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solalunar-eclipse · 3 years

Text

Team Dark: A Holiday Special

Chapter Two: Shadow

One | Three

Word count: about 6500 words

No warnings, just more angst than last time because Shadow.

Author’s Note: Thank you all so much for the great comments you left on chapter one- it’s really what keeps me writing and posting.

In other news, I believe that Hanukkah started yesterday evening, so to anyone who celebrates that holiday, Happy Hanukkah!

...

It was the dawn of a bright new day, and Shadow stirred as the sun rose, feeling oddly content. His bed was warm, and he was comfortable, and he really didn’t want to get up just yet. Fumbling around on the bedside table for his book, he began to feel even better at the thought of hiding under the covers for another hour or two, curled up reading…

Except his book wasn’t there. He made several quiet irritated noises, before forcing himself to sit upright.

Chaos, he was not a morning person.

This was incredibly frustrating, of course, since he only needed about five hours of sleep a night and tended to wake up early. Coffee beans usually helped with that, though, and some hot water.

His thoughts now focused on coffee, Shadow dragged himself slowly out of bed, shuddering as the cold air hit his fur. He searched through the clothes he’d brought and pulled out a warm, soft sweater, sighing with relief as he put it on. It was his favorite, too, since it matched his stripes nicely.

Sliding on a pair of slippers (plaid, fluffy, chosen by Rouge) he padded downstairs silently, eyes scanning the area for his book- and caffeine. He wandered through the main hall, enjoying the view that the large windows provided of the snowy landscape. Still, he wished they’d turn the heating up a little, shuddering as he wrapped his arms around himself tightly.

As he walked into the kitchen, still half-lost in a morning haze, Shadow was fully awakened by the shock of seeing other people up. More specifically, Rouge’s mother and stepmother were cooking. Already. He clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from shouting, and his quills bristled in surprise.

His friend’s mother startled and dropped the flour she was carrying, while her stepmother yelped and fumbled with the frying pan on the stove. Shadow rushed over and caught the dropped bag before it could explode, his nerves feeling slightly shot from having to deal with so much this early on.

“My bad,” he whispered, placing the flour on the island in the middle of the kitchen. “I didn’t know anyone else was awake yet- sorry.” he finished lamely. The hedgehog began to feel slightly uncomfortable, as both of the other occupants of the kitchen were looking directly at him. Until now, he’d managed to avoid everyone’s notice pretty well at this party, fading quietly into the background after that first introduction.

He was not prepared to socialize, especially not this early.

Camellia just smiled at him, though, and said kindly, “It’s perfectly alright, honey, we didn’t realize anyone else could stand to get up so early either!”

Rouge’s mother rolled her eyes good-naturedly at Shadow as she walked past him. “You say that like I like mornings, Cam.” she quipped.

He felt awkward just standing in the middle of the room- especially having interrupted their formerly-private moment- so he took a couple of steps to the side quietly. “I’ll just be out of your way now…”

“Oh no, don’t worry about it at all!” the bat exclaimed. “Were you looking for something, sugar?”

Having two terms of endearment directed his way in as many minutes stressed (and slightly flustered) Shadow, and he found himself beginning to retreat into his usual cold persona. The hybrid muttered, “I was just looking for my book. If you happened to know where the coffee is, that would help. That’s all.”

The cardinal handed him a bag of coffee beans, still smiling warmly. “And I think your book’s over there, honey.”

Shadow took his book and turned to walk out of the room, nodding a quiet ‘thank you’ as he did so.

However...the second he set a foot outside the kitchen doorway, he froze. Looking back over his shoulder, he asked, “...how much more do you have to do?”

It would be downright rude to leave his hosts doing all the work, wouldn’t it?

...and why did that sentence sound like someone else had said it?

“Oh! Well, we have the eggs, and the waffles, and the…” the bat began to rattle off a long list of the different things they had to make. “But don’t worry about us, dear, you have your book to read!”

He wavered a moment longer in the doorway, before reluctantly putting the book down. Walking back to stand in front of them, he sighed. “Where are the aprons, then?” he asked flatly.

“Are you sure, honey?” Camellia asked. “You really needn’t trouble yourself…”

Shadow raised a brow ever so slightly. “I’m sure.”

“Oh, aren’t you sweet!” Rouge’s mother gasped. “We usually get help a little later on, but if you really want to…”

“I have a little experience with cooking, but not much.” he warned, taking the apron she offered him and putting it on. (This was true. He only knew how to make waffles and French toast, and that was just because Rouge decided she would go without breakfast if she had to cook.)

The cheerful cardinal pulled him over to the counter, making Shadow startle slightly. “Have you ever made hash browns before, honey? Those shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“No…?” he said, a little confused. “I...I’ve never had those before. What are they?”

“What?” Lila cried out, on the other side of the room. “What has Rouge been feeding you? Well, it’s about time you learned then.” She moved over to stand next to Shadow, handing him a bag of potatoes.

The hedgehog just stared at the vegetables, his mind going blank.

He needed to have his coffee before he dealt with this. Now.

…

Two hours and several handfuls of coffee beans later, Shadow could say that he absolutely knew what hash browns were, having produced enough of them to feed an army. He had also made veritable mountains of scrambled eggs and stacks of pancakes, all while asking ‘Are you sure we need this many?’. He’d thought that the dinner spread was incredible last night, but seeing everything as it was being made only served to emphasize just how much food everyone here needed.

A few other family members had shown up near the end to help out Rouge’s parents, but the real flow of people was only just beginning. Young children were now rushing down the stairs, lured by the smell of breakfast. A few adults began to come down as well, along with Rouge and Omega.

The younger bat looked a little surprised to see Shadow in the kitchen, and he internally cringed as he realized just how bad he must look right now. His quills were tied back in a sloppy ponytail and the apron he’d been given was more than a little long on him. It wasn’t long enough to conceal his slippers, though, and his sweater was rolled up past his elbows, while his arms were covered in flour, sugar, and even a little bit of oil.

“Aww, hon! You’ve been helping!” she said, batting her eyelashes in a blatantly over-the-top manner. She was clearly fighting the urge to laugh at his appearance.

Shadow rolled his eyes. “Don’t rub it in.”

Rouge’s mother bustled up at that, smiling warmly at him. Shadow became significantly more uncomfortable- he was used to having glowers and wide-eyed stares directed at him, not...that.

“He just walked over and demanded an apron, then he got right to work!” she said cheerfully. “He’s really quite helpful, honestly!”

Omega looked at the older bat. “Shadow does not like to admit that he’s helping, even when he is very clearly doing so. His pride is too great to ever admit that he’d do such a thing.”

The hybrid scowled. “That is not true.”

Rouge giggled. “Oh, it’s not, hm? Then what about the time you finished-”

“-don’t you dare-”

“-cleaning my room when I-”

“-now you know how it feels, Shadow-”

“-shut up-”

“-took a quick break, or the time when-”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Shadow roared, leaping at her. Rouge’s mother seemed quite startled at this, but Rouge started cackling just like last night, and Omega looked incredibly smug (somehow), watching as she dodged his attack.

“Just look a little sad, Mom, and maybe tell him you’d be ‘ever so grateful’ and he’ll drop everything to do iiiaaaAAAAH!!”

Shadow had managed to catch Rouge and pin her down on the couch. “Take it back.”

“Never.” she said, smiling sweetly at him.

The hybrid prepared himself to inflict some sort of punishment (messing up her makeup, perhaps, or tickling) when he was hoisted bodily and flung over a very square and very metallic shoulder.

“Umph.” he wheezed in a very undignified manner as Omega hauled him out of the room.

The robot looked very pleased with himself. “Ah yes. Revenge is truly sweet.”

...

“Alright, guys!” Rouge announced after breakfast. “It’s perfect weather out, so you know what we’re gonna do? We are going sledding.”

Shadow- who had been cleaning up and lost in thought- nearly hit the ceiling. “Wait, what?”

“Don’t worry, hon, we’ll get you all wrapped up first.” Rouge said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The hybrid’s body immediately sagged in poorly disguised relief.

Five minutes later, Shadow wore three layers of shirts, a coat, sweatpants, snow boots, thick gloves, a hat, and a scarf. “I look like an idiot.” he growled.

“Would you prefer to be cold?” Omega asked him dryly.

Shadow shuddered at the very thought. Pulling his clothes a little tighter, he was suddenly launched back into the past, a very particular memory running through his mind.

“You ready for lessons today, Shadow?” a young, blond-haired girl asked.

Maria.

Shadow, at the perky young age of two and two-thirds (eight mentally), leaned on the edge of her bed, smiling. “Always!”

Professor Gerald entered shortly with their lesson for the day- exponentials for Maria and multiplying fractions for Shadow- and began to teach.

As Shadow worked on his problems later, the professor’s voice going on in the background as he spoke to his granddaughter, he began to notice his fingers trembling. Weird.

The longer he worked, the more it spread, until his fur was bristling and his whole body shook occasionally. But he was the Ultimate Lifeform! He was made to be tough!

So he kept on going.

Eventually, his breath began to come short and his teeth clicked together. He accidentally dropped his pencil, his fingers trembling too much to hold it.

Maria noticed.

“Shadow, are you alright?” she asked. “Come here for a second…”

He walked over, trying to keep his legs from shaking and failing miserably. She reached out to touch his arm, but gasped as soon as she felt his fur.

“Maria!” he cried out, worried. “Maria, what’s wrong?”

“You’re freezing, Shadow! Come here…”

She pulled him onto the bed next to her, the warm quilt on it keeping her from struggling as Shadow had.

He let out an involuntary sigh as warmth began to flood his body, melting away the shudders and allowing his breathing to return to normal.

“Strange…” the professor had said, after getting Shadow a warm jacket to wear. “This was unexpected- I didn’t think it was so cold! I know the temperature on the space station is meant to simulate wintertime inside on Earth, but it’s only an indoor climate.” He’d later discovered that Shadow’s DNA predisposed him to get cold easily.

Or as Rouge put it: “You’re half lizard, hon. I’m honestly surprised you don’t spend all day lying on hot rocks when it’s cold.”

That event had led to a lifelong hatred of Space Colony ARK’s air conditioning (and several heated glares at the ventilation system for Maria’s benefit).

And then…

Shadow remembered what it felt like to have ice cover his body. When he’d woken up from his frozen sleep, he’d been filled with a chill he just couldn’t shake.

He’d been able to ignore it in his quest for revenge, but from then until he finally went Super, he had struggled to become warm, even in the tropical heat of the jungle. A cold sensation had settled in his very bones.

But now, he no longer felt frozen inside, and the cold was just an irritation, albeit a slightly more emotionally charged one.

Wasn’t everything.

Rouge and Omega had both been incredibly understanding, though. The bat had never made him go outside when it was cold, and she often dumped armfuls of blankets on him at random moments. (He appreciated it more than he let on.) The E-series robot was more subtle in his support, doing things like handing Shadow an extra scarf before he left their house or silently placing a mug of hot chocolate next to him when he shivered.

And now, they were standing in front of him, having packed all of these clothes for his benefit.

Somehow, Shadow couldn’t find it in himself to complain.

“No,” he sighed, “I suppose I don’t.”

“Alright, guys, let’s go!” Rouge practically dragged them out the door, pushing Shadow up onto Omega’s shoulders and then flying up to grab his hands once they were outside.

“I will never comprehend how such a small being has the power to lift both myself and Shadow.” Omega commented as they took off.

“Lots of practice- hff- and weight training- hh- does the trick.” Rouge gasped, evidently straining to keep them in the air. “I’m- ngh- out of practice.”

“It’s fine, Rouge.” Shadow said, his voice muffled by the scarf. “Take your time.”

Eventually, they made it to a giant hill with an incredibly steep slope. As they trudged up to the top, the (relatively) small hedgehog began to notice just how very angled and high the incline was...

Shadow regretted everything.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Rouge?” he asked, watching as Omega lay down on what would have been his chest to be the actual sled.

“Of course, hon! It’s going to be great!”

“Uh…” the hedgehog muttered nervously, even as he allowed Rouge to pull him onto the robot’s back. “I…”

“Alright let’s go.” Omega said quickly, firing his rocket boosters.

Rouge whooped and Shadow (to his eternal shame) screamed as they blasted down the hill at top speed, flying across a patch of ice at the bottom and skidding to a stop several yards away. Panting heavily from his adrenaline rush, Shadow fought to get his thoughts in order. “That...that was….”

“Awesome!” Rouge shouted. “We’re doing that again!”

“...alright?” Shadow agreed. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice, but it was a little fun.

The next time, Rouge tried lying down and yelled the whole way- not being able to see where you were going made things a lot more scary. Omega tried carrying them up to the top of the hill as well, completely eliminating the usual grind of dragging a sled up the slope that came with this activity. Shadow got into it eventually, clearly enjoying himself despite the fact that he never quite yelled like Rouge as they careened wildly downhill.

Eventually, Rouge convinced Shadow to try lying down as well. “Don’t worry, hon, I’ll hang onto you and make sure nothing bad happens.” she reassured him.

“Okay...okay. Just make sure you hold on tight.” Shadow groaned, clinging to Omega with enough force to strain his fingers.

They blasted off down the hill and Shadow shouted in surprise- this was so much more intense! He felt every bump and jolt all the way down, but it was all fun.

Until Rouge yelled, “Omega! Tree!!”

Shadow gasped, startled. There was a tree and it was coming up-!

Omega fired his left booster, spinning them far away from the tree. Unfortunately, that meant spinning literally, as he’d majorly overcompensated for the potential collision. Whirling around in a circle, both Shadow and Rouge were thrown off. The bat managed to catch herself mid-air with her wings, but the shaken hedgehog wasn’t quite as lucky.

Shadow’s vision went completely white. For a moment, he feared he’d hit his head- but it was only snow. He sighed in relief.

That feeling didn’t last long, though, as he felt the cold begin to seep in from all sides. Panic wormed its way into his chest- and then when he tried to move, he could only push helplessly against the lightly packed material.

Calm down. It’s only snow. Rouge and Omega will be here any minute now.

He took a deep breath.

And another.

And then Omega was there, clasping his hand to pull him out of the snow, and Rouge was sitting on his shoulder, looking worried but pleased to see him alright.

“I’m so sorry, hon, I didn’t mean for that to happen…” she said sympathetically.

“Neither did I.” Omega added, and Shadow noticed that the robot wasn’t quite looking him in the eye.

The cold was quickly banished with yet another reminder of just how much his friends cared. “It’s fine. I just…” He looked away, a little embarrassed. “I did what the therapist told me to do and just breathed, and waited for you.”

“Awww, that’s good, hon! Tolja therapy’d help somehow.” Rouge smirked at him, but it was all warmth and kindness underneath.

Shadow shuffled awkwardly in the snow. “It seems that way...I’ve decided to keep going with it, after all.”

“Excellent.” Omega said, and Shadow felt even better. “Now we should get back. Shadow appears to require the immediate application of blankets and hot cocoa.”

The snowy, slushy hedgehog was not in the mood to protest, and simply said, “Yes. Now.”

...

Two pairs of red eyes narrowed in a face-off. It had taken their owners over an hour to get to this point- the final competition. The winner of this match would be crowned champion.

About half of Rouge’s family watched, holding their breath as Shadow opened his mouth to speak.

“E-4.”

“Miss.”

“Dammit!”

Shadow didn’t care one bit who might hear him swear right now, his teeth gritted and mind racing a mile a minute. He was supposed to be good at tactics and strategy, yet here he was losing at Warboat. Badly.

Three of his ships, covered in red markers, lay slain off to one side. Meanwhile, Omega had only lost one and a half of his. Accursed computer processors.

The hedgehog was certain that Omega would have a gigantic grin on his face, if it were possible for him to produce one. As it was, he stared constantly at Shadow, even as he moved his markers around.

“C-6.”

Shadow felt relief flood his very soul. “Miss.”

It didn’t take long for Shadow’s fourth ship to get knocked out, even as he still searched for Omega’s third. He was getting trounced, and he knew it. Yet still, somehow, he had a shred of hope.

But then, two rounds later, he snarled furiously when Omega switched his LED eyes from full circles to half-moons- an evident hint at a smile.

“H-2.”

Shadow’s stomach dropped. “No!”

“Yes.” the robot said proudly, before planting a red marker on his board.

The hedgehog began to search frantically for Omega’s ship, his moves becoming increasingly random and less thought-out as imminent destruction closed in.

Finally, something happened. “A-1.”, he muttered, resigned to his painful end.

“...hit.”

“Yessss.” Shadow hissed, somehow feeling triumph despite his imminent defeat.

“Yay.” Rouge remarked dryly from the spectating area. “Consolation prize.”

“Shut uuup.” he whined petulantly, before realizing how very relaxed his demeanor had become. Straightening his back and smoothing down his quills, he allowed that familiar blank expression to settle back into place. “No distracting the players, please.” he added coolly.

Was it him, or was that a flash of...disappointment he caught from her?

Anyhow, he lost on the very next turn. Grumbling quietly, he went to sit down on a couch as Omega partied loudly with all of the children, blasting up-tempo dance music from his speakers.

It was one of the children (such sweet little kids, some of them were) who suggested that they make trophies. Pulling out cardboard and paper to draw on, they quickly made little certificates and gold, silver and bronze medals. One parent found some ribbon to thread through a punched-out hole, and then the little ones all scrambled to set up a proper ceremony “like on TV”.

As Shadow bent down to receive his handmade medal and crayon certificate, he knew without a doubt that this was being saved. For good.

…

Later, Shadow was relaxing in his bedroom when Rouge’s mother walked in, Omega following behind her.

“Oh, good, I’ve found you!” she said, her voice bright as always, but...off, this time. “Would you mind coming with me for a minute?”

As Shadow followed her out of the room, exchanging bewildered looks with Omega, he realized what the strange tone was.

Her voice was brittle. Fragile. As though it might break if one of them spoke wrong.

They entered a different room, one high up and far away from the rest of the party. Rouge’s mother stood in front of them for a moment, pulling at her sweater before deciding to sit down. She looked at her gloves for a moment, clearly thinking…

And then promptly burst into tears.

The two were incredibly startled at this, and despite both being relatively...emotionally inexperienced, they gathered around her to try and help.

“Uh...I...is something wrong?” Shadow asked, immediately kicking himself mentally. Of course something’s wrong, people don’t cry if everything’s perfectly fine!

Omega, thankfully, got straight to the point. “What is it?”

“It’s...no, no, it was...Rouge.” the bat said, her voice sounding choked.

“Rouge?!” Shadow’s quills bristled. “What happened?”

“She...when Rouge came back. From her two years, you know, away-”

Shadow and Omega did know, now.

“-she came to the party two years ago, and she was different. She was cold, and distant, didn’t talk, and only laughed a- at people, not with them.”

Rouge? Cold and distant?!

“She wouldn’t talk to anybody about her life- the only reason I even knew she worked for G.U.N. was the logo on the paychecks she sent. When she stopped sending those, after I told her the news about Camellia- she took that well enough, but after that...I heard nothing. Nothing, for almost ten months.”

Omega’s eyes were wide, and Shadow was sure his own were as well.

“A-and then one day, she called me up. Her voice was different. Warmer. Happier. She apologized for her silence, and said she’d been in a bad place. I blamed myself, and accepted her apology, of course. She had to grow up so young, do so much all by herself… and she paid the price for it...for a while.

“And then I happened to look at an old article a couple weeks later, and I realized why she was better- and I couldn’t believe I’d missed it. My baby girl, in the news! And of all the things...fighting a world-renowned supervillain alongside the likes of Sonic the Hedgehog!

“But that wasn’t why she was better. No, when I started searching the internet frantically and saw her perched on the shoulder of a massive black and red robot, laughing uproariously- when I finally worked up the courage to go to her social media pages and saw, not darkness and pain, but her with an arm slung tightly around a young striped hedgehog, flashing the biggest smile I’d seen in years, I knew.”

Shadow’s hands were jittery and he really wished his heart would stop beating so loudly.

“It was both of you. I never found out the specifics as to how she met you two- I hope she’ll tell me the story someday- but you saved her from all of it. She had coworkers, sure, some nicer than others, but you gave her friends, and ones who understood her position at that.

“And this year- getting into a snowball fight! Telling silly stories at the dinner table! She would never have done that last year, mark my words.”

Rouge’s mother was smiling broadly through her tears now, looking at both of them. She reached out and hugged Omega, tightly but quickly, and did the same for Shadow, leaving him dumbfounded. “Just- I-

“Thank you.”

Shadow sat there for a minute, unable to do anything other than keep a hand on her shoulder. Suddenly, though, he noticed some movement by the door, and spun around to see Rouge standing there, absolutely silent as mascara-filled tears streamed down her face. Her hand was clamped over her mouth, presumably to keep from making any noise.

“Rouge?” her mother asked, startled.

“Mooommmmm….” she whined, her own voice sounding tight- and then she rushed across the room and into her mother’s arms. “I love you, Mom.”

Shadow tried very hard to ignore the burning sensation just behind his eyes.

“You’re right. About, like, all of it.” Rouge said quietly, once she was finished crying with her mom. “Nothing here mattered to me when I was out there every day being, basically a soldier, y’know?”

She sighed, wiping more tears from the corners of her eyes, and stood up. “I think now’s a good time to say something that I’ve been thinking about for a while. Sorry if it isn’t perfect-” she laughed thickly- “I’m not exactly in the best state right now.”

Rouge’s mother smiled at her. “I’ll give you three some privacy, then.” she said gently, closing the door on her way out.

After she left, the younger bat resumed her impromptu speech. “Okay. Omega....chaos. Omega. Ohhh man.” She pointed at him. “That day? When you busted out of heckin’ nowhere and started blasting your machine guns like mad? O-one of the best days of my life. Wanna know why? I met you.”

Omega looked very fixedly at a point on the wall behind her.

“You literally carry me places. You crush our enemies with your epic missiles and fists of steel. You helped me prank Knuckles so bad he was checking everywhere for traps for the next week. You’re so fun and I just. You. Awesome. I can’t explain it properly right now but hopefully I’ll get to do a lot more of that later. You’re the best ever.”

“I…” Omega sounded like he was at a loss for words. “I am...honestly extremely flattered by this statement. I will continue to carry you places and destroy all who oppose us.”

“Awesome.” Rouge grinned.

“Aaaand Shadow.” She wheeled to face him, and the hedgehog in question attempted to mentally prepare himself and failed horribly. “You. You are so cool there are no words to describe it. And I don’t mean because you own a motorbike or you dress in all black or any of that stuff.

“I mean because like half the people who’ve been important in your life so far have been trying to kick the ever-loving hell out of you...and yet you get up each and every single time they do it and win. Honestly...I’m proud to know you, Shadow. And I hope you know that if you need me, for anything ever, know that I will give up the Master Emerald in a hot second to help.

“So yeah. And you’re the first guy I’ve ever met who’s actually willing to talk makeup- let alone likes it. The one who tries all the new restaurants with me. And the only person I will ever know who can somehow handle going to the mall with me more than once in a week.” Rouge finished with a smirk. “I guess you really are Ultimate.”

Everyone in the room who had tear ducts was currently using them. A lot.

Shadow sniffed furiously and wiped tears from his eyes. “Th- thank you…” He cursed internally as his voice betrayed him.

“Oh yeah, get ready for more.” Rouge warned him. “There’s more.”

The hybrid’s throat tightened in response.

“You know how I said, before we came here, that you guys meant as much to me as my real family?”

“Yes?” Omega asked, his voice sounding a little quieter than usual.

“To heck with that. You guys don’t have to, like, change anything because of this, but you are my family. You’re both my real family. As real as Mom is.” Rouge said, her words shaky yet determined.

Shadow felt as though he’d just been struck by a bolt of lightning. Dazed, he swayed slightly, clinging to the edge of his seat.

Family?

Is...is Rouge...is Omega….

He began to hyperventilate just thinking about it, just considering that after all he’d been through, after everything he’d lived through- at the end of it all, waiting for him, right now, was a--

“Shadow. Shadow, hold your breath.” Omega reminded him, and he shut his mouth and clasped his hands tightly for a minute.

A family? My family?!

“I- yes. Please. Yes. Family sounds good.” Shadow managed to stammer.

“Well, then!” Rouge said, looking pleased. “Now I get to assume the official Big Sister duties of kicking anyone who dares look at you wrong and buying you food.”

Shadow blushed a little. “Rouge. I don’t need protecting like that...”

“I know, but since when’s that going to stop me?” she asked. “And don’t start complaining- being the baby brother’s the good life, from what I’ve heard.”

A fresh wave of tears poured down his face at the words ‘baby brother’.

Of course, that was when Omega decided to go completely off the rails. “Am I the middle sibling or the youngest?”

Shadow and Rouge stared at him for a second. Then they both started laughing wildly, the toll of the various emotional highs and lows hitting them all at once.

“M-middle one.” Rouge gasped out eventually. “Definitely, the attention-seeking middle sibling.”

Omega made angry eyes for a second, but reconsidered. “Fine. That...yes, that works.”

“Family group hug?” Rouge suggested, smiling warmly at them both.

Shadow nodded weakly. “F-family group hug.”

Omega picked them both up and held them tightly. “You both will always be my favorite organic beings.”

“Thanks, Omega.” Rouge said, squeezing them both a little tighter.

…

A couple of hours later, Shadow was pulled out of his room for the third time in two days, again by Rouge’s mother. “Sorry to bother you, honey, I just wondered...would you mind giving us a hand with dinner? You were such a great help with breakfast that Cami and I had hoped....”

Curse you, Rouge.

So now he was in the kitchen. Again.

Only things were very different this time. Now, there were about ten people in there, all rushing around in some complicated pattern and carrying hot, cold, cooked, uncooked, and various other kinds of dishes all over without running into each other.

Somehow.

Shadow, despite feeling very overwhelmed and (strangely) underqualified, took one step into the fray- and immediately jumped several feet straight back as he was nearly mowed down by one of Rouge’s auncles rushing past with some sort of casserole.

“Sorry, kiddo!” they yelled over their shoulder, handing off the dish to someone else before sprinting back across the kitchen. Seconds later, another relative vaulted over the island in the middle of the room to get to the sink as quickly as possible, while carrying a semi-full plate that he somehow managed to keep steady.

The hybrid suddenly remembered several battles and sparring matches that he’d participated in. This...actually looked a lot like those.

He locked eyes with Rouge’s stepmother. She didn’t have time to say anything to him, instead just tilting her head in one direction. Shadow’s eyes snapped to a frying pan left unattended and knew what he had to do.

He took a running start and launched himself clear over several people’s heads before sticking the landing right in front of the pan. Several people applauded, and one person- the vaulting relative from earlier- frowned, having been severely upstaged.

So it was a competition, then?

Shadow looked directly at him and smiled like a feral shark.

...

The wild food preparation/parkour show finished with several people throwing the food to each other across the room like in a musical (Shadow thanked his lucky stars that he’d caught his- it was made of glass), and he decided it only existed because Rouge’s family was extremely over-the-top.

