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pumpkinpaix · 4 years

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Pleeeeeeease get into the class one at some point because I very much want to understand the class dynamics happening in the story but I have yet to find a meta that dives into it

god anon you want me dead don’t you alsjdfljks

referring to this post

okay, so -- my specific salt about class interpretations in mdzs are very targeted. I can’t pretend to have a deep understanding of how class works in mdzs generally because uhhhhh yeah i don’t think i have that. i’m just not familiar enough with the genre and/or the particulars of chinese class systems. but! i can talk in general terms as to why I feel a certain way about the class dynamics that I do think I understand and how I think they relate to the themes of the novel! i’m gonna talk about wei wuxian, the daozhangs, xue yang, and 3zun with, I’m sure, a bunch of digressions along the way.

the usual disclaimers: i do not think you are a bad person if you hold opinions contrary to my own. i may disagree with you very strongly, but like. this isn’t a moral judgment, fandom is transformative and interpretive etc. etc. and i may change my mind. who knows what the future will bring!

OKAY so let’s begin!

here’s the thing about wei wuxian: he’s not poor. I think because characters use “son of a servant” kind of often when they’re trying to insult him, a lot of people latch onto that and think that it’s a much stronger indication of his societal status than it actually is. iirc, most of the insults that fall along the “son of a servant” line come after wei wuxian starts breaking severely from tradition. it’s a convenient thing to attack him for, but doesn’t actually indicate anything about his wealth. (exception: yu ziyuan, but that’s a personal familial issue) this is in direct contrast to jin guangyao who is constantly mocked for his family line, publicly and privately, no matter what he does.

so this, coupled with all the jokes about wwx never having any money (wei wuqian, sizhui’s “i’ve long since known you had no money” etc.), plus his like, rough years on the street as a child ends up producing this interpretation of wei wuxian, especially in modern aus, as someone who is very class conscious and “eat the rich”. but the fact of the matter is, wei wuxian IS rich. aside from the years in his childhood and the last two years of his life in yiling, like -- wei wuxian had money and status. he is gentry. he is respected as gentry. he is treated as a son by the sect leader of yunmeng jiang -- he does not have the jiang name, but it is so very clear that jiang fengmian favors him. wei wuxian is ranked fourth of all the eligible young masters in the cultivation world -- that is not a ranking he could have attained without being accepted into the upper class.

wei wuxian’s poverty does not affect him in the way that it affects jin guangyao or xue yang. he is of low-ish birth (still the son of jiang fengmian’s right hand man though! ok sure, “son of a servant” but like. >_> whatever anyways), but for most of his life he had money. he, jiang cheng, and their sect brothers go into town and steal lotus pods with the understanding that “jiang-shushu will pay for it”. this is a regular thing! that’s fucking rich kid behavior!!! wei wuxian is careless with money because he doesn’t have to worry about it. he still has almost all the benefits of being upper class: education, food security, respect, recognition etc. I think there may also be a misconception that wei wuxian was always on the verge of being kicked out by yu ziyuan, or that he was constantly walking on eggshells around her for fear of being disowned, but that is just textually untrue. i could provide receipts, but I admittedly don’t really feel like digging them up just now ;;

even in his last years in yiling, he was not the one who was dealing with the acute knowledge of poverty: wen qing is the one managing the money, and as far as we know, wei wuxian did little to no management of daily life during the burial mounds days -- mostly, he’s described as hiding in his cave for days on end, working on his inventions, running around like a force of chaos, frivolously making a mess of things -- it’s very very cute that he buries a’yuan in the dirt, but in classic wei wuxian fashion, he did Not think about the practical consequences of it -- that A’Yuan has no other clean clothes, and now he’s gotten this set dirty and has no intention of washing them. is this a personality thing? yeah, but I think it’s also indicative of his lack of concern over the logistics of everyday survival, re: wealth.

furthermore, i think it is important to remember that wei wuxian, when he is protecting the wen remnants, is not protecting common folk: he is still protecting gentry. fallen gentry, yes! but gentry nonetheless. wen qing was favored by wen ruohan, and wen ning himself says that he has a retinue of people under his command (the remnants, essentially). their branch of the family do not have the experience of living and growing in poverty -- they are impoverished and persecuted in their last years, but that’s a very different thing from being impoverished your whole life. (sidenote: I do not believe wei wuxian’s primary motivation for defending the wen remnants was justice -- i believe he did it because he felt he owed wen ning and wen qing a life debt, and once he was there, he wasn’t going to stand around and let the work camps go on. yes, he is concerned about justice and doing the right thing, but that’s not why he went in the first place. anyways, that’s another meta)

after wei wuxian returns, he then marries back into gentry, and very wealthy gentry at that. lwj provides him all the money he could ever want, he is never worried about going homeless, starving, being denied opportunities based on his class and accompanying disadvantages. who would dare? and neither wei wuxian nor lan wangji seem to have much interest in shaking up the order of things, except in little things like the way they teach the juniors. they live in gusu, under the auspices of the lan, and they live a happy, domestic life.

were his years on the street traumatizing? yes, of course they were, there’s so much delicious character exploration to be done re: wei wuxian’s relationship to food, his relationship to his own needs, and his relationship to the people he loves. it’s all important and good! but I feel very strongly that that experience, while it was formative for him, did not impart any true understanding of poverty and the common person’s everyday struggles, nor do I think he ever really gains that understanding. he is observant and canny and aware of class and blood, certainly, but not in a way that makes it his primary hill to die on (badum-tss).

this is in very stark contrast to characters like jin guangyao and xue yang, and to some extent, xiao xingchen and song lan. I’ll start with the daozhangs, because I think they’re the simplest (??).

I think both xiao xingchen and song lan have class consciousness, but in a very simplified, broad-strokes kind of way (at least, given the information we know about them). we know that the two of them share similar values and want to one day form their own sect that gives no weight to the nobility of your lineage and has no concern with your wealth. we also know that they both disdain intersect politics and are more concerned with ideals and principles rather than status. but, I think because of that, this actually somewhat limits their perception and understanding of how status is used to oppress. as far as we know, neither of them participated on any side in sunshot and they demonstrate much more interest in relating to the commoners. honestly, i hc that they were flitting around trying to help decimated towns, protecting defenseless villages etc. I ALSO think this has a lot of interesting potential in terms of xiao xingchen and wei wuxian’s relationship, if xiao xingchen is ever revived. regardless of whether you’re in CQL or novel verse, xiao xingchen really doesn’t know wei wuxian at all, other than knowing that he’s his shijie’s son. he knows that cangse-sanren met with a tragic end, like yanling-daoren before her, and that he wants to be different. but here is cangse-sanren’s son, laying waste to entire cities, desecrating the dead. I would very much like to get into xiao xingchen’s head during that period of time (and i think, if i do it right, i can write some of it into the songxiao fixit), but that’s neither here nor there, because i’ve wandered off from my point again.

i would posit that song lan is used to an ascetic lifestyle, and xiao xingchen probably is too -- but that’s different from poverty because there’s an element of choice to it. I also think that neither of them is particularly worldly, xiao xingchen especially. he lived on an isolated mountain until he was like, seventeen, and he came down full of ideals and naivete about how the world worked. I think that both of them see inequality, that they are angered by it, and that they want to do something about it -- but their solution is neither to topple the sects, nor is it to reform the system. rather, it seems to be more about withdrawing and creating their own removed world. I think that the daozhangs embody a kind of utopianism that isn’t present in the minds of any of the other characters, not even wangxian. honestly, baoshan-sanren’s mountain is a utopian ideal, but one that is not described. it exists outside of and beyond the world. i have a lot of jumbled, vague thoughts about utopianism generally, mostly informed by china miéville and ursula k. le guin, and I don’t think i have the ability to articulate them here, but i wanted to. hm. say something? there is something about the inherent dystopianism contained within every utopia, that utopias are necessary, but also reflections of the existence of terrible things in their conception. idk. there’s something in there, I know it!! but i suppose what I want to say is -- i do not think the daozhangs understand class and social hierarchy very deeply because they don’t see a need to examine it deeply. for their goals, the details aren’t the point. they’re not looking to reform within the system, they’re looking to build something outside of it. I think they spend a lot of time concerned with alleviating the symptoms of social oppression, and their values reflect the injustices they witness there.

regardless, even if their story ends in tragedy and there is a certain amount of critique re: the utopian approach, i think the text still emphasizes that xiao xingchen left a utopia and that he thought that people mattered enough for him to try, and that was an incredibly honorable, kind, and human thing to do.

YEAH SURE THE DAOZHANGS ARE THE SIMPLEST ok ok RETURNING to class and moving forward: xue yang.

i also don’t think xue yang has class consciousness lol, or not in any way that really matters, but I do think poverty impacted him in a much stronger way than it impacted wei wuxian. wei wuxian spent some years on the street as a child. xue yang grew up on the streets. chang ci’an’s horrific treatment of him was directly due to his class and social standing: chang ci’an is a nobleman and xue yang is not even worth the dirt beneath the wheels of his cart. what I think is the seminal point though, is that this does not make xue yang think particularly deeply about systemic injustice, because xue yang is so self-centered, self-driven, and individualistic. he is not even slightly concerned about how poverty and class might affect other people -- they’re other people. what he takes away from his experience is not an anger at being wrongfully cheated by a system, but an anger at being wrongfully cheated by a specific man.

xue yang is not particularly concerned with the politics of the aristocracy -- he has no obvious ambitions other than, “i want to eat sweets whenever i please”, “i want to hurt anyone who wrongs me”, and “i want to be so strong that no one can hurt me”. like, he just doesn’t care -- it’s not the kind of power he wants. he sneers at people for like, personal reasons, not class reasons -- “you think you’re better than me” re: xiao xingchen and song lan. to him, all people -- poor, wealthy, noble, common -- are essentially equal, and they are all beneath him. after all, what does he care what family someone comes from, how much money they have? everyone bleeds when you cut them. some of them might be harder to get to than others, but xue yang does not fear that sort of thing. it’s just another obstacle he needs to vault on his way to getting revenge and/or a pastry.

