Because Iori was so young during 02, and because the events of its story ended up really upending his view of the world, the huge eight-year gap between 02 and Kizuna makes it difficult to predict certain things about his demeanor at the time of Kizuna (especially since his own voice actor commented on the difficulty of conveying the nuances of Iori’s character, thanks to only being able to work with the limited time frame of a movie that doesn’t put him in the kinds of emotionally drastic situations that push him to his limit). That said, everything we’ve seen of him in the movie itself and the drama CD makes reasonable sense; now that he’s much older, he comes off as having much better restraint on his emotions and coming off as genuinely calm, but he’s still not one for flattery, and you can still see very minor slips in his facade every so often.

Armadimon also initially seems like a sharp contrast to Iori in terms of demeanor, in that he’s much more casual and laid-back, and he’s indeed a huge factor in reminding Iori to chill once in a while -- but, much like Iori, he prods and asks questions about anything he’s curious about. This initially seems to be out of simple-mindedness because, being a Digimon, he doesn’t understand human society that well, but his very basic questions often end up snapping Iori back to reality in realizing that he’s getting hung up on things that don’t actually make practical sense. Urawa also felt that Armadimon fills in some of the void that Iori’s late father left behind, in that he provides Iori with unconditional love and helps guide him.

Takeru and Patamon

Takeru is the kind of person who seems to dislike major disruptions to the status quo, so he doesn’t say anything inflammatory that’ll rock the boat. It’s very difficult to get him to talk about serious topics related to his deeper personal feelings (02 episode 17, 35, Spring 2003), and even when it’s clear he might have more misgivings on the situation, unless it’s an urgent situation where it needs to be brought up, he won’t voice his misgivings too clearly for the sake of not causing trouble (hence why Daisuke is so unsure what to make of him in the early episodes of the series, because Takeru constantly fails to clarify his own position in favor of a “good for you” or “sure, you keep believing that if you want” attitude). This also makes him the most likely to awkwardly change the subject or try to distract with small talk, and it means that, even when he’s saying cheerful, pleasant things, it’s very likely there’s pain or uncertainty under that initial facade. (Note that while his suspicions of Ken during 02 episodes 25 and 27 aren't nearly as vicious as Iori's turn out to be, we learn that he's still willing to quietly accuse Ken of working for his own self-satisfaction in the latter episode, but he never brings this up to anyone but himself.)

Because Takeru isn’t necessarily doing this to be consciously dishonest, it does mean that he also has positive applications of this tendency to take everything in stride and keep the peace, because he ends up keeping the more extreme personalities in the rest of the group in line and acts as an effective mediator. You could say that he has a pretty high amount of tolerance and a capacity for taking everyone’s points of view in mind. However, since it’s also very difficult to tell what he himself is thinking, his use of this as a poor coping mechanism for his personal trauma leads to a tendency for him to suddenly explode in a mess of emotions whenever something gets too personal, leading to sudden conflict, and with others at a loss in terms of how to deal with him (the most extreme example being 02 episode 19, but also present in 13, 11, and 34). This “two-sidedness” is why it ends up having to be the more consciously methodical Iori who steps up to try and understand him better as his Jogress partner.

Fortunately, Takeru shows signs of becoming more straightforward in the aftermath, although you can see that he still has a penchant for mild flattery and “trying to hold back for the sake of not being rude” all the way up to Kizuna (but, again, this can’t be said to necessarily be a bad thing when it means he has a valuable skill as a mediator).

Takeru has a fairly neutral speech pattern that comes off as casual but not too aggressive or assertive (not as absurdly polite as Iori’s, but slightly less assertive than Ken’s).

Patamon initially still seems to be “immature” in the same way he was in Adventure, which initially seems to widen the gap in personality between him and Takeru, but looking closer reveals that the differences aren’t as big as they seem; Patamon seems to have gained a capability for slyness and active trolling behind his playfulness (see 02 episode 7), not entirely like Takeru starting to use his evasiveness in a teasing-like manner. Moreover, Patamon does actually seem to have gained a bit of proper maturity in the meantime; see how he instructs the Baby Digimon on convenience store food in 02 episode 3, and in general seems much more willing to take independent action in ways he didn’t always in Adventure. Noticeably, Takeru’s difficulty with his own convoluted feelings means that he can’t even have a proper heart-to-heart with him about it on the situation (most glaring in 02 episode 34, where it’s implied that Takeru would rather leave Patamon to be happy right now instead of bothering him about it), especially because he’s clearly having difficulty even working it out with himself. However, despite their ostensible differences in mentality, Takeru and Patamon have no difficulty getting along at all in 02, and, other than Takeru pampering Patamon a bit, there isn’t all that strong of an impression of them being so mismatched -- perhaps because, in the end, they really aren’t all that different.

Hikari and Tailmon

Taichi stated in Adventure episode 48 that Hikari has a problem where she's so selfless and thinking of others that she'll never speak up about her own problems. Hikari states in 02 episode 31 that she compulsively cannot speak out about her own feelings even if she wanted to, to the point she’s jealous of Miyako for being able to be more open (even if it means being overkill at times). As a result: if Hikari’s talking about “the right thing to do”, or something for everyone’s sake, or something that’s relevant to other people and what’s best for them, she will be extremely vocal and quick to act, and she’s not above even chipping in with criticisms (see: 02 episodes 19, 32, 44). In fact, she’s fully capable of being playful or toying with others if she really wants to (see how she casually manipulates Daisuke into calling a lunch break for everyone in 02 episode 6).

The moment the issue at hand is about herself, though -- her own feelings or pain, or something that might hurt others’ feelings (hence the presumable reason she dodges Daisuke’s affections rather than proactively doing anything about it), or something that would put a burden on others for her own sake -- she completely clams up and refuses to do or say anything, and when bad things start happening to her, she resigns herself to her own fate and concludes she can’t do anything about it. Hence, why she takes such a defeatist attitude towards the Dark Ocean swallowing her up in 02 episodes 13 and 31, and why it’s such a big deal if she even so much as asks for help. 02 episode 31 indicates that Miyako reaching out to her is an important step in breaking her out of her shell, and the Kizuna drama CD -- which has Hikari assertively declare something she personally wants -- heavily implies further that Miyako was instrumental to this becoming possible.

Hikari is compassionate for others to the very end, expresses pity for BlackWarGreymon as early as 02 episode 31, and catches on quickly to Ken’s feelings on himself in 02 episode 37 (and even back when she’d been more skeptical about him in 02 episode 25, she never seemed to have real personal distaste against him as much as she still wanted to make sure he was trustworthy first). But although she’s one of the most compassionate in the group, she’s also one of the most assertive in the group. This leads to something that initially seems like a paradox: she’s actually more fervent about the need to fight than the more aggressive Miyako is. Miyako is, ultimately, emotionally caught up in everything and briefly falls apart at having killed LadyDevimon in 02 episode 44 (even despite knowing how horrible of a person she’d been), but Hikari is the one who points out that there would have been more victims if they hadn’t. 02 episodes 25 and 43 had made it abundantly clear that Hikari didn’t like it at all, but she states in 02 episode 37 repeatedly that they need to prevent there from being victims -- meaning that she values the importance of protecting all lives, including those who would be hurt in the process, and thus has some of the more resilient guts when it comes to the prospect of fighting to save others. Again, her hesitation only comes into play at its worst when it has to do with herself; working to save others is a no-brainer.

Hikari uses a casual feminine speech pattern that’s less in-your-face than Miyako’s, but she’s still a bit more casual than she was in Adventure, when she used the more polite watashi instead of atashi. Interestingly, Tailmon herself seems to have mirrored this as well, presumably because now that she’s had more time to recover from her miserable life under Vamdemon, she’s able to enjoy her life a bit more freely. This means that, while Tailmon is still the most mature and put-together of the Digimon partners in the 02 group, she sometimes acts a little more casual and playful in a similar way to Hikari, and while she has a certain degree of stuffy personal pride (see how she wasn’t very amused at how frivolously the other Digimon were playing around in 02 episode 3), she’s still open to enjoying herself a little more freely. Hikari, for her part, becomes surprisingly like-minded with her during those times -- see them in 02 episode 12 -- and, as stated earlier, it’s not like Hikari isn’t up for making tough decisions when they’re needed, either.

#digimon #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #shihameta

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morningstargirl666 · 9 months ago

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Some stories I love that had wolf!Klaus in them and in some cases even inspired elements of TBBW:

The Red Queen Series (Red Queen - Complete, Roux Reine - Complete, Hans Røde Dronning - WIP) by KS_Caster / @ks-caster

I can't actually remember if this one had Klaus physically in wolf form but in Roux Reine there is a kinda sub plot where he's trying to gain control of the wolf transformation. There's a brilliant scene I remember vividly where he shifts his hand into a paw at the dinner table. Also I love how this S5 divergence slowly builds their relationship and Caroline finally gets someone firmly in her corner.

Wicked Schemes by willowaus

Caroline is unreachable by phone at the start of this fic and Liz asks Klaus to find her, worried she's missing. He does so in wolf form. Literally runs hundreds of miles and tracks her down. Zero notes. Amazing. The rest of the fic is brilliant too, if you're in the mood for a slight diverge from the typical Caroline goes to New Orleans AU.

The Lost Prince and The Eternal Queen by 3tinkgemini

Caroline is a werewolf Alpha in this one but otherwise it is a canon divergence. I think instead of taking Stefan to find werewolves to turn, he's on his own? And Caroline, knowing he's coming, offers him a deal: learn the ways of his own kind, their culture, the inner workings of a pack and then, if any of her pack members wish to become his hybrids, they will. There's a scene where the whole pack turns and Klaus is with them that I remember vividly. I love it very much, mostly because there isn't many fics that deep dive into the werewolf culture like this one did.

The Stubborn Grace of Being Loved Regardless by perfectpro / @helpless-in-sleep

Wolf!Klaus keeps coming to Caroline's garden and sitting in her flower beds in this one. I think at one point she throws a flip flop at his face. No notes. Amazing. Magnificent. Absolutely beautiful. Would sell my soul for this fic.

From The Eastern Mountains by Cupcakemolotov / @cupcakemolotov

Klaus saves Caroline in wolf form after she gets into a bit of bother with some other werewolves. Or were they witches? Not sure. Point is she was danger and wolf!Klaus came charging in to save her. There's some hot smut in this one.

Everything, Everything by Anyaparadox

If I remember correctly - and I may be wrong - but while Caroline and Klaus are trapped in the alternate world in human bodies, they realise Klaus is a werewolf just before the full moon rises and Caroline sees him transform. A scene follows that was a bit like if Caroline had been there for Klaus when he turned on a full moon, not Tyler.

There's also All I Need by emeraldvixen which I don't think has Klaus in wolf!form but it has some werewolf elements and smut. And there's another fic I cannot find in my bookmarks and can't remember the name of, but basically some witch curses Klaus into wolf!puppy form and shenanigans ensue as Caroline tries to figure out how to fix his predicament. I think she buys a leash and collar at one point to blend in with the human populance, much to Klaus' embaressment. I feel like it was either written by @cupcakemolotov or @lynyrdwrites though I may be completely wrong.

In conclusion, fics with Klaus in wolf form are out there, but ones with him being an absolute lovesick puppy for Caroline or (and arguably just as equally brilliant and funny as hell) the moon moon of the werewolf population are very, very rare. Like, he's freshly broken the curse after 1000 years. His father is no longer alive to teach him the werewolf basics. There's going to be a learning curve. There's a lot of potential here people.

We need more fics with wolf!klaus, honestly. Writers, I'm looking at you. Get to work, chop, chop.

I need more recs of stories where Klaus is absolutely a puppy for Caroline in his wolf form. I've reread The Big, Bad Wolf by Morningstargirl666 and I love the scenes where Ansel and Sam are basically having to manhandle wolf Klaus away from Caroline. I love him being a puppy for her. I need more stories with that energy. Even if it's just a small scene in the story. It's so adorable.

#klaroline #klaroline fanfic #klaus x caroline #fanfic recs #klaroline fanfic recs #klaroline fanfiction #wolf!klaus

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hobidreams · 5 years ago

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october 1865.

you never thought you would smile like this again, but here you are. and here he is, by your side.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: fluffy fluff words: 5k 😳 contains: historical au, chuseok date!, eunuch kim!, so much cuteness, guest appearances hehe

moonlit throne index. this is drabble 13. start from the beginning?

“How do I look, mom?”

Standing before the mirror, you nervously smooth the delicate sash of the pink hanbok for the hundredth time, careful not to lean down too much and dislocate the floral ornament carefully pinned in your hair. There have been doves fluttering in your stomach the entire afternoon; you don’t know if you tied this correctly or if your hair is braided right, and you can’t ask any of your nearby neighbours for fear of discovery that your plans are different than theirs tonight. Mother would know exactly what to do and what to say to make you feel at ease. But want you want most is for her to see you all grown up like this. Finally able to properly wear the outfit you coveted for so long, and hold your head high in it too. You think she’d be proud.

You manage a smile as you run your fingertips along the edge of the ornament, a gift from mother on your twelfth birthday. It’s almost been a year since her passing, and you still miss her more than anything. But you also know now that the best way to honor her is to be happy, and to carry on her work, her legacy. So far, you’ve begrudgingly won a few scraps of respect from the male physicians, and it’s a start.

“I hope you’re doing well up there,” you say, letting your gaze drift out the window to the beaming Chuseok moon, hoping the wind might take your words and your love all the way to her.

“Hey. Are you ready?”

You are grateful that the door is closed because the way you snap to attention is frankly embarrassing.

"Yes, just a moment, seja-jeonha!" you say in a nervous half-whisper, half-exclamation as you allow yourself one last glimpse at the mirror. This is going to be fine. You're going to be relaxed and have a good time, even if you are sneaking out of the palace with arguably the second most important person in the country.

Putting on a smile that hopefully looks effortless, you pull open the door and practically gasp out loud at the sight of him.

It's perhaps the first time you've seen the prince out of the traditional royal robes. It's an excellent disguise -- the clothes of a young yangban lord, done in a deep-dyed scarlet that contrasts his usual navy. A cinched belt fastens the coat deftly, juxtaposed against the dragging, silky sleeves beside it, making him seem somehow more elegant in the way he holds himself. Completing the look is the gat that sits atop his head, its wide-brim tilted low so it covers enough of his face that he wouldn't be recognized, at least not to anyone who spared him a passing glance (not that they would know his face to begin with). The gat strap hangs low in front of his chest, the intricate beading betraying just how truly expensive this hat is. He is, in short, unfairly, unfathomably handsome.

You are forever grateful that you chose to dress up; if nothing else, at least you will look suitable standing next to him, at least for a night.

If Yoongi thinks anything of your outfit, he covers it with a slight cough, his cheeks faintly reddened from the cold. “Good. Come on. We have to be quick.”

You nod, following him out into the night air.

With swift steps and strategic maneuvering, it doesn't take you long to reach one side of the imposing wall that separates palace from town. There, you find a familiar face waiting for you.

"Good evening," Eunuch Kim says with a bow. He’s wearing a different, muted set of green robes and donned a gat as well. “As you instructed, the select guards have been informed to keep quiet, and all else has been taken care of. Let us go."

He likely insisted on coming, as one of the caveats for your illicit excursion. You don't mind, since this isn't the first time he's had to do such a thing, always so worried about his rebellious, stubborn charge. You watch as he lets Yoongi go past first, then gestures for you.

“You look lovely tonight, uinyeo-nim,” Eunuch Kim says, and you share a small, furtive smile that feels like he’s cheering you on. Then you step past the official gates, feeling so acutely the pattering of your pulse because this is truly happening.

For the first handful of minutes, you remain both terrified and anticipatory that you'll be snatched back by the royal guard and accused of kidnapping the prince or something equally ridiculous as being on an actual outing with him. Beside you, Yoongi doesn't seem to have these worries as he walks by your side (though still a respectful, proper distance apart), letting his arms slightly swing while he kicks up dust with his slippers.