Immediately following that, everyone gathered around for another large dinner, during which Shadow only ate a little. And after too many more embarrassing stories, everyone gathered into a room to watch one of those cheesy Wintersweek romance movies that always came out in droves at this time of year.

Shadow said that they were all incredibly cookie-cutter style stories, each one following the exact same plot. Rouge claimed they were uplifting, fun stories and that she didn’t care if they were all the same. Omega liked to categorize all of the things that were wrong with them, so he was willing to sit with Rouge as she watched them.

The hybrid had scoffed cynically and walked away, filling the kitchen sink with water in the next room over and making a big deal out of clattering the plates around that he planned to wash.

Romance movies were so overrated.

Shadow could still see the screen through the doorway (not that he wanted to), and despite his wishes, the movie kept distracting him. He couldn’t stop himself from looking up to see what was going on.

It appeared to be a classic enemies to lovers story, as currently the shy young woman with a rock band shirt- who also happened to be the main star (cliche alert)- was glowering furiously at the trendy, popular blonde movie star. Who was, of course, berating the main character for her poor customer service.

At a coffee shop.

Shadow sighed loudly.

And of course, just as he’d suspected (he wasn’t paying that much attention to the movie all these films were the same really) they both ended up competing. In a Wintersweek cooking competition.

The movie star was confident she would win. Her film crew was ever-present, taking all the best shots of her as she ‘worked’.

Obviously, the main character was determined to beat her through hard work and skill. She was fully prepared to show this star just who she was dealing with…

...and all that and so on. Shadow rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the soapy water.

And then (this movie was like every single other one!!) their partners both came down with an illness that wiped out several other competitors as well. So naturally they were forced to work together. And of course they worked well, too.

(Shadow had stopped working on the dishes by now. Somewhere around here, he’d forgotten to look away.)

By the time these two had begun to look past each other’s flaws and see the real person beneath them, his eyes were riveted to the screen. It was still bad, he told himself, even as he watched every move they made. It was still bad.

They were working together now, smiling slowly and talking quickly and sometimes, occasionally, laughing. The obligatory hands-touching-by- accident scene happened. The two looked into each other’s eyes.

Shadow couldn’t decide how he felt anymore. Confusing emotions swirled inside him.

The kiss scene. (He saw it coming a mile away.)

The awkwardness. (Just to build up the tension.)

Their lips meet. (And a little voice deep down inside Shadow whispers…

...that feels right.)

The hybrid didn’t move a muscle for the next several minutes of the movie, refusing to miss a moment.

The couple won the competition. Of course, he thought, some form of rational thought returning to him. That was to be expected.

As the movie ended on their celebratory kiss, Shadow began, strangely, to feel as though someone had just punched him in the chest. When the credits rolled, he left, walking away from the movie, trying to get rid of this strange sensation.

He heard the click of Rouge’s high heels follow a minute after. And then the stomp of Omega’s ironclad steps.

Folding his arms, he tried to project an I-don’t-care attitude. Unfortunately for him, Rouge and Omega could a) tell that he was projecting said attitude and b) figured out quickly what he was really thinking. Curses.

“Was it the movie?” Omega asked bluntly.

The only acknowledgment Shadow gave was a slight twitch of his shoulders up and down.

“Did you hate it?” Rouge questioned.

Again, just a twitch of the shoulders.

They both studied him for a second.

“No…” the bat whispered, her teal-shadowed eyes widening. “No, you liked it! You liked it!”

“I did not!” Shadow spat furiously, more venom than he’d intended finding its way into his voice.

“You did.” Omega said. It wasn’t a question.

“I mean…” he sighed, looking away. “Let’s not talk about it, okay?”

“Come on, Shadow…” Rouge said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Please?” Omega asked.

The hybrid groaned. “I...it was just- it wasn’t good, are we clear? It was just sappy. But. If you insist. I suppose...romance...argh. I can’t say it!”

“It’s okay, hon, just be patient.” Rouge said soothingly.

“Ugh...I mean...I’ve never dated someone before. Is it...really that nice?” Shadow muttered. His eyes narrowed, daring them to taunt him.

Omega looked at him, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “You want to date someone?”

“Wh-no, not like that! I- I mean...not just anyone…” he sputtered.

“So you’ve got someone in mind, then?” Rouge smirked at him, raising a brow.

“No!” he snapped, his eyes wide. “I- just meant- promise me you’ll never set me up on a blind date, are we clear?”

“Promise.” she said. “And I’m not crossing my fingers, either.” The bat waved both of them in front of her to demonstrate.

“However, we will force you to converse with others at future social events.” Omega declared. “I have heard that this is the first step in a successful relationship.”

Shadow scowled, but without any real heat. “Don’t you dare.”

Rouge giggled. “No more sulking edgily in the corner for you, emo-hog!”

He groaned. “Are you both turning against me? Really?”

“Of course we are.” Omega remarked. “That is exactly what family is for.”

“I don’t know whether to feel flattered or irritated.” Shadow grumbled.

“Flattered. Definitely~.” Rouge quipped with a wink.

“Ugh. Well, I’m going to bed now. I’ve had enough of this nonsense.” he sighed, stalking out of the room.

“Aw, come on, Shadow!” the bat said teasingly. “Don’t you want to watch the sequel?”

The hybrid spun around so fast his quills nearly sliced up the doorway. “I’m sorry, the what now?”

“The sequel.” Omega repeated flatly. “You know you do.”

He hesitated.

“Fine.” Shadow growled through gritted teeth, his hands occasionally clenching into fists. “But only if I get to run commentary with Omega.”

“Sounds fair!” Rouge chirped, flying off with the other two right behind her.

As they walked away, Shadow in the back, he allowed himself a small, secret smile. They truly cared about him, and he knew they only wanted to see him happy. The teasing was all their way of showing affection. His eyes began to glimmer softly with a faint hint of happiness as fond thoughts and memories drifted through his mind. One sentence, though, stood out above all the rest.

I love my family.

#shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #team dark: a holiday special #team dark #several other things i should probably mention:#please please please don't sled down a hill while lying down #you might crash into a tree #only do so if you are on top of a sentient robot that can steer for you #also i will give omega ALL of the cool upgrades #you can't stop me #and i do hope shadow's not too ooc #i tried my best (even looked up character analyses) but he's SO DIFFICULT to write well #hope you enjoyed!#there's one more part left now- we can't leave our favorite gem thief out!#sol's fanfiction

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absolutebl · 3 years

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Hi! I love the way you write about BL and your analyses and insights have ended up with me watching 40 BLs so far!

I’m currently watching Sotus/Sotus S and I can really see what you mean by saying Kong/Arthrit are like an asexual romantic couple, especially from Arthrit’s side… but… I also see lots of sexual interest/desire from Kongpob whenever he looks at Arthrit. This led to me thinking, do they actually have a sexual relationship and how does that work given the vibes Arthrit gives off? So, I was watching the kiss under the shooting star scene in Sotus S and it all clicked into place for me! Every time Kong flirts with, touches, tries to kiss Arthrit, he backs away, refuses, makes a joke, and Kong always smiles indulgently at him, like he finds it endearing… but! When Arthrit tries to back away in this scene Kong goes full seme on him, grabs his neck, says ‘I’m not letting you get away from me this time’ and Arthrit instantly goes pliant and let’s Kong kiss him. Now I can see how these two work together, Kong is normally a very gentle seme but I reckon he sometimes goes all in and his uke just melts… What do you think about this?

Sorry for such a ramble, I don’t have anyone in real life who will listen to me and BL has eaten my brain!

SOTUS - Kong/Arthit = tsundere, ace, D/s, or...?

It's certainly one way of looking at it, very D/s.

As though Arthit, being the ultimate tsundere (which is what he is as an archetype), is also kinda the ultimate brat, and what he is really asking for is his caring Dom, Kong, to step out of Kong's comfort zone and be VERY firm with Arthit.

Honestly, I think that line of thought is a way many of us work around discomfort in chemistry in BL (when it's on display from the actors) or even the sex negativity we see on display when it's a gentle soft uke character, like Pharm in Until We Meet Again (kinda the opposite of Arthit) who is showing off the blushing maiden archetype. Both characters are equally flinchy about sex, which always makes me cringe a little.

But if I can get my brains to accept that it's all part of a D/s dynamic, then it'll work out for the psyche of this modern queer person. Or indeed a kinkster and/or ally. Isn't that often what we do with the media we adore, try to imagine away the difficult bits? Isn't that what fanfic is all about? Under those circumstances does the writer, director, or actor's intent for the character really count or matter all that much?

This is the great debate of all entertainment media consumption - where is the line between art and artist? Can and should the two be separated? I would argue that if you write fanfic, draw fanart, create FMV for an IP then you are tacitly buying into the idea that the art has been produced and sent out into the world for the audience (AKA market) and is philosophically independent from the original creator as a result. Our very act of watching this thing, and then churning it back out into the word (like I'm doing right now) has an impact on that thing and how it will be perceived going forward.

The show has a life of its own. It changes as we filter it through this lens of ever changing and evolving consumers, social media, and exhibited imagination.

Sorry, that go very art critical theory deep for a moment.

But honestly, I just personally really prefer it if BOTH actors show that their characters are interested and into sex at some point and in some way.

A counter example to Arthit would be someone like Shu Yi in Taiwan's We Best Love. Also starts out as an extremely angry tsundere uke character, but we watch him relax in all ways, including physically into the relationship as it progresses.

Or like CopyNampu in the recent Thai pulp Top Secret Together. Copy is a total head hazer agro tsundere (like Arthit) although he's the seme, but also soft as butter and totally into his boy. He is just terrible at showing it. They manage to show this about his character even though their couple is very low heat and they have little screen time.

Which is not to criticize SOTUS in particular.

I don't think SOTUS or the actors can necessarily be blamed for this. It is a really early BL for Thailand, and things have changed substantially in this regard just in the last few years.

The gayness is allowed to show through in many Thai BLs now in ways SOTUS really didn't have access to as a concept back in 2016. You can't execute what you don't know is an option, or don't realize is damaging to a community. SOTUS just... didn't know any better. Is what I would say.

Most uke characters in y-novels and mangas, when SOTUS was filming, were written as not wanting sex - because if they did that would be slutty (and, theoretically, make them unappealing as characters). This is similar to how its taken a long time for western heterosexual romcoms etc to embrace women having any kind of sexual agency or, indeed, interest in the physical. (See K-dramas grappling with this right now - arches brow at Nevertheless.)

I think Love Sick is actually a bit more representative of the Thai cultural zeitgeist at its time, because it's more a messy high school soap opera. Noh is much less a uke character than he is a confused bisexual. As a result, despite dead fish kisses and very low heat, we never doubt he and Phun are into each other.

It's taking Thailand a while to get over blushing maiden. But I think they are getting there. And, frankly, a great deal faster than we have any right to expect, (given my experience with queer and feminist cinema).

Do they feel Taiwan nipping at their industry heels? Is it global queer community pressure? Is it internal shifts in Thai society? Who knows. Possibly all of the above.

But in rewatching SOTUS my tactic is just to pretend they're ace. It brings me comfort that way. Your tactic should be whatever helps you enjoy it the most. It's entertainment, after all.

P.S. I am SO GLAD you are up to 40 BLs! Yes! Join the madness!!!

#sotus #history of bl #bl analysis #queer critique #signs of the times #love sick #we best love #taiwanese bl #thai bl #sex negativity #blushing maiden #bl tropes #kongarthit

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askabound · 3 years

Text

HEADCANON : sirius + romance

general disclaimer: as usual, there are all my own ideas and thoughts that i’ve poured into analysing sirius’s character and fleshing out my own portrayal. everything expressed in this post refers strictly to my sirius. this is not to say if we have opposing views, that there are any right or wrong ways of writing sirius and interpreting this side of him.

when it comes to sirius, this is more or less the most difficult topic to broach and analyse given the fact that there is absolutely very little to no canon information or even hints to draw from and be inspired by. however, what we can do instead is take an in-depth look at sirius’s life and the environment he grew up in as well as the entourage he surrounded himself with later in life in order to clue us into what sirius’s understanding of romance was and how he approached it.

environment

sirius didn’t grow up in the most outwardly loving environment. while it would be a lie to say that walburga and orion bIack didn’t love their sons infinitely, they didn’t have the most conventional ways to show it. as for romantic love, or any other kind of love outside of familial, in sirius’s environment that he might have been exposed to and influenced by, there really wasn’t a great deal of it. at least not fully displayed where sirius could see it. for the most part, his parents were not the affectionate type and they, in my view, were rather efficient parents who worked together to raise their children in the best way they saw fit. as far as sirius could see and gauge from them, their relationship was based more on their partnership and their love/loyalty for their family rather than anything pertaining to romance.

sirius was also raised to value his family above all else, to trust that he will only ever have them to fall back on, that only they will have his back and that they will always be together through thick and thin. that is sirius’s understanding of love and those are the same concept that he carries with him when he meets the marauders and over the years they become his new family.

sirius’s first impact with anything remotely romantic was watching his friends and the people around him at hogwarts begin to mature and develop feelings of such nature. he observed these feelings in james for any potential girls or people he might have been interested in before lily and then of course, for her. he started noticing when exactly conversations between children shifted their focus to relationships, girls, boys, little displays of affection, dates and other things that are to be expected of now teens.

experience

not a great deal. sirius never had any serious romantic relationships at hogwarts, nor did he venture into anything that required any type of attachment outside of his tight knit group of friends after graduation. being a very pragmatic and efficient individual, sirius prioritised the war and especially the responsibility of ensuing his friends and their loved ones’ safety and survival. likewise, at hogwarts, his priorities lay with his family and the marauders and due to the very delicate nature of the issues he struggled with throughout all his years in school, he never trusted anyone enough to let them into the fold of his peer group, nor did he feel naturally inclined to begin to harbour feelings for anyone who wasn’t as close to him as james, remus, and peter.

he might have entertained the thought, once, and very briefly at that, around the same time that boys started talking exclusively about girls and dating around him and we know that at the very least girls were interested in sirius so there was never a shortage in offers. at most, i can see him talking to girls purely with the intention of being amicable and because throughout his childhood he was mostly surrounded by girls and therefore he understood and knew how to talk to them. he might have even tried hand-holding and kissing because it was what everyone was doing but being as non-committal as he was outside of the marauders and his family, nothing more than that ever happened.

so... who then?

ultimately, i can only see sirius going against his nature that holds him back from feeling any romantic attraction towards anyone for someone remarkable. someone who will keep him on his toes, someone who challenges him in the best way possible to change and grow and develop and learn interesting things that captivate his attention, someone engaging and stimulating who has something positive to add to his life, not subtract from it.

it can’t be anyone who makes it too easy for him or anyone who is too keen on him because you have to understand that sirius has childhood trauma that resulted in sirius’s belief that you have to work hard to earn someone’s love and affection and to meet certain standards. for sirius to be captivated and taken by someone, he needs that consistent push and pull, the ease of banter. in other words, someone with whom he can have the perfect roast to flirting ratio. bickering has to be conducted in a specific way, the other person has to be right otherwise it’s frustrating for him and indicative of the fact that he has nothing to learn from them, but they can’t be too right otherwise he will feel stupid.

likewise, it has to be someone close to his tight knit group of friends or someone sirius sees the potential in to get along with them. if they don’t like any of his friends or they are feuding, it is absolutely grounds for sirius not to even pay them any mind. in other words, he wouldn’t even consider talking to someone, let alone deepening a bond, if that person did not love james, remus and peter equally. he isn’t a very trusting person by nature and he only ever fully trusted his family and his best friends therefore it would take a great deal for someone outside of sirius’s very small circle to earn his trust.

conclusion

sirius wasn’t raised nor exposed to good and healthy examples of romantic love. the only kind of love he understands fully and extensively is familial love. at school, he never engaged in anything more than talking to girls, at most holding hands with someone and kissing as teens normally would but he never committed to anyone. after school, he prioritised the war effort, his and his loved ones’ survival and he didn’t understand the point in getting attached for fear of experiencing even more loss. for sirius to go against his nature and to fall in love, it would take a lot and the truth is, no one that truly captured his attention got to stumble into his life in the canon timeline.

#❛ headcanon › there are things worth dying for #a lot of requirements #no wonder he died a--#LKJSHDFG #DO NOT QUOTE ME ON THAT #also you can tell at which point i fully gave up on over explaining lkjshdfg

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variousqueerthings · 3 years

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thinking about these awesome tags from @catzy88 and wanted to just speak to essentially what they talk about and one of my favourite writing choices of the show (so far, considering my predictions for what’ll happen moving forward):

and it’s Johnny’s two-steps-forward-one-step (sometimes several steps) -back journey.

1. Introduction

there’s a few of things that happen on the show that get wrapped up in a semi-fantastical/wish-fulfilmenty way (Miguel recovering from his back injury like he does, Daniel sorting out his dealership problems with Doyona, etc.) and I’m not mad about it, it fits in with the generally optimistic tone of the show + various circumstances that surround these choices, so they’re not one-note writing decisions -

ex. aftermath of Miguel’s surgery will continue to be explored on s4 so it’s not done and over with without consequences versus the way Daniel’s journey to Okinawa is about healing in various ways, so that deus ex machina fits in with the tone of that storyline. People’s mileage probably vary, but I think it’s all relatively well-balanced (pun not intended) with the deeper, less-easily-fixable issues and character dynamics that the show explores.

2. Johnny’s Story

If everything on this show were easy it wouldn’t be so watchable. Which is where Johnny comes in (amongst other characters, but I’m gonna focus).

in contrast Johnny’s journey for three seasons has had a lot of good intentions - help Miguel, get his life in order, forgive and forget the past, mend his relationship with Robby, be generally better to himself and others - and the majority of it’s gone pretty badly.

I have predictions that there’ll be a flip in s4 and Daniel’s going to spiral more obviously, while Johnny’s going to be healing/functioning somewhat better. I also think it’s important to show him failing despite being in a better place than end season 2/beginning season 3. And failing again. And failing again.

Johnny (and Daniel, but I shall focus!) doesn’t come onto this show with easily fixed issues. He’s likely been an alcoholic since he was in his 20s, he’s isolated to the extreme, he can’t hold down a job, he’s still under the thumb of his stepdad, and his relationship to Robby is non-existent at best.

In 100 different ways he’s trapped and he’s so trapped that he can’t even envision being less trapped. Starting the dojo is a fluke, combined by meeting and saving Miguel and wanting to spite Daniel. He’s not planning on “getting better,” hell, he doesn’t even think that he has a problem that can be fixed to begin with. Up until this moment life has largely just happened to him and his decisions have been reactionary (and if there were times we don’t know about before now where he tried, he obviously failed)

His thinking clearly goes something like this: “I’ll make this kid not get beat up... and I guess now I’ve got a business so I need other kids? and now I care about this kid I guess, oh and his mom’s pretty nice (and pretty) too... and now I’ve got a business I can buy Sid out, that’s cool... ” etcetcetc. (still reactionary to an extent, although that gradually changes) right up until the tournament happens and he starts to have to face some of the shit he’s been telling these kids and Robby’s with Daniel and Kreese has reappeared...

I’d argue it’s not until mid-ish season 2, when Kreese reveals he’s homeless and Johnny decides that their forgiveness is tied into one another and especially when Tommy dies (still got one thing I don’t... time) that he actually really starts thinking about what all of this means for him longterm, that he can and should want for the future and that he has real responsibilities to do so because of others. It’s also the first time he properly admits that it’s not just “the tournament as a single event,” but the whole philosophy that he was taught that fucked him up (which is scary, because then he’s gotta admit a whole bunch of other stuff - that he has deep-rooted issues and that he needs to try to get better. That he’s both a victim and a perpetrator of this cycle. That just saying things are shit and won’t ever change won’t cut it anymore).

And just as he begins this thought-process and is incredibly vulnerable because of that everything goes to hell.

All of the structures Johnny had been building were on sand, right up to the choice to handshake deal on the dojo, and they all come crashing down spectacularly all at once in the season 2 finale.

Back to square one.

3. Square one (but not really)

This is amazing! It’s giving us a narrative on top of the more fantasy-like narratives that goes: “Not everything can be fixed easily just because we want to fix them,” and, “some things need to fail so that the next time you try, you try better!”

It’s not square one at all.

A whole bunch of shit that Johnny was carrying with him without being able to voice in the first season is now out there, in the open. The ugliness needs to be exposed before it can be healed and (as myself and so many people who’re dealing with xy and z know) when you first “discover” what’s fucked up you can feel like everything’s worse. Your ability to deal with that thing can get a whole lot worse.

Johnny relapses into a version of himself that on the surface looks even worse than in s1, but actually he’s way more open to change, he’s got reasons to get back up again, even if it takes a moment for him to pull himself together to actually do that. It takes pretty much all of season 3 for him to get there (and that was necessary too), but now he’s there he can start from a much stronger place than he previously did.

And there’s so much he’s still not facing - can you imagine the fallout when he has to deal with being an alcoholic?

Johnny as a character has made so many mistakes (note: I’m not a fan of using the word “fault” as a descriptor for characters (as in “whose fault is X”) because they’re fictional and it’s more about motivations than tracing faults) and those mistakes make a whole lot of sense to his character - a broke, drunk, traumatized guy with more failings under his belt than you can count.

I confess, I’m not sure how I feel about him not visiting Robby in juvie from a writing perspective, however it’s on the show, so now we get to analyse how it can make sense - which, considering that Johnny isn’t good at prioritising - and as an ADHD that’s a mood - it can totally work. Is it very bad? Yes. Does it sound like something Johnny would do when faced between an easy-fix of his relationship with the Diaz family and his much more difficult and complicated relationship with Robby? Sigh, yeah... unfortunately parenting Robby is the biggest fear he has... it’s not pretty, but it’s not meant to be...

4. Anyway, TL;DR

I’d have felt cheated if Johnny could just magically “become” better - both mentally and in his relationships to others. He’s made big mistakes, has a lot of unresolved mental health issues, and - ironically - has chosen flight over fight for so much of his life that “simply wanting to become better” being enough of a motivator to change all of that around would’ve been unrealistic for his character and unsatisfying for a longterm plot in which we see how difficult it is and (hopefully) get to revel in the continued upwards journey despite that.

Also it would’ve been kind of insulting to these journeys in real life (to do a little conflating for a moment).

Trying to make good is admirable, but it sure isn’t easy and it won’t always work, especially if you don’t know where to even start.

The joy of his story is in seeing someone continue to try despite that.

#johnny lawrence #cobra kai #robby keene #cobra kai meta #my writing #oh hey I wrote just straight-up meta without going halfway narrative about it #ramblerambleramble #i love characters who fuck up over and over again

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rainbowcarousels · 3 years

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I don't know how interesting this is going to be but I started to answer a comment on the latest JBSWM from @zanahoriabaila and realised I actually kind of want to talk more depth about the subject so I'm going to post it up here. Between talking a little about Genesis especially on twitter and briefly talking a couple of chapters ago about Sephiroth, it's kind of all been ruminating into something meta that borders on a directors commentary.

Again, how come your Genesis always spews all the stuff I think?

This is absolutely something I do with my version of Genesis on the regular and there's a few different reasons why he’s my character of choice for uncomfortable examinations of stuff.

Cut for discussion of fic, canon, trauma and interrelationships with everyone!

The first reason is the Eve symbolism that comes with Genesis as a character. There's a decent bit of it with Genesis (much like Aerith) when you consider his name, his limit break, his carrying around of the forbidden fruit and the look of the Goddess statue and in CC canon, he is the first person to tell Sephiroth about what Jenova is. As such, giving a lot of the harder hitting commentary to Genesis feels natural because he is good at weaponising knowledge.

It also makes more sense out of AGS to give it to him because of each of their interactions with how knowledge effects them. The revelation of the Jenova Project in general (I hope!) illustrated this pretty well in that Angeal takes in knowledge and then thinks about what he should say or do or feel about it and it impacts it greatly. Sephiroth takes in the knowledge and tries to analyse and categorise because exploring how he feels emotionally about something is really difficult for him and unless it's pertinent, he just doesn't address it in terms of how to feel about it. Genesis in contrast to both goes instantly to what he is feeling in the moment and it fuels his decisions and choices.

Angeal's issue comes when what he should feel and what he does feel are so at odds that he can't reasonably justify how he feels and he's been going through a lot of that since he doesn't want to think ill of his mother, he does not want to consider that his father might have lied to him and he absolutely does not want to think about Hollander at all. His sense of honour is wrapped up in family, in the idea that he pulled himself up to get where he is with hard work and determination and that he does make a positive difference and he's just...completely lost right now emotionally because he can't reconcile his feelings with what he thinks he should feel.

Sephiroth's comes when something is emotive and he can't pick it apart and make sense of it through physical and observable changes. I think this probably comes from spending his childhood as a lab specimen so he knows how to report things that are observable and that emotions are too subjective so he doesn't include them. Then getting thrust into war, he also learns to describe himself by a physical status report. Zack gives him one based on how he is physically because he knows this is how Sephiroth is. The problem for him and the reason he is as noted by the same comment so detached is because he just doesn't really process anything emotional in any significant way, which is why as noted in one of my much earlier chapters, he struggles with saying 'I love you' because it's pure emotion and he tries to show it in his own way instead.

Then you have Genesis who runs on his emotions and experiences like they're fuel. There's a throwaway line in Don't You Know My Name about how Genesis doesn't so much like or dislike things as he dismisses or obsesses over them and because of that, he has the nastiest tunnel vision and comes across as self centred. He likes to write his own narrative in a way that makes sense to him based on what information he has and how he feels about it. There's a line in the song from JBSWM's title song that says 'judgment made can never bend' and I think this is part of Genesis struggling more with Zack's inclusion into their relationship with Cloud because he formed his own opinions on Cloud and Zack is Angeal's little puppy he's been hearing about for years. It's hard to shift perspectives for him.

Zack and Cloud have their own relationships with truth and feelings but Gast is history for AGS. So onto Gast, because that the subject being discussed in the chapter. It's not something new, if I go by my own timeline, Genesis and Angeal have known since they were 15 about a decent chunk of what happened as Sephiroth's background and Angeal comes down hard on the 'respect what Sephiroth feels even if it's not entirely accurate because it's important to him' side and Genesis comes down on the 'This was bullshit and Sephiroth needs to know it was bullshit regardless of how attached he is to the memory of Gast because he needs to deal with it'.

Zack and Cloud are just forming their opinions and it'll happen over a few chapters, but Zack is far more emotion based but he also has rose coloured glasses and if there is an upside, he will find it. Cloud, growing up feeling angry and isolated and idolising Sephiroth, kind of has a similar way of coping as him in that he has this idea he can't be openly emotional or vulnerable because he'll get hurt but he also isn't about to pull any punches either. It should make for interesting interaction hopefully.

I think Sephiroth is more knowledgeable than he realises in that he quickly guesses from Genesis being willing to share that they are in the 'experimented on parents' club that this is colouring some of his interaction here. He backs down earlier when the subject comes up, not because he thinks he's wrong but he's not pushing that hard because as much as it comes from a place where he's sad and angry that this terrible thing happened to someone he loves, he can rationalise backing down because his feelings are second hand. Except now they're not. While Angeal and Sephiroth can look at their parents to some degree and assign some kind of blame (and Cloud can from being victimised), he can't because he doesn't know who his parents are or what the circumstances were but Gast was the head of the department when this crap went down so he is a prime target for someone to be furious at.