ANYWAYS onto jin guangyao (wow this is hm. getting rather long ahaha oh dear): I would argue that the two characters with the most acute understanding of class/societal politics and the injustice of them are jin guangyao and lan xichen. i’ll start with jin guangyao for obvious reasons.

where xue yang took the damaging effects of poverty as personal slights, I think jin guangyao is painfully aware that there is nothing personal about them, which is, in some ways, much worse. why are two sons, born on the same day to the same father, treated so differently? just because.

he watched his mother struggle and starve and work herself to the bone in a profession where she was constantly disrespected and abused for almost nothing in return, while his father could have lifted her out of poverty with the wave of a finger. why didn’t he? because he didn’t like her? no -- because he didn’t care, and the structures of the society they live in protect that kind of blase treatment of the lower class.

“so my mother couldn’t choose her own fate, is that her fault?” jin guangyao demands. he knows that he is unbelievably talented, that he has ambition, that he has potential, and that all of it is beyond his grasp just because his father didn’t want to bother with it. his mother’s life was destroyed, and his own opportunities were crippled with that negligence. it isn’t personal. that’s just the way things are. your individual identity is meaningless, your humanity does not exist. when he’s kicked down the steps of jinlin tai, it’s just more confirmation that no matter how talented or hardworking he is, no one will give him the time of day unless he finds a way to take it himself and become someone who “matters”.

jin guangyao’s cultivation is weak because he had a poor foundation, and he had a poor foundation because he was denied access to a good one. he copies others because that’s all he can do at this point, and he copies so well that he can hold his own against some of the strongest cultivators of his generation. he’s disparaged for copying and “stealing” techniques, but -- he never would have had to if only he had been born/accepted into the upper class. the fact is that i really do think jin guangyao was the most promising cultivator of his generation that we meet, including the twin jades and wei wuxian: he had natural talent, ambition, creativity, determination and cunning in spades. in some ways, I think that’s one of the overlooked tragedies of jin guangyao: the loss of not just the good man he could have been, but the powerful one too. imagine what he could have done.

jin guangyao spends his entire time in the world of the aristocracy feeling unsteady and terrified because he knows exactly how precarious his position is. he knows how easy it is to lose power, especially for someone like him. he’s working against so many disadvantages, and every scrap of honor he gets is a vicious battle. jin guangyao fears, and I think that’s something that’s lacking in xue yang, wei wuxian and the daozhangs’ experiences/understandings of poverty. i think it’s precisely that fear that emphasizes jin guangyao’s understanding of class and blood. jin guangyao exhibits an anxiety that neither wei wuxian nor xue yang do, and it’s because he truly knows how little he is worth in the eyes of society and how little there is he can do to change that. to me, it very much feels related to the anxiety of not knowing if tomorrow you’ll have something to eat, if tomorrow you’ll still have a home, if tomorrow someone will destroy you and never have to answer for it. it’s the anxiety of knowing helplessness intimately.

moreover, jin guangyao is the only person shown to use the wealth and power at his disposal to take concrete steps to actually help the common people typically ignored by the powerful -- the watchtowers. they’re described in chapter 42. it’s a system that is designed to cover remote areas that most cultivators are reluctant to go due to their inconvenience and the lack of means of the people who live there. the watchtowers assign cultivators to different posts, give aid to those previously forgotten, and if the people are too poor to pay what the cultivators demand, the lanling jin sect pays for it. jin guangyao worked on this for five years and burned a lot of bridges over it. people were strongly opposed to it, thinking that it was some kind of ploy for lanling jin’s personal benefit. but the thing is -- it worked. they were effective. people were helped.

i believe CQL frames the watchtowers as an allegory for a surveillance state/centralized control (i think?? it’s been a minute -- that’s the hazy impression i remember, something like a parallel to the wen supervisory offices?), but I personally don’t think that was the intent in the novel. the watchtowers are a public good. lanling jin doesn’t staff them with their own sect members -- they get nearby sects to staff them. it’s a warning network that they fund that’s supposed to benefit everyone, even those that everyone had considered expendable.

(did jin guangyao do terrible things to achieve this goal? yeah lol. it’s not confirmed, but his son sure did die... suspiciously...... at the hands of an outspoken critic of the watchtowers........ whom he then executed....... so like, maybe just a convenient coincidence for jin guangyao, two birds one stone, but. it seems. Unlikely.)

lan xichen is the only member of the gentry that ever shows serious compassion for and nuanced understanding of jin guangyao’s circumstances. lan xichen treats him as his equal regardless of jin guangyao’s current status -- even when he was meng yao, lan xichen treated him as a human being worthy of respect, as someone with great merits, as someone he would choose as a friend, but he did so knowing full well the delicate position meng yao occupied. this is in direct contrast to nie mingjue, who also believed that meng yao was worthy of respect as a human being, but was completely unable to comprehend the complexities of his circumstances and unwilling to grant him any grace. you know, the difference between “i acknowledge that your birth and status have had effects upon you, but I don’t think less of you for it” and “i don’t consider your birth and status at all when i interact with you because i think it is irrelevant” (“i don’t see color” anyone?)

to illustrate, from chapter 48:

大抵是觉得娼妓之子身上说不定也带着什么不干净的东西，这几名修士接过他双手奉上来的茶盏后，并不饮下，而是放到一边，还取出雪白的手巾，很难受似的，有意无意反复擦拭刚才碰过茶盏的手指。聂明玦并非细致之人，未曾注意到这种细节，魏无羡却用眼角余光扫到了这些。孟瑶视若未见，笑容不坠半分，继续奉茶。蓝曦臣接过茶盏之时，抬眸看他一眼，微笑道：“多谢。”

旋即低头饮了一口，这才继续与聂明玦交谈。旁的修士见了，有些不自在起来。

rough tl:

Probably because they believed that the son of a prostitute might also carry some unclean things upon his person, after these few cultivators took the teacups offered from [Meng Yao’s] two hands, they did not drink, but instead put them to one side, and furthermore brought out snow white handkerchiefs. Quite uncomfortably, and whether they were aware of it or not, they repeatedly wiped the fingers they had just used to touch the teacups. Nie Mingjue was not a detail-oriented person and never took note of such particulars, but Wei Wuxian caught these in the corner of his eye. Meng Yao appeared as if he had not seen, his smile unwavering in the slightest, and continued to serve tea. When Lan Xichen took the teacup, he glanced up at him and, smiling, said, “Thank you.”

He immediately dipped his head to take a sip, and only then continued to converse with Nie Mingjue. Seeing this, the nearby cultivators began to feel somewhat uneasy.

all right, since we’re in full cyan-rampaging-through-the-weeds mode at this point, i’m going to talk about how this is one of my favorite 3zun moments in the entire novel for characterization purposes because it really highlights how they all relate to one another, and to what degree each of them is aware of their own position in relation to the others and society as a whole.

1. nie mingjue, who is a forthright and blunt person, sets meng yao to serving tea and is done with it. he notices nothing wrong or inappropriate about the reactions of the people in the room because it’s not the sort of thing he considers important.

2. meng yao, knowing that his only avenue is to take it lying down with a smile, masks perfectly.

3. lan xichen, noticing all this, uses his own reputation to achieve two things at once: pointedly shame the other cultivators in attendance, and show meng yao that regardless of others’ opinions, he considers him an equal and does not endorse such behavior--and he does it while taking care that no fallout will come down on meng yao’s head.

is this yet another installment of cyan’s endless lxc defense thesis? why yes it is! no one is surprised! but this is my whole point: both meng yao and lan xichen understand the respective hierarchy and power dynamics within the room, while nie mingjue very much does not. this is not because nie mingjue is a bad person or because nie mingjue is stupid--it’s a combination of personality and upbringing. nie mingjue is straightforward and has no patience for such games. but then again, he can afford not to play because he was born into such a high position: that’s a privilege.

to break it down: meng yao knows that he is the lowest-ranked person in the room, sees the way people are subtly disrespecting him in full view of his general who is doing nothing about it. in some ways, this is good -- nie mingjue’s style of dealing with conflict is very direct and not at all suited to delicate political maneuvering. after all, the way he promoted meng yao was actually quite dangerous to meng yao: he essentially guaranteed that his men would bear meng yao a grudge and that their disrespect for him would only be compounded by their bitterness at being punished on his behalf. (it’s like, why often getting parents or teachers to intervene ineffectively in bullying can just be an incitement to more bullying -- same concept) meng yao’s reaction during that scene shows that he’s pretty painfully aware of this and is trying to defuse the situation to no avail. nie mingjue gives him a bootstrap speech (rip nie mingjue i love u so much but. sir) and then promotes him, which is pretty much the only saving grace of that entire exchange, for meng yao at least.