Just as you're wondering if you're being an awful companion and not making conversation, he says, "haven't been outside the palace in ages."

“Me too. It's… a little strange, having all this freedom to roam and do what I want. Even if it’s just for a night.”

“I'll say.” Yoongi makes an exasperated noise. “There are too many rules in that place. Can't do anything without being watched.” He gives a minor tilt of his head towards your chaperone, though it's more a tease rather than actually spiteful. Eunuch Kim, for his own sake, pretends not to see or hear the jab.

You smile. “It's for your safety, seja-jeonha.”

“So they say. But they'll regret it when I die of boredom first.”

He rolls his eyes and you laugh, and the palpitations in your stomach ease just like that.

As you draw ever closer to the town, the harmony of string and wind instruments crescendo and build with the jubilant chatter of the townspeople. It's getting to you in the best of ways; you're becoming so elated at the prospect of the festivities that you start to speed up, soon practically rushing towards the town square at a pace that forces Yoongi and Eunuch Kim to run to follow.

"…Wow!"

At the base of the square, your entire face brightens with the wondrous sight unfolding before you. There are people everywhere. Some down celebratory alcohol, others munch on sweet treats, and more still singing along to the traditional folk tunes with robust vibrato, regardless of whether they’re on key or not. You can’t find a single frown amidst all this mirth, and that’s just the way you like it. It’s overwhelming: the sights, the sounds, and the mouthwatering smell of something delicious and fried.

Yoongi eventually jogs up to you, forced to inhale a few quick breaths to refill his lungs. “Are you that hungry?” He asks, the corner of his lips curling up.

Oh god, you just made the prince run.

"No...! Not at all! I’m deeply sorry, seja-jeonha. I got too excited, didn’t I?”

“Not at all. Shall we get something to eat first then?”

You avert your eyes, though you really haven’t had dinner tonight. “No, please. Let us do what you would like.”

Yoongi grins as if it is of no consequence. “What I want? Well, then, I want to go this way.”

As is his habit, he begins to walk in the direction he chooses without notice, though this time he has to weave through the people that crowd the area. His disguise is working well; he is largely ignored as he passes, leading your little group all the way to an open alleyway where stalls line each side, lit up with lamps and vividly colored banners.

A twinge of sadness squeezes your heart as you look at the spread. You faintly remember a decade ago that there used to be a full row of assorted delicacies and sweets for purchase; now it’s mostly merchants with tables of books and hairpins, food becoming too scarce for most to sell with the grain shortage, even if they need the funds. Still, everyone seems to be doing their best with what they’ve got.

Sudden shouts ring out right beside you, nearly blowing your ears out with how loud they are.

“Jeon! Freshly fried shrimp and fish jeon for sale!”

“Hot, hot, hot nokdujeon over here!”

“Gaah!” you exclaim, eyes wide. You wouldn’t be surprised if the monks up the mountain heard about this jeon! When you turn to see who the hell is making all this commotion, you’re met with the scowling faces of two men, glaring furiously at each other in-between tending to their sizzling pans in adjacent stalls. The bearded one looks about seconds away from giving the other younger man a good smack with the fishing rod leaning on the wall behind him.

Said younger man gives a snicker. “No wonder my sales are beating yours. Why would anyone want your shrimp when they could have my delicious mung beans?”

“Say that again, if you dare.”

“Why would anyone want your gross shrimp when—”

“Yah, you can take your beans and shove them right up your nasty sokgot—”

“Excuse me,” Yoongi cuts in between them with a smirk. “I’ll take two orders of each. Preferably not ones shoved anywhere.” He drops coins on both counters, more than enough to cover the food.

“Ahem.” They levy two very similar glares at each other before beginning to package the orders for consumption, switching to polite honorifics in the process. “Yes, sir!”

“Right away, sir!”

They work deftly, obviously very practiced in the art. Neither of them drop so much as a crumb, even though they seem to be racing.

"My lord, here is your order," Fish Jeon says, only to be roughly shoved aside by Mung Bean in a rush to hand over the goods first.

"Please enjoy, sir!"

Yoongi takes the round and crispy nokdujeon, all wrapped in parchment paper. His amused chuckling makes you feel a little warmer, a bit fonder than you should. Especially when he then promptly passes the package to you.

"Seja--" You cut yourself off before you make the mistake. "Um. My lord, this is for me?" You ask, even though you're practically drooling at the scent.

"Did I give it to someone else? Eat."

He turns, hands off one of the assorted jeon plates to Eunuch Kim behind him, who accepts gratefully with a bow.

You, and your stomach, don’t need to be told twice. After blowing on the golden batter, you take a generous bite, accidentally smearing a bit of it on your cheek in the process but god, it tastes incredible. Mung Bean may be loud, but he clearly doesn’t tell lies. You have to hold yourself back from inhaling the pancake whole, instead savoring each nibble on your tongue.

“Come on. Keep going before the crowd grows,” Yoongi says, urging you forward with a jerk of his chin before biting into his own pancake. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile this much before, and it’s with slight regret that you tear your eyes away to look where you’re going.

From behind you as you start to walk, you hear, "Jungkook, you brat, shouldn't you be more respectful to your elders?!"

"Whatever, hyungnim. Nokdujeon! Better-than-his-fish nokdujeon!"

There is a very distinctive thwap as you move into the merchant area.

The first booth you come to belongs to a woman that you recognize, selling the latest romance novel by a rising author, Taehyun. She recognizes you too, waving you over with enthusiasm. “Oh, hello! We just received this last week. A tale of forbidden love between a yangban lady and a fisherman! Full of tension and…” she lowers her voice conspiratorially, “more than a few kisses!”

“Do people actually read things like this?” Yoongi mutters, staring at the covers.

“Huh? No! Well, hah, I certainly don’t!” You hope your face looks plausibly innocent. “But thank you,” you turn to say to the woman before hurriedly walking on before she can expose your ruse. The prince doesn’t need to know about the precious books you keep in a secret stash in your room. A lady can’t only study all day, right?

(You make a mental note to come back to town and pick up a copy later.)

Down the row you go, reluctantly finishing off the pancake on the way. Yoongi hands you the entire second plate of jeon not long after. “I don’t want it,” he says, watching you brighten at the prospect of more food. He does end up stealing a piece of shrimp from within your grasp later, throwing it casually into his mouth before you can even react.

The next display to really catch your attention is one laden with delicately handcrafted ornaments, pins, bracelets, and perfumes. “Wow!” You gush, leaning over the table as you try to calculate how much money you brought with you because you want it all, even though you rarely have the occasion to dress up. Still, you want at least something as a keepsake, to hold your memories of this precious day. Yoongi stops and waits for you; you forget it should be the other way around.

“Oh my, Eun-a-ssi? Is that you?”

What? You look up, breath hitched.

“Oh, my apologies.” The woman behind the booth is elderly, her hair grey, eyes wrinkling warmly as she smiles. “My mistake. My eyesight isn’t what it was. You… look a lot like a woman I know. I haven’t seen her in a long time now.”

“Eun-a… Eun-a was my mother,” you murmur. “She passed away last year.”

The woman’s eyes widen as she clutches her hands to her chest. “She did? Oh… Oh no… I’m so sorry, child. Then you must be—” She thinks for a moment, then says your name. You nod, and a small smile slips back on her lips, though now tinged with sadness. You know the feeling. “My name is Hong Sook-ja. I used to live right here in town with Eun-a-ssi, until all those years ago when she moved into the palace and I moved to the countryside. Your mother used to bring you into town for Chuseok and we got to know each other then. These days, I just come back every once in a while to see my granddaughter and great-grandson, so I must have missed the news.”

“It’s alright, Sook-ja-ssi. Mom lived well,” you say, ignoring the twinge in your chest. Any glimpse into mother’s life before she had you fills you with a certain homesickness, alongside the joy. “She was happy. And I’m sure she’d be happy to know that you are living well too.”

“Good. Good. She deserved happiness.” Sook-ja sighs, letting the information sink in. Only after one last kind smile does she finally seem to notice Yoongi standing beside you, trying his best not to intrude. “Now, is this handsome lord your companion? Perhaps your betrothed?”

“N-No!” You immediately cry, not wanting Yoongi to misunderstand, to think that his rank could be dragged so low as to match yours. Sook-ja should know that these class lines, even between yangban and cheonmin, are not so easily crossed. But the mischief in her gaze seems to suggest she doesn’t care much about that. “No, we’re just out. Together.”

“Yes. Out. Together,” Yoongi echoes, just as the door behind Sook-ja starts to open with a noisy creak.

A young woman dressed in a pretty hanbok steps out of the house with a smile. “Grandma, are you interrogating the customers again… Oh, hey! Kim-nim!”

All three of you turn your heads to look at Eunuch Kim, who couldn’t look more surprised at the woman’s appearance if Yoongi started growing a tail. He flusters, stepping back as if that could protect him. “Ahh, Chun-ja-ssi…! You’re, um, here! And you look, wow—” He almost drops the last piece of jeon altogether. “I was not expecting you to be here— I mean, not that I was thinking of you being elsewhere— Uh, not that I think about you that often—”

“This is my granddaughter,” Sook-ja explains, saving the poor man. “Chun-ja. She and her son, Han-jae, are the best parts of my life. She’s so clever, she can even read and write, you know!”

Chun-ja flushes under the praise. “My grandmother likes to exaggerate. But it’s very nice to meet you both,” she says, bowing in greeting as Sook-ja excuses herself, exiting through the same door.

Yoongi is once again smirking. “So, how do you know Kim-nim?”

“Mm, it was about two years ago? I was helping one of the merchants bring grain into the palace. Kim-nim saw me struggling with a particularly heavy pot, and so he helped me carry it. Since then, we chat for a bit every time he’s in town on an errand, and exchange the occasional letter! When he remembers to write me back, that is. Though his letters are often so lovely that I don’t mind the wait.” Chun-ja offers Eunuch Kim a grin that he can’t quite return with ease.

Yoongi has to work hard to keep his face relatively straight as he says, “hmm. So that is why he’s always disappearing from the palace with those weak excuses? And using all that ink? He always said it was for something important.”

“Seja— My lord! Please!” Spare me, Eunuch Kim’s wilted expression pleads. You have to hide your amusement behind a hand, lest you burst out with inappropriate laughter.

Once again, Sook-ja comes to the rescue as she shuffles out of the house, holding two familiar objects that make your eyes light up. “You’re both in luck. I knew we had a few extra this year, even after that rascal great-grandson of mine ruined a few with his roughhousing. He’d still be causing trouble if he weren’t off with his friends right now.” Sook-ja sighs. “I wish my grandson were still around to scold him. But anyway, I’d be happy if you’d take them!”

“Wish lanterns!” You exclaim, taking the lightly orange cloth contraption with glee. “Oh, I haven’t seen these up close in years.” The palace celebrations don’t usually include them, leaving you to try and catch the sight of the tiny, almost imperceptible lights floating into the sky from so far away. You’ve always loved the thought of the lamps surging towards that boundless sky, endlessly drifting, free to follow the wind.

“Do you know how to start it?” Chun-ja asks. You shake your head. “Let me show you.”

As Chun-ja explains the mechanisms behind the lantern to you, Yoongi reaches for his coin pouch. “We must give you something in exchange.” Yoongi produces several mun coins that are at least five times the lanterns’ actual worth, and tries to give them to her.

Sook-ja pushes his hand away. “No, no, it’s a present!”

“I insist.” Yoongi tries again, only to be rejected, again. He wonders if she would be so obstinate if she knew who he really was. (Probably yes.) “Alright… What if I take another item from the table to make it a fair trade?”

“Stubborn, aren’t you?” Sook-ja bursts into laughter, her belly shaking beneath her skirt. “Fine. Take your pick!”

Yoongi barely scans the accessories; he snatches up the bracelet you were looking at before and tucks it into his jeogori with a secret smile. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Sook-ja says warmly, before her smile dips down conspiratorially. “It’ll look good on her. Anyway, have fun! Enjoy the night.”

“I’m sure we will.” Yoongi shifts his attention to you. “All done? Then let’s keep going.”

“Yes, my lord,” you say, happily clutching the lanterns. “Thank you so much, Sook-ja-ssi. Chun-ja-ssi.”

Chun-ja beams. “Our pleasure. I hope we see each other in town again soon. And Kim-nim, don’t forget your letters!”

“Yes, of course, I will. I mean, I won’t. Forget, that is. Uh, I’ll write. G-Goodbye.” Eunuch Kim bows twice in quick succession before hurrying after you two, trying his best not to look back for one last glimpse of what he’s left behind.

You continue your wandering through the rest of the festival, marveling at the sheer strength of the wrestlers and then the elegance of the dancers. Absently, you wish this atmosphere could stay in place forever, and that everything else could just vanish into the smoke and ash of the burning campfires, but you know too well that life is a balance. And right now, with the prince’s silky sleeve pressed almost right against yours as you walk past a chorus of singers, the scales have temporarily tipped in your favor.

Eventually, all your wandering takes you to almost the outskirts of town, to an area you visited before with your mother. It takes some squinting but you eventually recognize the obscure path among the bushes, and immediately gesture towards it. The prince has shown you so much tonight; you want to return the favor, especially since his steps are beginning to slow. “This way! Please come with me.”

“Are you sure this is safe?” Eunuch Kim calls. “We cannot let anything happen to our lord!”

You start down the road. “Completely!”

It’s been so long since you last took these steps, but it all comes back to you effortlessly as you take the lead. It takes a few minutes, just a few, to reach the clearing you seek. And it is exactly as you remember it — the nature growing with a wild, greedy virility, the oddly shaped rocks studded in the dirt, and the reflecting pond, its water rippling from the drag of the autumn wind across its surface. There is no one here, which is exactly how you expected it to be.

“Here it is, seja-jeonha.”

“It’s quiet,” he marvels, and steps further in. He stops at the edge of the pond, staring not down but out, at the reflection of the full moon in its depths.

“I thought that you could use a change of environment. You look a little tired.” At this point, you know him well enough to tell that the neutrality of his expression shows subtle signs of weariness.

“The noise. It can be overwhelming at times. I’m not used to so much of it, usually. But I like the songs.”

You nod. “I understand perfectly! That’s why mom took me here in the first place. It used to be her secret spot when she was growing up.”

His arms shift, sleeves brushing the sides of his jacket. “She was a kind woman.”

“Very much so.”

You feel the breeze swiftly pick up, weaving through the strands of hair that have come loose from your up-do. The curling leaves around you rustle with welcome relief, bathing in the atmosphere, the rare tranquility of such a beautiful evening.

“Shall we float the lanterns?” You suggest after a spell.

“Sure.” Yoongi indicates for Eunuch Kim to bring the lanterns over. “Matches?”

Eunuch Kim fumbles in his robes for a few seconds before he realizes with a start that they’re just not there. “My apologies!” He bows. “I must have left the matches back at the booth!”

Yoongi sighs. “Too distracted by Chun-ja-ssi, hm?” Eunuch Kim flushes. “Go get them then.”

“But to leave you alone—”

“I’m not alone.”

Eunuch Kim looks between the prince and you a few times in rapid succession, his thoughts evidently as wavering as his eyes. He finally lands back on the prince.

“…Understood. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

You both watch him go, the quick pace of his steps no doubt brought on by anticipation.

“I can’t believe he’s been involved with a woman without any of us knowing,” Yoongi says, his tone betraying his real fondness.

“It’s sweet.” You smile, wondering if Eunuch Kim will ever manage to stop the stuttering long enough to actually tell Chun-ja how much he appears to like her. He is a mature man with most aspects, but apparently you’ve happened upon his one sole weakness. “But… He’ll probably be gone for a while. We won’t be able to light the lanterns.”

“I thought as much when I told him to go.”