These guys spent their teenage years building coping mechanisms based on battlefield experience, it's probably not a surprise Sephiroth is practical and tries to funnel it into something productive, Angeal tries to find the honourable method of dealing with it in the way he's supposed to and Genesis just wants someone, anyone appropriate to unleash all of that emotion on. I'd also argue that Zack tries to apply it to being the best hero he can be even though he was doing a lot of pretty unhero-like things and Cloud was cannon fodder, it's no surprise his sense of worth is in the toilet and he can't really grasp the idea of being special.

Someone described JBSWM as five broken people trying to make each other whole and I don't think it's exactly right, but it is close. It's five people trying to figure out a way to live with a shit ton of trauma and a lot of it is trauma they're complicit in which is really difficult to work through given all time and resources let alone trying to deal with Shinra at the same time.

This kind of brings me back to why Genesis is often the pushing person in the relationship and why he's not always right to do it.

As horrible as the Project G revelations are, it's not the same as growing up in the way Sephiroth (and in some ways, Aerith) did and he has the coping mechanisms he has for good reasons. He needs to have this idea of Gast as this good person who tried to be good to him but died because the alternative is Gast wandered off the moment he wasn't as interesting anymore and left him (in JBSWM's timeline at around the age of 4) to try and survive it by himself. He's already lost this perfect idea of a mother by having the 'L' put there and all SOLDIERs having JENOVA on their files and he's kind of desperately clinging onto something good because he hasn't really thought about what a lot of it would look like to someone coming in now until Cloud started to ask about it and had enough first hand experience to know it was really messed up. He can justify it as Gast was the better scientist, the better man, the better influence for him but if you start taking that away, it puts him in the position of being victimised and abused and that's all there is and I don't think he knows how to even begin to process that. As @aimeelouart pointed out, if he thinks about it or talks about it with any perspective, he would have to acknowledge he is traumatised and a large part of his identity has been built on his own invincibility. How can he be traumatised if that’s so?

The flipside of it being that I don't think any of them understood fully in a conscious way what happened with Sephiroth’s childhood until they saw it up close and personal with Cloud and even if it's coming from Genesis (dude is loud), Angeal is also pissed off and furious that it's just as bad as they thought it might be but could never be sure because they've only ever seen the aftermath and he does not talk about it. Zack got it all in one, he heard about it and saw it and is trying to deal with that but for Genesis and Angeal, it's festered for a decade and since no one save for maybe Zack has ever met a single healthy coping mechanism, it goes out as Angeal being cautious and letting Sephiroth set his own pace and Genesis going no, this is important, you have to confront this because if it hurts them from just caring about him and realising how bad it was, if Sephiroth some day realises how awful it was, he's going to just...shatter or explode and they'll lose him and even if he struggles to express it sometimes, he does love him dearly and like with Cloud, he wants him to figure out what will make him happy and it doesn’t seem like he’ll feel happy until he can stop blocking out what he’s feeling on instinct as some leftover coping mechanism. Cloud having to deal with his own lab trauma just brings it to the forefront and Genesis is not wasting the opportunity.

The thing is I don't think he's wrong about it because I think Alien Demi-god Sephiroth and Sane Sephiroth are two sides of the exact same person. There's hints of it here and there, but I think one of the biggest ones is he's very possessive and it took Hojo crossing the line and almost killing Cloud when he was beginning to grow attached to him to get him to move out of his holding pattern. In a way, this can also be traced all the way back to Gast and the idea of his mother because it's this almost childlike view that when he's attached to someone, they leave and it hurts so the obvious answer is make it so they can't leave or in the case of canon, try to push them to come back. I genuinely do not think Jenova knew what they were getting themselves into with him because they were like 'hey I could be your mom' and got absolutely swallowed by someone who was hurting, desperate for connection and just So Fucking Done with all of it until his will overrode theirs and he was never, ever going to be alone again because the entire planet would be reborn as part of him.

Not the direction I'm going with JBSWM, they have some things they need to work on with each other but they are together and leaving Shinra was as close to a statement of commitment as you can get. With Midgar behind them and a chunk of their identity and dreams left with it, trying to face those uncomfortable truths will be hard for everyone and as much as Genesis puts it out there, he’ll struggle with his own too because if they have to deal with their shit, so does he.

#to say this got away from me is a gross understatement #i hope it makes a little sense #fic: just be still with me #fic related meta

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wrctings · 3 years

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Pre-serum Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes | Let your heart be light

fandom: Marvel Univers characters: Pre-serum Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes summary: Where Steve and his mom spend Christmas Eve’s at the Barnes’s, Bucky takes a nap and Steve draws him. word count: 1.7k

writing a christmas one shot in february isn’t too late, right? i missed 30s steve and buck so of course i had to write some fluff <3

New York City, Christmas 1935

When the two boys slid their shivering frames through the doorway, shaking off the snowflakes caught in their hair and coats as they took the latter off, the first thing to welcome them was the delicious waft of food which had enveloped the entire apartment, the perky jingling of cutlery that emanated from the kitchen accounting for the fact that an active cooking activity was indeed taking place in there. Their cheeks rosy from the piercing cold and their breath short from having spent the afternoon out in the snow, they untied their shoes, leaving them in the corridor, and proceeded to the living room, where the warmth radiating off the crackling fireplace eased the prickling of their skin at once.

“Mom, we’re back!” Bucky announced, heading for the kitchen, Steve in his wake. “How are you? It smells so good in here!”

“We were wondering when you boys would come back and give us a hand,” Mrs Barnes gave them a smile, shaking her head. “It’s all fine. We should always make joined Christmas dinners, it’s a lot less exhausting than doing it yourself for the whole family,” she added gratefully, glancing at Sarah, who nodded in approval.

“Are you okay darling?” The blond woman caringly asked Steve, who reassured her with a light-hearted nod.

“If there’s anything we can do, we’ll be glad to help,” he then assured voluntarily, earning an affectionate look from the two women.

“Actually, I have a feeling you’ll cause more trouble than anything…” One of Bucky’s sisters retorted humorously.

“That may not be wrong…,” the brunet boy conceded sheepishly, eyeing all the culinary supplies suspiciously.

“Maybe you could dress the table, how about that?” Mrs Barnes proposed an alternative. “It’s a little too early now, but we’ll call you when it’s the right time. For the time being, why don’t you go put some records on?”

“Sure!”

“Steve, stay close to the fireplace!” The other boy’s mom called after her son as Bucky and Steve took off, shaking her head fondly as the blond promised that she didn’t have to worry (although he had barely recovered from a cold). “Kids…” Sarah muttered, sharing a knowing glance with Winnifred, who could only chuckle. “But at least they look after one another.”

“Thank God,” the brunette woman laughed, rolling her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder whether that causes less or more trouble.”

Meanwhile, Steve and Bucky set to complete the task that they had been asked to undertake. Rummaging through the music collection of the Barnes with great care, Steve selected a record which Bucky then placed upon the turntable, sparking up the soft whirring of the record player while he was cautiously manipulating the needle. A few seconds later, the merry tune of a Christmas song erupted from the device, taking over the far-off clattering and voices coming from the kitchen with smooth notes of jazz that swirled through the room.

“There we go,” a satisfied smile played upon Bucky’s lips, the young man letting himself tumble on the nearby couch with a deep sigh. “I feel like I could take a nap just now…,” he breathed out, lazily stretching out his arms while letting his head fall backwards against the backrest.

“Tired already?” Steve raised a daring eyebrow, teasing his friend with his usual playfulness.

“Shut up,” without even looking, Bucky grabbed a pillow and threw it toward the other boy’s voice, but missed the target. “How the hell do you still have energy?”

“I don’t, I just pretend,” the blond actually confessed, shrugging as he laughed. He never had to play pretend with Bucky, who always accepted him the way he was, no matter whether he caught Steve on a painful day of suffering from sickness, had to come to his rescue in a fight or simply met with him to hang out. Plus, his best friend had seen him in dire straits one too many times to unnecessarily play tough. “Alright, you take a nap, I’ll get my sketchbook.”

“Wake me up if I happen to actually drift off,” Bucky mumbled, momentarily straightening up just so he could cuddle up to the cushion set in the corner where the armrest and the backrest formed an angle. Through half-closed eyelids, he noticed Steve taking a seat on the floor and flick through the pages of his sketchbook, the flames happily waltzing in the chimney behind him sending glimmering beams across the young man’s shirt and skin, their reflection playing in the golden strands of hair that brushed his forehead as he craned his neck, concentrated on his sketch.

Lulled by the gay rhythm of the music and the regular, soft sound of his friend’s pen scraping a piece of paper, Bucky feared that he in truth might just doze off, the both peaceful and jolly atmosphere of the room exacerbating his body’s will to rest. However, there was no way he was going to leave Steve alone on Christmas evening, especially since they spent it together this year, so Bucky fought sleepiness back by trying to keep his mind awake. Just a few minutes, he told himself, I’ll rest for a little bit, then I’ll be ready to celebrate.

Since the early December evening had already dawned, the room would’ve been bathed in darkness if not for the chirping chimney and the bright lights that had been turned on, making it easier for Bucky not to let his thoughts succumb to the strain of his body. He wondered whether his family would like the gifts he got them, but especially if Steve would — since Bucky had more money, he always tried to get his friend a present that he would be particularly fond of for Christmas, and he knew that Steve would also do his best to offer him something nice in return, though with more limited means. But most importantly, Bucky was merely glad and excited to spend the 24th of December surrounded by everyone he loved most, especially since Steve and his mother were joining them around the table this year. In the end, gifts mattered little.

“Why the hell didn’t you wake me up?” Running a hand over his face, Bucky groaned while blinking several times, struggling to adjust his clouded sight to the lighting of the living room. It turned out that keeping oneself awake was quite a difficult task, even when one might tell themselves that their lively thoughts would keep their distracted from the lure of slumber. “What time is it?”

“Don’t worry Buck, it’s only been fifteen minutes,” Steve reassured him distractedly, still hunched over his drawing. “It’s nearly seven.”

Pushing himself away from the armrest of the couch, Bucky’s fingers tangled in his hair as he tried to make it sit properly, pushing loose brown strands off his forehead. Only fifteen minutes, that was acceptable. He yawned into the back of his hand, stretching his back, then swung his legs onto the floor and bent forward, trying to get a glimpse of Steve’s doodles — his gaze landed on the outline of a sofa, on which he recognised his own silhouette.

“You know I’m gonna become famous too if you do, right? I’m your number one drawing reference, at this point.” He joked, but the soft glow of his eyes, from either remnants of sleepiness or fondness, made it seem like he was actually both touched and impressed.

“It’s not my fault if you fall asleep on my watch. What do you want me to do? For once, something stays still while I’m sketching, I gotta make most of it.”

It took Steve another few minutes to come to end of his sketch of a sleepy Bucky, fixing the shadows playing in the folds of his friend’s clothes as his pencil adroitly glided across the paper. Bucky, still towering over the blond, kept on watching him draw above Steve’s shoulder, having always been fasciated by the way his friend could so beautifully make images come to life out of nothingness — no matter how much the other boy would get frustrated over a doodle that he struggled with, Bucky knew that it would still be infinitely better than anything most people could come up with. Seeing the curves and edges of his own body forming such meticulous shapes under Steve’s fingertips, the brunet felt like he had caught his own self plunged in a slumber; as if time had turned back to just minutes ago, and he could witness his reflection laying on the couch.

“Alright.” After one last stroke of a pen, Steve held the sketchbook up, analysing the outcome. Bucky could tell that he wasn’t disappointed with the result as the young man put it back down, not getting another hold of his pencil either. “You’re not still sleepy, are you?” He then turned around to give Bucky a quick smile, emerging out of the state of concentration that had taken over him while he was drawing.

“No, I’m not. It’s time for celebration now!” His friend retorted energetically, alluding to the festive Christmas tree that had been set in a corner of the room, the few colourful decorations tangled up in its branches and the golden star at its top gleaming as light ricocheted off them.

With a brief glance at the window, Bucky noticed that the snowfall had grown even stronger, thick and fluffy snowflakes coating the entire street and delicate flowers of frost already starting to spring upon the panes, adorning them with whimsical motives.

“Boys!”

Before Steve and Bucky had time to do anything else, Mrs Barnes’s voice reached them from the kitchen, rising above the music that had continued playing.

“Boys, come and set the table!”

“On it!” Her son shouted back, not a single trouble weighing his heart down as the only think he could focus on was this special night, full of the joy and warmth of sharing it with all the people dearest to him. “Shall we?” He took a look at Steve, unable to suppress a wholesome smile that he just couldn’t contain. And he didn’t want to.

“We shall,” his friend agreed, smiling back. “First to get to the kitchen wins?” and, before Bucky could answer, the blond was off.

“Steve, you have asthma!” was all that Bucky could yell after him, laughing as he trailed behind, however catching up fast.

“But I’m winning!”

A very merry Christmas indeed.

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celestialmark · 4 years

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Lacuna - Part Four

- Characters: Johnny Suh x reader, members of nct - Category: single parent au, fluff, slight angst - Word count: 8.3k - Warnings: - - Navigation: prologue | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue - Author’s notes: oh would you look at that.. this isn’t the last part- I keep writing too much and clowning myself, sorry I know you’re tired of me sksksksk

Johnny tugs on his tie as he takes one last look at his reflection in the mirror one last time. Hair parted in the middle and fresh black tux adorning his figure, he inhales a deep breath before exiting the comfort of his home. He’s exhausted despite not having over exerted himself at work and he feels like a walking corpse traipsing aimlessly when he reaches his destination after a thirty minute drive. Everything was going well in his favour yet, nothing felt right.

“Johnny!” Johnny hears Doyoung call from across the corridor, surrounded by a number of his board members he remembers from previous meetings.

Johnny nods at him curtly before walking over, preparing himself for the events of the day. “Good morning.”

“What a fine day to be celebrating this event, gentlemen,” one of the men say beside Doyoung, a grin on his face and the white hairs indicating he’s been in the industry for a good while. Doyoung smiles beside him and Johnny plays along with another nod of his head.

It was a fine day indeed, the sun was shining, everyone seemed to be in good spirits and from where Johnny stands, he can see the majority of the people invited show up to this celebration. Everything seemed like it was going according plan, though, he didn’t feel great. A part of him wished to be anywhere but here considering how exhausted and unengaged he was, but that wasn’t possible. After all, he was the man of the event alongside Doyoung who had been at his wits end preparing for this day.

So Johnny does his best. He does his best at entertaining guests, at shaking people’s hands and giving them the most genuine smile he could muster. Even when the cameras are flashing away at him as he cuts the ends of the big red ribbon with Doyoung to celebrate the official partnership between their companies, all he could think of was going home. Johnny endures until the end though, his professionalism and years of training to converse with representatives of big names really keeping him afloat on what’s supposed to be a big day for him.

So when he no longer needs to put on a facade, he doesn’t even find himself going straight home. Instead, he finds himself in front of Ten’s house at eleven in the evening, a bag of random drinks he’s picked up on the way here. When Ten opens the door, he’s about to go on a rampage again, remembering how the last time Johnny did this got him into trouble with Taeyong and because who shows up randomly in the middle of the night on a Tuesday? But when he sees Johnny’s sunken features and tired eyes, he doesn't ask, just steps back to make way for Johnny to enter.

It only takes twenty minutes for Jaehyun and Taeyong to arrive after a quick text message from Ten. And when they arrive, Johnny has already downed two bottles of beer while Ten is on the corner watching him silently, brows knitted together and still trying to analyse the whole situation.

Taeyong and Jaehyun exchange weary glances with each other before taking a seat on either side of their friend while Ten finally joins beside Jaehyun. “Hey man, you should have told us we’d be getting wasted tonight. We could’ve brought more drinks,” Taeyong says in attempts to lighten the mood as he pops open a beer for himself.

Johnny breaks into a small smile, “I came uninvited. Sorry Ten.”

Ten shakes his head vigorously, “That’s okay. We needed this anyway.”

Jaehyun takes a big gulp of his beer before leaning forward to look at Johnny. “Everything okay John?”

Johnny studies the half empty bottle in his hand before he’s downing it until it’s empty. “Do you think I'm too late?” He suddenly asks, turning to his friends.

Taeyong blinks, “What do you mean?”

Johnny is reaching for another bottle again, “Y/n and Doyoung.”

Jaehyun tips his bottle over and takes a big gulp, suddenly feeling for his friend knowing how much he’s been pining for her even without speaking of it. Ten lowers his head, suddenly unable to meet Johnny’s eyes while Taeyong continues to blink into the distance. No one knew the answer and no one wanted to comfort Johnny with lies either.

Johnny sighs and skilfully uncaps his bottle with a nearby opener, taking another sip. “God, I wish I never left.”

Jaehyun claps a hand on his back, “Hey man, you did what you had to do.”

“At what cost?” Johnny asks grimly, shoulders drooping. “Losing y/n?”

“Have you talked to her about you two?” Ten questions.

Johnny shakes his head. “It doesn't matter. She’s made it clear.”

“What did she say?”

Johnny recalls the events at the hospital, remembering all too well just how transparent he had become about how he felt about you, in front of you and how you didn't even say anything in return.

“Nothing.”

“Hey, how’s Youngho doing?”

Doyoung is handing you bags of food on either of his hands just when you’ve put Youngho to sleep upstairs. You take them from him, setting them down just behind you by the doorframe.

“He’s doing really good. He’s excited to go back to school tomorrow,” you reply. “How was your ribbon cutting event today?”

“Great. There was a good turnout too, we didn’t expect that many press to show up,” Doyoung answers, his gummy smile coming to view.

You pull your robe closer to your body when the chill of the night hits you briefly. You’re trying to focus on what Doyoung is saying, but he’s arrived unannounced and you weren’t in the right headspace to entertain anyone. You know you should be grateful, you know you should, for having someone like Doyoung looking after not only you, but also your son.

But it felt like a burden more than anything else.

The silence hangs in the air and anyone can tell, even Doyoung, your mind is miles away. But when you snap out of it, after trying to remember what Doyoung had just said, you finally refocus, “Would you like to come in?”

Doyoung shakes his head, bringing his hands up in front of him, waving them both, “No no. It’s okay. You should go in and rest. I just wanted to drop by and see how you were doing.”

Were you up for a long conversation tonight? To address big things you haven’t even thought through yet? Most definitely not. But you definitely hated the feeling sitting on your chest, whatever it was.

“Doie—“

“Go in and rest, y/n. You must be tired.”

Maybe Doyoung didn’t want to hear it tonight.

You toss and turn in your bed, seemingly, no matter how tired and worn out you felt, you couldn’t bring yourself to fall into unconsciousness. You’re staring straight at the illuminated ceiling, the streams of light from the moon peeking through the curtains of your room after having given up on trying to find the most comfortable position that could hopefully lull you to sleep.

Your body was tired but your mind was still running. And though there was only one thing, one person, on your mind, your thoughts were haywire. Johnny hasn’t left your mind since the night at the hospital, hell, you haven’t stopped thinking about him for the past five long years. And no matter how many times you’ve recounted his words, his sentences ringing in your ears like a broken record, somehow you still couldn’t make sense of it. Because when you tried to comprehend, other things always seem to pop in your mind that succeeds in clouding everything else that you’re supposed to confront with yourself.

One thing you do know is that you were, without a doubt, making this way more difficult for yourself than you had initially intended.

It’s one in the morning when you hear knocks on your door downstairs, the stillness of your house momentarily interrupted, and if you hadn’t been widely awake at such at ungodly hour, you would for sure have missed it. You’re quick to leave your bed, grabbing your dressing gown for the second time and slipping yourself in it. When you descend the stairs, you see a familiar silhouette outside your glass door.

“Jaehyun?”

You slide the door open and true enough, Jaehyun was there, slightly trembling with the cold. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey y/n,” Jaehyun greets with a small smile. You pull him inside your home when he trembles again and that’s when you notice the taxi parked outside your gates. “Sorry for disturbing you. You weren’t picking up your phone. Did I wake you? I didn’t wanna ring the doorbell in case I woke Youngho.”

Sliding the door closed and turning to him, you lightly get a whiff of alcohol on him. “Sorry, my phone’s been off the whole day, and no, I couldn’t sleep,” you take a step closer, lean forward into him and inhale his scent, “Have you been drinking?”

Jaehyun smiles bashfully, his dimples appearing under the light from the bulb above and eyes disappearing. “Just a little.”

You roll your eyes and take a step back again. “Why are you here? Are you lost?”

“Oh, right,” Jaehyun says, coming back to his senses. “You have to go to Ten’s right now.”

“What why?”

Jaehyun catches his lower lip between his teeth, silently contemplating on how to tell you. “Johnny’s there. He’s drunk. And he’s looking for you.”

Your eyes widen, “Johnny?”

“Listen y/n,” Jaehyun grabs a hold of your arms. “We don’t know what’s happening between you two and we know we’re not in any place to get in your way, but the things Johnny has been saying... I think you should go and hear him out.”

You raise a brow, the image of a drunk Johnny circulating in your head. “Jae, he’s drunk. Whatever it is he’s saying, it probably isn’t true.”

You feel Jaehyun’s grip on you tighten slightly, his eyes pleading. “Y/n please... He’s a wreck and he’s desperately looking for you.” You glance upstairs when you entertain the idea of seeing Johnny and Jaehyun doesn’t miss it. “I’ll look after Youngho. Take my taxi and go.”

So that’s how you find yourself in a taxi after changing your clothes in a rush, your heart now hammering against your chest. You feel the nerves creeping up on you, scenarios and possibilities of what Johnny might have been saying tonight resonating in your thoughts. An unsettling feeling settles on your chest then, remembering the fact that although Johnny did drink, your memories of him from before resurfacing, it was never to a point where he’d get drunk. And the fact that neither Jaehyun, Ten or Taeyong could stop him from getting wasted, spoke millions.

Ten greets you when you arrive, a weary glint in his eyes that’s hard to miss. You see Taeyong, tending to an almost passed out Johnny by the dining table at the end of the corridor. Taeyong immediately stands from his seat when he sees you, his features screaming worry and his eyes expressing sorrow. He pats Johnny’s back once and exits the room without saying anything, leaving you and Johnny alone by yourselves.

Your heart aches at the sight, Johnny’s hair tousled and messy, his tie loose around his neck and his dress shirt coming untucked. He’s leaning his head against his arm on the table, his eyes closed but opens when he hears the chair being pulled out from the table beside him. He watches you with hazy eyes as you sit down in front of him and when his mind registers who you are, he lifts his head off the table and smiles.

“Y/n, you’re here,” he states, swaying a little in his seat when he moves too fast. He blinks hard twice and readjusts his vision on you after every one, “You’re really here.”

There’s something so heartbreaking about the way Johnny’s reiterating his words, as if your presence really baffled him. “I’m, I’m here,” you squeak, almost choking on your words because this was the very first time you’ve ever seen him in such a state. By the looks of it, he was definitely having a hard time.

He reaches for your hands and holds them, running this thumbs across your skin and inspecting them with hooded eyes, “You really are. You’re.. real.”

Johnny’s hands are cold. And it’s weird. Because they were always warm.

“Johnny, what’s wrong?”

Johnny smiles again, his eyes closing for long periods before he can open them. He reeks of alcohol and even though you can’t stand the smell, you push past that because more than anything, Johnny needed someone right now.

You’re clutching tight onto his hands when you help him sit straight, his head occasionally falling back every now and again and it makes his body follow involuntarily. You stand from your seat when holding onto his hands can no longer keep him upright, your hands opting to hold him by the shoulder instead.

“Johnny.. please talk to me.”

That’s when Johnny envelopes your waist with his arms, pulling you closer until his face can rest against your abdomen. He holds you firm, afraid that if he didn’t, you’d disappear into thin air. Your arms hang in the air for a second or two that passes, lowering your head to look down at him and wishing you didn’t because you catch a glimpse of a pained expression on his face. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding him in return in a way that you hoped he wanted to be held.

“Everything.. everything is wrong y/n.”

You run your fingers through his tresses and wait for him to continue, your muscles loosening at his touch. You already feel like you’re about to cry because it takes a lot of Johnny, a whole lot, to break like this.

“I shouldn’t have left.. I shouldn’t have left you,” Johnny mumbles, but loud enough for you to hear. “I wish I didn’t. God, I really wish I didn’t. I still.. regret it to this day and I know I forever will.”

And it hurts. It still hurts like it was just yesterday, the sting in your chest still so powerful it leaves a sour taste in your mouth. Because deep inside, you would have wished the exact same thing. You’ve always been the stronger one between the two of you, but how long can a person continue to put up a brave front?

You embrace Johnny tighter, resting your cheek on the top of his head, trying your best not to cry in front of him again. Johnny tightens his hold around you, burying his face into your body. “I’m so sorry,” his words get muffled into your sweater, his uneven breathing giving him away. He’s the first to cry tonight and you know it’s not going to take long for your tears to follow.

“John.. no..”

“Those five years were the most miserable y/n. Because I didn’t have you,” Johnny confesses. “I missed you every single day I couldn’t think straight, it hurt so much.”

You feel your first tear fall, your heart breaking simultaneously at everything Johnny’s saying because he’s taken the words right off your mouth, only realising now how they seem to describe how you really feel after repressing your longing for him for so long. But you think it’s nothing compared to how Johnny feels because at least for you, you had Youngho who eased everything that hurt, at least for you, you had a piece of Johnny every single day. For Johnny, it was a completely different story.

Johnny pulls away from your body and tilts his head upwards to look at you, his tear-stricken face and swollen eyes coming to view. He smiles helplessly when he realises you’re crying too, using his thumbs to rub either sides of your hips. You break into a pained smile not long after, bringing your hands to cup his face and wipe his tears away.

“How different things would be if I had stayed.”

You give him a sad smile as he traces your face with his finger, catching a tear that falls. “Hey, but you’re here now. That’s all that matters.” And you mean it. Because it was really all that mattered. Deep down, you knew you were happy more than anyone to have Johnny around again.

You see his eyes light up for the first time tonight, the corners of his lips lifting ever so slightly. His glossy eyes peer into yours under the fluorescent light and you feel yourself getting lost in them like you always did in the past. There’s so much in them. And you realise that no matter how many times you try to reassure him tonight, the sorrow that resurfaces in his eyes convinces you it wouldn’t be enough.

He takes his eyes off you, lowering his head again to rest his temple against your abdomen, hugging you by the waist even tighter than before.

“God, I missed you so much y/n..”

“Mommy?”

“Yes baby?”

Youngho’s hair is wet, droplets of water falling down the sides of his face just as you begin to dry his hair with a towel after wrapping his body in a bigger one post his bath.

Youngho’s eyes are inquiring and he looks conflicted with the way silence follows afterwards. You halt the ministrations of your hands and let the towel rest on his shoulders as you look him in the eye. “What is it, hm?”