lan xichen, on the other hand, understands both that meng yao is the lowest-ranked person in the room and that any direct attempt to chastise the other cultivators in the room will only serve to hurt meng yao in the long run. he knows that if this were brought to nie mingjue’s attention, he would be outraged and not shy about it -- also bad for meng yao. so he uses what he has: his immaculate reputation. by acting contrary to the other cultivators’ behavior, he demonstrates that he finds their actions unacceptable but with the plausible deniability that it wasn’t directed at them, that this is just zewu-jun being his usual generous self. this means that the other cultivators have no one to blame but themselves, nothing to do but question their own actions. there is nowhere to cast off their discomfort. meng yao didn’t do anything. lan xichen didn’t do anything -- he just thanked meng yao and drank his tea, isn’t that what it’s there for? he doesn’t disrupt the peace, he doesn’t attack anyone and put them on the defensive, but he does make his position very clear.

i know this is a really small thing and i’m probably beating it to death, but I really think this shows just how cognizant lan xichen is of politics and emotional cause and effect in such situations. certainly, out of context I think the scene reads kind of cliche, but within the greater narrative of the story and within the arc of these characters specifically, I think it was a really smart scene to include. it also showcases lan xichen’s style of action: that he moves around and with a problematic situation as opposed to moving straight through.

not to be salty on main again, but this is why it’s very frustrating to me when I see people call lan xichen passive when he is anything but. his actions just don’t look like traditional “actions”, especially to an american audience. it’s easy to understand lan wangji and wei wuxian’s style of problem-solving: taking a stand, moving through, staying strong. lan xichen is juggling an inconceivable number of factors in any given situation, weighing his responsibilities in one role against those in another, and then trying to find the path through the thicket that will cause the least harm, both to himself and the thicket. lan wangji and wei wuxian are not particularly good at considering the far-reaching consequences of their actions -- again, not because they are bad people, but because of a combination of personality and upbringing. they’d just hack through the thicket, not thinking about the creatures that live in it. that is not a terrible thing! it isn’t. it’s a different way of approaching a problem, and it has different priorities. that’s okay. there are advantages and disadvantages on both sides, and where you come down is going to depend on your personal values.

okay we’ve spiraled far and away from my original point, but let’s circle back: i was talking about class.

I think it’s undeniable that class, birthright, fate etc. are some of the driving forces of thematic conflict in mdzs, and the way each character interacts with those forces reveals a lot about themselves and also about the larger themes of fate, chance, and what it means to be righteous and good and how that is and isn’t rewarded. a lot of the tragedy of mdzs (the tragedy that isn’t caused by direct aggression on the part of one group or another) stems from the injustices and slights that people suffered due to their lot in life. it isn’t fair. none of it is fair! we sympathize with jin guangyao because we recognize that what he suffered was unconscionable, even if we don’t excuse him. i sympathize A Lot with xue yang as well for similar reasons, though I understand that’s a harder sell. this is a story focused on the mistakes of an entrenched, aging gentry and the effects that those mistakes had on their children, and a lot of it has to do with prejudice based in class and birth status. whether the prejudice was the true reason or whether it was just a convenient excuse, the fact remains that the systems in place rewarded and protected the people in power who used it to cling to that power. mdzs is also a story of how the circumstances of one’s life can offer you impossible choices that you cannot abstain from, and it asks us to be compassionate to the people who made terrible choices in terrible times. it’s about the inherent complexity in all things! that sometimes, there are no good choices, and i don’t know, i’d like to think that people would show me compassion if I had to make the choices some of these characters did. not just wei wuxian, mind you, every single one of them. except jin guangshan because I Do Hate Him sorry. and i guess wen ruohan. i think that’s it.

good. GOD this is clocking in at //checks notes -- just over 5k. 8′D *stuffs some weeds into my mouth like the clown i am*

(ko-fi? :’D *lies down*)

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kazuhasbunny · 3 years

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okay to the people posting about chongyuns yang energy going f king insane and just ajxnsxjjs ya. This is such a big head canon to me like I totally think that after a while he would get comfortable with you and you’d have seen him act up a few times but it never happened when he was horny so : allow me ;

Your body dripped slightly as the water finished cascading over you. You and Chongyun had rented a room that day since you two were in the middle of travel and started to get tired of sleeping in tents.

As you step out you can hear Chongyun pacing in an annoyed manner around your room so you simply wrap your towel around yourself and step out a moment “Yunnie? Do you need something cool to eat?” Little did you know your sultry voice and the sight of you in just a towel, body dripping wet all for him was all he needed to send him flying. His jaw dropped momentarily at the sight of you. “Yunnie”. You call to him again giggling a bit as he stares at your body, he makes his way over to you and presses into you “y/n... I don’t know how much longer I can hold back it all... I’m already struggling..” he grits his teeth almost as if physically grating against his energy. “Then don’t hold back... if this is what you need then-“

“Don’t hold back?” He whispers in your ear “Well you’re in for a *long* night then”

Without warning he casts you over his shoulder making the towel fall and brings you

Over to the bed, biting his lip as he sees you splayed out for him. He can’t help but immediately start touching you and as the temperature rises the crazier he gets, you’re already a mess underneath him. The way he’s being has you so turned on as his tongue drags over your sensitive nipples and his hand darts down to your slit. He loves the noises this elicits out of you and suddenly whispers in a deepend voice “I need to mark you.. you’re mine” his words were spoken with an uneven and husky tone as he leaned into your neck and began to leave hickies and marks that progressively got darker and deeper the more excited he became. You too, were now becoming eager as well as your hand travelled down to his pants attempting to pull them down. He grabs your wrist “Such an eager little slut for me.. does it feel that good baby~” he whispers against your ear causing you to let out quite the moan in response. “Hm? I can’t hear you. How good does it feel..” he suddenly slides a finger inside you making you whine and moan. His suddenness causing you to pant “Y-yes Yunnie it feels so good”. You could feel him get hotter against you as his shirt came flying off and his bare chest was revealed. Something about this was different , so feral and passionate. “Good girl..~” He slips another finger inside and with his other hand slides his pants and briefs down as well, his cock standing at full and leaking from how excited you had him. As he watches your body shiver while you reach closer he pulls his fingers out causing you to whine “Be a good girl for me and take my cock hm..?” You nod, so eager at this point just to reach release. He thrusts inside you , not wasting a second as a glazed look comes over his eyes. A fervour need to just pump you full comes over him as he picks up your hips slightly off the bed, causing you to arch your back and begins thrusting inside you. You were so tight and ready for him and as soon as he started thrusting you turned to a moaning mess, he huffed and growled as he bucked into you and a pace that rapidly got faster. He was seeing red, he was getting so hot he couldn’t stop. “Who owns you” he chuffs into your ear “Y-you”. Your words exit all jumbled and stuttered with moans always following them as he fucks into you “Hmm.. that’s right. I own you and no one else” his hand snakes softly around your neck, gently squeezing but not enough to hurt you, it was clear even as feral as he was being he doing his best not to hurt you. That said you certainly didn’t mind the spanking and when he would occassionally call you dirty names. “Good little.. slut” he grunted out as he started to throb inside of you taking him so well “Nh.. F-fuck Chongyun i - I’m gonna cum..” you practically beg to him however instead of depriving you of your orgasm he begins bucking into you hard and deep. Holding your hips as his fingers dig into them , that was definitely gonna leave bruises. His hand came down from brushing over your lips and starts rubbing your clit with fervour. Making you moan loud as your legs start to shake

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me?” He huffs out , obviously finding it a bit difficult to speak as he too begins to reach his orgasm. You can’t even think straight now, your tongue sticking out half way and simply just moaning your little heart out as suddenly you see starts and your hand reaches to grab his arm for support as the knot in your stomach comes undone and you tighten up around him and let out a trail of sultry sounds. He groans as his hips continue to thrust as deep as possible inside you to help ride out your high until the combination of the heightend pleasure and he’s yang energy become too much and he slams into you, filling you up as he groans and moans and cums inside you. As you both come down from your high he seems to relax a bit and his yang energy seems to wear off slightly as he falls into you while you catch your breath. “T-thank you, I hope it was good...” he stutters out . “I really... liked that honestly yunnie..” he stares up at you and smiles softly “I’m glad” he twists a tendril of your hair into his fingers gently as he sits up “You we’re so good even though I was so rough, I hope I didn’t hurt you. ” you giggle softly as he tilts your chin, still inside you and plants a soft kiss on your lips, you both slightly groan as you grind against each other causing you to hum and he chuckles. “Round two?” You tease him however he leans down to your ear “it’s gonna be a long night for you, my love~”

(OMG I DIDNT KNOW I WAS CAPABLE OF THIS slndwkdnwkdnisd akdnkad also I had to cut it now cause ask limit but I hope you liked this . I turned m notifications on for you cause ily your stuff and your asks. Pls enjoy this thirst)

i .... omg ..... your writing is so good hnwwnwmh?.?.,,, heheyy *bites lip* yhis is..nemwb ,,, horn....... kn .. ee.......................... chongyun nbmhmjmmmmm......

#eli.replies #eli.thirsts #anon #👀.chongyun #yall really swag holy.#genshin smut

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thisaccisdead · 4 years

Text

montreal - roman hurt/comfort

pairing: this was written to all be platonic prinxiety, but can definitely be interpreted romantically !

warnings: unconventional self harm, non-graphic descriptions of wounds/injury

summary: a post-POF roman hurt/comfort fic in january 2021? yes <3

word count: 3.2k

notes: large portions of this were salvaged from one (1) night last summer at 4am when i was having a . time. the rest has been mainly recently written before i go to bed, with some extra bits added during my history classes B)) also shout out to [REDACTED]. u may not read this but if u do, i hope u know who u are & ilu

Virgil had been trying to calm himself down for the better part of an hour, as soon as they got back from the wedding fiasco; and he was doing a relatively okay job. Considering the circumstances, at least. Or so he thought, when he registered a spike in Thomas’s anxiety. This only served to make Virgil more anxious, because he had thought he had been doing well—until, he realized it wasn’t anxiety, not exactly, not fully—and it wasn’t coming from him.