“Well, it’s nice to take a break.” You don’t mention that you’d probably go anywhere and do anything, even if it’s just sitting around waiting, if it was with him. Instead, you look down at the pond, the water stilling enough for there to be a slightly blurry reflection of yourself awaiting below. “Hm. The water’s gotten a bit murkier these years. It used to be clear enough to see perfectly in. But it’s not so bad! Come look!”

Yoongi does. His pale face, all dark eyes and that rough, obvious scar, appears beside yours.

You fully intended on saying something else but that thought falls clear out of your mind when you realize just how undone your hair has become in all the bustle of the celebrations. I look like a mess, you think in a panic, hurriedly feeling for the strands to tuck them back. You’ve only managed to get one side fixed when a rock comes flying out of nowhere, plunging into the water with a noisy thunk! It disturbs both your reflections and wrecks the temporary mirror as cold droplets splash back.

“Hey!” You cry, leaping back from the pond to Yoongi’s grin. “What was that for?”

He has the audacity to look innocent. “Nothing. Haven’t you ever skipped rocks?”

“That was more a throw than a skip,” you grumble, checking your skirt as you hope it didn’t take too much damage. Thankfully, only a few drops actually landed on the precious fabric. “But yes, I love skipping rocks. Properly.”

“Here then.” You open your palm at Yoongi’s behest and he drops a stone into it. “Show me how to do it properly.”

You accept the challenge and plant one foot behind you, staring down a point in the middle of the pond, angling your arm as you position the stone in your hand. You most definitely look the part of an expert as you let the thing go. It shoots towards the water at a rapid speed, whooshing right through the air like a tiny bullet as it hits the surface at the angle and then proceeds to instantly sink to the bottom like, well, a rock.

Yoongi’s raucous laugh is no less than a roar, his entire body wracked with the exertion as he practically doubles over. He only gets louder when he sees the embarrassment on your face, the absolute mortification.

“I never said I was good at it…” You mutter, deciding to try a second time. This rock plummets right down to the watery floor too, refusing to save you even a little bit of face.

Yoongi’s settled into an infuriatingly smug look. “So, you can’t actually skip a stone. But you still love doing it?”

“That’s right.”

“Why?” He effortlessly makes a single skip before his pebble capsizes.

“I have a theory.” His curiosity piques at that; a turn of his head. “That it’s not up to us if the rock skips or not. Even if we have all the technique in the world,” you pick up another stone, “if the wind just happens to blow a bit harder, or if a fish from beneath disturbs the rhythm, or even if the tides themselves decide to surge up… It’ll fail. Or only skip the once. But—” You clutch the rock tightly in your hand and feel the weight, the cold, steady shape. “But if we wish hard enough. If we just keep trying every time we have the opportunity again and again…” This time, your rock is truly flying as it smacks the rippling water and skips a miraculous four times before finally dropping into the deep. “The universe might just make it happen.”

“…Or you need more practice.”

You shrug. “I’d rather believe that there are some things in the world simply out of our control. But that we can still hope for those things to shift, to change for the better if we never give up.”

Yoongi falls silent, staring at the ground through his downcast, delicate eyelashes. Maybe you said too much, you think. You didn’t mean to ramble. It’s just something you’ve thought about often. For these past months, it’s been the only thing keeping you going on the hardest, loneliest days. But you’ve made it. You’re still here. And by some miracle, he’s right here with you.

(You think maybe this is happiness.)

“I like that.” His eyes flick up to meet yours with an intensity that says he’s listening. He’s contemplating your thoughts and taking you seriously. He rubs the back of his neck, scratching at an invisible mark. “It’s a good theory. I… I understand it.”

There’s a weight to those words that you feel in the pit of your heart. A pull that draws you to him like the reckless tides towards his moon – a gravitational longing to know what truth vibrates beneath. You wonder if he feels it too.

“Seja-jeonha, I’ve returned!”

Eunuch Kim comes rushing back into the clearing, wielding the packet of matches. You both turn to him, letting the moment be whisked away with the wind whipping past the emerald robes, though you keep it safe in your memories. The eunuch has brought ink and brushes too, for you to write your wishes on the fabric itself. Increases the chance of their coming true, or so the legend goes.

After a few swishes of the brush, it doesn’t take long to light the fires. Your darkly inked characters are lit up by the flame, flickering staunchly beneath the opening as you each clutch a lantern in your hands and look at each other.

“What are you wishing for?” Yoongi asks.

“For more jeon,” is your reply, followed by an easy laugh that he echoes.

Then you let the lantern go as he does — two firebirds soaring side by side into the twinkling night.

a/n: *cue Can You Feel the Love Tonight playing softly in the background even though it hasn’t been invented yet*. hope you’re all enjoying sweet Yoon 🥺

#ficswithluv #bts fluff #bts imagines #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #min yoongi #historical au #rain writes #moonlit throne #... this is still a drabble series i swear haha #can you spot the members? 🤭

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beccanoodles · 4 years ago

Text

Spike and Faye Pairing Analysis

March 2021

Ah the hit or miss pairing of the century! If you don’t love it, you probably hate it lol. I’m a very analytical person so I love analyzing works of art and overall enjoy deep discussions about them too. I have SO much to say when it comes to Cowboy Bebop (and oh I plan to), but I have decided to start with my very own OTP. Here, I am not really going to discuss Spike and Faye’s feelings for each other, but rather why I think people are drawn to this pairing and why I think they're totally valid. Get ready for a long read!😁

⚠️SPOILER WARNING!!! [Major Cowboy Bebop and the movie Out of the Past spoilers]⚠️

First off, let’s clear something up. I am confident most of us can agree that Spike was in love with Julia. Some people assume Spike and Faye fans are deranged and disregard Spike and Julia’s romantic relationship to try and make something of Spike and Faye that never was. While some people may have their various theories and opinions on this, generally, I don’t think anyone denies Spike’s love for Julia. As we will see, this pairing is not really driven by who loves who...let’s first look on the surface.

I don’t know your experiences with the series, but in mine, every time I show this to people it never fails for someone to say something along the lines of,

“Wait, they don’t end up together?”

“Why didn’t he kiss her!?”

“He should have stayed with her...”

and so fourth.

Naturally, this pairing catches many eyes.

Think about it, you are given two really cool, really hot and really deep characters that are really fun to see together! There are so many parallels between the two and they are arguably the strongest characters of the bunch. Granted, you can agree with this and still not ship them, but these aspects are part of what opens up the door for many fans of the pairing.

However, there is certainly more to this pairing than them simply looking good together right? As the years pass and I’ve now seen the show multiple times, my understanding of it has evolved in many areas, Spike and Faye included.

Spike and Faye really couldn’t have ended up together. Sure, it’s a nice thought, but It would have been an entirely different show if they had. I don’t feel that the show should have happened any other way and I don’t think many other fans would either.

So, what am I saying here?

What’s the point of this paring if I don’t think they should have ended up together?

It is what's so frustrating about them, yet keeps you coming back and what honestly validates this pairing in my opinion. Spike and Faye are not driven by what is, but rather, what could be.

I personally feel the themes of classic film Noir are not discussed enough when it comes to Cowboy Bebop! This is one of the show's major influences, especially when it comes to the plot and characters.

One of the common tropes of a film noir is that of a protagonist who is drawn back into his past and ultimate doom, usually by the “seduction” of a femme fatale. In these movies, the women are either a femme fatale [devious, dangerous, mysterious, greedy, troubled, or unreliable] or a woman of virtue [reliable, dutiful, trustworthy, conventional and loving].

I am going to use the 1947 classic, Out of the Past to make my comparisons from here on out.

In Out of the Past, Jeff is a former detective who gets caught up in a love triangle between a gangster and his girlfriend Kathie, sound familiar? He attempts to run away with her, but is betrayed and runs off to start a new life in a new town. Here, he meets Ann and falls in love with her, but of course, his past catches up to him and he is drawn back into the world of criminals (largely by Kathie’s involvement). This ultimately results in his and Kathie’s deaths and Ann’s heartbreak.

Even though Kathie is the femme fatale in this movie, I found myself comparing her more to Julia’s role in the show, than to Faye’s and I found that Faye actually fit best in Ann’s role (this is a bit unusual considering Faye is typically seen as the femme fatale of this show).

Does that mean I think Julia was as ill intentioned as Kathie or that Spike fell in love with Faye? Well, not exactly, let’s look at it a bit further.

“The kind of beautiful, dangerous ordinary that you just can’t leave alone...Like an angel from the underworld or a devil from paradise.”

Most of what we get about Julia is from Spike’s point of view. From this, we learn she is at the center of Vicious and Spike’s conflict, but aside from that she is basically depicted as “The Virtuous Woman” of a noir. The colors around her are warm and she is shown caring for Spike. There is an innocence and modestly about her as well.

Yet, when we finally do meet Julia, we get a different image. We know she is tied up with dangerous men, but is she herself a dangerous woman?

She is certainly capable of betrayal.

Suddenly she is a bad-ass-gun-toting woman in leather and black, surrounded by hues of grey and dark blue. Intentional or not, Julia is a major part of what lures Spike back into the past and ultimately to his death. In this case, Julia is the femme fatale of Spike’s story and thus, their relationship is doomed from the start.

Faye, on the other hand, is portrayed in somewhat of a contrast. When we first meet her, she is the clear cut femme fatale, appearing cunning, strong willed and seductive. However, we soon find that she has quite a bit of kindness and naivety hidden behind her facade. She uses the former tactics as a way of emotional (and probably physical) protection. Gren points this out in his conversation with her.

Gren,

“You’re just afraid they’d abandon you so you abandoned them. You distanced yourself from the whole thing.”

As the show progresses, we start to see less of her “femme fatale nature” and something more genuine. Think about it, between Hard Luck Woman and RFB Part 2 we don’t see much of Faye as her typical conniving or unreliable self, aside from changing the course of the Bebop maybe. Sure she takes off, but it isn’t at all for the same reasons she did in Jupiter Jazz or Speak Like a Child, for example.

I would argue we actually see her more trustworthy and caring than ever. Since I don’t want to spend too much time talking about Faye’s character development (not here at least) I’ll give one example of this.

When she returns to the Bebop after her encounter with Julia in RFB Part 1, she gives Spike the message, even though the outcome might hurt her (i.e. he leaves and/or dies). While she does first say “It’s gonna cost you,” she doesn’t really mean it because she tells him without hesitation only moments later.

This isn’t to say Faye good, Julia bad. Both women have their layers and even though we know way more about Faye, I don’t get the impression that Julia is selfish and cunning like Kathie was. But I do get the feeling she was enclosed in a world of crime and betrayal the way Kathie was. We really only know the basics of Spike and Julia’s situation. Who knows the details like motive or how long it lasted etc. etc. We can only speculate...

There is a scene towards the end of Out Of The Past, where Kathie tells Jeff to go away with her. This time it is her asking him, just like Julia asks Spike. During this she mentions,

“I never told you I was anything but what I am, you just wanted to imagine I was. That’s why I left you.”

This got me thinking...did Spike imagine Julia as something she wasn’t? Or something he wanted her to be that she just couldn’t be?

It could explain why we get such contrasted images of her.

There are themes of this “dreamlike” relationship between Jeff and Kathie, similar to Spike and Julia’s “It was all a dream.”

The two of them were going to “live and be free,” probably something neither of them knew how to do and most likely wouldn’t have been able to get away with.

When Jet asks Spike if he can just forget the past, this is his answer.

Spike,

“There was a woman. For the first time in my life I saw a woman that was truly alive. At least that’s what I thought. She was the part of me I had lost, that part that was missing, that I had been longing for.”

I always wondered about this, because Spike is clearly talking about Julia, but right after is when Faye shows up. To me, that spoke volumes...

Faye is a woman who is terribly human and terribly alive.

Going back to Faye and Ann, I find their similarities shine not so much in the “Virtuous Woman,” concept, but rather in Ann’s dedication to Jeff and her optimism for the future. She is also the last person to talk to Jeff before he leaves for the final time, as if he were being presented with one last alternative. Spike spends his last moments with Faye as well, in which she basically begs him not to go and keep him in the present that she has now discovered for herself. She may be stuck, but she is definitely someone that yearns for human connection, love, and life.

The problem is, Spike and Faye are both set in opposite directions. Her’s leads to a future and Spike knows this because he points it out early on (My Funny Valentine). He also knows, his most likely does not. He has already dug himself too deep into this hole, if you will, that there is really no turning back.

But let’s say none of that was an issue? What could be?

I sat and watched this movie (Out of the Past) with my mom. She didn’t know anything about it and didn’t know why I was watching it. I wanted her genuine reaction. The whole time she was getting mad at Jeff until the very end. I asked her why and she said that she wanted him to be able to live happily with Ann. I explained to her why he had to do what he did. She understood this, but still couldn’t help but be sad at how things turned out for him, when they could have been good.

Even though Kathie and Jeff are the “lovers,” of this movie, you don’t really want them to end up together. Forget that Kathie has a devious nature, regardless, you know where it has to end and you don’t want to see your hero die.

Like Kathie, Julia symbolizes Spike’s inevitable doom and Like Ann, Faye symbolizes his possible future.

“I’ll be with you till the end”

“You’re the one still tied to the past Spike!”

“Why do you have to go? Where are you going? What are you gonna do, just throw your life away like it was nothing?!”

It’s two sides of a sad coin...

We want Spike to have a future and because we love the characters of the show, it would be really great if he could have it with them, but that is where the tragedy is. It's only an idea we can think about, a possibility presented to us as it was to Jeff and Spike before their deaths.

The bottom line is, when it comes to Spike and Faye you are really only given a taste. You are not given what you expect to see, which is why I say this ship is driven by what could be. As it is with most of the character relationships in the show, no major breakthroughs are made until the very end, when it's too late. Then it just feels like such wasted potential, but sometimes in life, that's how it is. And thus, we have been given a very classic noir here ladies and gentlemen!

So no, I don’t think people miss the mark when they ship Spike and Faye, nor do I find they invalidate the show by any means. I kind of like that Watanabe switched it up and didn’t do the expected, but left us those subtle hints. He didn’t outright give Spike another lover, but he gave us someone that represents what he could have. Kind of does that with the crew as a whole too!

UGH. I love-hate this show and I love this pairing! Thank you for reading my thoughts and I know this may not be the case or reasoning for everyone, but just based on what I have seen around the community and where this show draws inspiration, this is what I have concluded. I didn’t get into Spike and Faye’s feelings for each other because it gets a little more theoretical there, but I would like to do a post on my thoughts on that as well sometime. I also didn’t touch too much on Spike’s reasoning for choosing to face Vicious in the end, just because I know that will only lead into a whole other analysis lol. But you know I have my thoughts on that and certainly plan to share them 😎 Also, I know I basically spoiled it, but Out of the Past is such a great movie!! I think if you’re a fan of this show it's definitely worth a watch! There are so many more parallels to Cowboy Bebop that I didn’t even mention. Anyways, thanks again and talk to you soon!

#Cowboy Bebop #Spike and Faye #spike x faye #analysis #cowboy bebop analysis #pairing analysis #pairing #my ship #out of the past #film noir #did i mention #I LOVE THIS SHOW #YES i've been working on this for two weeks like i was writing a midterm essay for school #DON'T JUDGE ME 🤓😂#OOTP is really good watch it #last scene gives me chills😨#spaye #faye x spike #faye and spike

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youneedasoultraveller · 5 years ago

Note

Is the popular headcanon that Nicky was illiterate, stupid and barbaric fitting in the stereotypes about Southern Europeans / Mediterraneans ? I’m guessing it’s from the American part of the fandom that’s choosing to not respectfully write Nicky since he is white while being virulent towards anybody that doesn’t perfected and accurately write Joe because he is MENA.

Hello!

Mind you, I am neither a psychologist, a sociologist nor a historian, so of course be aware these are my own views on the whole drama.

But to answer your question, yes, I personally think so. It definitely comes from the American side, but I have seen Northern Europeans do that too, often just parroting the same type of discourse that Anglos whip out every other day.