Your son drops his gaze to the floor, “Does.. daddy not like me anymore?”

You frown. “What? What makes you think that?”

“He hasn’t come to visit me for the past few days,” Youngho admits, looking back up at you. “Did I do something wrong?”

Your chest tightens when you see the dilemma and confusion on his face and feel partly responsible for him to be assuming those things. Things with you and Johnny haven’t been great and you begin to wonder if your situation with him had anything to do with his less frequent visits.

“Baby of course not,” you reassure him because you knew deep down, Johnny would never be someone to do what your thoughts had begun to guess. You give Youngho’s shoulders a squeeze, “Daddy’s just busy with work, that’s all. Remember what I told you? He has a lot of meetings and a lot of people to talk to, he’s just caught up with those.”

Youngho’s eyes are still sad and in him you see a child longing for his dad. “Okay.”

“Come here,” you say before you’re pulling him in for a hug because no matter how hard you tried to fill all the voids in his life, he was always going to look for his dad. You squeeze him tight when you think back to the past four years, how much must he have wanted his real dad even without telling you or hinting anything at you.

“I miss him,” Youngho mumbles into your shoulder.

You sigh and rub his back up and down,

“Me too baby. Me too.”

You feel Youngho leaning away from you and you let go of him then, a new glint in his eyes when he looks at you. “You do?”

You blink for a second, recalling what you said and when it dawns on you what you admitted, your eyes widen. But Youngho is staring at you with inquisitive eyes and even when you know he’s going to be asking more questions in the minutes that will follow, there’s a comforting feeling settling on your chest when you realise that with your son, there really wasn't any reason for you to hide anymore.

“I do,” you smile and find new courage to tell him more. “For the past five years.”

You manage to convince Youngho into changing out of his towel and into his pyjamas for the night before you can answer all his burning questions. You watch him in awe when he moves around his room so fast, quickly changing into his pyjamas without even your help or guidance before literally jumping on his bed and under his covers, staring up at you by the doorway in pure anticipation. How long has your child been wanting to ask these questions?

But you smile anyways and join him on the bed not too long after. “I guess we’re not reading a book tonight?”

Youngho shakes his head adamantly, his dry hair moving along. “No mommy.” He scoots closer to you until he’s pressed up against your body so that you can cradle him in your arms. “Could you tell me more about you and daddy?”

Never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined having this conversation with your son so soon. But you also knew it was going to happen sooner or later. You smile at Youngho fondly before he’s resting his head on your chest, settling in a comfortable position, recalling all the memories of Johnny you retained, wanting nothing more but to relieve the remnants of how you remember him to be.

“Your daddy and I, we met when we were both in university. He was studying business and while I was studying childhood education. That’s where I met your uncles too,” the smile on your face grows wider when you recall your university days and how much more easier life had been back then. “Mommy was at the library and I couldn't reach this book because it was on the top shelf.. Your daddy happened to be walking past and since he’s taller than me, he got the book for me.”

“Daddy must have liked you straight away,” Youngho pipes up, looking up at you briefly. “Mommy’s the prettiest ever.”

You laugh and pinch his cheek, a cheeky grin appearing on his face. “Well, at first I didn’t like him very much. There were rumours going around that he was a ladies’ man but he tried really hard to win mommy’s heart over. Then we started seeing each other a lot more often after that. Turns out your daddy’s been wanting to get to know me after finding out I was friends with your uncle Yong.”

“I knew it,” Youngho chimes. “Daddy couldn’t resist you. He had a lot of competition didn’t he?”

You laugh again, amused at how highly your son thinks of you. “Well, there was one other guy. But it didn’t matter then because mommy already made up her mind. Your daddy won me over in the end.”

Memories of your time with Johnny flash before your eyes and before you know it, the silence drags on as the atmosphere turns somber. Youngho is unsure of what to ask next and you don’t know if you should continue sharing because all you remember next is the image of Johnny leaving.

“Mommy,” Youngho is the first to break the silence, making you blink your way back to reality. “You told me before Daddy didn’t know you were having me. Did.. you keep it a secret from him?”

You press your lips together in a thin line, morphing your words together in your head in a way that you hope won’t upset your son. “You see, your dad was set to leave for the States after university. Daddy had things to do there from the very start and him leaving was always part of the plan.. I didn’t know I was having you until after he left. And I,” you pause, holding Youngho a little tighter. “I didn’t have the heart to tell him because he wouldn’t have chased after his dreams if I did.”

You draw in a breath as Youngho stays still in your embrace. “I’m sorry baby. I kept him from you for so long.”

Youngho stays silent and you’re suddenly questioning your competency as a mother all over again. The guilt is stronger than ever today, more so that you’re explaining it to your son. It is isn’t until you feel Youngho hug you tighter, burying his head into your chest.

“It’s okay mommy,” you hear him say. “I had you and that was enough.”

You must have saved an entire country in your past life to have been rewarded with Youngho in this one.

“How did I get so lucky to have you,” you find yourself saying, your heart warm and your soul convinced you were born spend the rest of your life loving Youngho. “You’re the best Youngho, I hope you know that.”

Youngho pulls back from your embrace, his smiling face coming into view, his features the exact replica of Johnny’s. You can’t help but smile. Back in the days, when missing Johnny got too much, you always found comfort in knowing you had a part of him with you everyday, and in the best form yet. “Youngho, can I ask you something?”

“Mommy you just did,” Youngho teases with a grin, earning a bigger smile from you. “Of course.”

“What do you think.. of your dad?”

Youngho pouts his lips in deep thought, as if calculating his words to say the right ones in front of you. “I think he’s really fun! He’s really good at remembering what I like and buys me food. He’s really funny too, mommy.”

Sounds about Johnny alright.

“Hey, fun fact. Did you know mommy named you after him?” You reveal, his eyes growing wide and mouth hanging open. “Youngho is his birth name and I knew I had to name you that. You look like each other so much.”

Youngho smiles, the discovery of the origin of his name making him like it even more. “Mommy, I really like him,” he confesses, eyes soft and voice genuine. “And I like it even more that he’s my dad.”

You smile softly, all your previous worries coming to rest without knowing all it took was for Youngho to say everything he just did.

“Me too baby. Me too.”

“Stocks have steadily risen ever since our partnership with Kim Interiors,” the head of marketing points out as a slide consisting of graphs appear on the screen at the top of the board meeting room. “Kim Interiors experienced a huge rise in sales over the past month.”

Johnny trains his eyes up ahead at the screen, simultaneously paying attention to the presentation and reading the exact figures on the pages of the folder provided for him prior to the commencement of the meeting. Sure enough, Suh Industries has experienced one if its greatest profits in so many months.

“Will we be expecting further rise or is this the peak that we’re going to get in terms of Kim Interiors?” Johnny’s voice is loud and clear as it travels through the whole room. His eyes are hard, a neutral expression on his face and his chilling voice along with his stare makes the head of marketing flinch a little from where he stands at the top of the room. “We can’t be complacent just because we’ve gained this much. It’s only been a month. Surely, we can do a little better?”

From the corner of Johnny’s eyes, he sees the board members nod along with him, all who were much older than he was and way more experienced in this field given their years of expertise. The head of marketing clears his throat lowly before replying, “We’re expecting a steady rise over the next coming months. We believe we’re not at our peak yet.”

“Yeah?” Johnny challenges, bringing both of his arms to rest on the table, clasping his hands together. “You’re sure about that?”

“Yes Mr. Suh.”

“And what are you doing to ensure that?” Johnny presses, facial expression unchanging, yet his voice sending chills down the presenter’s spine. “What is Suh Industries doing to make sure we prevent a loss in the future?”

The marketing head straightens his back, “Kim Interiors are expected to release their Autumn designs soon. It’s hugely anticipated by the public and their products are promising.”

Johnny shakes his head, retracting his arms front the table so that he can cross them against his chest as he leans back on is swivel chair. “That’s not answering my question,” he points out. “My question was, what are we doing to make sure we get as much as we can from this partnership?”

All eyes of the board members shift from Johnny to the marketing head who’s as pale as a ghost by now, the words getting caught at his throat. When Johnny hears no answer, the silence speaking too loudly for itself, he tips his head forward at the man who’s now become the centre of everyone’s attention. He diverts his eyes back to his folder and flips it to the next page.

“Right. I need a presentation on that. That needs more work, it’s not good enough. Come up with proposals with your team and liaise with Kim Interiors also. Talk to me again then.”

“Yes Mr. Suh.”

It takes another two hours before the meeting finally ends, praises and compliments coming Johnny’s way for being so meticulous and firm with what the company needs. He’s the last to leave the board meeting room, releasing a sigh when he makes it out of the double doors. He was starting to feel a headache coming on and he makes a mental reminder to take something for it later. He’s greeted by his secretary some time after just when he’s a few steps away from the board room.

“Mr Suh, someone is waiting for you downstairs by the lobby,” he says, a folder in his hand.

Johnny raises a brow and racks his brain for any expected visitors to which no one comes to mind. “Are they scheduled?”

The secretary shakes his head, “No. But she insists on seeing you.”

“She?”

“Y/n, she said was her name. She said you know her?”

Johnny’s expression softens for the first time in the day when he hears your name, his heart dropping, remembering the last time he had seen you was at Ten’s house. “Alright. Thanks,” he excuses himself and heads straight for the elevators.

You didn't even have to turn around for him to spot you straight away in the lobby, various people passing by here and there. You’re by the window, staring out of it in pure curiosity, probably because it’s your first time visiting the place. He inhales a breath, unprepared for you sudden visit, already practicing what to say in his head before gathering the courage to walk up to you.

“Y/n?”

You turn around to see Johnny, perfectly suited up, looking extremely good with his hair pushed back, the night of the gala suddenly reminding you of this exact moment. You were sure if you had stared any longer, he would’ve knocked the air out of your lungs.

“Johnny, hi.”

You silently wince when Johnny doesn’t smile at you, his demeanour off and unusual, too rigid and eyes too focused on nothing. “What brings you here?” he asks without much interest, almost sounding as if you were wasting his time.

“I- I was um,” you gulp when you feel his cold stare, your throat running dry because this was not the Johnny you knew. ��You weren’t answering my calls and Youngho’s been asking me about you.”

Even at the mention of Youngho, Johnny doesn't bat an eyelash. “Sorry. I’ve been busy with work.”

You nod understandingly, “Right. That’s what I’ve been telling him.”

“I’ll visit him soon, please tell him that.”

“I will.”

You watch as Johnny glances at his wristwatch impatiently and you’re suddenly feeling apologetic for coming here and wasting his time to tell him just that. But you knew you had to see him today, your guts screaming at you to see him because it was unlikely of him to miss your calls and most importantly, unlikely of him to stop visiting Youngho.

Did.. he change his mind about wanting to be Youngho’s dad?

Or did this have something to do with that drunken night?

“I have a meeting in five minutes,” Johnny lies as he drops his arm to his side again. “Is that all?”

“Johnny about that night--”

Johnny doesn’t even flinch, “I was drunk y/n. Please don’t mind what I said. I didn’t mean any of it, whatever they were.”

“Oh.” This conversation was much more painful that you had originally anticipated and you know Johnny isn't lying with the way he’s staring at you coldly. “Right.”

Johnny nods once, “I’m gonna go. I’ll see you when I see you.” He’s about to turn on his heels when you stop him again.

“Johnny wait,” you say, feeling horrible for stretching his time with you when you know he’d prefer to be anywhere else than here. “Youngho’s school is holding a family day next week and he was wondering if you could go. But if you can’t that’s okay.”

Johnny blinks and contemplates and it takes him a good few seconds to answer even when he already knows what he’s going to say.

“I’ll be there.”

You nod, slightly relieved but the weight on your chest never dissipating. Johnny leaves then, turning his back on you to retreat to where he had originally come from, the paper bag in your hand containing what was supposed to be lunch prepared for him, never reaching its owner. Did you dream everything that had happened the past couple of weeks? What he said at the hospital? What he said when he was drunk? Were none of those true? Because you find yourself wishing so badly they all real so that you could finally come clean about how you felt about him.

Guess none of it was real.

Your phone in your pocket rings and that’s the only thing that makes you tear your eyes away from Johnny’s retreating figure.

“Doie?” you say as soon as you pick up the call.

“Hey y/n, where are you? I was thinking we could have lunch together if you were free,” he replies over the line.

You look down at the bag in your hand, the contents of it growing cold. “That would be great, I was getting hungry myself.”

“Great, send me your location, I’ll come pick you up.”

“Okay Doie. Thanks, I’ll see you in a bit.”

Unknown to you, Johnny hears the name that leaves your lips and wishes so badly he hadn’t heard anything because not only was he already having a hard time doing what he just did to you, but now he was suffering with the thought of you with someone else.

But he’s convinced he’s definitely made the right decision.

You could get used to a sight like this, Youngho up on Johnny’s shoulders and the two laughing about something Johnny had probably said. Youngho has the biggest smile on this face and Johnny... he’s a complete different to when you saw him last, the smile reaching his eyes as he looks up at Youngho above him who’s just called him “daddy”.

There are already numerous parents with their children outside Youngho’s school when you arrive, the doors beginning to open just in time you set foot on the premises, the crowd of people slowly piling inside one family to the next. You’re silent the whole way here, letting Youngho interact with is dad freely, unsure of how to address Johnny after the outcome of your last encounter. And you didn’t mind, you were here for Youngho and making Youngho happy is always the top priority.

The halls of Youngho’s school is decorated with pictures of families and just before the programme for the day starts, you stumble upon his poster, his name written on the top and you take in the various pictures pasted on his poster. Youngho is long gone after having run off with his friends earlier, mentioning something about last preparations for the surprise they’ve prepared for their parents. So you’re left with Johnny, who's studying the poster in the same manner you were.

On the poster, there’s baby pictures of Youngho, one for every year of his existence, followed with a bunch of pictures with you throughout the years that have passed. A memory comes to mind with every photo and you can’t help but smile when you realise how you both are always grinning widely at the camera. And then you come across the last photo at the bottom of Youngho’s picture, one you had forgotten existed.

It’s a picture of you and Johnny standing right beside each other, you smiling bashfully at the camera, holding a bouquet of flowers he had randomly given you on a random day. Johnny on the other hand, isn’t staring into the camera just as the photo’s taken, but at you, a crooked smile on his face with eyes so gentle you could feel his affection radiating from it. You swallow thickly, thinking back to all the times Johnny’s stared at you like that, remembering how loved you felt through his gazes alone.

Johnny thinks it’s a pity that there isn’t a photo of the three of you together, but silently coos at the picture of him with you, knowing all too well how in love he was with you from the way he chose to stare at you rather than posing for the photo. But what catches his eye the most is the picture situated just at the right of the centre picture. It’s a picture of you with baby Youngho in your arms, the date on the corner indicating it was taken just months after you had given birth. Youngho’s sleeping in your arms, almost hidden in the blanket he was wrapped in and you’re gazing at him fondly, your gentle smile the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Your love for Youngho in that picture is so evident, so obvious, and he knows that because that’s exactly how he’s gazing at you now when he takes his eyes off the picture to look at you.

“He’s grown up so much. Where did the time go?” you mumble to yourself, a recent picture of Youngho in the centre of the poster.

Johnny smiles and looks away before you catch him staring. “You did such a good job of raising him.”

Your eyes widen, head snapping towards Johnny at the first words he’s ever spoken to you for the day. You’re about to say something when Youngho’s teacher calls everyone to gather at the main hall at the end of the corridor. Johnny avoids your gaze and walks ahead, finding it all too hard to take responsibility of his decision when you’re beside him like this. He wonders how many times he’s going to be tempted to crack today and just abandon his plan altogether.

Youngho is waving at you and Johnny from the stage when you both take your seats. Youngho’s grin doesn’t leave his face all throughout the whole song they perform, his little movements matching with everyone else. You find it endearing that Johnny doesn’t stop filming his son even when the song finishes some three minutes after, a proud smile on his face and an occasional chuckle when Youngho does something adorable, which happens every five seconds or so. Your insides feel warm and fuzzy because this has always been how you imagined your own family to be.

And with Johnny and Youngho, it could’ve been perfect.

“My baby you did so well!” You murmur when Youngho comes running off the stage a while later and into your arms. “Great job! I’m so proud of you!”

Youngho giggles, “Thanks mommy.” He lets go of you then and proceeds to go to Johnny who's standing right behind you, witnessing the whole thing in silence. “Did you like it daddy?”

“Are you kidding me? I loved it!” Johnny exclaims, sharing a high five with Youngho. “You did so good! Where did you learn those cool moves from?”

Youngho grins, his cheeks rounding with how wide he’s smiling. “Mommy helped a lot.”

Johnny nods, “Mommy’s the best dancer we know so it’s only expected you’d be the best out of everyone here.”

You catch Johnny winking at Youngho who only nods in approval proudly. You’re not sure what to make of the situation, you’re just happy Youngho’s having a good time.

Over lunch, Youngho is sitting in between you and Johnny, the two of them talking about the game they had played earlier with other kids in his class as you fall in conversation with the familiar parents seated in the same table as you. You don’t miss the way they glance at Johnny, seeing him for the first time ever, maybe even wondering who he might be after only ever seeing you play Youngho’s guardian. You know they want to ask but you also appreciate the way they don’t, choosing to be polite more than anything else because if you were honest, you wouldn’t be sure how to answer them, especially since he'd be there to hear it too.

You almost forget how observant of a person Johnny is. He raises his voice a little louder for the people around the table to hear, “My son eats so well! Look at you, you’ve wiped the entire plate clean!” And you don’t even miss the way he puts emphasis on the word “son”, eyes of parents all over the table as round as saucers. And as if that wasn’t enough, Johnny makes a painfully obvious gesture of unwrapping a sandwich and standing from his seat slightly so that he can hand it to you behind Youngho who munches away at his last mouthful of food.

“Eat lots babe, we gotta win those games later,” he winks as you gawk at him, taking the sandwich from him so that he can sit down again. Your heart picks up its pace at the old term of endearment, the word ringing in your head for having heard of it after so long.

Not only did his statement and antics leave the parents speechless, it also made you at a loss for words.

The afternoon rolls in and you’re laughing as you watch parents play games of all sorts back in the main hall, their children cheering them on by the sidelines, eager for them to win just to take home prizes of buckets of sweets and chocolates. When the announcement of a three legged race is made, Youngho pushes you and Johnny to participate, literally tugging at your hands and pulling you both up from your seats.

You’re not sure why the unsure look on Johnny’s face saddens you, knowing all too well what he had said earlier was just for show just to make the parents stop gawking at the two of you over lunch. Maybe because a part of you had hoped it wasn’t for show.

You find yourself standing in line with a bunch of other parents beside Johnny with an overly excited Youngho cheering by the side way before the game starts. You stand there awkwardly, the finish line ahead looking too bleak, especially when you weren’t exactly on speaking terms with Johnny. When Youngho’s teacher hands Johnny the rope, he’s quick to bend to the ground, but not before lining his right foot with your left. It doesn't take long for him to finish tying a knot, standing right back up. All of a sudden you feel him too close to you, his body gently pressed up against yours, his right arm clumsily hanging in the air, not knowing where to put it.

You blink rapidly, the countdown to the start of the game starting. All you could see was the finish line ahead, refusing to look anywhere else. And you bolt it when the whistle blows, dragging Johnny with you in such an uncoordinated way with an absence of a game plan. But you keep going anyways, the sudden desire to win taking over you when you pass by Youngho who’s screaming at this point.

You’re sure your face is about to collide with the floor when your clumsy steps don’t match with Johnny’s, stumbling on your own foot if not for Johnny’s fast reflexes that prompt his strong arms to prevent you from falling, steadying you firmly as he works away in matching his steps with yours. With Johnny this close and the new position proving to be so much more comfortable and convenient for you, the two of you speed up, overtaking the leading couples, the adrenaline rush pushing you two to win in the end.

So caught up in the moment, you and Johnny celebrate in glee, hugging each other in the process, too excited about the win you just achieved. It doesn't last long though, the realisation catching up too quick, you immediately let go of him and step away from him, completely forgetting about your foot being tied to his. So you fall backwards and Johnny catches you for a second time in a short span of just two minutes.

“Hey, careful,” he murmurs, letting go of your waist and crouching down to finally free your foot from his. “Good job,” he says with a small smile when he’s done. “We got sweets for Youngho.”

You smile as you regain your composure, tugging at your clothes, “Y-yeah. He’s gonna be so happy.”

When the day comes to an end, Youngho has fallen asleep on the way home. Johnny’s carrying him out of his car just as you’re fishing for your keys inside your bag. Johnny catches up to you in time you’re sliding the front door open. You gesture for him to enter first and you’re slightly nervous at the thought of maybe finally having a conversation with him tonight. You needed to know what the hell was going on between you two.

“Y/n?”

There goes your plans out the window.

You and Johnny turn your heads and sure enough, you find Doyoung there, walking up the driveway. You look back at Johnny and you just about catch him looking away and proceed to entering your house, heading for the stairs to put Youngho into bed.

“Doie, what brings you here?” you ask in one breath but your attention is on the man inside the house, praying and hoping he doesn’t think much of what he had just seen.

Doyoung stuff his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shrugs his shoulders. “I just needed to see you, but it seems like I came at a bad time,” he says, catching a glimpse of Johnny and seeing his car parked outside your gate upon his arrival.

You sigh, already knowing where this conversation was headed. “Listen Doie, we need to talk.”

Doyoung nods and even though he knows what you’re going to say, he acknowledges your suggestion. “Yeah, we do.”

You gaze at him apologetically, “I’m really sorry. This isn’t going to work out.”

Doyoung smiles sadly and nods again, “I know. But hey, at least I tried right?”

“Oh, Doie,” you sigh helplessly, the guilt too strong remembering how hard he had tried over the past few weeks. “I’m really really sorry.”

Doyoung shakes his head, “Please don’t be. It’s not your fault.” But you feel like it is. “I was the stupid enough to ask you for a chance even when I knew nothing could change your mind.”

Your shoulders slump as silence fills the air, the thought of losing Doyoung as a friend not sitting well with you.

Doyoung kicks at the ground lightly, “So... it’s still him isn’t it?”

You lift your head from the ground and see Doyoung smiling at you gently, nodding at your house. “Johnny.”

You ponder over his question and loathe yourself even more, wondering just why it had to take breaking Doyoung’s heart for you to realise who yours wanted. You bury your face into the palms of your hands, feeling stupid for having come to this conclusion at such an occasion.

You choose Johnny. It’s always been Johnny.

“Oh God-” you mumble into your palms. But you look up at Doyoung when you’ve collected yourself. “Y-yeah.. It’s still Johnny.”

You see him smile but it breaks your heart because it’s a painful one. “I was competing against your first love.. I knew I was never going to win but I went ahead anyway.” He chuckles and ducks his head low, rubbing the nape of his neck. “How stupid of me.”

“Right, well, I should go,” he says.

You take a step towards Doyoung and pull him in for an embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry Doie. But please know that I appreciate you so much. and everything you’ve done for me and Youngho.”

You feel Doyoung circle his arms around your waist, hugging you tight, burying his head into your shoulder. He doesn’t speak and you allow him to hug you for as long as he needs. But at the same time, you’re quick to pull away from him when you hear the door slide behind you. The two of you catch Johnny by the doorway, staring back at you both.

Doyoung takes this as his cue to leave. “I’ll see you around y/n.” He nods at Johnny from where he stands before he’s turning around to leave.

When Doyoung is out of sight, his car revving into the distance, Johnny steps out of your house. “Youngho’s in bed.”

You nod, “Thanks.”

“I’ll get going too,” he says, his jaw taught and eyes trained at anywhere but you. “Thanks for today.”

He’s already walking past you even before you can reply and you’re reaching for his arm before you even know it just so he could even just spare a quick glance at you.

“Johnny can we please talk-” you plead when you succeed in making him stop in his tracks. “I don’t like this, whatever’s going on between us. What you saw, please let me explain.”

Johnny peels your hand off his arm gently and smiles a small one, “It’s okay, you don’t need to explain. I totally get it.”

You frown at him confusedly, nothing of what he’s saying making any sense.

Johnny bites at his lower lip before he speaks again.

“You’ve made your decision, and I've made mine.”

334 notes · View notes

offtopicoverload · 3 years

Note

Howdy there!! Who are the li’s you fancy the most from LITG??

hi! thanks for the ask!

i honestly dunno who’s my top answer, cuz they’re all interesting in their own way

I’m only going to talk about female LIs cuz the only male routes I’ve finished are Bobby and Jake, and I tapped through most of Jake and only ended with Bobby on my first run cuz I never unlocked Marisol, so I’m not the best source lol

Talia:

She’s just so chill but has no problem standing up for MC, she has her back no matter what

Which, like, what a queen

She’s the original and only one of 4 LIs, which maybe it’s just me, but for a game based on an incredibly heteronormative reality show, allowing representation for queer audiences from launch is such a big deal and so cool to me, so Talia’s kind of special in my mind

She was also my first LI so nostalgia points

And she’s such an easy LI, not much drama on her route outside of Lucy, just her having MC’s back as the boys make themselves look like idiots

And she has so much potential, like I know some people think her only personality trait is fancying MC, which I mean, is a little fair, but there’s so many opportunities for her in fics and headcanons to develop the good amount of information we got on her in 13 days

I absolutely love how self-aware and confident she is

She just went for what she wanted, struggled a bit with commitment at first, because who wouldn’t, but after that it was smooth sailing

Like obviously what she said in the Beach Hut at the beginning of the season wasn’t great for MC, but she knew exactly what she wanted out of her time on the show

She was confident in herself and her sexuality so much so that she was just down to have a fling with a girl and not worry about how it would effect the show

And then she *coupled up* with that same girl, not even giving a shit about the rules or anything

A queen

Allegra:

I know she’s not an official LI, but her arc is what got me into writing so she gets a million points for that

I love what could have been done with her progression if she was given an actual route, I’m a sucker for some good enemies to lovers, but alas, she’s canonically a bad bitch with a lot of internalised homophobia yet enough confidence to ask MC out

I still love her

Marisol:

I know so many people hate her, and I get it, but I do really like her growth

Maybe it’s cuz I’m pretty analytical too, but her analyses never bothered me or anything, and now that I’ve played her route so many times, it’s pretty obvious that that’s a defense mechanism, and I understand that

She very much so has a “figure their weaknesses out before they have a chance to figure mine out” attitude, and I’m 99% positive it’s because of the ex that Elisa reminded her of

So not only has she been burned in the past, I’m willing to bet it was by the only woman she’s been in a serious relationship with

I really have no problem with her commitment issues, it’s understandable, and I can really empathise with her fear of coming out, it’s absolutely terrifying even if you’ve accepted it and bought a flag, saying the words can be really difficult

My biggest issue is her entitlement and immaturity, I guess?