Once he'd figured that out, it wasn't hard to trace the feeling to the imagination. He paused at the door. If this was where the strongest negative emotions were coming from, he already knew which side this was about. And could he really be surprised? Roman had wanted that callback for so long. Even at the court case, even when Roman gave Thomas his sentence, Virgil knew it killed him. And Virgil didn't do anything. Because he was so fucking scared of Thomas being bad, or of Janus winning, or something, and now whatever was going on was his fault, and--

And now was not the time for these thoughts. He breathed in. He opened the door.

Immediately, he was coughing out soot, heat burned his cheeks, his eyes blurred with protective tears forming against the smoke. It was hard to see, let alone process, what was happening. Then, he caught sight of the Dragon Witch. And he caught sight of—

“Roman!” Virgil choked on the yell, coughing again.

Obviously Roman couldn’t hear him from the distance, especially considering the brutal roar of the creature. Adrenaline kicked in, and as Virgil began to sprint towards the prince, he took in the entirety of the scene with alarm. Roman was...fighting, sure, except that Virgil had seen him fight before, and this... wasn’t right. Roman bested manticore-chimeras like it was a breeze, he HAD bested the Dragon Witch herself in every form she took, “just for training.” He always moved like he was in a ballet, not a battle, like it was more for show than challenge, and now...

Virgil watched Roman fall to a hard swish of the creature’s tail, and stay there. He almost expected the Dragon Witch to take mercy, or at least, to accept an early victory. But he watched her rear back, raise a taloned hand, the magma-red in her throat glowing brighter and brighter—just as Virgil got close enough to let fight win over flight.

Virgil crashed into Roman; they rolled just far enough that the swipe of claws only ripped the edge of Virgil’s jacket.

Immediate danger out of the way, Virgil clenched his eyes tight, trying to do it how Logan taught him. He found something that didn’t make sense--the grass. The grass was dry, therefore it should have been burning, but it wasn’t. He took that foothold to dispel all the fantastical elements of the scene, Dragon Witch and all her carnage blinking from existence. The new calm of the scene was jarring.

That just left a great big field, Virgil, and one absolute dumbass.

"What the fuck, Princey?!"

Virgil’s voice was distorted with stress, and Roman stared up at him wide-eyed, unsure—even terrified in a way that hurt. Virgil quickly pushed himself up so he wasn't pinning the other. Roman tried to copy this movement, only to groan, start coughing, and fall back again.

“Shit, I—“ Virgil looked at his hands and found red on them, looked at Roman and saw the color painting his chest. “I thought I dispelled all the imaginary stuff, why—?“

“Left brain sides can only dispel so much of what right brain sides feel,” Roman said, voice rough and thin and upsettingly casual, “Since they feel so real to me, you can’t get rid of them.”

“They feel…? Christ, ok, you need a medical kit, uhm—“ Virgil closed his eyes again; he was notoriously shitty at summoning things, and he had to concentrate for this—

“That’s ok; I’ve got it,” Roman said, letting out a quiet hiss as he propped himself up on one arm, and summoned the medical kit with the other, “You can go now.”

Virgil gaped at him in disbelief. When Roman attempted to stand up, and Virgil could no longer deny he wasn’t joking, he exclaimed, “Like Hell am I going, idiot!”

Roman just stared at him, and Virgil cursed under his breath. “Ok ok, let’s just... we should do this in the bathroom, uhm—“

Virgil awkwardly clambered over to Roman again, taking his hand, so he could blink them over together. He knew it would probably be more comfortable for Roman to sink in and out, but considering Virgil wasn’t practiced at that, he wasn’t going to risk screwing it up.

They apparated into the bathtub, and Virgil scrambled up, taking the med kit from Roman's hands.

Ok, ok, now Virgil just had to remember that one time Logan lectured them all on “Side Safety.” He took a shaky breath and washed his hands quickly, before turning back to Roman. He allowed himself to fully assess the prince this time and… Jesus. He was slumped against the back of the tub, having given up his attempts at composure while he thought Virgil wasn’t looking. His litany of scrapes, cuts, bruising, his shallow breathing, and--most of all--the wet, red patch slowly growing on his shirt, sparked renewed panic in Virgil.

“Ok, fuck, ok--let’s do this,” Virgil said, mostly to himself, as he knelt down by Roman to undo his already tattered shirt and take a wet towel to his chest. He had to suck in a breath at the sight of the jagged wound, a nauseous feeling catching up to him.

“You’ve already done a lot, you know,” Roman insisted. “You can--”

“If you tell me to go, Princey, I swear I’ll make these wounds worse myself,” he said, not meaning it in the slightest, which he would assume Roman knew--but the way Roman flinched and shut his mouth told a different story. “Shit, I didn’t mean that. Of course I didn’t mean that!”

Roman glanced away, and Virgil reached to cup his cheek, an instinct he didn’t know he had. Luckily, he caught himself in time to retract his hand. They both avoided eye contact for a second; Virgil cleared his throat; and he reached for the bottle of hydrogen peroxide before pausing. He vaguely recalled Logan mentioning how strong alcohols would only cause more harm, and they should just stick to mild soap instead. He gave the cut a longer look-over—it was certainly not a pretty sight, but probably not as bad as it looked. It was large, but not too deep. Plus, as sides, it would heal itself without needing anything like stitches or professional medical work. The past scars littering Roman’s body were proof of that. Actually--had he always had this many scars? Virgil squinted. How often did he do this?

Virgil finished cleansing and bandaging the wound to the best of his ability, with little talk beyond the occasional, soft “sorry” at Roman’s winces. When he had finished, he gave Roman his hoodie (an action the Prince was too tired to take much notice of), since summoning a new shirt seemed like a waste of whatever energy he had left.

“Ok, Princey, all done. Uhm, are you—how, how are you?” Virgil mentally kicked himself.

A small, bitter smile tugged at Roman’s lips for just a moment. He opened his mouth and then closed it, and finally shrugged. “Thank you for your help.”

It hurt, Virgil realized. Roman’s quiet voice, where near-shouting was his usual speech. His unkempt hair sticking to his forehead, where it was usually styled to be very lightly and intentionally ruffled. The bags beneath his eyes where there was usually concealer. All of it hurt.

Virgil sucked in a breath. “Look, I’m sorry if I’m being annoying, but I hope you know there’s absolutely no way I’m leaving yet.”

“Virgil,” Roman almost said it as a whine, which was closer to his usual style, so Virgil considered it progress.

“Roman,” Virgil deadpanned back.

Roman huffed. “Maybe I need space to really explore my feelings, and you’re actually being a terrible friend right now,” he argued.

“Uh-huh, well being a terrible friend is always my favorite, so,” Virgil leaned down, fumbling slightly as he picked Roman up bridal style, “We’re gonna get you to bed, and you can explore your feelings by sleeping.”

“Great, now you’re damsel-in-distressing me,” Roman said sarcastically, but he leaned his head into Virgil’s chest as he did so, which kind of ruined his point.

“Yeah, yeah. Act more like Megara next time, and maybe it’ll be different.”

•••

Roman groaned upon waking up. His whole body ached, but mainly it was focused around a sharper pain in his chest. He let his eyes flutter open, only to find Virgil staring at him from his desk.

“Ah,” Roman uttered, a jumble of memories from the past few hours returning. They felt foggy and mildly icky, but mainly the pain in them was the numb kind of pain, the tired kind. Really, it was indistinguishable from the dull ache of his bruises and cuts.

“Yeah,” Virgil said, as though he understood, even though he couldn’t possibly. “Uh, wanna talk about it?”

It was clear Virgil felt awkward asking the question. It was unclear whether that was due to his tendency to be embarrassed by everything he said, or—far more likely—that he wanted to stop babying a stupid prince, and just go about his business.

Roman sat up, suppressing a wince as best he could. “Do you want to hear about it?”

“Of course I do.” Virgil said it without an ounce of hesitation. Roman’s breath caught.

“Oh.” Roman shifted slightly over, and Virgil took a seat by him on the bed. “Okay. Uhm. I don’t know, I just—I messed up.” What else was new?

“...What did you mess up?” Virgil asked, with an inkling of suspicion, like he knew what this was about. But it wasn’t that; it wasn’t the callback—that was over and done and dead. Roman had created so many fantasies, so many crazy scenarios where they could somehow still make it in that stupid movie, and it had always filled him with hope or crushing pain or something, but as of this afternoon? He didn’t even care. It didn’t matter.

So, Roman ignored the question, and instead commented, “Janus got accepted.”

“What the fuck.”

Roman observed Virgil’s stricken expression like an unsettling kind of mirror of himself when—

My name is Janus.

“Yeah,” Roman sighed, “I didn’t take it so well either.”

Virgil looked at him for a long moment, seeming to go through several series of emotions, before he was able to ask, “...What happened?”

Roman inhaled sharply. “I was wrong about being wrong about the wedding. Patton was also wrong; Janus was right, and then Patton was right because he wasn’t a total asshole to Janus, and I’m evil; Thomas hates me; whatever, you get it.”