There is an abysmal ignorance of Medieval history – even more so when it concerns countries that are not England: there is this common misconception that Europe in the Middle Ages was this cultural backwater full of semi-barbaric people that stems unfortunately not only from trying to (correctly) reframe colonialist approaches to the historiographies of non-European populations (that is, showing the Golden Age of Islamic culture, for instance, as opposed to what were indeed less culturally advanced neighbours), but also from distortions operated by European themselves from the Renaissance onwards, culminating in the 18th century Enlightenment philosophes categorising the Middle Ages as the Dark Ages.

Now this approach has been time and time again proven to be a made-up myth. I will not go into detail to disprove each and every single one misconception about the Medieval era because entire books have been written, but just to give you an example: there was no such a thing as a ius primae noctis/droit du seigneur; people were aware that the Earth was not flat (emperors, kings, saints, etc, they were depicted holding a globe in their hands); people were taking care of their hygiene, either through the Roman baths, or natural springs, or private tubs that the wealthier strata of the population (and especially the aristocracy) owned. The Church was not super happy about them not because it wanted people to remain dirty, but because often these baths were for both men and women, and it was not that in favour of them showing off their bodies to one another. Which, you know, we also don’t do now unless you go to nudist spas. It was only during the Black Death in the 14th century that baths were slowly abandoned because they became a place of contagion, and they went into disuse (or better, they changed purpose and became something like bordellos). And, lastly, there was certainly a big chunk of the population that was illiterate, but certainly it was not the clergy, which was THE erudite class of the time. It was in monasteries and abbeys that knowledge was passed and preserved (as well as lost unfortunately often, such as the case for the largest part of classical literature).

So what does this mean? According to canon, Nicolò was an ex priest who fought in the First Crusade. This arguably means that at the very least he was a cadet son of a minor noble family (or a wealthy merchant one) who was part of the clergy. As such, historically he could have been neither illiterate nor a dirty garbage cat in his daily life.

Let’s then talk geography. Southern Europe (and France) was far, far more advanced than the North at the time and Italy remained the cultural powerhouse of the continent until the mid-17th century. Al Andalus in the Iberian Peninsula, the Italian States, the Byzantine Empire (which called itself simply Roman Empire, whose population defined itself as Roman and cultural heirs of the Latin and Greek civilisations): these places have nothing to do with popular depictions of Medieval Europe that you mainly see from the Anglos. Like @lucyclairedelune rightfully pointed out: not everyone was England during the plague.

Also the Middle Ages lasted one thousand years. As a historical age, it’s way longer than anything we had after that. So of course habits varied, there was a clear collapse right after the fall of the Western Roman Empire, but then things develop, you know?

Anyway, back to the point in question. Everything I whipped up is not arcane knowledge: it’s simply having studied history at school and spending a few hours reading scientific articles on the internet which are not “random post written by random Anglo on Tumblr who can hardly find Genoa on a map”.

Nicolò stems from that culture. The most advanced area in Europe, possibly a high social class, certainly educated, from Genoa, THE maritime superpower of the age (with…Venice). It makes absolutely no sense that he would not be able to speak anything past Ligurian: certainly Latin (the ecclesiastical one), maybe the koine Greek spoken in Constantinople, or Sabir, or even the several Arabic languages from the Med basin stretching from al Andalus to the Levant. Because Genoa was a port, and people travel, bring languages with them, use languages to barter.

And now I am back to your question. Does this obstinacy in writing him as an illiterate beast (basically) feed into stereotypes of Mediterranean people (either from the northern or the southern shore)? It does.

It is a typically Anglo-Germanic perspective that of describing Southern (Catholic) Europeans are hot-headed, illiterate bumpinks mindlessly driven by blind anger, lusts and passions, as opposed to the rational, law-abiding smart Northern Protestants. You see it on media. I see it in my own personal life, as a Southern Italian living in Northern Europe for 10 years.

Does it sound familiar? Yes, it’s the same harmful stereotype of Yusuf as the Angry Brown Man. But done to Nicolò as the Angry Italian Man (not to mention the fact that, depending on the time of day and the daily agenda of the Anglo SJW Tumblrite, Italians can be considered either white or non-white).

Now, the times where Nicolò is shown as feral are basically when he is fighting (either in a bloody war or against Merrick’s men) or when Yusuf is in danger. Because, guess what, the man he loves is being hurt. What a fucking surprise.

Nicolò is simply being reduced to a one dimensional stereotype of the dirty dumb angry Italian, and people are simply doing this because they do not seem to accept the fact that both he and Yusuf are two wonderfully complex, flawed, fully-fledged multidimensional characters.

So I am mainly concentrating on Nicolò here because as an Italian I feel more entitled to speak about the way I see the Anglo fandom treating him and using stereotypes on him that have been consistently applied to us by the Protestant Northerners. I keep adding the religious aspect because, although I am an atheist who got debaptised from the Catholic Church, a big part of the historical treatment towards Southern has to do with religion and the contempt towards Catholic rituals and traditions (considered, once again, a sign of cultural backwardness by the enlightened North).

I do not want to impose my view of Yusuf because there are wonderful Tumblr users from MENA countries who have already written wonderful metas of the way Yusuf is being depicted by non-MENA people (in particular Americans), especially (again) @lucyclairedelune and @nizarnizarblr.

However, I just want to underline that, by only ever writing Yusuf as essentially a monodimensional character without a single flaw, this takes away Yusuf’s canon multidimensionality, the right he has to feel both positive but also negative feelings (he was hurt and angry at Booker’s betrayal, allegedly his best friend, AND HE HAD EVERY RIGHT TO BE – and I say this as a Booker fan as well).

I have not been the first to say these things, it is nothing revolutionary, and it exactly complements what the MENA tumblr users in the TOG fandom have also been trying to say. Both of us as own voices people who finally have the chance to have two characters that are fully formed and honest representations of our own cultures, without stereotypes or Anglogermanic distortions.

And the frustration mounting among all of us comes from the fact that the Anglos are, once again, not listening to us, even telling us we are wrong about our own cultures (see what has happened to Lucy and Nazir).

What is even more frustrating is that everything in this cursed fandom – unless it was in the film or comics – is just a bloody headcanon. But these people are imposing their HCs as if it were the Word of God, and attacking others – including own voices MENA and Italians – for daring to think otherwise.

I honestly don’t expect this post will make any difference because this is just a small reflection of what Americans do in real life on grander scale, which is thinking they are the centre of the world and ignoring that the rest of the world even exists regardless of their own opinions on it.

But still, sorry for the length, hope I answered your question.

#i am also expecting to receive lots of shit for this but can't say i care #the old guard #tog discourse #nicolo di genova #the old guard meta

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas · 4 years ago

Note

Weak sauce, give us SEXY lesbabes, coward

You want sexy lesbians??? Aight let's fucking go.

"Thanks so much for this, Urbosa."

"Of course Impa. The boy has been taking his fair share of vacations, it's about time you have a turn."

Impa was finally able to take a small break from everything, and what better place to relax, than a place full of pretty women? Not to mention the hot sun, and plenty of cold drinks. She took a sip of her noble pursuit, relishing in just how refreshing it was.

"I just, don't like taking too much time away from the princess. But she said I was too stressed out, so she sent me out here. Not that I WOULDN'T want to spend time with you, lady Urbosa."

"No need for formalities, Impa. You’re a guest here. One so close to Zelda, yet one I realized I don’t know very well. I know only the things everyone else knows.”

Impa watched her as she plucked a wild berry from one of the plates. She was very generous with the food she provided, and they both seemed unable to control their appetites.

“That everyone else knows? Like what?”

“That you’re young, that you function well with a kodachi, and of course the obvious one.”

“Obvious one?”

“That you like Zelda. A little more than most.”

Impa opened her mouth to protest, but her raised brow let her know that it was pointless. She sighed, hiding her blushing face in her hand.

“Okay, yeah. I do like her. A lot. Am I THAT obvious?”

“To everyone but Daruk. Told him last night, he didn’t believe me at first. He was also the last one to know about Mipha’s feelings for Link.”

“Seriously?”

“I know, that’s what I thought. Regardless, you have no reason to be ashamed. Zelda is a lovely young lady, and knights falling for the princess is a tale as old as time. If anything, I saw it coming a mile away.”

Impa wanted to just leave. She would have honestly, had Urbosa not wrapped an arm around her in clear comfort. Impa looked up at her smiling face, and Impa understood that Zelda trusted her so much. So kind, so understanding. Impa sighed.

“So it’s not...BAD that I like her as much as I do?”

“Not at all, little one. I think your only problem is you, if I can be frank with you.”

Impa folded her arms across her chest in thought, before she pulled one hand away, using it to wag her finger at some imaginary being in front of her.

“I just don’t see how she can like ME like that! I understand why she’d like Link, but I’m not HIM! I’m me! Link would know what to do here, I don’t.”

Urbosa chuckled, lightly patting the top of her head.

“You just struggle with your feelings. You’re so nervous around girls, I can tell.”

“Not ALL girls! Just...the really pretty ones.”

Impa found herself shrinking into her side as one of the many servants came in to fetch one of the plates. Urbosa shook her head as she saw Impa looking. The plight of the lesbians, she understood it perfectly.

“I understand, Impa. You know, I was a lot like you at your age. Only difference was, I never stood a chance. Don’t tell Zelda this, but...I used to be with her mother.”

Impa looked at her in shock, and she could only smile. The reaction was fairly appropriate.

“You were with the QUEEN?!”

“For a short period of time, yes. In fact, we planned on running away together upon hearing of her arranged marriage to King Rhoam. Then...something happened. She actually fell in love with him. He’s as stern as an oak now, but back in the day, he was quite the charmer.”

Impa was quiet for a moment, clearly interested in the story.

“How did you agree to be allies with his majesty after this?”

“I almost didn’t. I was about to start a war over her hand. But then she asked me to instead, stay by her side. No longer as her lover, but as her best friend. I almost didn’t accept it. But love is funny like that, so I vowed I would be there for her. Then, I vowed to be there for Zelda. So...here we are. I still love her, deep in my heart. So when I say I understand what you’re going through, I mean that.”

Impa sat there in thought, letting Urbosa take more nibbles of her fruit, before her eyes were back at the tempest.

“How...did you two even happen?”

“Funny story. I was TERRIBLY shy around her when we first met. Then my friends dared me to kiss her. I was so full of pride back then, I never refused a challenge, so that’s what I did. I kissed her. It went downhill from there. Who knows, maybe that’ll work for you and Zelda, eh?”

She nudged the little lady at her side, which made Impa blush something fierce.

“I...I’ve never kissed ANYONE before, honestly. I feel like If I tried, I’d just make things weird.”

“I could show you.”

Impa froze. No way did she just hear what she thought she heard. Their eyes met, and Impa chuckled. Clearly she was misunderstanding.

“I’m SO sorry, Urbosa, for a second there I thought you suggested you teach me how to kiss-”

“I did suggest this. You want to practice, I have a lot of experience. If you aren’t interested, that is fine. But Zelda having her first kiss is a good one...well, I’m sure that’s something you want.”

Impa opened her mouth to tell her how crazy that idea was, when Urbosa leaned down to hold her chin, lifting it up as she bent down a bit.

“You miss every shot you don’t take, Impa. I will not force you, but I fail to see why this isn’t a good idea.”

Impa thought about it. No one would know. It’d be just them. It’d be good practice for her. Not to mention...well. Who could say they kissed THE Urbosa? Arguably one of the hottest ladies out there? She dwelled on it, before meekly nodding.

“I...okay. So long as you’re patient with me, I guess.”

“I can assure you, I am a very patient teacher. Now, why don’t you go first, let me see what I’m working with?”

Impa leaned in, which was apparently funny, given how she covered her lips behind her hand. She felt her own face turn beet red.

“What?”

“You’re too tense, and you’re keeping your eyes open. Relax those shoulders, close your eyes. It’s not a fight, it’s a kiss.”

Impa took a deep breath, before nodding. There was not a thing to be scared of here. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and leaned in. Urbosa leaned in at the same time, and Impa tried not to freak out. She was sitting right here, kissing Urbosa, right on her lips! The tempest pulled away after a moment, nodding in thought.

“Not bad, but you surely need more practice. Let me show you how I kiss.”

Urbosa leaned in again, pressing her lips against hers. It was a kiss, just like before, only...way different. Urbosa’s lips were so firm, while simultaneously being so soft. Urbosa even placed her hand right at her stomach, pushing her flat onto one of the pillows she had thrown around. She held her down, all while she continued to kiss her, softly groaning into her mouth. Urbosa pulled away after a moment, carefully wiping her smudged blue lipstick as she looked down at Impa.

“Elements of surprise really make a kiss more memorable. I take it you won’t forget this one, and not just because it’s your first.”

Impa gave a light shake of her head, with the room spinning a little bit. What a kiss. Urbosa leaned down a bit, with her nose poking Impa’s.

“Now, your turn. Do it again, but add a little something to it. Go on, surprise me.”

Impa nodded, leaning her head up a bit in order to press her lips against Urbosa’s. She put a little more ‘oomph’ into the kiss this time around, even getting bold enough to stick her tongue into her mouth. The feel of someone’s tongue was something else. So wet, so warm, it made butterflies in her stomach. Urbosa pulled away with a chuckle, sensing that the little one needed to breathe. Impa cleared her throat, smearing blue lipstick that had spread over her mouth.

“So...surprised?”

“It wasn’t bad at all, honestly. It helps that you’re such a pretty girl.”

Impa could squeal. Helpless lesbian she was, the idea of a big, strong lady calling her ‘pretty girl’ made her just weak. She shook a bit as Urbosa’s finger trailed from her lips, down to her chest.

“If you’d like, I can show you other tricks aside from kissing. Not that there’s any pressure on my end.”

Impa looked around, unsure. This wasn’t weird though, right? Couldn’t be. She nodded, a bit more eagerly than she intended to. Urbosa chuckled, and got to work. Sheikah clothes were a bit conservative, with quite the amount of layers. It took her a good minute to get Impa in just her underwear and bra. Urbosa clicked her tongue.

“I understand it’s the clothes of your people, but you dress so modestly. It’s such a shame. You have such an adorable frame.”

Urbosa’s lips trailed from her cheek, to her neck, stopping just short of her chest. She was about to pull it away, when Impa held a finger up. Her cheeks were on fire, and her amber eyes were defiant.

“Hey, YOU’RE still dressed! That’s not fair!”

Urbosa blinked in surprise, before throwing her head back in laughter. Fiery little thing. She sat up, straddling the girl at this point.

“Alright, fair point, little sheikah.”

She reached behind her, undoing her chest armor, and her bra she often wore right under that. She wasn’t surprised when Impa stared at her well endowed chest, clearly having a gay panic. To taunt the poor thing further, she stood up, peeling away her skirt, tossing her black panties right at her chest, and showing her red pubic hair. Minus her heels, she was pretty much fully nude now.

“Happy?”

“I...uh...I…”

Impa was at a loss for words. Surprise surprise. Urbosa let her get a good look, before she knelt down, and pulled away her bra. She chuckled, honestly swooning over her cute little body.

"Oh you are precious. Such a lithe little frame, and such a cute chest."

Her chest was nowhere near her size, but rather, on the small end. Not that Urbosa minded, a chest was a chest. Though Impa didn't seem to agree, given how she covered her chest in clear embarrassment.

"I-i get it, okay? I'm kinda...small, especially compared to you and-"

She was silenced by Urbosa’s finger yet again.

“Don’t put yourself down now, Impa. Women like confidence. You have a lovely body, I daresay our little princess would be fond of it. If you’d just open up a bit.”