Like her using Graham to make MC jealous just feels like an excuse to crack on with him and still have MC available for when she’s ready

I understand her being scared to couple up, but playing games to distract herself just made things with MC worse

And unless youre on her route, and sometimes even when you are, it’s clear to me that she expects things and has no problem saying what they are, but going after them is a problem?

Like her going after Lurik even though they don’t have a connection, or Gary even when he’s with Hannah

But then it never works and she gets sad and I melt because I’m weak

ALSO, can I just say how awful it is that Lucas and Henrik don’t pick her unless they have to???

Like cmon she deserves MC after that

And when they finally couple up? And she’s all soft? The GROWTH ohmygod

Anyway I love who Marisol became, maybe not everything she started out as, but definitely the person she ended the season as, more confident and self assured and willing to be vulnerable

It’s precious

Elisa:

I still haven’t done an Elisa route

I tried to a couple months ago, but dumping Marisol felt so cruel, what the hell was Fusebox thinking with that??

I do really like that they learned from their mistake though, even if they went in the opposite direction

From what I’ve seen of Elisa, she can be pretty sweet, I’ve seen her described as a Lucas-Bobby hybrid, and while that’s not the most interesting personality to me, I will say that she’s a really cool character that FB messed up on

Why did they make her a straight up villain???

And why ONLY her???

None of the other female LIs have been villains or had such a complete 180

Like her going from shouting at Chelsea, who is literally meant to be MC’s ride or die and the person outside of your LI that youre supposed to want to defend and avenge, to “i cant even sleep because im pining so hard”

I know the treatment of black women has been discussed before, specifically in regards to Hope and Erikah, and it is by no means my place to speak on it, but I definitely think something’s going on with Elisa

Anywayyyy, I love her archetype

The celebrity and influencer has so much potential, to the point that I wrote a one shot without even knowing her lmao

And she’s so confident in a way that’s so different from Marisol

She doesn’t even care if MC’s happily coupled up, she WILL get in her pants and I respect that

In conclusion, Fusebox did her dirty and I’m probably going to try and retcon some canon for her in the future

Lottie:

Ohmygod

Lottie

A goth babe

Lottie

Yeah, anyway, so I love her

Her growth is just unbeatable in my opinion

Yeah, she still has her flaws by the end of the season, but she went from ready to rip everyone’s throat out to biting her tongue around Hannah

And her and MC???

And the development between them???

Ugh

No matter what way you swing it, you’ve either got best friends to lovers or enemies to lovers and I adore both

And her aesthetic is one of my favourites, I’m alt myself and having a character like that is just so cool

My Runaways MC is a ball of sunshine with some hidden darkness specifically because Lottie’s such a dark cloud but can start shining with the right person, and that’s my absolute favourite trope

But man were the wedding episodes a cop out

Why couldn’t they give her the Noah treatment? Or the single treatment? Where they just get together after the show? Same with Hannah, why are they giving such an intense confession after who knows how long of literally nothing, like no communication even????

Don’t get me wrong, I kinda simultaneously love it for the angst and yearning, but it just… makes no sense?

So yeah, amazing bat lady that I seriously vibe with and wish my MC could have wifed up

Hannah:

I know this is a little controversial buuuut

I fucking love Hannah

But only OGHannah, Returning Hannah was butchered and I will never let that go

And it was such a toxic message too, that she needed to change herself and her appearance just to get a guy to like her?

Fuck that, Original Hannah was amazing and perfect exactly as she was

I love her trope, too, the naivety and how obvious and clear it was that she’s still learning about the world and relationships, to the point that it’s going to get her in trouble

And her obsession with fairy tales?

Fucking adorable ohmygod

I started a fic a while ago that I think I’m gonna scrap, that just indulged in the fairy tale metaphors and stuff because I just love how cute it is lmao

If she wasn’t dumped, I think she could have had amazing growth alongside Lottie, and their friendship/kinda, probably, most-definitely-if-MC’s-not-there-more-than-a-friendship growing together would have been so good

In an alternate reality Hope was dumped instead, and that helps me sleep at night

I firmly stand by the fact that Noah should have been the deciding factor between Hope and Hannah/MC, where Lottie said something that screwed with his head earlier in the day to make sure her friends were safe

Noah should have saved Hannah/MC and Hope should have returned with Rocco, hellbent on revenge and proving herself

That would have been so good for Noah stans and such good drama, that actually made perfect sense

Hope was fully expecting that she’d get picked by Noah because they’d spent three days attached at the hip and then to just… not have that happen. It would have driven her insane and if there was then a scene with MC where she just like, gives up

Like she’s spent the past two days grafting Noah but he won’t make up his mind and she’s just done and MC can comfort her or fight with her and you just get to humanize her make her vulnerable and hurting and I fucking WISH they did something like that, even for RHannah

And Hannah’s growth in the Villa would have been so amazing

I think her idea of a perfect guy is definitely too much, and I’m not advocating that she settles by any means, just that she could have learned that there are things more important than money

That conversation on day 1 where you choose between money, kindness, and intelligence still baffles me

Like why are you a gold digger Hannah?!?!

Why don’t you just want a Prince/ss Charming???

Her and Hope should have swapped and I don’t understand why they weren’t

I mean, I do really like Hope, but Hannah’s just so cute and has so much to learn and her struggling in the Villa just to have a lightbulb moment with MC would have been precious and now I want to write it dammit

Anyway, Hannah is adorable and had so much potential and she never should have returned if they were just going to scrap everything that made her Hannah, except for snooty literature

I wanna listen to her rattle on about Belle and Mulan and every other Disney Princess and what they meant for representation and progress in media and then compare them to their original stories like a dweeb and I would have melted on the spot

Like yes, please tell me more about how gruesome Cinderella is

She should have shown up at the finale and hugged MC and been innocent and sweet so I could have just lost my shit for like a half hour

But stan OGHannah, burn RHannah

AJ:

Adorable, precious, denied an arc outside of coming out

I am not exaggerating when I say that I cried at 4:30 in the morning at her blushing face when playing the first two days

It’s just so fucking cute and I’m a sap and I don’t know why it made me cry, but it did okay?!

And her coming out was such good representation!!! By far the best thing in Boat Party, and I’m so proud of the progress FB’s made in queer representation at the very least

I know she’s pretty one dimensional, but most of S3 is unfortunately

Her being available right off the bat was also such a win, I’m positive it’s the reason she had so many stans

If her and Yasmin had switched or her and Lily, they would have been the ones that were dominating Reddit polls and stuff

And I know she’s written as masc but I just can’t really see it? Like I can’t see her in a dress, but outside of a few clothing items, I guess I just can’t see it? Maybe androgynous is more the word for my image of her, like definitely a mix

She’ll wear a skirt under the right circumstances, but never a dress, a crop top with a flannel, her prom outfit that’s like a frilly jumpsuit, stuff like that? idk im not a lesbian

Her route for me was so glitchy, but I know that if MC’s stolen from her by Yasmin, Tai, or Ciaran, she has some really cute scenes and I wish I could have seen them

And I know some people were ragging on her for the eyelash at the end of the scene but I thought that was just a perfect callback - maybe it’s the writer in me

Basically, AJ’s adorable and why did Ciaran have to split her and MC up, not cool dude

Yasmin:

I forgot I was doing a Yasmin route a while ago, but from what I’ve seen and played, she’s really sweet

I hate that she’s almost nonexistent outside of her route

Give us a mysterious musician friend, you cowards!

I saw that she sings to MC on the final date and damn is that cute

Her eyeshadow kinda throws me off, but her stuffed animal makes up for it

And I’m salty that Yasmin the Lamb disappeared too, that was such a nice detail that made me start a Yasmin route

She’s distant and self-assured, but has a soft, gooey, nostalgic center and I wish we saw more of that, even if we weren’t on her route

My final thoughts on Yasmin: An artsy indie icon that I really need to stop getting distracted from and finish her route

Lily:

Again, don’t know much about her, but she seems really cool

Her shaving her head between the finale and Boat Party is such a flex and I wish she did it right before Boat Party so we could see her in all her bald glory

She’s into cars, right? And… architecture?

Idk, I barely remember my own name, let alone a 10 minute date from months ago

But I’ll definitely get around to doing her route at some point, maybe just to write for her, we’ll see

Elladine:

I know she’s not an LI, but MC so should have been able to run away with her

I missed that option in S3

I kinda get why they didn’t do that, but Boat Party’s just so messy in general

And I would include Genevieve here, but she’s so cute with Seb that I’d feel bad splitting them up

But Elladine had actual problems with Nicky!!!

Why did they mention it for it to never pay off??

And I’m so mad that the hype around her died when it was revealed she wasn’t an LI or the badass of the season, because I still adore how sweet she is

I also want to brag that before we got a name I was calling her Emma and that’s just on example of my almost psychic-ness

But yeah I wanted Ell to be a run away option and I’m salty that she wasn’t

Know what, fuck it, Viv too, she’s smart and cool as hell, let us love these awesome women FB, you cowards!!!

I have no idea who would be my number 1 based on canon, but if we’re talking hypotheticals, I think my answer, as strange as it is, is Hannah.

I just love what she could have been, but by no means what she is.

It’s so awkward to know her for three days, not see her for three weeks, then spend a couple more days with, a couple weeks at most, just for her to write a whole ass book about MC?? And tell her about it with that hair????

No thanks, I’ll stick with closeted sapphic horse girl nerd Hannah because I guess that’s somehow my type??? Oh god what the fuck I swear I’m not a total weirdo

#asks #can it kc #okay but im loving doing this they're so fun wtf #but thanks so much for the ask!!!!!#litg

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kiruuuuu · 4 years

Text

Siegemas Day 24

Happy holidays everyone, it’s me again! I stepped in for this day :) Once again, thank you @dualrainbow, this event is a delight 💝💝

Today, my prompt is the very first line of the fic you find below. I hope you all enjoy it, and have a wonderful time no matter what or whether you’re celebrating! ✨ (Twitch/IQ, Rating T, fluff + emotional comfort, ~2.8k words)

“We made… too many cookies.”

The comedic timing is impeccable, the line delivered with perfect hesitance as to imply awareness of the understatement while hiding its undoubtedly practised nature. She’s a born people person with a knack for being charmingly endearing, and IQ is absolutely and horrifically powerless.

“This is ridiculous”, she states, deadpan, not giving away how amused she is in reality – it’s not often that she opens the door to a stunning young woman with pretty cheekbones tinted pink from the cold outside, clad in a flattering deep purple coat and holding several tin boxes in gloved hands. Patterned gloves, a row of snowflakes adorning the fabric. A very familiar row of snowflakes.

“I know, and I’m really sorry, but I don’t know anyone else who’d appreciate these.” Her hair is laid in neat waves framing her pale freckled face, light make-up completing the elegant look. She could be a film star, certainly possesses the same unselfconscious attitude one would expect, even though she’s displaying embarrassment right now. Her slim figure hugged tightly by her form-fitting clothes is visible clearly despite the frankly laughable amount of cookie tins and IQ can’t help herself.

She invites her in.

Twitch is a waterfall, bubbling excitedly about how or why she came across certain recipes, casually throwing in a French or German word amidst the usual English, and it’s impossible for IQ to follow her but she smiles and nods anyway while relieving her visitor of her cargo and placing it gingerly on the kitchen table. So far, this last Sunday before Christmas – the fourth Advent, as it’s called in her mother tongue – had been almost serene, began with chores and continued with a quiet cup of coffee and a good book before slowly tilting over into planning and researching for her next chapter. A regular occurrence. As a result, IQ is mentally somewhere else still and needs a few minutes before she can concentrate on her unexpected guest.

“Good to see you”, she chimes in during a small pause (wouldn’t you know it, even Twitch needs to breathe), and the two of them hug as a greeting. Twitch always gives her a good squeeze, really presses the two of them together, which is one of the reasons IQ looks forward to meeting her every day: it makes her feel appreciated. No one else comes close to these embraces, not Blitz, her decade-old friend, or even her own siblings. In Twitch’s arms, she closes her eyes and finds peace for a brief second.

It might be the absence of her family which has left her this sentimental – normally, she’s too busy to analyse her friends, to scrutinise them to this amount, but today an odd sort of nostalgia and possible bout of loneliness has overtaken her. She did light four candles on her wreath, the first one almost burnt out completely from being lit on all the previous Sundays, yet instead of providing warm illumination, it caused subtle brooding. Their house was always lively around Christmas, bustling with fights, pretend fights, singing, louder singing, future plans yelled through the staircase, raucous laughter, and various songs on repeat trying to drown each other out.

Here, in her small apartment in England, the silence felt foreboding.

“I tried my hand at spéculoos, which Marius called a German staple, and let me tell you – the dough I had was a nightmare to work with, much too sticky. I wanted to roll it out and use Julien’s cookie cutters but it wouldn’t cooperate, so you now have small poop piles of what I think you call Spekulatius. It’s in the blue tin, right on top there. I also made vanilla… uh, vanilla croissants? Shaped like moons? They’re Dom’s favourites, apparently, and Gilles begged me to help him, but he got the recipe wrong and we got so many that he just gave me half. Elias really wanted pain d’épices, um, spicy bread? No, gingerbread, that was it. You guys have the best name for it, by the way, Lebkuchen, it makes it sound like you’re Frankenstein: live, cake!”

Twitch somehow manages to wander through the flat while babbling on, accepting a cup of lukewarm coffee IQ puts in her hands and instinctively helping to pick a few cookies from each box to create an inviting-looking decorative paper plate which IQ carries into the living room where they settle down, fingers curled around warmed ceramic and eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

“You need to try these, it’s actually one of James’ mum’s recipes. Poppyseed and chocolate, they turned out better than expected, but after Liza told that story about her acquaintance failing a drug test because of poppyseed bagels, people refused to eat more than one and I definitely can’t stomach all of these alone.”

She watches, expectantly, as IQ dutifully picks out one of the spotted cookies shaped like a flower and bites into the crumbly bakeware. Surprising no one, it’s delicious – if there’s anything Twitch can’t do, IQ hasn’t found it yet.

“Really good”, she agrees, allowing for Twitch’s instant beaming smile to tug the corners of her own mouth upwards while she chews. “Manu, these all look lovely. You know I’d die for good Christmas cookies, so thank you. Even though this is way too much for me.”

Her laugh is melodic and as contagious as her constant sunny mood. “You should see how many I still have at home. Elias claimed he needs to watch his figure, Julien should be watching his figure, Doc doesn’t really like sweets, and Gilles eats maybe one cookie a day. Which you know is illegal at Christmastime.”

“Still, this is a wonderful present and I’m afraid I have nothing to give in return.” IQ isn’t being entirely honest. Still testing the waters; maybe Twitch will manage to read between the lines and they can finally address it. The moment the Frenchwoman stepped over the threshold was the moment IQ decided they’d talk it through today. It’s been going on long enough.

“Not true, you gave me the gloves!” Twitch’s triumphant gotcha! expression is self-satisfied and smug and sweet. Sweeter than the cookies calling to IQ – they really do look fantastic, a variety of shapes, sizes and colours, all together smelling of spices and memories and Christmas.

“Someone had to, you kept complaining about your icy fingers.”

“And you were probably sick of warming them up.” Twitch hasn’t caught on yet, her tone is still breezy and carefree. “Have you written some more? Any new scenes for me to read? I need to know whether the captain really is dead or not.”

IQ laughs, half embarrassed and half delighted – when the news broke in Rainbow that she writes stories in her spare time, she expected an outcome way worse than what she ended up facing: Castle immediately expressed interest in reading them, no matter the topic, and once word got out that it was usually science-fiction-centric, even more people approached her out of curiosity. None of them as enthusiastic as Twitch, however, who dove into the narratives like an age old fan into new material, sparking an unknown productivity in IQ which has yet to subside. Knowing there’s at least one person who devours anything she dreams up has been fantastically motivating, and they’ve begun spinning yarn together now and then. Twitch is the only one whom she trusts enough to proofread for scientific errors or inconsistencies, and she’s helped develop a character into a much more compelling version of themselves several times.

The next hour is spent on discussing IQ’s research, involving frantic googling and article hopping on Wikipedia to help with finding the correct jargon – Twitch knows most of the technical terms in French, which doesn’t mesh well with IQ’s rusty school French, whereas her German accent makes it difficult for the other woman to understand her, so they try to meet in the middle somewhere by using English, despite the laborious process involved.

They’re on one wavelength. Always have been, from the moment they came across each other in Rainbow’s workshop, when Twitch still dyed her hair auburn and IQ barely spoke a word with the other operators: a friendly smile, an engineering-related question, a brief introduction, and they were a house on fire. Inseparable at work.

Twitch made sure it bled into their private lives as well, even if it took considerable effort. IQ never asked, but she’s sure her friend secretly celebrated that one day when she finally said yes to one of her suggestions of meeting up.

And it’s exactly why it hurts so fucking much to think -

“Manu.”

Twitch stops talking mid-sentence, probably caught off guard by her serious tone of voice. “Yes? Is everything alright?”

It might be. She hopes it will be. Her fingers stray to a loose thread peeking out of the seam of her trousers, picking at it. “We’ve been friends for a while now.”

Several years, in fact, an unimaginably long time. Not that IQ hasn’t been able to keep friendships alive for this long, but never one this close. The level of intimacy usually kept declining after a certain point, usually prompted by nothing, sometimes spatial distance, sometimes emotional. There aren’t many people who keep up with her over a long time, and even fewer she keeps up with – Blitz is a great friend, but he just doesn’t share her passions.

“And you’re one of the most generous people I know. Your first instinct when you have too many cookies is to give them away. I’ve always admired this about you.”

Twitch is listening intently. She knows something is up, yet can’t put her finger on it. Her brows are furrowed. IQ knows this from a brief glance before her gazed drops back down to her restless fingers.

“Julien and I had a conversation about you, not too long ago. And some of what he said was… unexpected.” Rustling; Twitch is beginning to fidget as well. “Unrelated to that, Dom overheard you voicing your frustration about your being single and mentioned it to me. I didn’t know you were that unhappy. You never said anything.”

She really likes you. Yeah, don’t wave me off. I’ve never seen her fawn over someone like this. You get special treatment all the time.

And then, more poignant: At this point, I’m basically ready to fuck anything that moves.

The second quote echoes in her mind as if she’d heard it herself instead of it being delivered second-hand. Both of them made her look back at the past months and re-evaluate some events. Showed them in a very different light.

Twitch is radiating anxiousness. It’s easy to pick up.

“I realise now that I’ve received a lot of special attention from you, and… I just have to wonder.” It’s harder and harder to push the words out, her throat closing up. “Wonder whether your present today is cookies and friendship, or cookies and a confession, or cookies and an expectation. Whether there’s some kind of motive attached.”

Her entire life, there’s never been anyone outside her family who understood her better. Being a woman in a male dominated field is difficult enough, especially as a competitive one, and her experiences aren’t easily conveyed to her guy colleagues – Twitch understands, of course, has faced the same obstacles and prejudices. Seeking patterns everywhere, striving for excellence, despising complacency, the overwhelming need to reverse engineer anything new or remarkable, exploring new places, wanting to always keep moving and improving – Twitch understands, has had a similar upbringing and equivalent goals.

They share almost everything at this point, have been on holidays together, mastered several projects with each other’s help, stayed up till sunrise because sleep was the inadequate alternative to exchanging ideas and pushing each other further than they’d go by themselves. Others have always tried to slow IQ down, force her to relax, take her mind off something she enjoyed chewing on, and it was infuriating.

All Twitch does is encourage her. Which paradoxically calms IQ more than any massage or empty-brained film ever could.

She doesn’t want to lose all this. Her chest hurts with the pressure of potentially losing someone this dear to her. But at the same time, she doesn’t want Twitch to get the wrong idea.

When silence is all she receives, she looks up to find Twitch fighting for composure – wide eyes filled with moisture and lip quivering. It’s a stab in the guts. IQ has never seen her cry.

“I don’t -”, Twitch chokes out, adding more quietly: “This isn’t -”

IQ sits next to her, reaching out but retreating when Twitch shakes her head, so all she does is take her hand. As always, her fingers are cold, so IQ closes her own around them. This isn’t at all what she intended, but she needs to know.

“Your friendship means the world”, comes a much more composed statement after a minute. “You should know this.”

She nods. She does know.

“And – and yes, if there was more, I’d be happy. Even happier than I am now. But there doesn’t need to be.” Twitch is speaking faster now, rushing the words, her melodic French accent thickening. “I’m fine with everything staying the way it is. I love being around you, no matter how, so if you’re not okay with – with anything else, it’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll get over it, no worries.”

“Manu. Breathe.” Seeing the other woman in a panic is a rare sight and IQ doesn’t enjoy knowing she’s the cause. “I love being around you, too. You’re my best friend, by far. But… I don’t want anything casual.”

Twitch needs a moment to digest this and IQ readies her responses: she’s had bad experiences with it in the past, and as far as she knows, arrangements like friends with benefits tend to make everything messy and awkward. Staying friends is the better option.

“Yes. Me neither.” A beat. Their eyes meet, Twitch’s still glistening.

There is an even better option, as far as IQ is concerned. And it seems to slowly dawn on the nearly perfect woman next to her.

“And… what about something not casual? But still more?”

Oh. The pressure begins to lift off her chest with every passing second, with every second that Twitch stares at her, hopeful, unsure. Slowly, she clarifies: “You mean – cookies and a confession?”

The nod is nearly imperceptible, and IQ probably almost breaks her fingers by squeezing so hard. The next thing she knows is she’s leaning forward and pressing their lips together, tasting the saltiness of perceived rejection as well as the disbelieving smile of actual acceptance, and then Twitch is laughing as well, crying in between relieved giggling, almost hysterical, and IQ joins in, and before they know it, they’re a mess on the sofa, hugging, seeking physical contact, pressing kisses to temples and hair and cheeks and lips again, wrapping arms around warm bodies.

Her heart is singing because while she so fiercely hoped, she barely dared to, was used to disappointments and therefore expected the worst, even ascribed traits to her best friend in the whole world who’d never stoop so low as to demand something from her she wasn’t ready to give. No, Twitch understands her and vice versa. Even so, it took them an embarrassingly long time to get to this point. In their shared joyousness, they barely manage to finish their sentences:

“What Dom heard me say wasn’t, I mean, I was just -”

“Yes, I figured, but it still got me thinking -”

“I was having a bad day, I’m not that frustrated -”

“Oh? That’s a shame, you know, I was actually looking forward to -”

“Monika!”, Twitch exclaims, scandalised even though they’re both aware IQ is joking, and by now they’re laughing like mad, especially because Twitch only uses her full name when she’s done something, so IQ resorts to tickling her in retaliation or maybe to distract her, and they both yelp when Twitch’s foot shoots up, gets caught on the rim of the cookie plate peeking over the coffee table’s edge, and catapults its contents everywhere. One manages to hit IQ in the face, the rest is scattered all over the floor, which sets them off again after a second of total silence.

“It’s fine, it’s fine”, Twitch gets out in between breaths, “I really do have tons more at home.” Which IQ believes her in a heartbeat.

Even though she’s pretty sure she got the lion’s share of the leftovers.

And just a second before they notice that the napkin on which the cookies were presented has caught fire, IQ thinks about how she dreaded spending Christmas at Hereford without her family – and she realises now she’ll be in great company regardless.

#rainbow six siege #twitch #iq #twitch/iq #fanfic #oneshot #siegemas #this is the last couple perfecting my quartet of german/french ships #check out their new bios btw #in my head they fit so so so well together #I'm looking forward to reading all the entries I've missed!!#I hope I'll have more time after Christmas

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rosaline-kei · 4 years

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Under My Wing - Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Boruto/Naruto nor the characters.

Fandom: Boruto: Naruto Next Generation.

Parts: 「1」 , 「2」 , 「3」

Chapter 3′s Title: Kakashi vs Sarada.

Synopsis: After her father had taken up Boruto as his student, Sarada began to feel a little... at a loss. Sure, Sasuke still teaches her some things, like how he taught her that Fireball Jutsu. But unlike to Boruto, he isn't her fulltime mentor. And now, she doesn't know who to turn for guidance in mastering her Sharingan. That is, until the Sixth Hokage came along. (Might contain Manga Spoilers)

Rated: T

Pairings (To note: Romance isn’t the main focus, though. But there will be some pairing moments): Boruto Uzumaki/Sarada Uchiha , Sakura Haruno/Sasuke Uchiha , Naruto Uzumaki/Hinata Hyuga

Read it also on / Leave a Review at:

Ao3 or FF net

Author’s Note (READ AFTER READING CHAPTER):

I made some minor changes in previous chapters; nothing too severe but re-read it if you wish. Thanks for reading this! I hope the fight between Kakashi and Sarada wasn't shit. I'm not good at writing fighting scenes. I didn't mean to make Sarada weak! Albeit, I do believe she still has lots to learn.

I also hope I didn't get any Naruto/Boruto information wrong… if I did, please inform me, and I'll make changes right away! Please Leave A Review! (either here, personal message or on the fanfic webs stated above^^) Constructive Feedback would be nice :)

Now then." Kakashi said as he stood up, stretching his arms as he walked towards the spacious training ground. "It's still early. And there's one last thing I want to assess you on now that I know your mind has been cleared a bit."

Sarada quickly stood up after. "S-Sure…" She stuttered, "What is it…?"

"It's nothing too difficult. It's to help me get a closer assessment of your current skills." He had said, and as he got into a fighting stance, Sarada could've guessed what it was, but she didn't think for it to be true until he told her. "It's combat. Treat me as the enemy, and don't hold back."

---

The next thing Sarada knew, the sound of Kunais clashing against one another began to reverberate loudly around the forest.

Don't hold back.—his words were reverberating in her head too.

She wasn't holding back. She didn't plan to. Her opponent was the Sixth Hokage—who now decided to be her sensei—and the last thing she knew she should do was to underestimate him and the last thing she wanted was for him to underestimate her. She was going to give it her all.

Not to mention, after the mess of her earlier Kunai and Shuriken throwing demonstration that she had showcased to him caused by her troubled thoughts, she felt a great urge to prove herself to him. Especially now, when her mind wasn't as clouded as before.

Kakashi could tell this. He could tell she was no longer as troubled as before in regards to her clan and her Sharingan. After all, her movements and retaliations were smooth and quick. There was absolutely with no hesitation. And for one reason or another, it reminded him of Sasuke during his young Genin days.

He never really held back.

Sarada had activated her Sharingan from the start of her fight, and with each strike and counter that Kakashi shot at her, her eyes would absorb and analyse more information. They would search for openings. A chance to strike.

An opening… She thought as she blocked his strike. I need an opening. And her eyes widened when she finally spotted one. At his arm.

Over there! She thought. Without a moment to lose, while one of her hands busied with preventing Kakashi from landing a strike, her free hand reached in her back pocket, drawing out another Kunai as she swiftly swung it to his opening spot.

Or to what she thought was an opening.

"Nice try, Sarada." said Kakashi, who at the same time took out another Kunai as well to block hers. Sarada didn't even see that coming, her eyes had been too focused at only the opening. And now she was faced with the consequence of having to hold back both his Kunais.