He thought he would break down, saying it, but he felt oddly… fine. He sat, staring at the same spot as he was before, absentmindedly annoyed at the way his bandages itched. The normalcy of the situation almost made it worse. This sucked. This wasn’t even bad.This was the worst he had ever felt.

“Oook,” Virgil said, clearly not knowing where to start, “I—you—what do you mean: Thomas hates you?”

“Thought that one was self-explanatory.”

“He can’t hate you,” Virgil said with a laughable amount of conviction. “You’re still his… y’know.. goals. Desires. Hopes. Whatever. Just because this one didn’t go… perfectly, doesn’t mean you won’t keep—“ he struggled to find the phrasing for a moment— “...fighting, uh, valiantly for Thomas’s dreams!” he attempted at the encouragement with a weak smile.

Roman just shook his head. “No. I don’t know what he wants.”

Virgil’s smile dropped into confusion. “But… you are his wants.”

“That’s kind of the problem.”

Virgil seemed at a loss, and Roman felt like an asshole. Here he was trying to help him, and Roman couldn’t even be bothered to put on a smile to dismiss him from the duty.

“Please go,” Roman attempted weakly when he couldn’t find a more convincing argument in himself. He was meant to be an actor, but he knew he couldn’t hide the fact that he wanted him to stay, of course he did, so badly. He hoped Virgil would just quit with the chivalry and go despite that.

Virgil sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I'm going about this all wrong.”

Roman knew it probably wasn’t really him Virgil was mad at, but it was hard not to shrink away anyway.

“Look, Roman—“ Virgil turned to him, looked at him seriously, took his hands in his— “To be honest? I don’t care what happened. I don’t care who was right or wrong—I mean, we all know I’ve been in the wrong more than my fair share. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Roman didn’t miss the ambiguity of the end statement. “But… look, you don’t get it. When you mess up, you’re still you. You’re still...,” Roman gestured vaguely, which upset his bandages, and when he looked down at himself, he took note of the black/purple hoodie he was wearing. He melted slightly. This was exactly the point he was trying to make, “You’re still... y’know. Important.”

“Wh—? Of course you’re important, Ro. You’re creativity—“

“Thomas has two of those.”

Virgil looked at him like he was stupid. “Right, as if you’re anything like Remus.”

Roman’s lip quivered at that, and he had to look away, which was so stupid. And suddenly he felt all of the embarrassment at once—of this situation, of everything that had happened before, of the way he was about to cry, in front of Virgil, after he said that, which must look so—

“Roman?”

A hand was on his cheek, softly turning his face towards Virgil’s, though Roman still refused to meet his eyes.

Virgil cursed to himself under his breath. “Shit, this is exactly what I was trying not to say.” He sighed, and Roman hesitantly looked up at him. “Look. Even if you weren’t creativity, if you weren’t hopes or dreams or any of it—if you were a completely pointless side, which you aren’t, but if you were—I wouldn’t care. What I care about is that you’re... Roman. That you bother me until I sing Disney with you, that when you put your heart into something, you do it to a stupid amount, that you make Thomas take trashy buzzfeed soulmate quizzes when he’s stressed, and that you fucking try so hard for everything, even when I’m being a little bitch about it,” he paused. With the hand on Roman’s cheek, he traced the line of a scar down his jaw. It was one of the ones Roman usually made sure to put an illusion over, he noted offhandedly. “I care, because you’re my best friend.”

“Don’t say that,” Roman choked out. He couldn’t handle it if it was a lie, and part of him couldn’t manage hearing it as anything but exactly that. “Just—just—“

“Oh, Princey..”

Virgil held him as he broke. Roman didn’t know how long they sat like that as he let everything wash over him for a final time, let it all truly sink in at long last. He took heaving, messy sobs, no doubt ruining Virgil’s shirt in the process—he was quiet, though. He shook silently, save a couple choked breaths, in the other’s arms--that was a habit he had taught himself long ago.

When Roman had tired himself out, when all that was left was the pain in chest, (which was also suddenly duller—he was healing fast, even for a side—) he pulled back from the embrace. Virgil didn’t move by much, kept them so their fingers were laced together, as they sat staring at each other.

“Uhm. Thanks,” Roman gave a shaky smile, “You really—uh... I... I said some stupid stuff, huh?”

Virgil hesitated before he spoke, as if he knew he shouldn’t ask this right now, but needed to anyway. “...Roman, why’d you go to the Imagination?”

Roman felt ice stab at his chest upon the question. He didn’t want to do this. They had already talked about so much that he shouldn’t have gotten into; this was meant to be the part where they either parted or watched a stupid movie. And this, out of everything, was the conversation he most needed to avoid.

“Uh—I mean, to let off steam?” Roman gave a laugh as best he could. “Obviously, it didn’t go to plan—“

“Didn’t it?”

Roman’s face fell immediately. He struggled to come up with an answer, and even if he had had one, he didn’t think the sound would come out. This was enough of an answer in itself

“Shit,” Virgil breathed. Roman couldn’t help but be mildly annoyed by his surprise—clearly he had already known, he didn’t have to make it a big deal now.

“I… Princey—Roman…” Virgil looked him up and down, and Roman wanted to curl up and hide. “...how many times?”

“Not many,” Roman mumbled. Virgil must have known he was pushing the subject too far, because he just frowned and said,

“OK. I mean...it’s not OK, obviously, but you already know that, I just—“ he sighed. “Just… can you talk to me? Instead? Please? When you feel like… that.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Roman responded hastily, wanting an out from this topic.

Virgil gave him a look. “I’m serious. I mean—look, you don’t even have to talk about it if you don’t want. Just, come to me first, yeah?”

Roman’s face burned; he was embarrassed; he wanted to shrug this whole thing off, or roll his eyes, or maybe scream in annoyance. But the rational part of him knew Virgil was right. “OK,” he agreed softly, “...Thanks. For everything.”

Virgil looked surprised, and then flustered, and then waved off the earnest reply. “I mean, it wasn’t--I didn’t--it’s not like I did anything really--”

“You did.”

Virgil’s face softened. “Yeah, well... you’d’ve done the same for me. You... have done the same for me.”

Roman smiled gently at him. “By the way, Virge--” He hesitated. He was about to sound like a real dumbass if Virgil had only been saying this stuff for comfort’s sake. But making a fool of himself was becoming a theme for him anyway, so he continued, “You’re my best friend too.”

I love you.

In the same beats Roman thought it, Virgil squeezed his hand lightly 3 times. A breath passed between them. An understanding. That Roman couldn’t say it out loud, and Virgil wouldn’t.

Instead, Virgil fell back across the bed, bringing Roman with him in the motion. Roman let out a startled gasp and elbowed him lightly. “Hey! I’m injured, that could have been a fatal impact for me!” he whined.

Virgil snorted. “Yeah, yeah, OK. So, do you wanna watch a stupid movie, or what?”

#lucy.fic #romangst #roman sanders angst #roman hurt/comfort #prinxiety #platonic prinxiety #ts roman #ts virgil #everyone ik reading the title of this fic: ohhh my god we know u like penelope scott we know #‘we know u associate this song w roman we KNOW</3’#roman sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #also standard statement that im not a writer i just write sometimes pls do not. judge thishehusgs

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grimmywrites · 3 years

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So, about Infinite Darkness...

I’m gonna try to be as succinct as I can (I failed) about all the problems I had with it, but my list is pretty long... Yes, this has spoilers. Let me state upfront: if you’re not a hardcore RE fan, you can skip the show. Below I’ll tell you why.