Urbosa was careful as she held her hands, slowly pulling them away from her body. Her actions were bold, but oh so delicate, and poor Impa didn’t stand a chance in hell. She got so nervous, but she made no marks to stop her. This was all advice given to her by a stunning woman? Who was she to refuse? Any doubt in her mind was erased the second her tongue grazed over one of her breasts. That actually happened. Her body froze in surprise, but Urbosa wouldn’t let her process it; kissing and suckling at her breast with one hand, with her other hand holding her body oh so close to her.

“That’s...new. Definitely new. But I don’t think the p-princess would let me do that.”

Urbosa kept at it for a moment, smearing more or her lipstick on her body as she suckled on her, letting her talented tongue graze across her perky little nipples. By the time she decided to take a break, Impa was laying there, a shaking, trembling mess.

“And why not? I have yet to find a woman who doesn’t like this, provided they know what they’re doing. Not to mention your nipples are SO eager, it’s rather cute. Why don’t you practice a bit on me?”

Urbosa sat back up, before laying back amongst her pillows. Impa somehow made herself sit up to get a good look at her. A huge set of breasts, nice wide hips, and a pussy that looked good enough to eat. She gulped, before nodding to herself. For the princess. She crawled up to her, cupping them both in her hands.

“Geez, I didn’t know they could GET this big. Really surprised the armor holds it all.”

“I’m no bigger than most Gerudo women, actually. I do however, taste better.”

She put her hand behind Impa’s head, and pulled, forcing her face into her chest. Impa took the hint, and helped herself. She massaged at her chest, slowly and deeply, while her mouth nibbled and suckled at her tits, occasionally tugging on the nipples with her soft, soft mouth. Then Urbosa moaned. It was as sensual as a moan could get; loud, with her head tossed back in pleasure. She chuckled as her eyes met with Impa’s.

“Mmmm...you aren’t half bad. But then again, it’s been a while since I’ve had a cute little vai in my arms. You’re so pretty, sucking on me like that. You like this, don’t you? Like how you feel smothered by them?”

She pressed her chest together, stuffing Impa’s face full of prime Gerudo boob. And holy shit, did it make her twitch. Urbosa chuckled, moving her chest back and forth for a moment, before finally letting the poor girl breathe. Impa was full on panting now, eagerly suckling on her breasts in a means to please the incredible woman in her arms. Urbosa was giving her just that, letting Impa have free reign while she rubbed at her wet pussy in fast, small circles.

“Oh that’s it little vai...suck on me, make me feel SO nice and wet.”

Impa was ashamed that she could feel herself dripping on the floor, but at the moment, she didn’t care. She just knew Urbosa looked so lovely, writhing and moaning and pleasuring herself. It came to a halt when Urbosa pushed her head away, Impa caught with her tongue out.

“You really like tasting. Try this.”

She stuck her wet fingers right into Impa’s mouth, and she didn’t refuse them. She was sitting here, with Urbosa’s pussy juices being shoved into her mouth. And it tasted SO good. She held onto her hand, slurping and sucking the fingers, in a desperate attempt to get more. She laughed, letting her have her moment.

“You like how I taste, don’t you?”

“Yes, Lady Urbosa. You’re so good, and so rich...it’s better than any dessert I’ve ever had.”

“Well then. Why don’t I treat you?”

She pulled her fingers away, and Impa mourned the loss. That is, until Urbosa parted her stunning legs, lightly biting her nail as she looked at Impa oh so alluringly.

“Devour me, little sheikah girl. Make the great Urbosa cum in her own home.”

“Yes, Lady Urbosa.”

Impa practically dove right in, shoving her face right into her, with a monster grip to her big, meaty thighs.

“Oh! EAGER little fox!”

Urbosa laughed, wrapping her legs around her head, keeping her nestled right where she was. Impa didn’t know if she was doing it right, but that didn’t keep her from enjoying the rich, sweet juices she was pouring down her throat.

“Oh that’s it….ooh you’re SO thirsty for a drink. This IS the first time you’ve tasted a woman. Wait till you make me cum. It’s so sweet, it’ll flood your pretty mouth, and you’ll only want more.”

Impa believed her. It was so delicious, suckling at the folds that hung out of her, watching Urbosa grope and pinch at her own chest in an attempt to make her cum faster. Impa had no idea sex was like this. Full of discovery and interest. She pulled away for air, for but a brief moment, shaking as if she was exhausted.

“PLEASE give me a taste, Urbosa! I NEED to know how a woman tastes when she cums! Please please please!”

Impa did her part, diving right back in. It smelled...different than how she imagined. It didn’t smell like roses or candy, but smelled musky, lewd. And she loved it. Impa loved how it tasted NOTHING like she had thought they would. It was so much better, knowing the truth. Even the sounds were better. Cute moans were nice, but Urbosa was LOUD, hungry to chase her orgasm.

“I’m SO close, I’m SO close, just keep DEVOURING me!!”

Her moans were passionate, so full of emotion, it was breathtaking. But not as breathtaking as when she dug her nails into her hair, forced her nose into her pubic hair, and came. She cried out as she did so, and Impa was stunned. So much hot fluid spilled into her mouth, feeling hot as it trickled down her throat. Women...tasted SO good when they came. Urbosa swore a bit in relief, letting Impa’s soaked face finally be free. Impa sat there, panting, cum covering her face, before she spoke.

“That...was incredible. Women taste so...so good.”

Impa dove in for another kiss, which Urbosa accepted, simultaneously digging her nails into her ass. Impa moaned loudly, FAR louder than she had to anything else, and that made Urbosa chuckle.

“Hmmm...something to explore later. For now, let’s focus on something other than eating, you’re already pretty good at that, even by eagerness alone.”

Urbosa laid on her side, pulling Impa right up to her. Urbosa kissed her cheek, before she hiked one of her legs over hers.

“U-urbosa-”

Urbosa’s fingers slowly rubbed her soaked little pussy in small, slow circles. All while her other hand was cupping at her small, soft breast. She chuckled into her cute little ear, loving how it shook her whole body.

“Pay close attention to how this feels, Impa. First, we rub the outside, nice and slowly. You treat your woman like art. With tenderness, passion...a bit of awe, even.”

Impa couldn’t say anything as Urbosa trailed kisses up her neck, all while oh she oh so slowly rubbed at her outside. So slowly and tenderly, smearing her own pussy juices across her own pubic hair.

“Take this time to sweet talk her. Tell her something you like. For example, I like how you’ve never shaved. It’s the right amount of cute little hair down here, and it’s oh so precious. See? You whimpered at that.”

Impa was hiding her face in her hand, trying not to moan like crazy. The way she held her legs open, the way her hands massaged her in a way her own hands never did, even the way she whispered in her ear.

“I didn’t...know I’m supposed to shave.”

“You don’t have to, most do however. It just really shows that you have so little experience. It’s SO cute, you’re lucky I didn’t bring my guards in here, they’d eat you up.”

She even nipped at her neck, as if that’d prove her point further. Impa put her hand over Urbosa’s, trying to get a feel for that slow rhythm she was setting.

“C...can you put it in yet?”

“Mmmm...not just yet, little fox. Unless you’d ask nicely, then I suppose I could speed things up.”

Impa had so much pride inside of her, it was so difficult to swallow it all, but she made herself do just that.

“Please Urbosa...I want to know how to do this properly, for her. I want her to feel like this. Please, don’t make me suffer by not letting me feel you.”

“Oh how am I supposed to say no to that?”

Urbosa chuckled. Kissing her forehead, she finally pushed a finger in. Not too quickly, not too toughly. Just enough to get that breath of hers hitching, and her body shaking. Urbosa still kept it nice and slow, merely teasing her already soaked insides. Impa was already so ready to cum, it was just the cutest thing. Urbosa kissed her neck again, watching her shake even further.

“There we go. See how slowly I’m going? See how I’m looking for that nice, steady pace? I’m looking for something. Something very-”

She swore she saw that shiver travel up her spine. There it was. Her cute G-spot. She kissed at her nose, before keeping their foreheads pressed together.

“Pay attention. Because once you master this, I doubt any woman could keep their hands off of you.”

Once she slipped another finger inside, she began her attack. Normally she wouldn’t do this to such a newbie, but she couldn’t help it. Her pussy was so eager to learn, her body was lithe and soft, and her voice. Oh her voice. Her cries of ecstasy as she fingered her cute little pussy so quickly was enough to make a heart melt. Impa kept crying out in pleasure, squirming as she felt herself quickly being shoved right off the edge. The lewd sounds of her wet pussy only made this more tasty to the Gerudo woman.

“U-urbosa! Oh my GOD URBOSA!!”

“Look at me in my eyes. That’s it, good girl. You’re going to cum, and it’s going to feel so good. Remember it, so SHE can feel good. This is for Zelda. So when you cum, cry for her, understand?”

“Yes! Yes yes YES!-”

Poor thing was near tears. Urbosa could see her eyes get misty in lust, and with a rather adorable squeal, she came, crying out the princess’s name as she slipped into pleasure, the likes of which she had never seen. It was so much, she just sat there, limp like a fish, gasping for air. Urbosa chuckled, slowly pulling her fingers out and taking a long, good lick of them. Ah, the cum of a lovely little virgin. Such a treat.

“Now, if you do all of that, little fox, suffice to say, she’ll be putty in your hands. Assuming you’ll be alright after this?”

Impa, though trembling, gave her a thumbs up.

“H..holy shit...I...i really like girls.”

#asks #impa #urbosa #lemon #imagine losing your virginity to an absolute mommy #impa has never been MORE sure that she was lesbian after this tbh #and 'little fox' feels like her because she has just such pretty eyes #pretty lil face perfect for carrying those monster gazangas

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twomanyideas · 4 years ago

Text

Through the Spyglass

A collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404

Gratsu Weekend 2021 Prompt: Secret Pairing(s): Gray x Natsu, Sting x Rogue For @walkinginfiction

AO3 | Next: Ch 2 Summary:

“You little pervert!” Sting teased, “You’ve been watching him, haven’t you?”

“I haven’t!”

“Bullshit! How else would you have known that?”

“I -,” Natsu tried to think of any other way he could have discovered that little fact, but came up empty. “It’s only been a few times, I swear! I was just trying to find an excuse to approach him.” He hid his face in his hands, embarrassed at being found out.

“Well, lucky for you, I’ve got just the thing!

Chapter 1

“Nghh, that’s soooo good!”

It mattered little to Natsu whether his housemate Sting was fucking his new boyfriend Rogue or just eating. He’d already discovered the hard way that it was impossible to tell the difference from their sounds. Each one a reminder that while Sting was feasting, Natsu was very much in the middle of a famine.

“You like that?”

Natsu scowled in response. Did they have to be so fucking loud? He turned his stereo on, determined to drown out the noises that were coming from the room next door. It helped a little, but not enough to distract him from what may or may not be happening. And it was late enough there’d be nowhere for him to go.

Where were those comic books he’d been meaning to catch up on? A quick glance around his room was enough to let him know there was no way in hell he was finding anything. Clothes, both clean and dirty, littered the floor and just about every other available surface except his closet. Sealed boxes lined up the walls, waiting for him to get his shit together and finally unpack.

Fiine.

He grabbed as many clothes as he could carry and made his way to their laundry room, also known as the bathroom.

Lalala I can’t hear you, he thought as he walked past Sting’s closed door, although of course he could, and now Rogue was joining in, expressing his approval at what must arguably be the most delicious ice cream sundae ever fucking made.

Why had he agreed to room with Sting again?

Open the washer door, chuck clothes inside, pour detergent in the dispenser and hit start. Great, ten points for adulting. Covering his ears with his hands, he hurried back to his room, grabbed the nearest box and sat down, using his pocketknife to open it up. Might as well get started on some of those now that he could walk around his room again.

That was his intent, but in the end he couldn’t help but examine the items one by one, fascinated by what he found among them. To be fair, even he would admit most of it was junk. He had no recollection of how he’d ended up with most of it, but that’s what made them so fascinating.

Score!

Finding a container of spicy jalapeño cotton candy, age unknown, he shoved some into his mouth. It was a little stale, but perfectly edible.

He placed the textbooks on the floor without a second look, having already seen more of them than he ever wanted to. There were some more clothes, the exercise ones he’d been searching for, for quite some time.

He scratched his head, wondering who the hell had packed this box. A set of three sex dice, a gag gift from Loke, were next. Maybe he should give them to Sting. He’d certainly get more use out of them.

Knit Your Own Boyfriend, another gag gift from Sting this time, joined the textbooks on the floor. Porn for Women, a book which had pictures of guys doing household chores and shit, almost joined it until Natsu realized some models in it were pretty hot. He’d keep that one.

101 Ways to Annoy Your Roommate

He glared at the wall between their rooms. Yep, keeping that one too.

Next came decision dice with messages like Fuck it, Fuck that and Fuck If I Know, followed by a nose flute, a bottle of Maybe You Touched Your Genitals hand sanitizer, a tube of bacon lip balm, and a bar of Uranus soap. Every item he pulled out was more entertaining than the last.

He positioned the flute over his nose and mouth and breathed out, having a great time attempting to play along to the music while he continued unpacking, bursting into giggles and some rather interesting sounds when he realized how terrible he sounded.

It was only when he took out the last item, a pair of binoculars Igneel had gifted him when he’d been a boy scout many, many years ago, that he realized all he’d done was clutter the floor again by spreading out the box's contents.

In no mood to do even more cleaning up, he examined the binoculars carefully, worried they might have broken in the move. He should probably test them out.

Picking a random subject- the dragon poster hanging above his bed, he aimed the binoculars on it and looked through them. They seemed in great condition, outside of some smudges and dust on the lenses. He grabbed a microfiber cloth off his desk and used it to wipe the lenses clean.

With nothing better to do, he pulled his curtains back and held the binoculars up to his eyes, searching for anything that might hold his interest for a few minutes. He’d settle for a trash-digging raccoon at this point.

What he found, however, was much more interesting. The house across from theirs, which had sported a For Rent sign for as long as he could remember, had a moving van in front of it, and the lights inside the house were on. He was a little curious why someone would move in this late at night, but that thought ceased to have any importance as soon as he got a good look at his future husband- uhm, new neighbor.

The guy had dark hair that stood up in unruly spikes. His skin gleamed in the moonlight, so much so Natsu wondered if he might be glittering like a certain gay vampire. He can absolutely bite me! Yum! And if that wasn't the sexiest fucking glower he’d ever seen in his life, Natsu didn't know what was.

He couldn’t make out the guy’s eyes, but he was almost willing to bet they were blue. This was all great, but it was his chest that Natsu kept staring at because for once in his life God had been merciful and the guy was shirtless, giving him the opportunity to ogle every one of his taut muscles.

“What are you doing?”

Natsu jumped at the sound of Sting yelling behind him, almost losing his grip on the binoculars. His hand moved to his heart as the nose flute squeaked loudly from his rapid breaths. He removed it, tossing it on his bed, and glaring at his roommate who stood laughing at him. “Jesus Fucking Christ, Sting!”

“What? I tried calling out to you, but your music was too loud.” Sting tiptoed his way around the mess on the floor to get to the stereo, lowering the volume so they could speak without having to shout at each other.

“Well, if you and Rogue hadn’t been having a food orgy next door, I wouldn’t have had to play it so loud.”

“Yeah, nice deflect. Wait, are those your scout binoculars? What were you looking at?”

“N-nothing, yep nothing at all.” “Ah, so you like listening in and spying on people, huh?” Rogue stood in the doorway, still licking what Natsu only hoped would be sundae off his fingers.

“I do not!” Natsu spluttered, “You guys are loud enough the new neighbor probably heard you!”

Fuck.

“There’s a new neighbor?!” Sting jumped over the box, grabbing the binoculars, which were still hanging around Natsu’s neck, and pulling them up to his eyes. “Oh, I see what you were looking at, alright,” he snorted.

“You’re cho-king me,” Natsu gasped out. “Whoops, sorry about that-” Sting pulled the string over Natsu’s head and continued to observe the scene across the street. “You should go over there and offer to help him out.”