Kakashi watched her Sharingan eyes shoot a glare at him, and he couldn't help but scoff. And to think she was all nervous and flustered earlier when I said I'd become her personal sensei, he thought with a sigh. Then again, I did tell her to treat me like an enemy…

He briefly thought back to the time when he had conducted the Genin test for her batch at the academy. At that time, he didn't manage to have a one-on-one with her unlike Boruto. And unlike Boruto at that time, he could tell she wasn't taking her opponent for granted.

But even so, she still has ways to go… He wondered. Anyway, it's about time she—

Kakashi quickly cut his thoughts off the moment he noticed the young girl's glare intensify. He immediately lifted his leg up to give her a kick to her chin, only for her to dodge and retreat back.

"Were you about to trap me in your Genjutsu when I got close enough?" Kakashi asked as he noticed a fleeting look of disappointment cross her face. "You've got to be quicker, and less obvious of your next move for that matter." Having battled previous Sharingan wielders, and having previously owned a Sharingan, it hadn't caught him by surprise when Sarada tried to pull off a Genjutsu on him. Not when they were trapped in that position where their Kunais trying to hold the other off, when she was close enough to meet his eyes.

Sarada remained silent, gripping both her Kunais tightly. She was thankful that her eyes saved her from that ruthless kick of his, but was upset that she wasn't able to use them to get him under a Genjutsu.

"You have to remember, your enemies might know that you're an Uchiha, a wielder of the Sharingan. And if those enemies are skilled, they'll be even more cautious and prepared as compared to me when encountering you and your eyes—the ones famous for a Genjutsu." He told her, "So be more subtle. It wasn't a surprise for me when you tried to use it on me earlier when I was somewhat trapped in that position."

Before Sarada could've had the chance to mumble a word of acknowledgement in regards to his advice, a few Shurikens came flying towards her face.

Unhesitatingly, she took out a few Shurikens of her own, throwing some at the ones approaching her to deflect them while dodging the others as she charged towards him.

To think she was struggling earlier to aim them properly with both her eyes opened and focusing on her target. Kakashi pondered, now her gaze doesn't even linger more than a second at the Shurikens flying towards her before dodging or deflecting them.

While charging towards him, Sarada began to weave some hand signs. "Lightning style! Lightning ball!" And the next thing Kakashi saw was a large lightning ball hurling towards him.

So she knows lightning style? He thought to himself, his hands already weaving signs to formulate a Jutsu to counter. Then teaching her that shouldn't be difficult.

"Earth style! Mud Wall!" He exclaimed once he finished weaving all the signs. A large mud-wall came rising from the ground, blocking the Uchiha's lightning attack. Albeit, it crumbled a little from the impact.

On the other side of the wall, Sarada was already preparing for her next attack as she ran towards where Kakashi supposedly was.

Don't hold back, he had to her.

But she did wonder, was he holding back? It wouldn't surprise her if he was. Even she, herself, was aware of the fact that she still had more to learn, more to master. There was absolutely no way she could beat him now, not at this stage, right?

Even with the Sharingan, she had learnt throughout all her missions that it wouldn't necessarily give her an edge. Not to mention, she was still stuck with one tomoe. After two years, she was still stuck with one in both her eyes.

She pushed those pestering thoughts aside before they could spread and cloud her mind once again. "Don't think about that now, Sarada…" She mumbled to herself as her hands rapidly weaved signs, "Just give it your all!" Upon reaching the other side of the wall, she was about to release her Fireball Jutsu that her father had once taught her, but stopped when she realise he was no longer there.

Damn it! She cursed in her mind as she turned to her left, seeing a familiar figure in a distance getting smaller as he jumped onto the trees leading west. Not wanting to lose him, she went for the chase.

Even if she was aware of the high possibility that she wouldn't be able to beat him this time round, she was still filled with the fiery spirit of not giving up, not wanting to lose.

---

It had been almost two minutes since Sarada began chasing him, and she still couldn't pinpoint the exact reason why he was running away from her.

He wasn't exactly in a vulnerable position so as to retreat, so that reason didn't make sense. Was he leading her into a trap? Or was he just trying to wear her and her Sharingan out? Or worse, was that just a shadow clone to trick her?

She couldn't tell, but decided it was best to remain a fair distance away from him for now until she could formulate a better strategy.

Leaping from branch to branch with her guard up, she reflected back to the earlier fight she had with Kakashi. To say that he was skilled was probably an understatement. Even with her Sharingan, it still took quite an effort and time to finally spot an opening.

There wasn't much to observe from his fighting style and technique with the Kunai that he displayed earlier. She thought, quickening her pace just slightly when her target did. He dodges and strike whenever he sees an opening… I don't see any pattern so far.

She pondered on briefly if she should use her Fireball Jutsu now, before he had the chance to pull any tricks on her. The forest was dark after all with all the large trees and its leaves blocking the sun —a great setting for him to pull something—and it wasn't getting any better as they ventured deeper into the woods. Plus, given the fact her Fireball Jutsu had improved to a great extent, there was possibility that its large flames could force out wherever the real Kakashi was hiding if the white-haired man in front of her turned out to be a fake.

At the same time, she knew she also had to factor in the other possibility that he was expecting her to use the Fireball Jutsu that he wanted to trap her.

He was the Sixth Hokage. The Ninja who became Chunin at the age of 6, and Jonin at the age of 12. The Ninja who had an especially important role in the great ninja war, so she heard.

And he was a Sharingan user who was also once both her parent's sensei. He knew her eyes' weakness, and maybe even an Uchiha's weakness at that.

It was risky to use the Fireball Jutsu now—Sarada was aware of that. But she wasn't sure what other options she had left. She could throw her Shurikens and Kunais at him, but she knew he'd be able to dodge them all. She could follow him to wherever he was going, but she didn't want to become a hunter turn prey if he were to lead her successfully into a trap.

I might as well force him into a fight, she thought. I need to see if he has any other weakness. Running isn't going to solve anything… and it's too late to hide myself…

"Sometimes you just got to leave it all to chance!" For one reason or another, Boruto's voice began to chime in her head. "Ya know, play it by the ear!" At that time she refused to ever become a person like that. A person that "played it by the ear". But in her years of training, she came to learn that there were times where it was a must to take uncertain risks.

"Tsk." She clicked her tongue agitatedly, her hands already moving on its own. I hope you're right, Boruto.

When Kakashi suddenly jumped off, and down from the branch, Sarada unhesitatingly followed after. Confidently, she exclaimed. "Fireball Jutsu!" before blowing out fire towards her sensei's direction.

Only for him to counter back with water.

"Water style! Water wall!"

Eyes widening, Sarada swiftly managed to catch her balance, landing on the lake itself as she focused her chakra on the soles of her feet. Steam began to emerge from the water and fire colliding.

There's a lake here?! He was leading me… damn it! She cursed as she shifted her legs a little on the water, readying herself for the next hit as she got into a fighting stance. I should've been more careful… no, if only I could have made up my mind quicker then maybe I—

Her thoughts were cut off by the sudden sound of buzzing, of electricity. It didn't take her long to figure out what Kakashi was planning—especially when her pair of Sharingan eyes caught sight of the water droplets falling around her after that water style counter.

She had been lucky enough to get herself away from the water in time and back on the land, before the lightning—that now used the droplets of water as its medium to conduct its flow—could electrocute her. If it hadn't been for my Sharingan I…

She bit her lip in agitation. It didn't take her long to figure out that she had fallen prey. Perhaps it had been carless of her to listen to Boruto's words, but the more she thought about it the more she found herself blaming herself for her earlier indecisiveness. If she had made the decision earlier to use her Fireball Jutsu when she saw Kakashi, then maybe she'd have some chance.

She hated this. This wasn't like her at all, and she knew that. Even after clearing her mind and erasing her troubles so she could truly showcase her abilities to her new sensei, she still found herself at the losing end and she hated it.

Was it because she was nervous? No it's not that.

Was it because her worries from before were creeping back? No it's not that either…

Or was it just because she was weak?

She bit her lip tighter at the mere thought of that. She didn't want to be weak. How can she be the Hokage if she was weak?

That aside, she didn't know how long this was going to last. Granted, she still had a fair amount of chakra left, but if he were to put her in a spot where she'd be forced into something exhaustive, she wasn't sure if she could hold up.

There must be something. She pondered, her hand clenching into a fist. I…

Her eyes trailed to her clenched fist, and that's when it hit her.

That's i—

Her thoughts were cut off when her eyes caught sight of something bright amidst the steam, hurling towards her. She recognized it in an instant. A Fireball Jutsu. She had anticipated this, of course an ex-Sharingan user would've used this famous Jutsu before. And fortunately for her, she had a perfect counter in mind.

Automatically, her hands weaved signs that her eyes had memorized earlier. In a second, she instantly exclaimed, "Earth Style! Mud wall!" And the ground rose to become her shield before the flames could scorch her skin. She wasn't sure how well it would hold up, it had been her first time attempting something earth-style related. If only I knew some water-styled Jutsus… she sighed.

This will buy me some time for that, at least. She thought, before fleeing. This has to work.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the wall, Kakashi's Fireball had penetrate her mud wall for the most part. Quick reflexes, he thought as he noticed her disappearance. Albeit, it didn't really faze him so much. Well, it's my turn to find her.

---

As Kakashi ran in the forest in search of the young Uchiha, he reflected back to the skills she had showed to him. And unlike Sarada, he didn't think any less of her despite the fact she hadn't landed a successful hit on him. There had been a few close calls, though.

If anything, he saw good potential in her—A Shinobi potential— a potential that was maybe even more than what he saw in Sasuke back in his young Genin days. And this was mostly because unlike her father back then, her heart wasn't corrupted with hatred to the extent it'd blind her from making the right choices. She wasn't seeking revenge. She wanted to become Hokage. Even if she were to find out about her clan's dark past, he doubted she'd be consumed by the Curse of Hatred, right?

After all, she was Sakura's daughter—and that pink-haired woman had nurtured her with so much love during her father's absence. And when he had returned back home, a father's love was what she received.

As of now, he wasn't worried about this Uchiha in regards of her straying away from the Will of Fire. The only thing he was worried so far was about her opinion of herself. He hoped she wouldn't beat herself too much over this, if she were to lose to him.

She was only thirteen, and she still had many years to grow and nurture her strength.

For all he knew, she could possibly surpass Naruto—who she seemed to look up to as she walked the path of the Hokage.

He was aware that while the vast majority of Konoha had forgiven Sasuke and his sins, there were a few who were still sceptical, but kept their silence due to their respect for Naruto. As for the villages outside of the leaf that had been either indirectly or directly affected by Sasuke's past mistakes, he wasn't so sure.

On a different note… I wonder how far she ran off to… He thought with a sigh, I could be reading Icha-Icha while I search for her. Then again, I've reread it so many times that I practically have that whole series memorized…

The faint rustling sound of the trees had cut off his thoughts, and had made him halt in his chase. He took a glimpse at his surroundings. "Come out." He said nonchalantly, as he leaned against one of the tall-standing trees. "I know you're here." He spoke, "There's no wind blowing here blowing the trees after all."

And the next sound he heard once again was the clashing of Kunais. Upon having her hiding spot exposed, Sarada had left the camouflaged space provided by the large leaves of the trees, and shot herself towards Kakashi's back with a Kunai in one hand—only for it to be countered with his own.

"If the wind had been blowing, you might have caught me off guard. Be more careful next time." He commented as he swung his Kunai towards her, for her to only dodge and attempt a retaliation. She didn't reply, her eyes that flashed her Sharingan only focused on the Kunais that battled one another. She thought of placing him under a Genjutsu, but it was a struggle given how fast he was moving, how fast he was retaliating.

Kakashi didn't hesitate to bring up her sudden change in style, "Your fighting is becoming a little hasty." He remarked. "Just like how Boruto was during the Genin exam." He sighed, recollecting how that child was brimming of overconfidence. Although, he sure he wasn't so hasty anymore, right? It had been two years after all.

"Don't compare me to—" Kakashi's abrupt kick to her stomach that had sent her flying towards the tree had cut her off. "Don't just focus on the Kunai." He spoke.

"T…Tsk…" She clicked her tongue agitatedly, rubbing her eyes a little as she forced herself to stand up. And right before her eyes, Kakashi had vanished.

"Where did he—"

"Earth style! Head-hunter Jutsu!"

"What the—?!" was the first thing that left Sarada's lips when she felt something wrapping around her leg, and a loud yelp soon followed after when that something pulled her down into the ground, leaving only her head on the surface.

"You're suddenly being quite careless, Sarada." Kakashi said, emerging from the darkness as he walked towards her, looking down on the Uchiha who had a familiar look of frustration like her father when he had gotten trapped too. "You were doing well at the lake earlier… I—"

The smirk that slowly grew on her face had cut him off, raising some suspicion. However, before he could've gotten the chance to react, he heard an awfully familiar voice shouting. "Don't underestimate the Uchiha!" Another Sarada came forth towards him, and the buried one disappeared. It had been a shadow clone.

With her fist clenched, Sarada aimed her fist at the ground. Mama, give me strength. She thought silently.

And once her fist came into contact with the ground, everything came falling, breaking, and destroyed— all with one monstrous punch.

Small dirt and dust particles floated and filled the air. Even if Sarada was sure that that punch to the ground definitely caught Kakashi, her guard remained up as she walked through the dust, avoiding the new large cracks on the ground that her fist had caused.

Taking a few steps forward, she spotted Kakashi lying on a tree that had fell due to Sarada's punch and its impact.

"You got your mother's strength alright…" He groaned, briefly recalling the time he nearly suffered Sakura's fist, directly. Nearly. And now here he was, facing the impact from a 'Mini Sakura'. He slowly sat up. "Honestly—"

Sarada—or rather, her Kunai—had interrupted his reply, with it nearing his neck. "Had this been your plan along?" Kakashi queried, shifting his head backwards away from the knife, to only be stopped from going back any further by the tree behind him. "You told me not to hold back." Sarada responded calmly, her grip tightening on her Kunai slightly. Despite her 'victory' she didn't seem too overjoyed. Something just felt off.

Taking a risk, her Sharingan eyes glimpsed towards her right a little, and widened in fright.

No—!

She turned, about to counter, but to no avail. Her Kunai flew in the air briefly before dropping down a distance away from her on the ground. And now, it was Kakashi's Kunai against her neck.

The one behind her had been a shadow clone. And she had spotted and sensed the real one's chakra a second too late.

Carefully, Sarada quickly reached for her Shurikens in her back-pocket, only for Kakashi to take a step back and spoke, "That's all for today."

Huh?

"I had enough of a close view of your abilities, Sarada." He smiled. "Besides, any more fighting, and the whole forest might be destroyed." He joked light-heartedly.

"Oh…" Sarada bit her lip slightly, as her eyes reverted back to its black colour. "Yeah…" She replied to his little joke, albeit a little sullenly.

Kakashi raised a brow. He would've asked her what the matter was if he hadn't know the answer. "You done well today." He spoke, and it was the honest truth. "I had expected for you to be a little more frazzled when facing a Jonin like myself, let alone by yourself, since for the most part you worked in teams more often to take down a criminal or criminals. However, you proved me wrong."

"Of course, there are some areas of improvement that you can still make—but you're only thirteen, and still a Genin. You will make mistakes along the way. It's natural. And once you mend those mistakes, you'll eventually be a great shinobi in due time." He assured.

"I know… it's just…" She hesitated briefly, debating whether she should lower her guard and share some parts of her vulnerability to her new sensei. Eventually, she did. She wanted to build trust with him. Plus, it wasn't like it was a mystery to him anyway. And she had already opened up to him a little earlier. "Two years, and my Sharingan is still like… this. Under-developed. Only one tomoe in each eye. If I had two… or maybe even three, then maybe I wouldn't have struggled so much in the beginning…maybe—"

"Maybe," Kakashi interrupted, as he shifted to stand in front of her. "You shouldn't reduce your self-worth to just your Sharingan, Sarada."

Sarada's eyes widened. What Kakashi said, about her reducing her self-worth to just her Sharingan, had just dawned upon her. It was as if she had just finally been made fully aware of it. But even so, that dissatisfied feeling lingering within her stayed stubbornly. And unknowingly, she expressed a troubled sort of look.

"If that had been me instead of a shadow clone, that fist of yours would've killed me." He joked, upon noticing her troubled look. His eyes had softened slightly. "You are more than your Sharingan. I know that you want to improve, especially in the areas regarding your Sharingan… but you mustn't think that it is all your power is worth." He said. "Many Ninjas who were born without gifts, have succeeded well in their life—have proved their worth. Take your mother for example."

A soft sound of bells jingling echoed around. "Remember these?" Kakashi queried, having taken out the bells he used for her batch's Genin test. "Just between us, Naruto and Sakura were successful in retrieving the bells from me. Sasuke… hadn't had the chance." From how her expression changed from troubled to surprise, Kakashi figured she hadn't expect her father to not be able to retrieve the bells when the other members of the original Team 7 could. Of course, he hadn't been there to take the test due to some… circumstances. And the reason for Naruto and Sakura's victory was because they used his beloved Icha Icha against him…

Though, she didn't need to know any of that, because that fact still stood as the truth. And although he wanted her to embrace the eyes she was gifted it, as well as have her hone its skills, he didn't want her to grow so absorbed of it to the extent where she'd go… crazy.

Before Sarada could respond, Kakashi gave a pat on her head. "You done well today. Better than the Kunai throwing you showed to me before." He praised once again, "Well, that's it for today. I'll see you tomorrow, 9.30 a.m. sharp on the bridge." With that, Kakashi left.

Sarada stood there quietly, her hand reaching out and resting to where he had patted her head, watching the Jonin disappear into the darkness that the forest provided. Her mind briefly drifted off, pondering on what life and fate now had in stall for her now that Kakashi was her new sensei.

Sensei. Another thought came crashing in. Konohamaru Sensei.

How was he going to react to this? Or had Kakashi informed him of this already? And if he hadn't, what was she going to say to him?

It was no doubt that Konohamaru had been an amazing mentor to Team seven, to her. In the two years, he had indisputably helped the whole of Team 7 in their growth of being a Ninja. She was afraid that he might think he wasn't good enough if she told him that she accepted Kakashi as her new mentor—another sensei, to personally train her. A sensei that wasn't him. Moreover, there was already another member of Team seven that had another mentor to train him, another mentor that wasn't Konohamaru.

How would he feel? Thought Sarada. About his own students and team members wanting to train with someone else too…? I mean, it's not that I look down or doubt Konohamaru-sensei… but for my Sharingan…Kakashi-sensei would be the… but will he feel sad? Disappointed with himself? About the fact that his own team, own students are looking to others for guidance…?

"I tell ya Mitsuki, Sasuke-san is tough! I'm surprised he even let me off early today." Speak of the devil.

Turning to her right, she spotted two familiar figures walking towards her direction. Boruto and Mitsuki.

"Well, you did tell him you wanted to—oh, Sarada." Mitsuki noticed, greeting the Uchiha.

"Eh? Sarada? What are you doing h—" Boruto had cut himself off, upon noticing the destruction that surrounded Sarada, the destruction that was caused by her deathly fist. "What happened here?! Did someone attack you?!"

"It's nothing. I was just training." Sarada reassured with a sigh following after as she walked past the blonde.

"T-Training?" Boruto murmured, stuttering slightly as he grimaced at the damage she caused. He internally prayed that he wouldn't have to one day face the wrath of her fist.

"Afraid?" Sarada turned towards him a little, a small smirk that had spread across her lips upon noticing his stutter. She found her mood lightening a little after playfully taunting him, albeit she didn't know why.

"Am not!" He defended.

"Then why are you being so defensive?" She pestered, taking a step closer to him.

Feeling slightly intimidated of her—or maybe more so of her fist—he instinctively took a step back. "I—"

"You two make a good couple." Mitsuki cut in, smiling a little more when he noticed both of their cheeks reddening. Even after two years… that opinion of his had always remained the same. And neither Sarada nor Boruto could think of the reason why. However, before either one retort or dispute, he continued, "Anyway, Boruto and I were going to visit Konohamaru-sensei. Since you're here, you should come along—you're a part of Team 7 after all."

Sarada's cheeks were fast to fade back to its original skin colour when Mitsuki brought up Konohamaru-sensei. She managed to not express her earlier distressed look when she had been thinking of how Konohamaru would react to this new news. "Sure." She managed to reply, a smile forcing its way to her lips.

She had to tell Konohamaru-sensei sooner or later anyway, should he be unaware of Kakashi being her new personal mentor—sensei. Plus, she did want to check on him and how he was recovering. "Let's go then."

#under my wing #my fanfic #rosakei fanfic #Kakashi #Kakashi Hatake #Boruto #Sarada #Sarada Uchiha #Boruto Uzumaki #Mitsuki #Sarada fanfic #Boruto fanfic #borusara #hinted borusara #Sarada fanfiction #Boruto fanfiction #what else do i tag hm eh #the uchiha family

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the--sound--of--rain · 4 years

Text

The Terror Of The Umpty Ums by Steven Moffat - A Review by A Lit. Student

Okay, I’m a little tipsy and very angry, but I’ll try my best not to make this into a rant and actually analyse critically. (Haven’t done that in a long time, since I’m procrastinating all my uni work atm.)

So, this is a short story. Like many short stories, it tries to bring across a certain message. What is this message? That stories can help us fight out inner demons. How do I know that? Right, because a character in the story states the message out loud.

“We’re all stories in the end. But do you know what a story is, David? It’s an idea. And do you know what an idea is? It’s a thought so big and so clever it can outlive you. It can fly out of your head, and into other people’s. Like I’m in your head, right now. Keeping you right. Never cruel, never cowardly. Always the Doctor.”

I’m just... how, how does he keep making this basic mistake? It’s the first thing they tell you in every writing workshop: show, don’t tell.

Let’s continue with the same quote: “We’re all stories in the end.” Really? Come up with new lines, Steven, please. I know, he’s using an iconic line to make the reader feel nostalgic, but it’s just so typically self-indulgent. Same with the last three (or four?) sentences. Let’s say it’s okay to do it once, for nostalgia purposes, but twice in one paragraph? Ridiculous. Also, I can’t help but wonder if those lines were strategically placed at the beginning and end of this paragraph in order to distract from the sloppy writing in the middle. Besides the fact that it is typical Moffat writing, where he’s tries to make the idea he’s trying to express sound like the most important thing in the world, it doesn’t even make sense:

Look at those two sentences: “It can fly out of your head, and into other people’s. Like I’m in your head, right now.” What does this imply? That David’s hearing the Doctor’s voice in his head is comparable to someone reading or hearing a story and then, knowing that story, i.e. having it in their head? David, a child with dissociative identity disorder (Moffat calls it dissociative personality disorder, which I’m not sure is the correct term?), not being able to tell real from unreal, is on the same level as someone enjoying a story? I’m quite sure Moffat didn’t think this through, but that really is no excuse; it’s such a sensitive issue and he writes for children, for god’s sake. (I’ll go more into this in a separate post since I don’t want to make this one too long.)

In connection with this, we’ve got the twist. Many short stories use a twist toward or at the end to either hammer home a point or shock the reader. Moffat chose not to use the twist to hammer home his point, as he had already put it into words so neatly (read with lots of sarcasm please) for the Doctor to say out loud. No, he chose to shock us. (What a surprise.) And to be able to do that, he chose a mentally ill child as his focaliser. Now, I am not saying this is a wrong thing to do. You’ve got to be careful when you do it, but - as with all risky choices - if done well, it can be brilliant.

So, what can/should be achieved by making a certain character the focaliser of your story? The reader feels close to that character and understands how they feel in a quite personal way. Especially with mentally ill characters, I think, perceiving the narrative through their eyes can bring across a very powerful message. Let’s look at the way Moffat showed us how it feels to David to realise he’s only imagining the Doctor’s voice in his head:

It couldn’t be true. It simply couldn’t. And yet as he stood there in the cold and the dark he saw that it was as true as anything ever could be. He took another breath of the freezing air and said the words out loud. “I watched you on television.”

Can you feel the weight of the realisation? Because I can’t. David’s mental state is not explored, but used for shock value; a cheap twist that has nothing to do with the message.

And this ties into another thing every writer should know: The form hammers home the contents. Meaning, don’t tell your story from the POV of a mentally ill person if it’s not about mental illness.

I know Moffat would probably say that the story is about mental illness (and how stories can help you deal with it), which, I have to say at this point, is a beautiful concept. But it is executed so poorly that the perspective of the protagonist, who is dealing with the issue the story is supposed to be about, isn’t even used to add anything to it.

No, rather than actually trying to write well, let’s drop about 50 complex-looking technical terms to show that this is a Science-Fiction-Story, can you tell? (Except it’s not, because it’s all in David’s head) and then throw in another ‘The Doctor is so great, he is the greatest being in the universe’-speech, just for good measure. “The oncoming storm, the bringer of darkness, the imp of the Pandorica! The final victor of the Time War.” Uuh, wow, never heard all that before, have we?

And then there’s the fact that most of the dialogue is cringey and completely unnatural, which I understand it is bound to be, because the situation is unnatural, but then maybe it’s not the most brilliant choice to let the story be led by that dialogue. Although I understand why he did it, because the non-dialogue parts...

Karpagnon steeled himself and opened the door. The cold air filled his lungs. The wind rushed in the trees, and distantly there was the sound of traffic. The sky was packed with clouds but the moon peeked through.

Remind me of the way I used to write when I was about 13. I won’t go into detail on this, but just note that three sentences in a row start with “the” and the only two linkers used are “and” and “but”. For the sake of fairness, however, not all those parts are that bad.

But there’s another thing, that just made me go... What?

You see, that’s the story of the music, I always think. The Umpty-Ums, that’s the noise of the monsters. But then it goes Woo-Hoo. I think the Woo-Hoo is me riding to the rescue.”

The whole music-analogy. What does it add to the plot or the message? What does it even mean? And why, why, is it in the title?

He then proceeds to base the very last line on this same idea:

“I get very scared sometimes,” he said.

“Woo-hoo,” said the Doctor.

I think what he is trying to convey, here, is that the Doctor is riding to the rescue. But it seems so forced and strange, it reads a bit like the ending of a first draft.

To sum up, Moffat had a nice idea: He wanted to express that stories can help us through difficult times. And although he certainly isn’t the best writer with all the skills, I’m fairly convinced this could have been a touching story - were he not so insufferably arrogant. He didn’t take the time to think about how he could bring across his message in a meaningful way and instead wrote it out in a half-baked dramatic speech. Doing this, he did not consider the weight of the topic he was discussing, leading to implications that are outright insulting to people struggling with mental illness. He favoured horror over sensibility and far-fetched metaphors over a strong core, resulting in a difficult-to-read mess.

A piece of advice to all young writers (and this is more important than any other tip I’ve mentioned): Do not take your work - and yourself - too seriously and never stop trying to be better. Believe me I made this mistake too; when I was starting out, I thought I was the writer. I only started really getting better when I accepted that I wasn’t perfect; most of the time, I wasn’t even good. All art is flawed. If we accept that, we can create something beautiful.