Story: What a mess. Honestly, they turned me off right at the beginning with all the military stuff. It’s the same reason people didn’t like Chris’ campaign in 6; didn’t they learn anything from that? So, the story wasn’t the best thing I’ve ever seen. Honestly, it had more plot holes than anything and so many points where I went: “I don’t care about this.” Again, it was a jumbled mess. Capcom, hire me and I’ll do better, I swear. Let’s just sum it up by saying it’s a rehash of things we’ve seen SEVERAL times in the series before. If you’re gonna do it AGAIN let’s make the story unique and interesting. Oh, there are shady people in the military that want to use bioweapons in war? Okay, we’ve known that since the first game. We’ve seen it time and time again. Look to re8′s ending for example: the BSAA are now starting to use engineered soldiers - THAT was a reveal that was far more interesting. The way it was addressed and overcome in this show was just... so lackluster. Ultimately, it just felt like this entire thing didn’t need to happen. It changed nothing, it impacted nothing, and I’m aware that it really couldn’t since it was after re4 and before re5. There was just no lasting point and all the ‘themes’ (if you can call them that) made absolutely no sense, but I guess I��ll get into that with the characters? Pacing: Absolutely god awful. One minute we’re in the White House fighting zombies then I blink and it’s over and I’m like: Oh, we’re done? Another we’re in a sub and then I blink. Oh, that’s over, too. Also, the creators must’ve taken a page from the last couple of seasons of Game of Thrones (which is an abysmal idea, don’t fucking do that) because with a few cuts here and there we went from Guam to China back to DC. Guess everybody learned how to teleport so they got exactly where we needed them to for the “climax”. Let’s talk about that climax: There was none. Let’s look at Degeneration and Damnation (no I won’t talk about Vendetta). Both had their weaknesses but Leon and the climaxes were BADASS. Leon doing parkour in Degeneration? Leon going against Lickers and the huge Tyrants in Damnation? Those were amazing scenes. He did a few cool things here and there but nothing that got more of a laugh out of me. My man is coming off re4 where he rampaged through a village, a castle, and an island of mutated creatures to save one girl. C’mon now. Characters: By now (if anybody is even reading this rant), you’ve noticed that I’ve talked a lot about Leon. But what about Claire? Yeah, they lied to us about them working together. She got sidelined again. A lot of people are upset about this -- and yeah, it sucks because I do love Claire. Leon has just happened to be my favorite since 1998 so I wasn’t as heartbroken. That doesn’t mean I’m not disappointed, I’m just not very surprised. Leon - My main problem with Leon is Nick, his voice actor. I’m so sorry for all those who like him, but he just isn’t good enough for me. Paul Mercier (re4, Degeneration, Darkside Chronicles) and Matt Mercer (Damnation, Re6, Vendetta) would have been more appropriate. Nick tries his best, but he’s just too soft sounding to be post-re4 Leon. This is a man who is quipping one-liners left and right a couple of years ago. Now he’s barely smiling and doesn’t feel confident at all, and I think a lot of that is because of his portrayal. There are times where the lines hit, but more often than not they fall flat. I never felt that way with Paul who is my favorite Leon or Matt who gave emotional performances every time. Also, his decision at the end? I can understand it, but explain to Claire! Claire - I like Stephanie as Claire, I have no problems with her. She makes her sound tough and ready to do what she thinks is right. Unfortunately, the story completely sidelines her and makes her role obsolete. Everything she uncovers (because that’s her role apparently, just there to Nancy Drew) is already told to us through flashbacks and other characters. Why even have her? Was it just to show us WHY her and Leon don’t talk often? A waste. Shen Mei - I don’t care. I felt nothing for her. They tried really hard, but they just failed to flesh these new characters out and when her time was up I once again went: Oh? That’s it, then. ‘Kay. I think I laughed a bit, sorry girl. Her whole plotline was to get that chip in Leon’s hand, nothing more. Jason - I don’t care. A character I thought I felt sorry for with his ptsd but nope. Once his story unfolded - messily, I might add (I hate the REPEATED flashback shit. Tell me once and stop teasing me.) I just went... okay, what the hell is your plan? To spread fear? ‘Kay. It was dumb and made no sense. What, he wants everyone to feel terror so they know? It needed to be clarified. It’s like they couldn’t figure out more synonyms for fear and terror. So, what? It helps keep Leon from going public with the chip and that information? Because he knows it’ll just cause mass hysteria? And then you’ve got Claire’s side - she’s not an agent and she believes the people have a right to know. They’re both right, but there’s no goddamn communication between ANYONE in this show. I just felt exhausted by it, nothing else. Not to mention it’s useless angst because of the plot of Degeneration. Wilson - Our bad guy. Let’s just sum up really quickly in case people were confused by the plot: He was putting infected soldiers into war zones so that even after they died they’d kill anybody involved, then he’d bomb the area and clean up the evidence. These soldiers didn’t show any symptoms because they had inhibitors that kept the virus at bay until they died, so they had to take regular shots to stay human. He’s the one who gets the zombies into the white house so that he could blame it on China and get the US into a war with them. That way he could send in his soldiers and infect the populace. From there, he’s the only one with the cure so he could rake in LOTS of money selling it to the world. AKA: he wants to use the US military to infect everyone so he can make a profit. He gets infected by Jason and gets away... then meets up with someone who gives him an inhibitor. This someone is working for Tricell, the big bads of re5 who work under Wesker. So it leads right into the fifth game. That’s all he is, a tie in and yet another example of someone in power trying to profit off the viruses of the RE world. Honestly, nobody else is worth mentioning. Animation: They’re getting better at it. Leon and Claire looked especially pretty, but there’s still a stiffness here and an issue with everyone’s mouths while they talk. I want to praise how different SOME of the characters look - the president and his aides all look appropriately aged and grizzled and distinct. Same with Jason. Other characters (side characters mainly) kinda look generic. Shen Mei for example isn’t very distinct. I mean, her grandpa and brother (both one scene wonders) were more realistic looking than she was. Even Claire - they gave her a bigger nose and made her look more in line with her Revelations 2 model (thank god I love that model). Movement was pretty fluid, I wish we’d seen more fighting and cool action -- though not to the extent of Vendetta. Maybe that’s what they were trying to avoid, but it didn’t make it any fun to watch. Enemies: This is the last thing I’ll comment on. The zombies were fine - they always are. I heard a ton of reused sounds from remake2, as well, but I thought of it as an Easter Egg more than anything. They looked good, their gore was good, all set there. Problem was, they were basically the only bad guys. That’s a huge fucking disappointment. I know people recognize this series as ‘the one with the zombies’ but that’s not true. Every game (save 7) had MULTIPLE enemy types all created through bio engineering. In this show we see three types. THREE. Zombies. Zombie rats - a one-scene wonder that Leon dispatches fast and easy. I’ll admit, they looked cool but there was nothing else to them. “They’re a bioweapon” and then Leon fries them all with some electricity and we’re done. Jason’s mutated form. Okay, I have to admit, I really loved his design. He was cool, I liked that he could talk and emote. But, other than that? He didn’t DO anything cool. He mutated once and hopped around a lot. That’s it. I mean, a bioweapon that keeps his mental capacities? C’MON! We could’ve done so much more with him. Again, this goes back to why the climax was so bad -- he and Leon didn’t fight. One jumped, the other ran around to catch up and fired a few bullets and a rocket at him. Then he used an acid bath to finish the job. (Also, explain to me WHY he mutated into a tyrant-like creature while everyone else with that specific virus was another form of zombie? We see Jun (Shen’s brother) mutating almost crystal-like at one point but... what? You leave them off for a while and they turn into crystal zombies? Make it make sense.) I’m sure there’s more to say, but honestly, unless you’re a hardcore RE fan like me, I’d say you can skip it. It wasn’t a fun ride, there weren’t any stakes, it wasn’t emotional... it just... was. I will end on one good note that made me smile, though: I loved seeing the Ashley Easter Egg.

#resident evil infinite darkness #resident evil: infinite darkness #resident evil #my opinion #Leon S. Kennedy #leon kenney #claire redfield

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ghostnebula · 4 years

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Sincere and Dignified

“Eddie's twenty-first birthday + The entire Losers' Club + Las Vegas + Being in love with your best friend = Well, exactly what you'd expect.”

[read it on Ao3]

(or here)

Eddie’s birthday is in November. Which makes him the youngest member of the Losers’ Club. Which makes him the last Loser to turn twenty-one.

Which means they go all-out to celebrate, since it’s the first time they can all (legally) celebrate together. And because they’ve kind of forgone “proper” twenty-first birthday festivities for everyone else, so no one would ever feel left out. Finally, no one needs to be left out of it.

They’ve all been living together for over three years now, they’re all getting close to graduating from college, and they all saved up for this one, because this is pretty much it. The last big, fun, tangible milestone in their young lives. The last “new” thing they’re earning the right to do (legally) after driving and voting. You bet your ass they go ham on Eddie’s birthday plans.

That’s how they end up in Vegas. Several long weeks of planning, lots of money they scraped together into jars over the last few years ready to be spent, checking and double-checking every class syllabus to make sure no one misses anything important on Friday (they have to be at their hotel in time for check-in or, between Stan and Eddie, someone will pitch a fit). Then they’re all piling into Ben’s station wagon with as little luggage as they could manage to bring for a weekend trip (the station wagon is “spacious”; it is not a fucking miracle vehicle).

Roughly ten hours later (five hours for driving, two for check-in plus cramming all their crap into the motel room and then attempting to organize it, one for figuring out and agreeing on where to even start with the partying, two more for getting ready) Eddie Kaspbrak has his first legal drink as a proper twenty-one year old, on this night of November third, and there’s no aftertaste of guilt like usual. He’s got Richie pushing shots into his hands, Mike making sure he’s eating some snacks once in a while so he doesn’t get too trashed too fast, Bev directing bartenders to make the most delicious fucking drinks he thinks he’ll ever taste in his life (Porn Stars, or something else inappropriate like that).

He has Bill, the oldest, practically under oath to stay sober (at least for tonight) so there’s one semi-coherent Loser present to keep the rest of them safe and sane until he can drag them all back to the motel.

He has a wad of cash in his pocket, a chunk of his savings from the past year, ready to blow on booze and gambling and whatever the fuck he wants, because it’s his birthday, so he’s allowed to do whatever the fuck he wants.

It’s safe, and more importantly, it’s legal, and most importantly, it’s Vegas. He never thought he’d ever have the balls to set foot in a place like this -- the kind of place his mother would demonize when he was a kid. Drinking, before he left Derry and his mom and the vice grip she had on his life, was completely out of the question, let alone getting hammered in a casino in Sin City, of all fucking places, under the care of the “evil little shits” he calls his best friends.

He more than lets loose. He lets twenty-one years of virtually non-stop anxiety unwind in one night.

When he wakes up the next morning, hung over for the first time in his life, it’s almost worth it. Bill’s the only motherfucker awake already, being that he’s the only one who doesn’t have several bottles of vodka et al. to sleep off, and he’s draped across the ratty arm chair in their ratty motel room, channel-surfing with the television volume as low as it can get. The light burns Eddie’s eyes, still, when he lifts his head and -- instead of turning, his head just kind of lolls on his shoulders until he can look at Bill properly.

He wants to ask him to end his suffering, which he can only assume he has yet to see the worst of. Suddenly he understands why aspirin exists. He wants Bill to pump him full of painkillers until he stops feeling like he’s made of electrified cotton. Instead, he says, articulately, “Guh.”