“Hell no.” “Why not? He’s cute.”

“Because it’s like 11 o’clock and he’ll think I’m a weirdo.”

“It’s not that late. If we were still at the dorm, you wouldn’t think twice about it,” Sting pointed out. “You could take your shirt off too.”

“Yeah, cause that’s normal,” Natsu didn’t like the way Sting’s eyes seemed to twinkle. Not one bit.

“Man up, Dragneel,” Rogue dared, joining them at the window to get a look at the guy they were talking about.

“Look, I get you guys would like nothing more than to get me out of the house, but I’m broke and I’m not about to go make a fool of myself just so you can get it on. Besides, newsflash, not everyone is gay.” “Your point? Not everyone’s straight, either,” Rogue countered, crossing his arms. “Yeah, and I hate to break it to you, but we’re gonna get it on regardless,” Sting snickered, earning himself an eye roll from Rogue when he used the binoculars to zoom in on him.

“Right, well, don’t let me keep you,” Natsu said, grabbing the binoculars from Sting before he shoved both of them away from the window and closed the curtain.

“Ooh, sex dice!”

“You want them? Here, take them,” Natsu said, offering the dice to Sting and then throwing them out the door as hard as he could.

“Hey!”

“You don’t really expect him to chase after them, do you?” Rogue chuckled, unconvinced, but his laughter died abruptly when Sting hurdled over all the crap on the floor like some kind of Olympic athlete. “Suck, toes, 50 seconds!” “You were saying?” Natsu’s grin was smug as he shooed Rogue out of his room, locking the door behind him and collapsing in a tired heap on the floor. Those two were fucking exhausting.

A few moments later he realized he was wasting precious time and dragged himself back to the window, hoping to find his new neighbor still out there lifting boxes out of the van. Sadly for him, he was not. Although the lights were still on, the doors to the moving van were closed and despite his best efforts, Natsu wasn’t able to see him anywhere inside the house either.

He had to admit that Rogue was right. It was stupid not to even try just because he was afraid of a negative outcome. That had never exactly been the Dragneel way of doing things, although of course that might also be why he crashed and burned much more than he scored.

His cheering squad, however, was about as dangerous as a firing one, so if he was going to make a move he’d have to keep it a secret from them for as long as he could manage it.

He’d just have to watch a little longer, at least until he found an opportunity to introduce himself. Satisfied with this plan, he set his music on a timer and climbed into bed, already looking forward to learning more about his neighbor in the coming days.

0-0

“He’s so not straight,” Rogue called from the bottom of the stairs, closing the front door behind him and announcing his arrival a moment before coming up.

“Yay, you’re back,” Natsu muttered, not even bothering to look up from the magazine he’d been reading.

“Who’s not straight?” Sting came out from the kitchen, holding a bowl of chips and plopping on their living room couch.

“Your new neighbor,” Rogue said, looking incredibly pleased with himself as he took off his shoes and jacket.

Natsu flipped the page, refusing to take the bait even though he was itching to know more. “Fascinating, and how would you know that exactly? Did he show you his membership card?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

Well, that caught his interest. Natsu waited for him to say more but the sonofabitch knew he had him and now he was going to force him to ask. Sadistic asshole.

He stayed strong, willing Sting to ask for him, but the bastard just kept shoving chips into his mouth and watching the two of them with interest.

Natsu turned the page of his magazine slowly, attempting to wait Rogue out.

“I saw him arrive when I got here, so I thought I should introduce myself,” Rogue explained, keeping Natsu waiting while he joined Sting on the couch, greeting him with a kiss.

“You talked to him?!” Natsu threw his magazine on their coffee table, dropping all pretense of disinterest. “What did he say?!”

“He said his name’s Gray Fullbuster, and that he moved in a few days ago. So then I said, yeah, I know, we watched you through a pair of binoculars.” Natsu could feel all color vanishing from his face, while Sting almost choked on his chips. “Kidding,” Rogue snorted, smacking his boyfriend on the back a few times. “I asked him where he’s from since he has a bit of an accent. Turns out he’s from Isvan.” “He’s got an accent?” Natsu groaned. He was so screwed.

“What’s the matter with him?”

“Natsu has a thing for accents, always has.” “And you have a thing for assholes!” Natsu retorted, tossing a pillow at Sting’s face, hoping he’d stop laughing. “I mean, don’t we all?” Sting caught the pillow and put it behind his head. “Oh, speaking of which, how do you know he isn’t straight?” “It wasn’t hard,” Rogue shrugged, shoving his hair back away from his face, “His backpack had a bi flag pin on it. Oh, and he asked me if there was an art supplies store downtown, so I figure he’s an artist.”

“Yeah, he is.” Natsu blurted out, recalling the night he’d spent an hour watching Gray sketching a cat, fascinated by how lifelike he’d made it seem. The sudden look that passed between his friends made him realize his mistake.

“You little pervert!” Sting teased, “You’ve been watching him, haven’t you?”

“I haven’t!”

“Bullshit! How else would you have known that?”

“Well, lucky for you, I’ve got just the thing!”

Natsu peered at Rogue from between his fingers, not sure he liked the way he’d said that, especially when he looked like a cat who had just swallowed a canary whole.

“What did you do?”

Almost as if by magic, several envelopes materialized in Rogue’s hand.

“I may have liberated some of his mail.”

“Are you out of your mind?! You can’t just take someone’s mail, Rogue. That’s illegal!” “Says the stalker. Besides, it’s only illegal if you get caught,” Rogue smirked, examining the envelopes in his hand before setting them on the coffee table. “These were just delivered to the wrong mailbox, that’s all. They look important, though. You should make sure he gets them back. We wouldn’t want him to get in trouble.”

Sting had the decency to look shocked, but that only lasted for about a minute, replaced by what Natsu could only interpret as admiration. “That’s perfect!” And next thing he knew, they were in full scheming mode, mumbling to each other as if he wasn’t even there. “He should open up a few buttons, don’t you think?”

“Yeah. Maybe fluff up his hair?”

"On it!"

“Oh, no. I want no part of whatever it is you two are thinking!” Natsu made a show of grabbing his magazine and opening it back up, but Sting had already gone off to his bedroom. The ominous sounds of him rummaging through closets and drawers traveled through the walls, and soon he returned holding a bunch of items. A comb, a tube of hair gel, some fancy-looking body spray, one of his infamous crop tops, and… was that Natsu's bacon lip balm?

"Did you just steal that lip balm from my room?"

"It's not stealing if I'm using it on you, dumbass. Now be still."

“Get away from me with that crap!” Natsu stood up from his chair, ready to bolt and lock himself in his bedroom.

“You wound me,” Sting sighed. "I even grabbed you my best one-" he held up the top and pouted at it.

“I am not putting on one of your stupid shirts.”

"His shirt's fine," Rogue sided with Natsu for once, “it just needs some re-adjustments.” He straightened the collar of Natsu’s button-up, pulled down the sleeves so he could roll them up neatly again, and opened up the two top buttons.

“Pucker up!” Sting made kissy faces as he approached him with the lip balm, and although Natsu refused to purse his lips, that did nothing to dissuade him. He still managed to apply a generous amount of it on the general area of his mouth.

“Ugh, that tastes awful!” Natsu complained, wiping the excess off with his hand.

“It’s bacon, man. All dudes love bacon, am I right?” “On my plate, yes. But on your face?” Rogue looked like someone spit in his socks.

Sting didn’t let Rogue’s response get him down, cheerfully moving on to the next item in his arsenal. A bottle of body spray that had little bits of something floating in it. Was that-

“Glitter?! No way, no how. I’m going to look ridiculous.”

“You’re going to look and smell awesome.”

“It’s glitter.”

“Which of us has a boyfriend?”

Okay, Sting had him there, but did he really need to be primped up like some schoolgirl about to go to Prom just to say hi to the guy? It was humiliating. If he went through with this ridiculous ploy, and that was still a big if, he wanted to at least make a good impression.

“It smells nice, and Gray’s an artist. Maybe he’d appreciate the glitter,” Rogue said, grabbing some chips from the bowl and moving over by Sting.

“He doesn’t make kids art projects. He draws beautiful, realistic looking pictures.”

“Oh, sorry,” Rogue fake apologized, holding up one hand next to his head while feeding Sting chips with the other.

Sting took advantage of Natsu’s distraction, spraying him before he could protest further.

“Hey, watch the face!”

Natsu had to admit the spray smelled nice, but in his rush to do a sneak attack, Sting had sprayed very liberally, covering not only Natsu but the coffee table, which had Gray’s mail on it.

“Oh, great. How am I supposed to explain that?”

“Will you chill? By the time I’m done with you, Gray won’t care about some stupid glitter on his mail,” Sting promised as he set the spray down and opened the tube of hair gel, squeezing some into his hand and moving to pluck at Natsu's hair.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Natsu grumbled.

“Oh, come on, have I ever steered you wrong before?” Sting grinned, brimming with confidence, only to wince as he paused to think. “Okay, maybe don’t answer that.”

Natsu chuckled, thinking back to some of Sting’s more hare-brained suggestions over the years. He had this habit of getting carried away, but Natsu had never regretted going along. Even when things went sideways, they always had fun, and he knew his friend’s affection for him was genuine. So why was he fighting him so much now, when he was only trying to help?

“Fine, fine, do your worst.”

"Pftt, please. I perform nothing but miracles."

Rogue grabbed a stool from their kitchen island and brought it into the living room, gesturing for Natsu to sit so Sting could get started.

He let Sting fuss over his hair for the next ten minutes, his fingers sculpting it into well-defined spikes away from his face.

“Done!”

“Not bad,” Rogue said after giving him a once over. He grabbed the mail from the table and handed it over. “Now get going.”

“What, now?”

“No, next week. Yes, now!”

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” Natsu hedged.

“On that note,” Sting stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out an object that he placed on the coffee table. “Roll.”

Natsu recognized the decision dice he’d left on his desk. "Seriously?! What are you two, kleptos?"

“Just roll.”

“Okay, but if it says no, we’re done here, right?”

Natsu picked up the dice and studied them, unsure of what he wanted the outcome to be. He shook them lightly in his hands and tossed them on the coffee table.

“Fuck in’ a?” “Fuckin’ A!” Sting cheered and raced to his room again for more digging through drawers, and this time he returned with only two foil packaged items that fitted between his fingers. Both things Natsu easily recognized but had no intention of using during his first meeting with Gray. “Oh my God!” he backed away, “I’m just gonna go return his mail and introduce myself!”

“You were a Scout, weren’t you?” Sting grinned, extending his hand to offer the packets. “Didn’t they teach you to always be prepared?”

“I’m just gonna go drop these off,” Natsu rushed out of the room and down the stairs, hearing Sting and Rogue’s laughter and a warning to not be back soon.

@fuckyeahgratsu

#gratsu #gratsuweekend2021 #stingue #fairy tail #Gratsu Weekend 2021 #media #gray x natsu #sting x rogue #prompt: secret #other #fics

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nemir · 4 years ago

Text

𝕤 𝕡 𝕝 𝕖 𝕟 𝕕 𝕚 𝕕

✞——————❆——————✞

» pairing; haurchefant greystone x rhen {my wol}

» word count: 6k!!! EXACTLY.

» content; mutual pining, mixed messages, adult themes,

» an; written over the course of a few days while listening to Kiss from a Rose by Seal on repeat fjgdkljd (also huge shoutout to the Haurchefant I've been hanging out with, you're an inspiration to us all)

"Curse the twelve for this weather! It's too damn cold." A viera woman pushed her way through the front doors of a stone building at Camp Dragonhead, giving little care to the volume - and tone - of her voice. She shivered once inside, pulling the large hood from her cloak back off her head. Jet black ears sprang up immediately, to which her hands lifted to smooth out her choppy black hair. "Right. Where is he?"

The sell-swords and infantrymen who were keeping warm by the fire inside blinked, heads tilting. "Er … Who, ma'am?"

The woman balked. "What do you me--" She stopped herself short and let out a short breath. "Pray, forgive me. My name is Rhen Hrafna, I'm looking for Lord Haurchefant Greystone. Is he in?" She crossed her arms beneath her cloak, the tiniest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips; one that nobody would be able to see unless they were up close.

"M-my lady! Our deepest apologies!" The men and women who stood suddenly straightened their backs and saluted, and the ones who remained seated bowed their heads in both shame and reverence. "He's stepped out for but a moment! I-is there anything we can do for you in the meanti-"

"Leave." A single word. It was curt and blunt, but it wasn't filled with malice or meant to cause harm. It was a simple request, as made evident by the viera's smile. The infantrymen took it as an order, and all let out a breath of relief. It meant they were able to go to the mess hall to eat and kick their feet up for a time. A short time, as peace was not something the Highlands knew much of, but it was welcomed nonetheless. "And please," she spoke as they filed out, passing by them as she made her way further into the room, "only return if it is an absolute emergency. Important Scion matters, and whatnot." Rhen rolled her hand in a nonchalant circle, to which some of the infantrymen snickered and rolled their eyes but nodded in understanding all the same, and finally Rhen was left alone.

It wasn't for long. As she hopped up onto the long desk that stood at the far back of the room and leaned forward with her palms pressed into the solid wood, the front doors opened again letting in a blast of cold winter air. "Best to keep bundled up out there, my friends! The wind is blowing something fierce!" A tall elezen man had come in and quickly closed the door behind him. His silver-blue hair tumbled out from his helm as he pulled it off, giving his head a single shake before turning around to a near-empty room. "Ah."

"Lord Haurchefant." Rhen remained on the desk, her legs crossing at the knee. "Braving the weather, I see? And what, pray tell, was so important that made you late for our meeting?" She was teasing him, of course. Even if she could keep a serious tone, her face would give it away in an instant.

"If it isn't my favourite champion! I do so sincerely apologize for the delay, and I hope you are willing to forgive me. It was not very noble of me to keep a lady waiting - especially one as important as you." His lips grew into a long, thin smile, brilliant blue eyes practically glimmering beneath the lights. He strode across the room, arms opening wide as he drew closer to the viera woman. "Could you find it in your heart of hearts?"

"Hmm... I'm not so sure, my Lord." Rhen's head canted to the side, her own grin growing to match his. She pressed a finger to her chin and tapped it a few times, "Perhaps," she started, noting his crestfallen face, "a hot cocoa will do the trick? You look as though you could use one, too." When he was within reach, she opened her own arms and pulled him into a warm - albeit slightly awkward due to his armor - embrace. "I've missed you." Her voice was soft, evidently content and feeling at peace in this moment.

“As I have missed you! Every time you leave the camp, I start wondering when I will be graced by not only your presence, but your shining and beautiful face again. It pains me so, to see you leave through those doors, you know.” His voice was friendly, not as deep as one would imagine upon first looking at him. It was jovial and bouncy, and it was clear he could make anyone smile, or break them out of a sour mood with just a few kind words. Haurchefant was sure to give her an extra squeeze before pulling away, resting his hands on her elbows as he got a good look at her. “Just as beautiful as the first day I met you. Right! Let’s get some of that cocoa going, eh?” He pulled away completely, still beaming at Rhen, then quickly turned on his heels and hurried through the door that led to his private stores.

✞——————❆——————✞

“Halone preserve me.” His words were hushed and quick as he sank back against the door. His hand lifted, wrist pressing to his forehead. What was he going to do? He had always been shameless in his flirting with the Warrior of Light - he didn’t exactly keep his feelings a secret. But… Did she know? Was he too forward just now, with his words and his actions? No, he couldn’t have been! She’s the one who welcomed, and even initiated, the embrace! Did that mean she felt the same…? “Pull yourself together, man!” His hand dragged down his face, and he let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “There is no way she could… She would ever...” He stopped himself and shook his head. “Hot cocoa. Right.”