Feel free to bring up anything to me that you disagree (or agree) with; I love discussing views and interpretations. Have a good day and stay healthy xx

#Steven Moffat #moffat #Moffat writing #the terror of the umpty ums #umpty ums #doctor who #the doctor #Steven Moffat short story #doctor who short story #dw short story #the terror of the umpty ums review #Steven Moffat review #thirteenth doctor #the 13th doctor #Jodie whittaker #literature review #literature #writing #Moffat review

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kisskissbanggang · 4 years

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@starxblossom - entirely overdue, thank you for your patience

Alright below the cut is literally just me responding to some fic feedback by my darling Rae it is just

too long

to not put under a read more so move along

Let me set the scene: I woke up entirely too late this morning, spending the previous night - more appropriately, early dawn - mourning the fact that my laptop crashed in the middle of me playing Stardew Valley. Rolling out of bed, I knew what I planned to get done today, but after such a sour night, the ball got rolling pretty late. Nevertheless, I’m more than glad to be overly-opinionated about something, if only you still want to hear what I have to say - otherwise feel free to ignore this 😂

Barely bothering with an outfit, I merely threw on my fluffy robe, slipped on the pair of glasses that I need, yet refuse, to wear more consistently, and tied my hair up in that half-effort pony tail that I only wear when I have a long day of analysing to do. By this point, I have powered through four cups of English Breakfast (because I am trying so hard to kick my coffee habits), and I’m overdue for my fifth one.

The sun sets quite fast these days; or maybe I’ve just been waking up too late. But by the time I’ve powered through most of the list - my reading device has signalled its need to be recharged so I decided to hold off on the last two on the list (Prowl and The Sabotage of Simkung House) for the following day - the sun has set and the street lamps glow orange within the misty winter evening.

I’ve always liked your writing - still very much do. And for a long time, I can admit that I was envious of how well you can write, how well you understand your characters and their motivations, and how aware you are of what’s happening in the story from start to finish. I used to punish myself for not being nearly as good as you. I say all of this not to guilt you, but to express my humbled gratitude, that you would turn to me and consistently seek out my opinion. So I tried to be constructive, not just bombard you with well-deserved praises, but also see the work objectively too.

SO let me set the scene. Over the past few months, I have sent you every single thing I write because I’m a glutton for feedback and validation, but also because I found something so touching and forward in how you found me in the first place. You came to me, said you enjoyed my work, only to find out that you’re a terrific and talented writer and human being in general in your own right? I value your take on all art so, so much, and I’ve figured I’ve been greedy on numerous occasions, but I also treasured your critique when it’s difficult to do that to a friend’s work.

So here’s where I’m at. I worked from home today, and this morning starts out fine enough until I deal with a very agitated client on the phone. I’m dour as I sip on the cold brew boba I made this morning in a fit of restless self-criticism, and check my inbox on a whim because I know I’m terrible at keeping up and see your feedback on not just one or two, but nearly EVERYTHING that you hadn’t caught up on yet.

As an added note, I also don’t wear my glasses nearly as much as I should. They spend much more time on top of my head than they should.

Now, shall we begin?

Standby

What I like most about Standby, and really all of your writings, is that it often calls to question, something of a moral dilemma. In Standby, the dilemma is clear, ‘is love allowed to exist in the professional work environment?’, but not just that, there’s also the factor of Chan being an idol and MC being a staff member. Already, there are plenty layers of politics(?) at play here - public vs private, media/celebrity status, gender inequality, etc. Looking over my notes [yes, I wrote physical notes as I read each piece lmao I have too much time now that I’m on semester break], I reserve so many high praises to Standby for constructing a story well, start to finish, and for highlighting the power play effectively through their physical relationship - the sex isn’t just thrown there, it’s an intentional device to shed light to the motivations and the personalities of these characters. It’s not just porn with plot, as you sometimes jokingly claim your writings to be, it’s porn and plot. I’d say other examples of this would be the Keep Away and Asking For It series.

Playing on this same idea, I’m very fond of Chan and MC’s dynamic - the naive and the hyper-anxious, or better, the idealist and the realist. We’ve all been both at some point in our relationships, so I feel like it’s almost too easy to empathise with both, especially when the stakes are so goddamn high. And because these characters are so fleshed out - as in we understand what’s in it for them - every action and every progression in the story makes complete sense. Every twist has a logical resolution as a result of the reader being able to understand who the characters are.

In saying this, I don’t know if it’s only because I didn’t re-read everything from the start, but I would love to know exactly why Chan’s in love with the MC, or why he thinks he is. Their relationship is so circumstantial(?), that one could easily strike Chan out as merely delusional. I think there could’ve been some really interesting storyline about his vulnerabilities as an idealist with such a demanding occupation, or that despite being human his job doesn’t allow him to make mistakes. Perhaps that’s just the pessimist in me refusing to believe he could simply be so ardently in love with the MC in other areas besides their physical romance, but I would’ve loved to see you make room for more emotional confrontations - put the reader right in the thick mud of it all!

Oh, and before I forget: HyunJae! Best side character I’ve read in a fic in a long while. Well developed and contributed to the story in so many, almost blink and you’ll miss it, ways. I especially love the gradual development of her relationship, going from mentor, to sisterly, to borderline parental. And that line about humanising her in the same way as when you first realise your parent is only human too - genius !!

Your points here on Chan’s development is so entirely valid and a great critique to point out. His motives aren’t fleshed out, and we can blame MC’s lack of seeking that out, but I know it’s really on me. If I dig in, I know I originally wanted Chan to find someone who was efficient and professional he was, but even more in control without being as controlling as other people in his life. She challenges him and keeps him on track when he’s very much in that position with his members on a regular basis. He feels comfortable with MC because he feels he’s seen a side of her she doesn’t really show much, and she’s willing to break those walls down to let him in and that really intrigues him and lights his fire, while also encouraging him to let someone else be in charge when he take a break from being leader for a little bit.

And Hyunjae is best girl. She was so fun to write, and I knew right away she needed a solid arc. It’s heartbreaking to feel like you outgrew a mentor, but if you’re lucky they can still be dear to you in some way.

Young Wings

When you said you wrote Young Wings with me in mind, I was more nervous than I was excited; what could possibly warrant such a level of affection? As an unfortunate result, I read this piece while constantly digging for the answer. Does she think I’d make a good stewardess? Am I this skeptical of cute boys? Oh my God did the pilot just die?! Anyhow, I kept being pleasantly surprised as the story progressed, as the characters are stripped back layer by layer, until they’re both literally naked. And soon enough, I figured out why you said you wrote this story with me in mind. You once mentioned - and I’m gravely paraphrasing here - that you saw me as a romantic, maybe even a hopeless one. I refused to believe the title, convincing myself that I have such a hardened heart [despite loving rom-com’s to a fault]. But no, you’re absolutely right, I’m an absolute sucker for romance. And Young Wings has such a beautiful high, a very warm glow of romance emanating from the two characters. They’re very human, very easy to like. And even though it employs a character dynamic of one being professionally above the other (like in Standby, Chan’s job is clearly a lot more essential that MC’s), it’s a softer approach, in a lot better lighting - Also, tangent, but thank you for addressing sexism in the Flight Attendant industry!

And I can’t not point out this heartwarming quote:

“The terrifying thing no one told us growing up was that finding your ‘thing’ isn’t a finish line. It’s not like you find it and that’s it. A lot of times it’s more like goalposts. You have to keep passing them and sometimes there’s never a finish line, but you love it and that’s what matters.”

I’m not an active stan of Stray Kids, nor an active stan of Chan. But I very much fell in love with him in this piece!

I forgot what, exactly, was the precise impetus for having you in mind when writing this (aside from your astute recollection of my labeling you a hopeless romantic) and now I remembered! I believe at the time I wrote it you were going through a period of cold feet around school and a career path and general restlessness and apprehension that I remembered regularly suffering through when I was in school. In my own way, I woke up one day and didn’t feel at home in the skies anymore like the MC does. I keep three or four drafts going simultaneously at almost all times, so here I believe I was wrestling with Prowl pt. 3 and feeling a bit harried on the feelings there. I usually end up pivoting to a project with compared or contrasted feelings, so this is the warmth to Prowl’s cold. And you would make a cute flight attendant for what it’s worth.

To Those Who Wait

I’m not gonna lie, I thought this was set up to be a rom-com of sorts, I really did not think this would take such a tense turn. I really like the premise! Again, it’s such an interesting moral dilemma, having to choose between being stubborn or taking the high ground. Perhaps it was in how well the narrative is set up, that I, too, kept waiting for the curtain to be pulled and for Changbin to reveal some underlying plan. I was antsy, and nervous. And as a result, I really didn’t expect the oncoming series of events - I seldom read the warning labels, especially when I trust the writer and I know what kind of content I can expect from them. But this one really did take me by surprise. I love that, in revising the story, it really was all hinted from the beginning - the power play was clear from the moment the MC was introduced as this ball-busting office worker, and Changbin as the polite and reserved assistant - but I was so invested in hunting down the truth, and being disarmed by Changbin’s sickly sweet performance, that I completely missed the underlying motives of their actions/reactions. I also seemed to have made a note about wanting to see more of Changbin’s submissive nature through real life interactions - ie. he had never taken the train before, so in this situation, he was being guided by the MC - but I think that reaches too far over the line of where you intended to put/write this relationship; it’s more of a personal preference really. Anyhow, this was a thrilling read from start to finish - underlined by the fact that Changbin is my fave in Stray Kids ><

A CHANGBIN STAN WE LOVE TO SEE IT. I fell head over heels for Changbin’s IRL rich kid upbringing, like he really did come from this cushy background and he’s still so talented and capable, and I wanted a fun scenario to plant that into. Funny and thrilling was truly where I wanted it, and I do have this projected as a series to really explore this relationship and what, exactly, these two characters are waiting for. And I’m glad you were caught by Changbin’s reveal! It had to be something he was truly ashamed of and that MC would be bitter about for years but could ultimately forgive.

What You Don’t Know

Funnily enough, my first note is that this reminds me a lot of a friendship I had with someone. Even from the way it began - the unbelievably clever line: It’s not like you hated Jisung when you met him. It wasn’t like you liked him, either. Really, you didn’t anything Jisung - with Jisung and the MC going from strangers, to friends, to questionably more than friends. The bloom of their interactions reads so organically -probably because it mirrors my own experiences- even down to Stephanie’s interference. I really do like this one for a lot of reasons: it’s my favourite AU, it’s a setting that is real to me therefore I can vividly feel everything, and the stakes of the relationship aren’t so dire that it makes the pining so much worse, because you can’t justify the jealousy properly. And the dialogues between Jisung and the MC also reads so realistic, it’s not stiff nor vague. It cleverly reflects the stages of their familiarity, from unsure and stilted to playfully affectionate - this is why I’m so especially fond of the first time she tugs his hair, the tense change in the air, asking you if they just crossed a line or simply made the natural progression in their very fond relationship. ( Also don’t think that scene with MC and Chan in the car is just going to fly over my head missy, I need to know the history there! ) I like this for a multitude of reasons, all of which are deeply influenced by the fact that I’ve been in the MC’s exact shoes. The only difference being that I did not sleep with that friend, and his Stephanie made us stop talking to each other. Otherwise, this story made me squeal, 10/10 for realism!

Yes! Who doesn’t love a college au? They’re so easy to retreat back to. I was literally inspired by a joke in Scrubs (“I nothing you” is the line there) and built an entire scenario around that. The sub argument is an infamous embarrassing moment for me where I did, repeatedly, label one of our friends as a sub and definitely definitely definitely thought of how easy it’d be to prove it like the MC does and NOW IT’S WEIRD WHEN HE CALLS MY PARTNER TO HANG OUT ON THE PHONE ALL THE TIME. I think we’ve all had to deal with a Stephanie (I certainly have) but I hate that yours drove you away! I always thought this scenario was a little universal, but I didn’t expect it to be to that extent. Also, don’t worry, the Chan story gets explained down the line.

Au Pair

I cannot stress this enough, but I love this!! The premise reads like a telenovela, with a quiet tension that can only be found when a scene is handled as expertly as you have. As a result, from the get go, I think I was just waiting for the trouble to kick in. I thought it would hit during the pool scene, or perhaps even the dining room scene when Carson refuses his food. But what I didn’t expect was for the first kick to not even include the MC, but rather just be something that she observed - classic telenovela ! I re-read that paragraph thrice because my jaw dropped. I knew something bad was going to happen, but I really didn’t expect it to be that! I know you wrote is as a oneshot, but I really would love to read more of this. I feel like it could have been fleshed out a bit more, really unpack the characters and their motives. I feel like I’m just getting a taster of something amazing here, something really dramatic and jaw-dropping. I’d also love to see things from Carson’s perspective somehow too! Something I’ve picked up during my babysitting days, very young children tend to subconsciously reflect a lot of a family’s conflicts. Carson is obviously smart, but he’s also a kid, and in a family structure like that with - as you said - a rotation of authority figures, I feel like he could have a lot to contribute, especially as a narrative device! Also I love your choice of mystery member! I think it makes complete sense, I really couldn’t see anyone else for the role, he’s a very fitting choice! I’m obviously fond of this one, it got me really invested, and - I’m not meaning this in a demanding way - I only wish I could read more of it.

A telenovella I LIVE. I guess growing up with Days of Our Lives paid off. This is one of those readings I never expected but I’m thriving off of. I love a good turn of a character feeling like they’ve exposed themselves as a fool, and I’m glad it read well here. Carson IS smart and I love that idea of his perspective. At one point I did picture a small epilogue where Miranda steps up to the plate while the Mystery Member and MC run away and start a new life in San Francisco where he becomes head chef of a trendy fusion restaurant.

Exposure

This made me incredibly nervous in the same way Surreptitious made my hands clammy. Because not only am I (a) a photographer who (b) will pass as a child given the right outfit and mannerisms, but © I know what it’s like to be asked to give up your artistic integrity in exchange for money or exposure (ba dum tsss). So this hits home a little too hard, especially that you made Doyoung the photographic subject rip. But I really really like this one too! It was thrilling in the ways I least expected it to be, this undercover adventure of being a paparazzi, and the active use of disguises to reflect an outward character that Jungwoo has the pleasure of, well, pleasuring himself to - which I think is what makes her last outfit in the story, the black ensemble, all the more interesting!

I also love seeing Jungwoo portrayed this way, that you didn’t entirely sacrifice his disarmingly innocent aura, but you also gave him a devilish streak - so faithful to how I personally imagine him. It’s a wonderful balance that kind of perfectly hits the middle ground, and makes him such an interesting and almost unpredictable character. And I love the MC in this, that she has an inner integrity that is undercut by the way she dresses as these multiple characters throughout the story - I think two two characters compliment each other well. She outwardly presents dynamism, while Jungwoo represents it more inwardly. So when they come together, it’s so masterful and I cannot peel my eyes away from them. I also really like that you didn’t make either one a dom or a sub, which only speaks so much more to that dynamic previously mentioned. It works so especially well, given what we know about these characters, and the non-stakes of their story arcs. I want to see more of this, but I’d also be really satisfied with where it ends. It leaves such a well-rounded note of camaraderie between the two characters, that in my head, I’m rooting for them to somehow end up together.

I felt like I entirely punted this one across the finish line so I am FLOORED by your reading and response. I wanted to try something a little different and felt so, SO self-conscious the whole time I was convinced it showed, so I’m honesty surprised it was effective. I’ve had my own experiences as well with lying to get a job done, but my biggest goal was to challenge the Jungwoo Innocent Baby Boy narrative that the fandom likes to feed into, so I’m VERY glad that was effective.

I just realised that this is now over 2k long, so it’s a good thing that I’m finishing here. Like I said earlier, I’ll be venturing to read Prowl and The Sabotage of Simkung House tomorrow, so expect to hear from me again soon. Otherwise have a good night, or morning, depending when you read this, and thank you for writing such wonderful stories! Truly, you continue to impress me as a writer, and I’m humbled to be your friend.

So by the end of my first reading of these notes, I was pretty much in tears because I loved that you took the time to do this, to read my work that you are not obligated to and give me feedback that I am not entitled to. I love you to bits, Rae, and it stuns me that I found a friend on the other side of the sunset that I feel like I can confide in and look to for guidance. I hope you know how much you shine. ❤️

#FEEDBACK #OH MY GOD RAE #starxblossom #my children #submission

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chimmysoftpaws · 5 years

Text

Business and Pleasure

Summary; In which OC (Ophelia) meets her charming King. Will she be able to move past her independent mindset and fall in love? Or will the past create a rift between need and want?

Characters : OC Ophelia Odinsdottir x Medieval!King Bucky

Word count : 7800

Warnings: some fluff and interruptions

A/N: this is for @waiting4inspiration 2k writing challenge. Congrats on the milestone. Can’t wait till you achieve more. You’re writing is a amazing. DISCLAIMER: pls excuse the way it’s written and the random paragraphs. I had to find a way to make everything fit cause tumblr is a bioch. The full version is on my wattpad page 🙈

Today was the day. The day our guests would be arriving for the ’Grand Celebration’ in 5 days. At least, that's what the people think. The Royals know better. We know the real reason as to why all the Leaders and Generals of every Kingdom are here. There is a threat that wishes to take over these lands, a threat that was defeated a long time ago. For centuries we have lived in peace, now the threat of Hydra stands in the way of between us and normality.

Mother forced us to accompany Father in the Throne Room to await our guest's arrival. Loki and Thor looked irritated to be standing all evening while Hela and I enjoyed our time, conversing with Valkyrie and Lady Sif. “So Ophelia, did you find your husband in the debriefing?” Hela asked, referring to the discussion our parents sat us through regarding who will be wandering our castle. I rolled my eyes and replied, “No. None of them fit my criteria.” . “I beg to differ. If I recall correctly you were staring at a particular King.” Valkyrie added to the conversation. Lady Sif raised her eyebrows and queried, “Really, who?” “Well, it’s rather obvious isn’t it. There is only one King who is not married and that is - “. “That’s enough all of you.” I bellowed, feeling my cheeks heat up. “Is that why you’re wearing such a lovely dress, sister?” Hela interrogated, running her hand down the side of my dress. Mother and I chose a lovely satin dress with a slit in the front. It was loose with an elegant design on the chest area. “It’s a simple blue dress and I did not choose it, Mother did.”

“Her objective was to make you look ravishing for King - “ Thankfully Hela was cut off by the sound of the welcoming horns. Mother hushed us and commanded we get into positions. The doors to the Throne Room opened and one by one our guests shuffled in as their names were announced. My feet started cramping as the line of guests seemed endless. Loki glanced at me and smirked, lightly grabbing my arm and looping it through his arm. I smiled and turned back to the guests as the name-calling finally stopped. Father stood up from his throne and greeted his guests. “Welcome to Asgard. As King, I would like to welcome you on behalf of my people. I hope that your stay will be pleasant and that, when you leave this palace, we may all have found peace.” Our guests clapped and cheered at Fathers words. “Your rooms have been assigned and our attendants will show you to them. Know that all our services and vicinities are open to you. Our meetings will commence after dinner.” Our guests cheered once more and many dispersed leaving the Kings and Queens behind. I rushed down the stairs and tackled Wanda into a hug. She giggled and hugged me back saying, “Well, hello to you too.”. “I missed you. Its been months since we’ve seen each other.”. “Is she the only one you missed?” I excitedly turned around to see Nat walking towards me with her arms open. I rushed to her and hugged her. “I didn’t know you were King Steve’s right-hand WOMEN.”. “I wanted to surprise you.” She replied. “Consider me surprised.” I confessed.

“So they're the only ones you missed? I’m hurt, Princess.” I turned around to find Tony Stark looking at me with a fake hurt expression. I smiled and hugged him dramatically. “Tony, you know you’re my favourite,” I said after our long hug. I turned to Pepper and greeted her. She was never one to get involved in these things so it was refreshing to see her. “And this must be Morgan. She’s gone so big.” I waved to the seven-year-old. She hid behind her mother and smiled shyly. I smiled and continued to go around, hugging and greeting everyone. It was nice to see them again even if it was due to negative circumstances. My favourite group was definitely The Guardians. They were so diverse and did not have the right etiquette around Royals. It was entertaining to watch Mothers expression and Thor secret laughs. The last person I greeted was Steve. He smiled brightly and kissed my hand, such a gentleman. “You know that isn’t necessary, Steve.” . “I know.” Steve responded with a smile. “Yea. As far as we know, you have a wife.” Sam Wilson said, walking towards us with his King in tow. I curiously watched as he quietly observed the area. He has long brown hair, captivating blue eyes and a light beard. His face was hard yet his deep in his eyes showed slight emotion. His eyes were hard and his posture stiff. He was constantly on guard, ready for any surprises. Must be the soldier in him. “I do. I’m just polite.” Steve replied. “Ophelia, I’m assuming you’ve met Sam and this is his King and my best friend, James.” Steve introduced me to his best friends. I smiled at Sam, already knowing him after his many encounters in Asgard with my personal guard, Vision. I turned to James and greeted with a curtsy. “Good evening, King James.” . “Oh, we didn’t get such a greeting.” Sam joked. I watched James give him a look before bowing and muttering a reply. “Bucky.”

“Excuse me?” I replied. “Everyone calls me Bucky. I’m not a fan of the title.” I smiled and responded, “Well that makes two of us, Bucky.” He gave me a light smile and voice, “Shall we, Ophelia.” He held out his arm for me to take. I smiled and gently looped my hand through his, allowing him to lead me to the garden where everyone was seated for dinner. This is going to be an interesting time.

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

The day before the ball.

I woke up to knocking on my door. I groaned and prayed it would disappear but it only grew louder. I tried covering my face with my pillow in hopes that it would with the headache it was giving me. I stayed up all night with Wanda, Jane, Mantis, and Shuri while everyone else was discussing the Hydra threat. I got to know everyone a bit more in terms of their passions and relations. It was a rather interesting night. Mantis is... strange but in a fascinating way, Jane loves stars - and Thor-, Wanda can’t stop mentioning Vision and all of them are convinced Bucky has a crush on me and me him. Is that true? Frankly, I don’t know. It’s been a flirtatious few days but nothing more. My days had significantly grown more interesting with his presence. We’d always be miraculously seated next to each other in every meeting - the works of Mother, Hela, Nat, Sam and Wanda. He was quiet during the meetings, speaking only when spoken to, and he was always attentive, eyes analysing everyone’s expressions and actions. Outside the meetings was a different story. I’d spot him in the garden, admiring the different flowers and creatures and watching the children play in the streets from the terrace. I enjoyed talking to him. He was calm, always open to learning new things. I spent days discussing Asgard’s architecture and history. I asked about his Kingdom and he explained that it still held the infamous aura of Hydra but things were brightening. He was sweet and very charming, whether he was doing it intentionally or not, was a mystery to me. I was very good at reading people by their eyes -courtesy of Mother - but he was extremely difficult to look at without blushing, let alone read.

“YOUR MAJESTY IT IS TIME TO WAKE UP! THE SUN IS SHINING AND THE BIRDS ARE SINGING AND YOU SHOULD BE TOO!” Hela shouted, storming into my room. I heard groans on the floor and peaked down. Everyone was cuddled up in their pillows and satin sheets, miserable at Hela’s noise. “Not now sister. You’re being a terrible host.” I groaned as she pulled open my heavy curtains. “This is not my house so, frankly, I don’t care,” Hela replied, plonking onto my couch as everyone woke up. “Breakfast will be served in an hour and you have entertaining to do.” The three ladies on the floor groaned and dragged themselves out the room while I thanked them for the night. I hopped to my bathroom, happy to see the bath full of steaming water. I sunk in and bathed, making sure everything was clean before jumping out. I hummed a tune I heard playing in the streets last night as people gathered the music for the Ball tomorrow while changing into an outfit picked by my sister. “I see you’ve chosen this.” I pointed to the three quarter, velvet green dress. It was plain and easy to move around. She topped it with a short, black heel.

“Well, you’ll thank me later. Mother and Father have got quite a lot to do today and they’ll need your help.” I laughed and fixed my hair into a half updo and followed Hela out. We walked to the Dining Hall for breakfast. “Have you seen Vision yet?” I asked. I hadn’t seen my personal guard since our guests arrived. I missed his odd persona. “He, along with everyone else, is at breakfast. You’re last.” Hela replied. I blushed. Father is not going to be happy. We strolled into the hall as everyone sat and enjoyed breakfast. Father was speaking to Mother on one end of the table. Thor was with his friends - The Avengers as he called them - on the other end. Loki was conversing with Nebula. Not the safest thing. The Guardians were having their own conversation. Fury was with Carol and Maria. I walked to the empty seat next to Wanda across Bucky and Sam. They were listening to a story Thor, Steve and Tony were trying to tell. Something about the woods and trees being destroyed. Loki smirked every now and then, adding comments about what he saw in this tale. I felt Hela push me out the way and sit next to Wanda. I glared at her while she smirked and Wanda snickered. I sighed and walked to the last remaining seat, next to Bucky.“Good Morning,” I said, sitting as my attendant brought me my dish. I thanked her and picked up my utensils. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Sam replied. Bucky gave him a look before greeting me as well. “We really need to sort it your tone towards the Princess” I chuckled and stated, “Don’t worry Bucky. Sam’s a friend.” Sam smiled and raised his glass. Bucky rolled his eyes and added, “Still shouldn’t talk to you like that.” Wanda looked at me and smiled. I looked back confused. Both she and Hela raised their eyebrows and snickered. “Am I missing something?” I asked. “Nothing sister.” Hela smirked

“So Bucky, are you excited for the Ball?” Wanda asked, trying to start a conversation. “Well not really. I feel like it’ll distract us from the mission.” Hela groaned. “He’s definitely a King. They never lighten up.” . “Well, he has a point Hela. Imagine how Tony will act tomorrow night.” I voiced. “Weren’t you the one most excited for this?” Sam questioned. “Well, Sam. Ophelia just knows how to separate business from pleasure.” Bucky defended. I smiled as he winked. “Aww, you two are adorable,” Nat stated from her end of the table. Everyone suddenly stopped and listened. “Like a married couple,” Valkyrie shouted from the other end. I shot my head in her direction and gave her a look that would have her wishing she was part of the chair. “I told you, Steve,” Peggy added. “Who’s married?” Thor asked. “I called it,” Scott added.