Bill turns his attention from Scooby-Doo to where Eddie is half-lying, trapped under the weight of Richie’s arm and half his chest. Richie is snoring away, glasses askew on his face, a cooling puddle of drool soaking Eddie’s shoulder. It’s gross, but he can’t really complain at this point. He’s accustomed to it by now.

“Ah, he lives.”

“Ugh,” says Eddie.

“I bet,” says Bill. “So, do you want a recap of the events of last night, or did you keep your promise and remember every life-altering decision you chose to make?”

Bill’s voice, which he’s hardly putting much effort into keeping down -- owing to the fact that all his effort is being channeled into trying not to laugh, and Eddie can’t even begin to fathom what’s so funny -- is causing the other Losers to stir. His splitting headache doesn’t want him to try to figure out what’s funny. He must have fried a metric shitload of braincells with all those Porn Stars last night, or whatever the fuck sugary booze Bev was pouring down his throat before everything went hazy.

“Life-altering?” he repeats after a few moments, as Richie’s arm finally stops crushing him. It’s the only word that really stands out to him in the jumbled mess of hangover discomfort his brain is fighting, and it should cause him anxiety but he’s more worried, right now, about drinking some water. Richie sits up beside him, yawning.

Bill hums. He looks terribly pleased with himself, which can be good or bad depending which side of the story you’re on, and Eddie’s got this sneaking suspicion he’s on the wrong side, here. “Yeah, that life-altering thing I tried to talk you two dipshits out of for longer than the actual ceremony took?”

“Ceremony?” Eddie asks, trying to feel back through his poor, poor brain to remember anything after slot machines and vibrant chatter and deceptively sweet beverages being passed to him. Richie’s head drops onto his shoulder as his arms wrap around Eddie’s waist. “Guh,” he says into the fabric of Eddie’s rumpled shirt. Habitually, Eddie reaches up to pat him consolingly on the head. Richie’s not one for mornings.

“Why don’t you take a look at your ring finger, birthday boy?” Bill says, but Eddie’s already frozen, because there was a flash when he raised his hand and he’s not entirely sure he’s believing what he’s seeing, and where the fuck did he even get the ring anyway, let alone a ring as nice as this? “Or, sorry, I should say: Mr. Tozier?”

Eddie... mostly ignores him, in favour of smacking Richie a few times on the skull to get his attention, hangovers be damned. “Richie,” he hisses, heart going a mile a minute. “The fuck did I do?”

Richie grumbles some kind of complaint, lifting his head from its safe space on Eddie’s shoulder, and when he follows Eddie’s gaze he lets out a kind of... laugh? More of a squawk, really. His left arm jerks off of Eddie’s waist lightning-quick, and then he’s holding up his own hand beside Eddie’s to show off their matching rings. “Oh my god,” he says, quiet (for Richie). A little bit of tension melts out of him. Then, “I think you mean, ‘the fuck did we do?’”

“Oh my god,” Eddie squeaks, and Bill loses his battle and dissolves into peals of laughter, remote slipping out of his hands and landing somewhere on the floor. “Bill, you were supposed to be babysitting.”

It takes a while, but Bill manages to regain his composure long enough to say, “Well forgive me, but you were a man on a mission. I distinctly remember a lot of, ‘we’re practically dating anyway’ and ‘no time like the present’ and ‘Bill, if you don’t step the fuck off I’m gonna shove this ring so far up your nostril you’ll be sneezing gold until you’re ninety.’ What was I gonna do about it?”

“Oh my god,” Eddie says again, red-faced, mortified, heart still going-going-going. They aren’t dating, though, is the problem, and yeah, he’s always had this stupid little idea in his stupid little head that they might as well be, but he’s never asked, because he wasn’t sure if he should. Wasn’t sure if it was safe. Wasn’t sure if Richie wanted something proper or to just stay very, very close friends until the grave. They weren’t dating, and now they’re married, and ohJesusMaryandJoseph why did he let himself get so drunk last night?

He doesn’t expect Richie to be resentful or anything, but he’s also an anxious mess by default, and post-drunken-haze Eddie is a different, apparently less chill person than mid-drunken-haze Eddie, because he doesn’t remember having this freakout last night.

He doesn’t think that Richie will be pissed about it, necessarily, but he’s terrified that Richie’s going to want to... undo this, somehow.

He expects regret.

He doesn’t expect Richie to slide his hand against Eddie’s so that their rings clack together, letting out a soft little, “Aw,” as he does so, or to press his scratchy, stubbly face against Eddie’s cheek to plant a kiss there, or to say, just as quiet and soft as ever, “We’re married, Eds.”

“Is that okay?” Eddie asks, heart in his throat, wondering if he somehow forced Richie into this when he wasn’t in full control of his faculties.

“More than okay,” Richie says. “Is it okay with you?”

Eddie nods dumbly, staring at their rings again, wondering what the fuck possessed them to make such a rash, life-altering decision like this, yet understanding all too well that his love for Richie is too big to contain and it has to spill out in little doses like this, or it’ll probably kill him, or make him go crazy. “Yeah,” he says finally, nodding perhaps too fast. “Yeah, Richie, it’s more than okay.”

He turns in Richie’s arms to kiss him properly, apparently not for the first time, and just the action brings a couple snippets of last night’s escapades abruptly to the surface.

“$25 Weddings,” a pink neon sign outside a squat white chapel proclaims, “Sincere and Dignified.” And below that, in smaller, baby blue lettering: “Can provide: Flowers, Rings, Witnesses, Transportation, Attire...” The list goes on. It’s a wonder Eddie is coherent enough to read it, let alone comprehend it, but he’s rounding on Richie, whose arm he’s hanging off of, with the best fucking idea already leaping from his lips.

“Ffffffuck Kaspbrak,” Eddie slurs as a reluctant Bill helps him slip on a suit jacket, fiddling with the purple clip-on bowtie Richie threw over the divider at him. “Fuck Kaspbrak, right, Rich?”

“Right,” Richie says enthusiastically -- probably too enthusiastically -- from the other side of the thin wooden divider that separates their “changing rooms.”

“Fuck that name,” Eddie decides, nodding to himself. Bill takes the bowtie out of his hands with a sigh, and Eddie lifts his chin to let Bill fasten it to his shirt, grumbling all the while about how stupid they both are. “And fuck my mom.”

“Fuck your mom!” Richie shouts. There’s a beat of relative quiet, then, “Not, like, fuck your mom, obviously. Fuck... you, maybe?” And then Bev’s raucous laughter echoes through the whole room.

Eddie can’t help laughing with her, even though Bill’s insisting he stay still “so you can at least look semi-presentable for your pictures, c’mon, Eddie, this is a big moment for me, too.”

“How are you the bridezilla, here, Bill?”

“Could you please just work with me here, I swear to-- agh!” (More laughter from Bev. Stan saying something incomprehensible but loud and boisterous. Mike trying to shush them.) “I’m just trying to make sure this is actually special since you absolute buffoons refuse to just wait and do this right.” Is Bill fucking crying?

Richie’s tongue down Eddie’s throat, over and over and over: in the chapel; in a bar; in front of the bar; just before Bill drags them away from the casino they’re trying to sneak back into and instead towards the station wagon he’s doing his best to herd the Losers to; in the station wagon; in front of the motel.

Bill prying them apart with minimal assistance from a piss-drunk Ben who insists he’s “helping,” telling them once again that they are not allowed to consummate their fucking marriage in public, and especially not allowed to do it in the motel room all seven of them have to sleep in--

He hears Bev’s little “aww” behind him somewhere as he and Richie break apart, and Stan’s grief about how fucking early it is “for this shit.” Eddie can hear something like a smile in his voice, if not just plain old amusement.

“We’re married, Rich,” Eddie repeats incredulously, and Bill is saying something about their marriage license in his wallet because neither of them can be trusted, but Eddie couldn’t care less about licenses or whatever, because Richie’s smiling down at him in that way that makes his heart feel too full. And he doesn’t mean to, but a choked noise bubbles up out of him, almost a sob, maybe a laugh. Tears burn in his eyes.

But that’s alright, because Richie’s crying already, and he wraps himself bodily around Eddie, rolling them over so he’s squishing him into the mattress while he kisses all over his face and his throat until Eddie’s squealing with laughter despite his agonizing hangover. He almost feels too good to care about it now, but he’s definitely getting some water and painkillers into his system the second the weird high he’s feeling subsides.

“Okay, okay,” says Stan, standing above them suddenly, swatting at Richie’s shoulders. “You’ve had your fun. Noisy assholes. We were too drunk for proper congratulations last night. Move over.”

All the Losers squeeze themselves onto the queen bed, somehow, and water bottles and aspirin get passed around. At some point Bill gets up to start the coffeemaker and comes back with (good fucking lord) their “wedding photos” in a crisp manila envelope. They’re just as gaudy as he expected. Leave it to Richie to find the ugliest possible outfit for his literal wedding.

Eddie gets hugs and shoulder-squeezes and cheek-kisses from everyone, over and over, and Bev actually cries for about ten full minutes while she holds him, then at least ten more while she holds Richie, and then Ben cries, and... well, they all end up crying all over each other, but it’s awash with joy. “We’re happy for you,” they keep saying, and Eddie’s happy for them, too. He didn’t expect to accidentally do things this way, but he has to be glad it happened.