“Why didn’t I kiss him.” As soon as she heard the door shut behind him, Rhen’s expression dropped and her hands immediately shot to cover her face. She let out a long groan of frustration, kicking her feet a bit off the side of the desk. “Gods dammit, Rhen.” Her hands fell back down to her lap and she sighed. She was getting ahead of herself. Sure, she could have kissed him. But would he even want that? Did he even have feelings for her? But the way he spoke to her… No, he talked to everyone like that didn’t he? Well, perhaps not everyone, but surely - “Ugh!” She hopped off the desk and started pacing up and down the length of the desk, arms crossed under her chest. Was she really in any position to develop feelings, especially for one with whom she worked so closely? It could potentially become a conflict of interest, and Rhen knew she wouldn’t hear the end of it from Alphinaud… not to mention Tataru would have that rumour spread faster than one could say ‘Hydaelyn’. No, no. Best to put the thought to rest. For now.

Finally, the water was ready and he carefully poured the water in. He gave each mug a good stir, then lifted each mug and held one out to Rhen. “For you, my lady.”

As if on cue, the elezen pushed his way through the door with two tin mugs in one hand, the other holding a sack filled with powder and a small jug of milk. His usual, friendly smile was plastered on his face and he seemed no different than he had before he walked into his store room. “Shouldn’t take too long, now! Just need to boil the water.” He moved fluidly across the room, retracing the same steps he had taken many times before on occasions just like these, be they with friends, random adventurers, and even on his own. He dropped the supplies on the desk, moved to the hearth to grab a small black cauldron which he brought over to another room which held a small fountain of water. He scooped some in, and with ease, carried it back and hitched it onto the short chain that hung right above the fire. Soon enough the flames were licking the bottom of the cauldron, and a small bit of steam rose from the lightly bubbling water. In the meantime, he set to prepping the mugs, spooning out generous portions of the cocoa powder into each, followed by a good splash of milk.

She took it with a smile. “Thank you.” Though it was hot, she cupped the mug with both hands, thankful for the warmth it provided her. The stone buildings of the Highlands, which were respite from the freezing temperatures outside, did not do well in terms of insulation and there was always a chill, regardless of how long a fire had been going. She moved closer to the hearth and sank down onto a bench that had been haphazardly pulled up by the infantrymen earlier on. Rhen lifted the mug closer to her face, taking in the smell of the decadent cocoa before blowing softly at the rim and taking a small sip. “Mmmn.. Delicious, as always.” Her head turned slightly, “The best hot cocoa this side of Ishgard. I could never have a better cup.”

He beamed in response, taking a small sip of his own. “Oh, you flatter me so.” He leaned back against the bench, resting his arm against the top, his fingers just inches from Rhen. It took everything he had to resist the temptation to reach out and gently stroke her back. “But if you insist. I’ve had a lot of time to practice making it. Not to mention countless cold and thirsty knights.” His eyes darted from her to the warm glow of the fire. “I couldn’t be happier, knowing someone as splendid as you, enjoys such a simple little treat.”

The viera scoffed, “Please. I’m not that special, Haurchefant.” She turned herself slightly on the bench, facing the knight a little better now. “I’m just an average adventurer.” Those words would hit a chord with him, and she knew it. It was said on purpose, as she loved how passionate he got when it came to her. It made her heart skip a beat, and her stomach turn in welcoming anxious knots.

“Average?! There is nothing average about you, Lady Rhen! You are malms above average! Imagine, the Warrior of Light, Hydaelyn’s chosen, arguably the most important member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn being just average!” Here it came. That passionate, near heated retort. He nearly spilled his cocoa with how animated and excitable he got. “The things people would do to be included, or even acknowledged, by you and yours! Why, I had to pinch myself after I met you the first time! I could hardly believe that someone I had heard so much about, someone who had beaten primals, waltzed through my door!” His free hand had lifted to his head, a finger and thumb pressing against his temples. “The… the very notion that you, after all you have done, would think you are av-”

“Haurchefant.�� Rhen hadn’t expected this much. She had no idea he’d take it so personally. “R-really, you don’t need to go into so much! A lot of what I’ve accomplished is because I haven’t done it alone, or even by mere coincidence! Luck, even.” She leaned her shoulder against the bench, looking up at him bewildered, one hand pressed to her chest.

“No! Rhen, you don’t-” He stood up, and took one step before turning slightly so his back was to her. “I mean.” A deep breath steadied him. “You truly are splendid, Rhen Hrafna, and that is something I will not argue.” He glanced to the hearth again, his hair falling over his eyes in such a way that blocked them from Rhen’s view.

She sighed, and reached out toward him. “I appreciate your kind words, really, I do. They… they mean a lot to me.” Her gaze was still steady on his face, though struggled to read it. She took a moment to ponder her next words carefully, sipping at her still-hot cocoa. “...You-”

“I apologize for my outburst, my lady.” He hadn’t meant to cut her off, but the silence was killing him. “Ah, but I forget myself. You came here to discuss important matters regarding the Scions, correct?” He turned back around to face her and sat down on the bench once more, that usual smile on his face. Truly, he wasn’t himself without it.

Rhen bit her lip, looking away for a brief moment, then retracted her hand the moment he turned around. “You’ve nothing to apologize for, Lord Haurchefant.” She shook her head, and returned the smile. “But, yes,” her body shifted slightly, “that is why I came here. It… really isn’t anything terribly important. Alphinaud just wanted me to relay some information, catch up with how things are progressing here.”

“Ah! The young Master Alphinaud! How is the lad? Chipper as always, I expect!” Haurchefant let out a chuckle, “As for how things are here, they are the same as ever, I’m afraid! The occasional threat, but nothing we haven’t been able to handle I can assure you! I trust things are going well over in Ishgard? You had an audience with Ser Aymeric, didn’t you?” It was time for Haurchefant to shift his body, though it seemed a bit more tense, more stiff.

“Yes, that’s right.” Rhen sipped her cocoa, “He was gracious, and a very kind host. I can see why he’s held in a relatively high regard. I look forward to meeting with him again, and hopefully working together toward not only rebuilding Ishgard, but reestablishing an alliance. They would prove to be an incredibly valuable ally. Alphinaud is still there, actually.”

“I see.” His words were uncharacteristically short, and lacked the usual vim and vigor. “It seems you have your hands full. To be expected, of course.” He nodded once before bringing the mug to his lips to take a long drink. “I…” the knight started to speak, and Rhen tilted her head, waiting for him to finish. “I hope you still remember your friends,” the word was stilted, “back here at Camp Dragonhead. While there isn’t much more you are able to do for us - not that we wouldn’t appreciate any help, of course - I… these halls would feel empty without a visit from you, whenever you are able.”

She felt herself recoil. Friend. There it was. The word she had been dreading. So, that’s how he really felt. She inhaled from her nose, sharp and short. “I could never forget you. All of you,” she added. “You have done much for me, and for the future of all Eorzea, Lord Haurchefant. Don’t discredit yourself and your accomplishments.” Tentatively, she reached a hand out and pressed it on top of his. Skin meeting skin sent a jolt through her body, and she wanted nothing more than to curl her fingers around his, squeeze his hand tight and confess everything, here and now. She would give up everything, if it meant being with him. “Politics are slow-going. It’s not as if I’ll be meeting with Ser Aymeric day after day, night after night. Things need to be put into motion, to pass through… I will have plenty of time to come back here.”

“But surely he set up accommodations for you in Ishgard?” Haurchefant hadn’t meant for the words to be bitter, but Rhen felt the bite, and pulled her hand away. Desperately, silently, he begged himself to remember the warmth and how it felt.

“Well, yes.” She blinked, confused by his reaction. “But it’s just a free room at the inn, nothing fancy.” Her hand curled around the tin mug again, no longer hot to the touch. “In fact it was your father, Count Edmont, who offered me private chambers in his home.” Her brow lifted, “Are you going to take up issue with that, too?”

“Father did? Well,” he chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, running the thought through his mind, “no, I don’t have a problem with that, my lady. You will be well taken care of and safe at Fortemps Manor.” And he would know where she was, Halone forbid anything happen. “My apologies. I am merely looking out for you and your safety.”

Rhen’s tongue clicked. “It is fine.” Finishing the rest of her cocoa, she pushed herself up from the bench and moved to the desk, resting the mug on top. “I do believe that was all we had to discuss.” She didn’t turn back to face him, and instead kept staring straight ahead; she didn’t want him to see the tears that were stinging the corners of her eyes.

Haurchefant sighed. “For the time being, yes. It is late, my lady. While I am sure the comforts of House Fortemps are calling, I would feel better if you remained here for the night. That blizzard has surely only gotten worse as the night progressed.” He, too, rose from the bench and made his way to a door off to the side, leaving his mug on the bench, ready to prep a room.

“... Thank you, Lord Haurchefant. That would be greatly appreciated. I’ll take but a moment to contact Alphinaud and let him know.”

✞——————❆——————✞

Haurchefant had the right idea. All through the night, Rhen could hear naught by the wind whipping and whistling around outside, rattling the single-pane glass windows. She was incredibly thankful for the hearth that had been lit in her room as she curled beneath the heavy dodo feather quilt. Still, sleep eluded her. She had been fed - it was a quiet and rather awkward dinner - the room had been set, and Haurchefant had even drawn a hot bath for her to help ease the chill. He even remembered that lavender helped her sleep, and had a sachet of it resting atop her pillow. Perhaps that was why.

The creaking of the door caught Haurchefant's attention, and he spun on his heels. He squinted in the low light, "My lady?" He froze in his spot, unsure if it was just a trick of the wind or if the Warrior of Light was really standing there in the doorframe, in nothing but a silk robe and cloak. "What are you doing out of bed?" He blinked, and remembered stubbing his toe a few minutes prior, "Ah- I hope I did not wake you? I was simply… cleaning up, and managed to catch my foot against the bench." He waved a hand, trying to brush the small lie aside.

Her mind was racing. Something had seemed so… off about Haurchefant tonight. At first, he was his usual eccentric self! It was a relief to see, especially after dealing with the stuffiness of the Holy See. But as their conversation went on, it was as though something happened, and he just changed. The only thing she could pinpoint was when the topic turned to Ser Aymeric, but surely… No, there was no reason why Haurchefant would get so upset over that. Rhen pushed herself up in the bed, pulling her knees to her chest. This. This is what was keeping her from resting.

Down the hall and through the door, Haurchefant remained in the main room, resting on the bench next to the hearth, elbows on his knees and his hands together. Why did he let himself lose control of his emotions like that? It wasn’t like him to get so… irrational. Yet, something about the way she spoke so highly of Aymeric - it was to be expected, of course, he was indeed a generous and kind soul, but… Haurchefant gripped his own hands tighter together. “Gods dammit…!” He cursed, and pushed off the bench again, this time his foot connecting with the heavy wood. He grumbled out - of course this would happen after he had changed into more casual, comfortable clothes. He bit his lip, trying not to make too much noise.

A moment passed, and he opted to pace about in a circle, keeping close to the hearth. He didn’t know what to do and for the first time in a long time, Haurchefant wasn’t feeling like himself. On one hand, he was so incredibly honoured and proud to be a friend to Rhen, the illustrious and sought-after white mage. His chest swelled when he spoke of her, or heard others speak her name and of her glorious deeds! But on the other hand he felt almost selfish, like he wanted to keep her all to himself, run away together where nobody could find them. Alas, he knew that would be impossible. She had her duties, as he had his own and it wouldn’t be in either of their characters to just leave that all behind. Not after they had both spent so long and worked so hard to get to where they were. They both had people who relied on them. He sighed, “... as I rely on her.” His words were whispered into the darkened room, hushed and barely audible.

“I need to talk to him.” Rhen spoke aloud, to herself. She needed to be clear of any doubts, any worries. Even if it meant losing him, Rhen needed to tell him everything that was on her mind, everything she felt, and ask him what happened, why he was acting that way earlier in the night. She threw the covers to the side and slipped out of the large bed. Her feet touched the cold stone, and her toes curled, but she pushed through how much it bit into her skin. She grabbed her cloak and tossed it over her shoulders before leaving her room. “I wonder…” She wandered down the hall, first stopping at Haurchefant’s private chambers. Before knocking, she pressed an ear to the door, listening for any sort of noise. Nothing, not even the crackling of a fire. She knocked regardless and pushed open the door, peeking through the small crack. “... Haurchefant?” She whispered into the darkness, but could see nothing. There was no response, no ruffling of sheets or soft sleepy grunts. There wasn’t even a shadowy lump on the bed to mark his presence.

She sighed and moved on from his room, sure to close the door as she left. Where could he be? Surely, he wasn’t called out for some sort of nightwatch? In the middle of this storm? She frowned; if he had, there would be words in the morning. The viera continued to tiptoe her way down the hall, peeking through various doors until she came to the end of the hall. The next door would lead to the main room. Suddenly, she found herself nervous; she didn’t know what she wanted to find on the other side. If he was there, would she be able to go through with this? Rhen bit her lip and opened the door without anymore second thoughts. If she was going to do it, she just had to do it.

"No, I just couldn't sleep." She stepped into the room, arms crossing over her stomach, to keep herself from shivering but also as a way to keep herself grounded. Her head turned slightly to the left, using her one good eye to peer and squint into the slowly darkening room. "... Is your foot alright? Do I need to heal-"

"No, no, thank you. Nothing is broken or bleeding, and I've handled much worse." He chuckled lightly, and for a moment all the tension between them was lifted. They both felt as though they could breathe easy again, but when the room got quiet and neither of them spoke, everything built up from the evening returned. It was thick, and nauseating. "But, you must needs get back to your room where it is warm! You'll end up sickly if you stay out here, threadbare and in the cold. I would hate to be the one responsible for the delay in Eorzea's saving!"

But as he moved closer to usher her back to her room, the moaning wind outside picked up whipping the door wide open. The pair of them lifted their arms to cover their faces, both letting out a sharp gasp as the penetrating cold hit them. "S-stay there, I'll get this." The blizzard was strong, blowing in the snow that had accumulated in front of the door inside in drifts, small pellets of ice mixing into the mess. But Rhen hadn't listened, and was already ahead of Haurchefant, bare feet leaving tiny footprints in the snow in her wake. He clicked his tongue but didn't dare try to argue. Instead, he moved at her pace and they reached the door together, using their combined strength to fight against the wind and push the door shut, latching it and keeping it barred shut with a thick plank of wood.

Rhen could feel her feet burning from the snow, and her lungs felt as though they were on fire. It took her a moment to come down from the slight rush and jump away from the snow, moving back toward the hearth, which the fire within nearly died completely and was now just a burning pile of embers. "That… wasn't my most prudent decision."

Haurchefant watched her, a sympathetic smile on his lips. He considered Rhen his charge, and even if his developing feelings drove him to overreact or overthink, her and her safety was his first priority, above all else. "I shall take you back to your room." It was a statement, and he wasn't going to give her much room to say no, as he was by her side in an instant and picked her up bridal style, the long train of her cloak and robe tangling together and draping over his arm.

He did as he was instructed, though hesitated for a split second, and sank slowly onto the bed next to her. He wasn't sure what to do with himself; his feet were planted firmly on the floor in case he needed to spring back up, but his torso was twisted slightly. His arms he kept low, hands resting on the tops of his knees, fingers drumming against them. "Rhen? Is everything alright?"

She made to protest, but found herself unwilling. So she let him scoop her up without a word, and rested her head on his shoulder, arms wrapping around him. If she could have just this moment and nothing else, she would be satisfied. "Don't feel like you need to rush." She murmured, unsure if he'd even hear her, but when she felt his pace slow she smiled.

“What were you doing wandering about so late?” They had made it back to her room, and Haurchefant was letting her down on the bed. He reached around her and pulled the cloak from her shoulders to hang it back up. “I can’t imagine such a strong, world-saving viera like yourself would be kept up from some howling wind and a bit of cold?” His head turned slightly, stealing a glance at her from over his shoulder.