“You owe me 20 Rhodes,” Tony said happily as Rhodes groaned. My eyes widened as my cheeks felt hot. Bucky was clenching the fork and I noticed red on his face. “This is what I was telling you,” Mantis said. “Aww, young love,” Carol added with a laugh. “Sister, I had no idea.” Loki gasped sarcastically. I quickly got up and left the hall, having lost my appetite. I didn’t look back to see Bucky following me out.

~~~~~~~~~~

The whole day I avoided Bucky. Every time I saw him, I turned the other way. I was embarrassed by everyone’s assumptions of our relationship. We were just friends, nothing more. I busied myself with preparations the entire day, making sure to isolate myself from everyone as much as possible. The sun was setting and I was running out of things to do. Wanda and Nat had already found me and declared apologies on everyone’s behalf. They also said that Bucky was miserable because he hadn’t seen me and he felt guilty. I frowned at the thought of his unhappy face. He didn’t do anything wrong, we just have a bad choice in friends. I sighed and wondered about the halls. I was bored out of my mind, only looking forward to the night as we would be having another girls night. I forgave everyone but was not ready to face the music just yet. I turned to a corridor to see Bucky walking out of his room towards me. He looked up and his eyes brightened as they saw me. I quickly turned around, pretending not to see him but he stopped me by shouting, “Ophelia, wait!” I sighed and turned back replying, “I’m sorry Bucky but I’m incredibly busy. I have to go.” I turned for the third time and tried walking away but he grabbed my arm saying, “I know that’s a lie because Nat just informed me that our presence was not needed by anyone for the rest of the night.” Bloody hell this women is asking for a death sentence. I sighed. “I’m sorry... it’s just err -“

“I know, you don’t have to explain yourself.”

“You know?”

“Yea, we have terrible friends.”

I giggled. “That’s true but they’re all we have so I guess we’re stuck with them.”

“Unfortunately. May I join you?” I hesitated. “Umm... yes of course.” What’s the worst that could happen? Bucky smiled and let go of my arm. He followed me as we wandered the castle halls. We had been doing this a lot. “I see you haven’t gotten over your fascination with the castle.” I pointed out, watching him rake his eyes over the patterns that aligned the walls. “Every time I walk, I find something new to marvel at.” He replied, glancing at me. “And some things never cease to amaze me, no matter how many times I've looked at it.” I blushed. “That’s Asgard for you. Always holding new beauties.”

“And ones that have been here all this time, hidden from the world.”

“Are we talking about the same thing?”

“I don't know, are we Princess?”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“I know but it suits you.”

“So does your title, King.”

“No, it doesn’t. I was never born to be a King.”

“Yet here you are. Ruling a land of people thought to be cursed and from what Sam has told me, you’re doing quite well.”

“I hope Sam hasn’t ruined my name, cause that’s all he seems to be doing. He can never contain his tongue.” I giggled. “It’s who Sam is.” . “Unfortunately.” Buckley smiled. He had a charming smile. White and full. It always brightened his face, his blue eyes wrinkling as he did. “Your Majesty?” “Yes?” I reacted. “You’re staring.” My eyes widened and I flushed red, great just what I needed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. I am guilty of the same.” I looked back at him and smiled.

“You were staring, at me?”

“How can I not?”

“Are you flirting with me, Your Highness?”

“No...I’m just being polite.” I nodded, not believing him. “Of course you are. You never mix business with pleasure.”

“I try not to. You’ve proved that to be quite difficult.”

“Have I? I apologise.” I flushed at his words. We stopped near one of the biggest terraces in the castle. It overlooked all of Asgard and further. The world was dark, the land filled with light from peoples homes. I walked outside and looked at the view. The stars shone despite its competition with the artificial light. “It really is beautiful.” “Yes, it is.” I turned to Bucky to find him already looking at me. I smiled as the wind picked up. Bucky tucked a piece of my blonde hair behind my hair and turned to the view before us. “What are you playing at, Barnes?” . “Last name basis is it?” I laughed at his dramatic statement. “Well if you must know, I’m differentiating the difference between pleasure and business.” He turned back to me and trialled his gloved fingers over my cheek. He only wore a glove on his left hand, wonder why? “Why do you wear one glove?” I asked, letting my mouth voice my thoughts. I watched his eyes darken before he turned away from me. “I’m sorry, I never meant to offend you. You don’t have to tell me. You are not obliged to” I rambled, not sure what to say. “It’s alright. Umm... it’s from a time in my life I wish to forget.” He left it at that. “Do you like horse rides?” I asked, desperately trying to change the subject. “I do.” He answered shortly. “Maybe we can go on one after the Ball. I’d like to see if you live up to the status as the fiercest warrior of all the land.” . “Is that what I’m known as around here?” He chuckled. “Well, it’s all Sam talks about when he comes. He goes on about how you raced though an army with just a horse and a sword, coming out unscathed.” Bucky lightly smacked his forehead and sighed. “Sam and I really need to have a talk about his dramatics.” I laughed. “So it’s not true?”

“It’s true but I didn’t come out of it unscathed. My horse was worse.”

“Your horse?”

“Yes, Starr. She’s a beauty but she’s very fierce. She doesn’t like people.”

“You two must be best friends.”

Bucky laughed quietly. “She’s in one of your stables. I can show her to you.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Anything for the princess.” I rolled my eyes at his sentence. “Do not do that.”Bucky smirked, “Do what love?” I shook my head and headed inside towards the stairs that would take us to the stables. Bucky jogged to catch up to me. “How do you walk so fast?”

“Years of practice in heels.”

“They are beautiful, as is your dress. It complements your transfixing eyes.”

I blushed, again. “My sisters work.”

“She has good taste but I doubt she could make such a dress look this beautiful on herself.”

“You don’t want her to hear that from you. She’ll kill you in your sleep.”

“I would say it to her face a thousand times if it means I see those gorgeous cheeks blush.” . “Bucky!” I stopped abruptly causing him to knock into me. I stumbled, tripping over my feet. I squealed as I fell towards the stairs. Bucky grabbed my waist and pulled me so that my back was to the wall and face flushed against his chest. “Are you alright?” He whispered as if out of breath. “Yes. Thank you.” I whispered back, clutching his shirt. I looked up, into his ocean orbs and smiled lightly. Bucky smiled back and let his right-hand trail through my hair, that had somehow come out of its updo, and down to my chin. I closed my eyes and as his thumb traced my bottomed lip. I bit my lip and opened my eyes to find his face closer. It was as if the world around us didn’t exist. All I could hear was his soft breathing and see his beautiful face. I glanced at his rosy lips before looking into his eyes again. I leant closer and watched as Bucky followed suit. Before I could feel his soft lips touch mine, a cough interrupted us. We quickly looked to the stairs to find Nat, Carol, Steve, Thor and Tony looking at us with huge smiles. “I told you they were up to no good,” Tony said with a giggle. I froze and stared at Thor who laughed behind the rest. Nat smirked at the two of us and said, “Let’s leave them to their... business.” “No no. Pleasure Nat. As you heard at breakfast, these two don’t mix business and pleasure.” Tony added. Carol and Steve laughed silently. It was as if his words spread through the rest of the castle because Wanda and Clint suddenly appeared with Sam and Rhodey in tow. “Aww, yea man. I knew it would happen.” Sam shouted to Bucky. Bucky groaned and hid his face in my neck. I giggled and pushed him away slightly. “Did we miss something?” Loki came around with Hela. “Sister was making out with the Soldier.” Thor's voice boomed through the already formed group. “Finally,” Hela said.

“Yes, you two were taking quite long.”

“I expected it to happen on day one.” I looked at my siblings with a shocked expression. “Alright, let's leave them alone.” Steve walked towards Bucky and smacked his shoulder. “But they’re right, you did take long bud.” Bucky huffed and pulled me away from everyone as they cheered for us. “Don’t forget about tonight, O!’ Wanda clapped. “That is if he doesn’t keep you occupied!” Carol added. “Not that we mind, we don’t,” Peggy stated. I picked up the paced, wanting to get as far away from them. Once we were near my room I stopped. “I’m sorry.” We both said simultaneously. We laughed as Bucky pulled me towards the opening. I sat on the ledge and sighed, “This has been the most embarrassing moment of my life.” “Honestly I’ve had worse. Bear in mind, Sam is my friend.” I giggled as Bucky walked towards me, his hand on my mine. “It was fun though.” “It was but I’m assuming you’re needed in your room. You don’t want to be keeping the ladies waiting.” I sighed and pouted. “I don’t think they deserve my presence. What will you do?” Bucky chuckled. “Knowing MY friends, we’ll probably be out drinking our hearts away.” I shook my head. “Men.” I hopped off the windowsill and grabbed Bucky’s hands. “I guess this is goodbye for now.” . “For now.” I walked in the opposite direction of Bucky, our hands lingering together. I turned to him while he stared at me with those adorable puppy eyes. I got on my toes and pecked his cheek, letting my lips linger for a second longer. I could feel his check spread with a warmth. “Goodnight.”

“...Goodnight.”

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

Bucky's P.O.V

I watched as Ophelia walked away from me, her beautiful green dress swaying with her hips as her heels clicked against the floor. Her hair flowed in the direction of the wind, her scent coming towards me. I bit my lip as I touched my cheek, still feeling her lips on me. I felt a smile spread on my face as she disappeared from my view and turned to find Steve and the other men. I found them outside with their horses. I saw Starr and took her reins, walking towards Steve. “Ah, lover boy is here,” Sam said. “Finally, though I thought you’d last longer,” Tony stated. “Tony that’s not necessary.” Steve reprimanded. “Yes, that’s my sister you’re talking about,” Thor said, cracking his knuckles. “We didn’t do anything if that’s what you’re all wondering. We just talked.” . “Yes, very intimate conversations,” Loki said with a smirk. “Well, let’s head out, the night does not last forever.” Vision said, getting upon his horse. Everyone else cheered and followed suit. I got upon my horse and thanked Vision. He replied with a smile and lead the party of men to the bar where we could take the opportunity to let go before the big day tomorrow yet no matter how much I drank, I could not forget those grey-blue eyes and the bright, wide smile of the Princess of Asgard. Maybe everyone’s assumptions were true, maybe I have found my Queen.

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

Ophelia’s P.O.V

I walked into my room to find all the ladies lounging in my room. Looking at it, I didn’t know my room was that big. “You’re back!” Peggy said. I sighed and walked to my room to change into my white nightgown and blue robe. “Did you two have fun?” Hela asked with a glass of red wine in her hand as I sat at the edge of my bed. Wanda and Nat sat on the bed with me. Hela sat on her own couch. Carol and Valkyrie sat of the two-seated couch. Peggy and Pepper on the other across them, Jane on the windowsill cushion and Nebula, Gamora and Mantis on the fluffy carpet. “We did not do anything. We just talked.” . “I don't believe you.” Carol said with a smirk. “Well then that’s a you problem.” I snapped. “Oh lighten up, O. You guys are cute.” Nat assured. I pouted. “I think she’s upset that we interrupted them.” Wanda added. “Am not!” I whined. “You so are.” Jane giggled. “Can we please change the subject.” I pleaded. “No! We want to know more about your intimacy with the Soldier.” Gamora said. Everyone nodded, agreeing with her. “Nothing. We’ve been talking. THAT’S ALL.”

“Well what is he like?” Pepper asked.

“You know what he's like.”

“Oh please sister. Every man acts different with the one he loves and his friends.”

“He loves you? Oh joy! You’re babies will be beautiful.” Mantis gushed. I blushed at her words. “He does not love me.” . “You don't know that.” Val said. “He’s a man. They are terrible when it comes to sharing emotions.” . “Where’s Okoye and Shuri?” I said, desperately trying to change the subject. “Shuri is very tired from todays activities and Okoye is doing guard business. She didn’t want to go away from her duties. Now don't change the subject.” Nat said as the tray of various foods came towards me. I grabbed three chocolate cookies and a glass of wine from the centre table. “I swear we didn’t do anything.” . “Fine we believe you. Now tell us what the famous Winter Soldier is like?” Jane asked. “Fine but after that we go to something else.” . “Promise.” Wanda said. I sighed. “He’s... dreamy.” The girls laughed as I glowed. “He’s kind and charming. He’s always complimenting me and always makes sure I’m comfortable. He’s curious, always asking me about Asgard and our family.” “Did you tell him the truth?” Hela asked.

“Yes. I did. Anyways, we just got to know each other. I promised to take him on a ride through Asgard’s forest.” . “Look at you making the first move.” Val cheered. I giggled. “What about the kiss?” Mantis asked. “Was it satisfactory?” Nebula spoke for the first time. I smiled. “We did not kiss because Natasha interrupted us.” . “NAT!” Peggy and Pepper groaned.

“It was unintentional, I swear.”

“Can we move on now - “

“No. Did you kiss him anywhere else?” Hela pressed.

“.... maybe.”

“HAH, YOU DID.” Wanda jumped on my bed, almost dropping my glass. “Hey, these covers we’re expensive.” Wanda sat, blushing. “To end this torture, I did kiss him BUT only on the cheek. That’s it.” Everyone awed and began complimenting me on our cuteness and Mantis continuously spoke of our future children. “Okay I get it. Now I have a question.” Everyone quietened as they waited for me to ask my question. “Does everyone know that Wanda has been snogging Vision since we got here?” Wanda squealed and tried tackling me but it because was too late. Everyone broke out into a series of shouts in shock. I smiled as she went as red as her nightgown. “Is that who you’re going with tomorrow night?” Hela asked. I nodded for her as she tried smacking my head. I giggled and caught her arm. “Well... who are you all going with?” Wanda mumbled. Everyone tired speaking at once but I quickly hushed them as to not wake the whole castle up. “We all know who’s going with who. Peggy and Steve.” Peggy smiled at the mention of her husband. “Pepper and Tony.” Pepper rolled her eyes playfully. “Nat and Bruce.” . “Why would you think that?” Nat asked, trying to play dumb. “Oh please Natasha, we’ve seen you and the shy boy.” Hela said laughing. “All sheepish glances and stolen kisses.” Nat blushed and grabbed a new bottle of wine. I laughed as she poured a full glass and continued. “Jane and Thor as they have also been snogging ever since she got here.” Jane blushed and chucked a pillow at me. “How would you know?” . “I have eyes and ears everywhere. This is my castle, the secret passages are everywhere.” Jane sighed as if giving up with this conversation. “Oh and Gamora is being accompanied by Peter Quill.” Gamora’s eyes shot to me in anger. “How would you know?” . “Your sister told Loki who told me. Never trust Loki to keep secrets from me.” Gamora looked at her sister and tackled her to the floor, her hands around her neck. I gasped as Val and Carol tried to pull them apart. Hela laughed and Peggy and Pepper tried to calm the situation down with their Queen words of wisdoms. After 10 minutes of shouting, laughing, fists and Wanda, Mantis and I sitting on my bed, munching on goods, things calmed down. “Is everyone calm?” Peggy asked. She was met with silence. “Good, now let’s all breath and continue to relax. Nat, hand them a cup of wine to calm the fire in them.” Everything calmed down from there. “Its the sister in them, isn’t that right O.” I nodded, agreeing with Hela. “We fought like crazy.”

“You almost threw me off a bridge.”

“You were being a brat.”

“I was 8.”

“And you were a terrible 8-year-old.” I chucked my book at Hela. Before she could throw her heel at me, Pepper shouted, “That’s enough! There will be no more sister squabble.” Hela and I rolled our eyes and smirked. “She doesn’t understand.” Gamora and Nebula smirked as well. “Anyways back to the dates.” Jane said, trying to move the conversation back to where we left off. “Yes. Hela, Mantis, Nebula, Carol, Valkyrie and I are going alone.” I continued. “I know Mantis, Nebula and I are but Carol and Valkyrie have had other plans...together.” Hela said as the two blushed and glanced at each other. I smiled widely as Hela continued. “And you sister, you’re going with Barnes.”

“He didn’t ask me.”

“He doesn’t have to. He’s a man remember. They’re not good at expressing their emotions.”

“You really think he wants to go with me?”

“Of course he does. If he doesn’t, we’ll make an example out of him.” Gamora said. I laughed and thanked her. “But if he is in love with you then he will want more than for you to just be his date tomorrow. He would want you to be his Queen.” Mantis voiced. I choked on my wine as everyone nodded their heads. “It is very obvious. He is not good at hiding his feelings for you.” Nebula added.

“Umm...”

“Better start thinking about marriage sister.”

“At least Father gets his wish.”

“To hell with Father. This is for you. Do you wish to marry him?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far.”

“You’ll have to if you want to be ready when he pops the big question and he just might, at any time. Remember, he’s a man therefore he also has terrible timing.” Everyone laughed at Hela’s statement in agreement and continued to drown themselves in wine and food. Tonight was going to serve us all a huge headache.

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

The Night of the Ball.

“Ophelia, may I come in?” I heard from the other side of the door. I had been in my room since after lunch, preparing for the Ball. Frankly, this was not my choice but Mother wanted me - and my brothers - to look perfect. I smiled, remembering Thor and Loki’s groans of complaints as Mother forced us into our rooms to get ready. I had been in here for 4 hours washing and making sure every cell was spotless. My nails were a Livid Colour, to match my dress. My hair had been curled and styled to Mothers liking. Thank the Gods we had a similar taste in clothing and hair or things would’ve much more difficult. “Come in.” Wanda and Nat walked into my room with random gowns on. Attendants walked behind them carrying their gowns, shoes and jewellery for the night. The door closed and they took off their gowns replacing them with silk robes. “You two seem excited.”

“I just want to get drunk.”

“I can’t wait to dance.”

“You guys do realise we are not going to be allowed to ‘have fun’. We have responsibilities.”

“Our responsibilities won’t take all night,” Nat said taking a seat of the single couch and stretching. “Besides, I didn’t get this pretty for nothing.” Wanda nodded in agreement. “What time are we meant to be down?” I asked. “In 2 hours.” Nat answered. “Great.” I walked to my bed, where Wanda was sitting with her nail filer and pulled out my book. “Are we just going to sit here for 2 hours?” Wanda asked. I nodded, turning the page. “Absolutely not.” Nat interrupted. “We have to get ready. I have to do your make up Ophelia and your hair Wanda AND we still have to get dressed and be downstairs, ready when the doors open to the civilians. That will take 2 hours. So let’s begin.” Nat pulled Wanda to my vanity table and began doing her hair. I glanced up every now and then to see Wanda’s hair being pulled in different directions and Nat using strange products. “Done.” Wanda walked got up with a smile and hugged Nat, thanking her for her magical hands. “You’re turn.” She said, taking my place on the bed as I moved to the vanity table. Nat stared at my face for 10 minutes before pulling out various brushes, powders and shades of different colours and began touching my face with different objects. 20 minutes later my face was done. I turned to the mirror and gleamed. My face was a canvas of perfection. I giggled and hugged Nat. “I look... extraordinary. Thank you, Nat.” . “Oh darling, it was no problem. I want to make sure Barnes doesn't take his eyes off you.” I blushed at her words. “Not that you need it. You’ve had Barnes wrapped around your finger since the moment you laid eyes on each other.” . “Time for dresses.” Wanda squealed, pulling her dress out. Her dress as red - her signature colour - with a dip in the front as it flared to the ground. The dress was decorated with leaves from the top and spread to the middle of her dress and was matched with black high heels. “Wanda, if your objective was to captivate Vision, then you, my friend, have succeeded,” I said as she walked to my folding screen to get dressed. “Nat, let me see yours,” Nat smirked and pulled out a sexy black dress. It was satin as if started at her breasts with a slit that runs to her mid-thigh and topped with a belt at her waist. It was paired with red heels “Nat this stunning.” . “Yes, now let's see your dress princess.” I smiled shyly and asked to my closet, grabbing my dress and laying it out on the bed. Nat gasped. “It’s gorgeous.”

“What? What did I miss?” Wanda asked, stumbling towards us. She smiled at my dress. “Your Mother went all out, I see.”

“She did, didn’t she. Is it too much?”

“Too much? It's just enough. You are going to be the centre of attention. This is why mothers have daughters so that they can dress them up like life-sized dolls.” Nat sat, putting the dress to my body. “Go and put it on.” I did as told, trying to keep my hair and makeup perfect, and walked back. The girls smiled as Wanda twirled me around, my dress spreading as it moved with me. Nat handed me my white heels and sprayed our skin with perfume. “I’m so excited.” I gushed as we headed to the door. I opened it to find Vision nervously pacing in his uniform. It was less constricting due to the lack of armour but still had that Asgardian touch to it. He stopped pacing once we walked out and his face was priceless. His jaw hung and his eyes wide. I followed them to none other than a blushing Wanda. “Y-You look...breathtaking.” He stuttered. “I...I mean you all do, Your Majesty, it’s just...” . “It’s alright Vision,” I said as Wanda glided towards him. They exchanged shy words while Nat and I smirked at their not-so-secret conversation. “Wanda, I know you and Vision are having a moment but we’re going to be late,” Nat stated, walking past the two of them with me in tow. I smiled as the two as they rushed to us, Vision rushing to walk in front of Nat. “M’lady, the guests have arrived and your family is waiting for your arrival to begin the... celebration.” Vision muttered while Wanda and Nat slipped into the hall. I nodded and let Vision lead me to my family. Mother stood with her foot tapping anxiously as she waited for me. “Where have you been?”

“I’m sorry Mother. Love has no track of time.”

“Just because you have a boyfriend doesn’t mean you get leeway,” Loki said with a smirk.

“It was not me.”

“We don’t have time for this. Both of you get ready.” Mother ushered us to the entrance door. Sounds and voices could be heard as we entered the room. Cheers could be heard from all directions as Father sat on his throne and Mother, Thor, Loki and I took our positions beneath him. I scanned the crowd to see to find Bucky standing near Steve. They were quietly conversing, glancing at me ever so often. I smiled as Bucky kept his eye on me. Steve chuckled at our silent exchange and gave me a quick wink before focusing his attention to Father. I turned my attention back to Bucky drowning out father’s speech to the crowd. He looked very handsome in his black dress coat with his white buttoned-up shirt. His hair was jelled back nicely and his beard was trimmed to perfection. “Let the celebration of the lands begin.” I heard Father say as people cheered. Bucky clapped, keeping his eyes on me and mine on him. Everyone dispersed to the dance floor as Bucky walked towards me. I smiled, descending down the stairs. “Goddammit doll, you look... amazing. Beautiful. Ravishing. Gorgeous.” Bucky gushed, taking my hand and spinning me around. I giggled, “Bucky, you’re making me dizzy.” Bucky stopped and pulled me to his chest. “I just wanted to see how my princess looked from all angles.”

“Oh, so I’m YOUR princess?”

“Of course.” I smiled and shook my head. “Well, just so you know, this princess loves to be spoiled.” He pulled me closer and whispered in my ear. “Don’t worry doll, I’ll spoil you in every way imaginable.” I blushed and hid my face in his chest. “Shall we dance?” I nodded before he pulled me to the dance floor. We twirled along too the music, our feet following the melody. I watched as all our friends danced, along with other guests. Father and Mother smiled in my direction while we danced. People stopped dancing and gossiped about the couples, I could hear faint comments about Bucky and me. I couldn’t care what anyone said or thought. All I could see was Bucky. His beautiful ocean eyes and his bright smile. His laugh, his jokes and his charm were all my ears could hear. “Tell me, princess, do you ever desire to be more?”

“More than?”

“More than just a princess?”

“Well, I don’t know. I’ve never had the chance to think about it. My father always made decisions for me. If I had to think about it, really think about it, I’d love to be independent and free. I know it’s not much but for people like me, it’s hard to come by.”

“I understand. So, I’m assuming being a Queen is not your idea of freedom.”

“Not exactly but we can’t have everything. If I was a Queen, I’d be able to make my own decisions and see the world. I’d be included in the important things and be taken seriously. Unfortunately, that would only happen because of my husband.”

“I’d let you be independent. I wouldn’t force you to depend on me.”

“You would?”

“Umm....y-yes. My apologies, I never meant to be so forward.”

“No, it’s alright. I like a man who can picture his future. Tell me, what does your future look like, Bucky?”

“My future... is you.”

“Now you’re definitely mixing business with pleasure.”

“It’s not my fault. My business is exceptionally pleasurable.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. Though, I’d never marry you for business purposes.”

“So, I’m just pleasure?”

“You’re an image of my greatest dreams coming true.” Bucky spun me around and moved his hands to my waist. He picked my body up and spun us around. I gasped in surprise, grabbing his biceps while Bucky laughed. Once I was back on my feet, Bucky pulls me flush against him after placing my hands around his neck. I played with the hairs by his neck, placing my head on his chest where his heart was. I sighed softly as I listened to his heartbeat while running my nails through the shorter hair. Bucky groaned softly as he rested his head onto of mine, his soft lips grazing my forehead. His fingers traced figures on it back, causing shivers to run up my spine. We danced in silence for two songs, enjoying each other’s company before I lifted my head up from his chest and spoke,” So, about this whole marriage thing -“

“You don’t have to say anything. I was overstepping.”

“No. No, you weren’t, it just caught me off guard is all. I’ve never discussed this with anyone other than my sister, Nat and Wanda. No one else really cared for my opinion. I was always told to listen to my father because he knew what was best. I’ve also never spoken to someone who can make it happen.”

“Well, I’d love to talk more about it with you. If you’ll have me?”

“I’d love to and I’m sure my father will be satisfied.”

“It doesn’t matter what your father thinks or wants.”

“Pray he didn’t hear you.”

“You’ll protect me, right princess?”

“Of course. I’ll never pass up a chance to save you.” Bucky chuckled and pulled me towards him, kissing my cheek lightly. “As long as I get to save you as well.” I blushed as his lips lingered on my cheek. After a while, Bucky and I stopped dancing, grabbed drinks and walked to Wanda. She was flirting with Vision, distracting him from his duties.

“Look at you two.” Wanda blushed and snatched a drink from a passing tray. “We weren’t doing anything.”

“We didn’t say you were.” Bucky and I chuckled as Wanda groaned, hiding her face in Visions chest. Before I could continue my teasing, a clink of a glass quietened the buzz-filled room. “I would like to make a toast,” Father announced. “To new alliances, new beginnings, new love.” Father glanced at Bucky and I. I groaned while Bucky and Wanda laughed silently. “This celebration tonight is to announce -“ Father couldn’t finish his sentence as he was interrupted by the sound of the glass window on the far left, shattering. People screamed as guards stormed in with warriors from the other kingdoms, drawing their weapons to protect the Royals. Bucky pulled me behind him as Vision drew their weapons. The room fell silent, everyone alert from another unwanted sound. Father walked to the window, guards in tow. He picked the thrown object up and inspecting it. I walked to Father, Bucky right behind me, and peered at the object. It was a rock - a big one - with a note attached to it.

It read ”time to pay up.”

I looked at Father as his face paled. Mother and Thor rushed towards him as he stumbled back. “He needs to sit.” Mother said, ordering the guards to bring a chair. Father huffed and sighed as he fell into the chair. ”Mother... the people.”

“Everybody remain calm... there’s nothing to worry about.” As Mother said that, an arrow flew through the window on the right, landing in the pillar close to Steve's head. Hela grabbed the arrow from the pillar and examined it. People screamed and started running in a different direction. Steve and Tony walked to the now-broken window and peered out. Thor shook his head, walked to Father's throne and shouted, “EVERYBODY QUIET!” The room fell silent, no one moving a muscle. “Close the doors. NOBODY LEAVES.” The guards shut all the doors, blocking all exits.

“What does the note say?” Carol asked as we all walked to Hela.

“I can’t read this...” Hela said. “It’s coded.”

“Let me see.” Bucky said, taking the paper and translating. His eyes widened and his hand tightened around mine. “It says... ‘There’s nowhere to hide.’ “

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