Rhen sighed; she knew this would come up. There was a fleeting moment where she thought that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t have to bring it up, that she could just forget that she was going to open her heart entirely to him and just leave things how they were. But then, how long would she be able to keep it up? There was always the chance that it would be too late, and she knew it would be something she'd regret her entire life. "Come, sit beside me." She motioned to the bed and shifted, pulling one leg up to lay it flat against the mattress, turning so she would be able to face him directly.

"Do you care about me?"

Haurchefant's expression twisted, a mix of confusion and surprise. "Of course I do! You're my dearest friend! What would possess you to think I don’t?"

"Haurchefant, you aren’t listening. Do you care about me?” Rhen leaned forward, taking his hands in hers. Her eyes were wide, brows turned upward as she waited for him to understand, to respond.

The elezen was silent as he processed the question, his eyes staring down into hers, searching the mismatched grey hues. He felt her thumb drag along the top of his hand, and he blinked. “Wait, you don’t mean…”

Rhen inhaled deeply, and nodded. “I do. Haurchefant, I… That is to say--” She was stumbling over her words, finding it hard to concentrate over the pounding in her chest. She chewed her lip for a moment before continuing, “When we first met, you were kind and your words were… Well, a bit much if I’m being honest. But, they were flattering all the same, and it was refreshing to hear.” She saw his lips part as he went to speak, but she shook her head, wanting to finish before he said anything. “Over time, I found myself thinking of you more often, how I wished you could be on this journey with me - physically, with me, about how I couldn’t wait to come back to see you here… and I found myself starting to wonder if the words you said, all the compliments… If you truly meant them.” She could feel her cheeks growing hot by the second, and she dropped her gaze, opting to look at their hands.

“Rhen…” Haurchefant tilted his head to the side slightly, still watching her intently. He licked his lips and lifted a hand to her face, stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers before cupping her chin to tilt her head back up. “Halone, forgive me for taking so long.” He whispered before closing the gap between them, pressing his lips to hers. It wasn’t forced, or rough but gentle, and what one would expect from someone like Haurchefant. He could feel her body tense for just a moment and was about to pull away when he felt her melt into his touch, her hand squeezing his, fingers curling together. He didn’t want this feeling to end.

For months he had been thinking of her nonstop. Since the moment he first laid eyes upon her, he knew she was special - and not just because of her deeds, her title. Just, her. She was plaguing his thoughts, not that he was complaining. At night, he dreamt of her, of moments like these and moments that would make brothel workers blush. Anytime the doors opened to his office, he would snap his head up in the hopes of seeing her walk through. There wasn’t a time he wasn’t worrying about her, and her safety. The relief and butterflies he would feel when he did see her were beyond compare, and unlike anything he could describe.

And right now, in this moment, he didn’t need to speak a word of that; she knew. All it took was that one kiss, which neither wanted to stop. Rhen’s arms lifted and draped over his shoulders, bending so her hands could comb through his hair. He complied, and leaned forward slightly, his own arms moving in to grab her from the waist and lift her slightly and pulled her into his lap; he could feel her smiling against his lips. The kiss deepened as Haurchefant dared to pry his tongue against her lips, begging entrance. She complied and their tongues met. His fingers dug into her skin slightly, and a shiver ran down Rhen’s back. “You have no idea how I’ve longed for this moment.”

✞——————❆——————✞

Daybreak. The sun was streaming through the single-paned glass window, flits of dust drifting lazily about. The fire in the hearth had long since died, no longer even smoldering. Rhen stirred, the sheets rustling slightly. Slowly and sleepily she blinked and pushed herself up onto her elbows. It took her a moment to gain her bearings before she looked around at the room; right. She remained at Camp Dragonhead because of the blizzard. That would also mean…

“Lay back down.” Haurchefant’s voice was muffled, his face buried into the pillow. He was peeking up at her with one eye, the corner of his mouth visible and turned up in a soft smile. He lazily lifted an arm and curled it around Rhen, dragging her back down to the bed. “Mmm… splendid.”

She giggled and wiggled about slightly, getting into a comfortable position, turning just enough so they were facing each other. She buried her face into the crook of his neck, leaving a trail of kisses down from his jaw. “Good morning.” Her arm draped over his side, fingers tracing gentle and soft lines up and down his back. So it hadn’t been a dream… good. She smiled and let out a content hum.

“And a good morning, it is!” Haurchefant stirred a bit, allowing Rhen to get comfortable before wrapping his arm back around her, holding her close. He was basking in this feeling, in this moment. “I trust you slept well?” His lips pressed to her forehead in a tender kiss. His legs, as well, shifted slightly so as to entangle their bodies even more. He wanted to feel as one with her, and he wanted to stay just like this forever.

Rhen nodded, “And you?”

“Best I’ve slept in ages.” Another kiss to her forehead.

“Haurchefant?” She paused for a moment, and he grunted in response, “What does this mean for us?”

He pulled back slightly so he could get a better look at her face. His expression was gentle and soft, the sweetest and most sincere smile pulling at his lips. “Well, if you would rather keep this a secret and never speak of it again, I would understand. I would be terribly heartbroken, I won’t lie.” He chuckled, and pressed a finger to her lips when he saw she was about to speak. “But,” his expression changed slightly, still sweet but a little more serious. Blue eyes shone in the sunlight. “Rhen Hrafna. Would you grant me the highest honour of staying with me, by my side, as not only my dearest and most cherished friend, but as my partner?” The arm that was around her moved, hand grabbing hers and pulling it up to his lips, “Say you’ll be mine.” He kissed her fingers, each one individually, and so delicately.

“Haurchefant Greystone.” She was beaming, her cheeks red and warm, “I am the one who will be honoured to call you my partner. Forever, and always.” She could feel the tears begin to prick the corners of her eyes, but this time they were of joy. Of a sweet relief, feeling all the weight finally lift from her shoulders. “I am yours, and I always will be.”

“Those words… They are music to my ears. You’ve made me the happiest man alive on this day, you know!” Haurchefant laughed, and it was like a chorus. It was joyful, radiant, filled with love and life. He pulled her in close once more, tightening his grasp around her in an embrace. “This feeling… this excitement. Ahhh, it’s splendid!” Haurchefant took a deep breath and let out a long, happy sigh. His other hand, burdened by being under Rhen’s frame, moved slightly to absently stroke her hair.

“That’s a bold claim, my Lord.” She teased, and the pair chuckled. “But I’m glad. Truly, I couldn’t be happier!” Her hand pressed against the middle of his back. “Long have I waited to hear you say those words, and to hold me just like this.”

“As have I, Rhen. I have dreamt of moments just like these. You’ve never once left my thoughts.”

“I guess that means we’ll be staying in bed a bit longer then?”

He hummed in response, “Please… just a bit longer.” He kissed her again, softly.

“Anything for you.”

#mine #final fantasy xiv #haurchefant greystone #rhen hrafna #ff14 fanfic #haurchefant x wol

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havokangel · 4 years ago

Text

come back...be here (bucky barnes x reader)

a summer romance au, with an inevitable ending.

♡

a/n; this is part 2/3 of my bucky series, inspired by taylor swift’s album “red,” link to part one is here. please leave some love on ao3, as well :)

link to ao3

If I had known what I'd known now

I never would've played so nonchalant

I’ll be coming to see you tonight. Usual time, yeah?

Buck

It’s strange how a handwritten note can distract you from your responsibilities all day. Your co-worker gave you shit when Bucky left it for you, at his usual table. She kept commenting on your rosy cheeks, knowing how this boy affects you. Even when you retort back, protecting your real feelings from her, she knows how hard you’ve fallen for him.

(Ever since the start of the Summer, when he got comfortable with you, he’d start leaving you notes on napkins. You haven’t told him that you have them all; tucked away in a box, memories from this Summer with him.)

It’s late August now, and things in your small, oceanside town are slowing down. Tourists are leaving their expensive rentals, beaches are clearing out by the day, kids are going back to school, and the traffic in the diner that you work at has slowed exponentially. Normally, you’d be looking forward to work slowing down; that means less work for you, as the usual elderly people who reside here all year begin being regulars again.

But this has not been a normal Summer, all thanks to him.

James. Or, Bucky, as he prefers. You learned that the first time he introduced himself to you, with that easy smirk he always wears.

His family came to stay here for the Summer; their first real vacation, after working their asses off to get to be where they are today. He’s your age, 19; still looking for his place in the world, being reckless when he can because hey, now’s the time to do it, when people expect you to make mistakes. You on the other hand? You’re 19 and stuck in a small town, taking care of a younger sibling as your father drinks his days away, mourning the loss of a wife, the mother to his children.

She passed a year ago, and ever since then, you’ve bared the weight of the family’s responsibilities, the family’s reputation, everything to keep things running smoothly. When you’re the responsible one, there’s no time for fun, for recklessness, and certainly not for boys. So back in June, when a boy with gleaming blue eyes and an air of easiness sat in your section, you fell hard and you fell fast.

Being with Bucky is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. It’s like coming home, after being on a sunny beach all day; a burn blossoming on your cheeks, sand still between your fingernails, and hair damp from the water. It’s like driving through an empty road in the countryside, wind whipping through your hair as you think to yourself, it can’t get better than this.

June and July had passed quicker than the sand in an hourglass falls. Every day was spent with him, regardless if you had work or not. He’d pick you up on his motorcycle, every day being a new adventure. It was hard, in the beginning; allowing yourself fun seemed impossible and wrong on so many levels - who would take care of dinner? Who would take care of your sister? Your dad? It all seemed insane, but Bucky made it better. He always knows how to make you feel better.

You swam, you hiked, you laughed, you kissed...every day felt like a dream that could be so easily altering the way you think. Within a few weeks, he turned your gray and dreary outlook on life colorful, almost reviving the life that you lived before everything snowballed into treachery.

But as the amazing, tiring days with him passed, you knew the end was coming. It was inevitable, really.

He’s a Brooklyn boy. Born and raised, through and through. He was going back home in August, and not just back home; he was planning on enlisting.

Army, he had said. Got shit else happening in my life. Might as well.

He told you nonchalantly, in the beginning, when all you would do is talk at the diner, on your slow days. You didn’t think much of it, and he didn’t bring it up again; even when you’d be wrapped up in your sheets together, the easy pillow talk escaping his lips.

But the note he leaves you today doesn’t give you the normal butterflies and rosy cheeks. It leaves you with a sinking gut feeling that you’ve been shoving down down down ever since he kissed you for the first time. So, as you scrub the counters while watching the clock, anxiously awaiting the end of your shift, you prepare yourself for the end; the end of the best thing you’ve ever had, and arguably… the best thing you ever will have.

---------

12 A.M., sharp.

Plunk, plunk.

The small rocks that hit your window make you shoot out of your bed, practically tossing the book you had been reading to distract yourself.

(More like rereading the same page, too anxious to think of anything else.)

Pushing up on your window, you chuckle quietly to yourself as Bucky looks up at you, grinning that stupid grin he always has. His hair looks damp as he rakes a hand through it.

“Watch out princess, m’comin’ up.” He calls out, as quiet as he can be in the situation.

“Don’t break any bones, please.”

“You know I won’t.”

He jumps up to the tree adjacent to your house, legs swinging to support himself as he easily scales the tree. He’s pretty adept at this, with nights and nights of practice to ensure that he doesn’t fall. As if it was nothing, you move aside for Bucky to reach the window sill and easily swing himself in. You can’t help but bite back a smile as he shuts the window quietly, and turns to face you.

“There’s my best girl,” he says, stepping towards you. His hands cup your cheeks as he presses his lips against yours. “I missed you.”

Like it always is, you melt like butter as he touches you and kisses you like that. How could you not, with someone like him?

“I missed you too.” You answer, but your voice is muffled by his lips. Pulling away from you, he tucks your hair behind your ears.

The look he gives you now is different than he normally looks at you. His thumb runs against your lower lip, his eyes slowly tracing the features on your face. Neither of you says anything for a long time, afraid to shatter the delicate silence as he memorizes the way you look in this moment.

You know what he’s doing, and you start to do the same. Neither of you wants to say it, but, you want to remember this, you want to remember each other.

Leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him, after a long silence, his brow furrows and his hands slide to hold your waist; fingers gripping your skin there.

“Touch me,” you sigh against his mouth, hand gripping the hair at the back of his neck. Something in your voice tells Bucky that tonight is going to be different, from all the other times you’ve slept together. “Please-just-please, Bucky.”

So he does. He lifts you like you weigh absolutely nothing, lips never leaving yours. With each touch, each kiss, each gasp; you pathetically attempt to stop your brain from thinking about what’s bound to come.

Afterward, as you lay in the humid, hot air in your room, you’re in his arms. You’ve grown accustomed to this; his sweaty skin against your equally sweaty skin, the window propped open, relishing in the air that hits you. But unlike those nights, no one has said a word yet. And no one does, until he clears his throat, kissing your cheek.

“My flight leaves early tomorrow.”

The words cut through you harder than you thought they would.

“Oh.” That’s all that you can manage to stay. It’s all you can say. The pounding in your head starts then, and you feel as if a rug is being pulled from beneath you.

“Would you want to… see me off? I know Rebecca would want to say goodbye, too.” He says it carefully; his voice an octave higher than normal. He’s nervous.

You don’t look at him, because if you do, your dream-like state that you’ve been living in will leave you and you’ll be left alone with the reality that you started in. So you just nod slowly, burying yourself in his arms, and reply,

“Yeah, I can do that.”

----------

The last time you were in an airport, you were just a girl, saying goodbye to your grandparents. You hadn’t thought of the next time you’d ever be back here; it was so far away from where you resided.

But here you are, with Bucky, a boy who’s changed every fiber of who you are. He’s leaving you to go back to his life in Brooklyn, his new life that he’s going to be making for himself. Your heart is practically breaking already as his parents and sister leave you two to say your goodbyes.

Bag in hand, and a baseball cap on his head, Bucky just grabs you in his arms. He’s strong, and he knows it - you certainly know it - but you don’t care that you feel like he’s breaking you. You’d gladly let him break you, a thousand times over if it meant you never would have to leave his arms again.

He kisses your head, and that’s when your first tear falls. He pulls away after a moment, the sadness in his eyes apparent.

“Hey-hey. Don’t cry, princess.” His thumb comes to swipe under your eye, and you just hiccup. This is pathetic, you think, berating yourself. “I had a lot of fun this Summer.”

“I did too. I just-I don’t want to go back to reality, I guess.” You manage to answer, wondering how he can be so calm when he clearly wants to just...stay. With you.

“It’ll be okay. I have your number and address. I promise I’ll call and text, and hey, maybe even send you a napkin note.” He reassures, chuckling a little, which makes you smile slightly. “There’s my favorite smile.”

Your rosy cheeks return, and he kisses you again. His family calls his name, and he sighs in annoyance, turning to make a face, a face that reads yeah yeah, I got it. I’m coming. Turning back to you, he regains his focus. He’s doing it again -- memorizing you.

“You changed my life, you know that?” Bucky all but whispers.

Regardless if he knows it or not, he’s making this harder for you. You can’t really blame him, though.

“You changed mine too, Buck.” You reply, voice shaking.

With another call from his dad, all he can do now is kiss you; and boy, does he kiss you. He grabs you and it nearly makes you gasp, but it’s quickly swallowed by his mouth on yours; no cares in the world -- which is classic for him. You don’t care how much of a mess you look as he pulls away, and he says,

“I’ll see you later, ok?”

And as he brought color and life back into your life, the world around you feels as if it fades to black and white, returning to the state he found you in, as he walks away to the terminal. In another life, another time, you’ll find him again.

But for now, you mourn. You mourn what you could have had with him, and you drive home, radio on silent. Allowing yourself to be sad is the only way you can remind yourself that what you had with him was real and that something like that for you is possible.

-----------

This is when the feeling s i n k s i n,

I don't wanna miss you l i k e t h i s.

#bucky barnes x reader #my writing #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #marvel au #marvel #marvel fanfiction

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