“God,” he says a while later, shaking his head as he sips sugary coffee from the mug he and Richie are sharing (this room is meant for four people, max, not seven, and is equipped accordingly). He’s still examining a picture of Richie attempting to give him a piggy-back ride out of the chapel. Bill is visible in the background, eyes red and puffy, a wad of tissues clenched in his hand while Mike tries to console him. Eddie has been making fun of him for about half an hour now. “My mom would flip if I told her about this.” But the thought doesn’t scare him. He doesn’t get scared of her anymore. Not like he used to. Not when he’s so far away and he feels so safe with these six idiots who bring so much joy to his life.

Richie’s thumb rubs over the skin of his lower back where his hand has crept up Eddie’s shirt. “Good thing you don’t have to,” he says, and that familiar mantra of “You never have to see her again,” bleeds through, plain as ever.

Eddie hums. Passes the coffee back to him. “I know. But... I kinda want to. Just to watch her head explode,” he says with a shrug and a grin, earning a chorus of easy laughter from his friends. He stares at the ring on Richie’s finger as Richie throws back the rest of their coffee, something warm and familiar blooming brighter in his chest.

#reddie #my writing #oh look i actually found time in the chaos of my life to post this #a miracle #also a fic short enough to just post the whole thing on tumblr???#a second miracle #the losers club #cw alcohol #cw gambling #vegas wedding babey

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everlastingfable · 3 years

Text

a jumbled mess of my thoughts about voltron

This’ll probably be the messiest post you’ll ever read. I’m done trying to finish this and edit it into something coherent, so I’m just combining the 3 drafts I have written out into one massive post. I doubt anyone will read this whole thing, but each draft is a sort of rewrite of the last, so there’s a lot of overlap. But there’s also a lot of new thoughts too as I kept thinking about this. There’s also a lot of unfinished thoughts.

There’s mostly negativity in this btw. This fandom had/has an amazing ability in making you think that this show was utter garbage. on par with riv//erdale or s//pn, but it really wasn’t. Like many shows they had weak points, it was never perfect, but it’s much better than we’re told to remember it as.

Intro from Draft 3 because I liked the way I started it:

This is all of my thoughts about Voltron, the show itself and the fandom. I have tried to write this post out for over a year or two now, so it was originally intended to be my final thoughts about the show. Obviously, it’s evolved since then into whatever this is. There may be some things that I’ll be wrong about, because I’m not about to dig through hundreds of discourse posts and old interview videos to prove a point that I doubt anyone’s gonna care about. This will 100% be based on my thoughts, opinions, and experiences.

That said, I don’t even know how to begin to describe how much I love this show. I’m probably one of the few people who have no regrets about enjoying this show as much as I do. I’d wholeheartedly recommend watching it, because it’s genuinely a good show. Voltron did the unimaginable for me. I don’t usually enjoy sci-fi stories. I especially don’t enjoy mecha stories. Yet somehow, Voltron combined the two and made a show that I loved so much I can’t stop thinking about it even though it ended over 2 years ago.

Draft 1: thoughts about a year after it ended without rewatching any seasons since it ended

It’s been about a year since voltron ended. I never wrote my thoughts about s8/the show then so here it is now. Because I decided to wait a year I honestly don’t remember a lot of specifics. But I still have a lot to say about it. This is very long and is basically everything I have to say about this show. I love voltron. It’s been an important part of my life during college. 90% of all papers I wrote were about voltron. But as much as I love it, I won’t deny that it fell apart at the end.

Note: I tried to categorize these thoughts so I don’t get off topic and can talk about everything fully. But because they overlap so much there’s definitely some minor repeats when I connect two parts but decided to hold off talking about it all the way until the right section.

PRODUCTION

This is something I’ve expressed concern over while it was airing, but in a span of 2 and a half years, they premiered 78 episodes. That’s a lot, especially when you consider that production for s3 started after s1 premiered. There’s a lot of really good voltron review videos out there that aren’t just “oh I’m so cool I hate voltron” but there was one that talked about how the production was a mess and the writers couldn’t make up their mind for the endgame ship. And while that doesn’t sound like an important issue, it really does show when it comes to how characters are written together and (I think) the fandom war.

Summarizing what that video said because I don’t remember who made it, the writers/producers never made up their mind on which ship was supposed to be endgame (klance, sheith, allurance, kallura). And this really does show in the show itself. I don’t like klance. I especially hate it because of my experience with the fandom, but I won’t deny that they were sometimes written romantically. The same goes for sheith. And that’s the problem.

I don’t think the world building parts of the show was fully developed either. Shiro was supposed to be a teen like everyone else but then he was an adult. His and keith’s relationship was honestly vague for a good while. I don’t think anyone really knew how each characters’ relationships with each other was supposed to progress. Was allurance always supposed to be endgame? Because they didn’t really interact that much until like season 6, and then it was kinda sudden from what I remember. There was very little, if at all, parts where we were shown oh allura might like lance romantically. Keith’s relationship with the main cast didn’t exist for like 3 seasons. It was messy.

Speaking of which, keith disappeared for a good portion of the show. I assume it’s because steven yeun was busy. Which is fine but then I think about how quickly voltron came and went, I wonder why they couldn’t slow down a bit so they could still have steven voice keith during those episodes. Maybe it’s because of how much I love keith, but he honestly felt like a central character to me.

If I think about teen titans, for example, this show also had 5 main characters. Sometimes certain characters would get a spotlight for a season, but all-in-all they were fairly equally represented. It didn’t feel like robin was the main character. But that’s how I feel about voltron. Keith, and shiro to an extent are the main characters. A good portion of the plot relies on them. Shiro got kidnapped, keith leads them to the blue lion. Shiro is the leader with keith has his right-hand man and they mostly interact with each other. So when shiro “dies” and keith takes over, it starts to feel like keith is now the main character. Now he’s the leader and the arc is about him growing into becoming the black paladin and stopping lotor, who is his main enemy. But then he disappears.

Again this is most likely because of my bias towards keith, but the episodes after that felt lackluster. Lance didn’t really get his character growth to become a good second-in-command. Because that development was supposed to be based around keith. :P. A big part of lance’s growth is to learn to stop needing to feel that he’s better than keith. And him accepting keith as the black paladin was a huge part of it. But with shiro as the leader again lance loses that development. Keith’s not in the picture anymore, and the person in-charge was already in a leadership position and has nothing to learn by being there.

Before I go way too deep into my thoughts about the plot/characterization, I do want to mention the animation. The fighting scenes are amazing and one of the most beautiful 2d animation I’ve seen. That is, when it is actually animated and not just the camera panning on a still image. Here’s where my biggest concern over the time comes in. 2 years is absolutely not enough time to animate that many episodes. I was genuinely worried for the animation company because it could not have been a good experience. And yes, we got more episodes sooner, the quality definitely dropped and it’s a real shame. Who knows when we’ll get another american cartoon in this style. I love this animation style but it takes time and a lot of skills to do, so not that many companies do it. I honestly wished they took their time with the show not just to get more time to animate, but also to flesh out some of the plot.

PLOT

As hunk said in one episode, they don’t linger on dramatic events that just happened. This show is very fast paced, and that’s not a bad thing. But they never took the time they needed to really feel the weight of everything that happens. Keith’s galra heritage reveal was basically swept under the rug. So was the shiro clone, lotor’s death, zarkon’s death, naxzela, and so many more. In general, that was a big problem with how the episodes went. If it wasn’t for the sheer number of fanfics covering those topics, they were really swept under the rug. It honestly kinda felt like the writers didn’t know what to do with the aftermath of their reveals. But some of these were pretty essential to the plot of the story.

Keith’s part galra! So he doesn’t look it but there had to be obstacles with voltron forming the coalition. He’s part of the race that caused this war. I honestly think we should’ve seen that reveal become part of the plot, or what was the point of it? They could’ve just as easily wrote keith to be a regular human just like everyone else. Taking the time to add that part of his character needs to have some significance in the story. And yeah, they had krolia appear but she wasn’t really a significant character except to kinda magically fix keith’s problems. In general it felt like they forgot parts that they were foreshadowing with keith. Why could he turn purple sometimes? Did that quintessence he was hit with fix him or help him hide the galra parts? Why does he look so human? What is up with him having that quintessence sensitivity? I’m all for shows ending with some questions unanswered because sometimes it’s impossible to answer it all and let it feel natural, but this just felt like they forgot or decided it’s too much of a hassle and just ignored it.

Okay going into more specifics now, s8 was kinda meh. It especially felt bad because it came out the same day as spiderverse which had a very similar villain motivation, but objectively done better. I think honerva’s motivation came out of nowhere. We see in the flashback episode that she was so intent on getting knowledge that it literally destroyed daibazaal. So, it was established that her motivation is knowledge. Even though she lost her memory and regained it, as haggar she was still very focused on quintessence. We know she was gathering a lot of it, and maybe they said it and I forgot, but we never knew why. Family wasn’t really shown as a motivation for her. Even with lotor it didn’t seem like she wanted to be a family again, but instead was using him for her own unknown motivations. Anyways, the season felt awkward. And the new dynamic they had really needed more time. The last season should’ve expanded to be at least 2 more. It would’ve fit a lot better imo. S1-2 would have zarkon as the main villain, s3-6 would have lotor, and s7-8 would have haggar, who was also the puppeteer throughout the entire show. But she didn’t appear for s7 and her motivations didn’t really make sense in s8 so it evidently felt rushed. There were also so many major characters in s8 we needed more time to see them interact.

So the ending with allura becoming constellations. Gonna be honest that whole last part had me confused. Especially with the fact that I barely remember what happened, why are the old paladins like trapped in the lions? I could excuse the other 4 but zarkon? Especially a zarkon that’s not corrupted? It was weird and didn’t make a whole lot of sense, and that’s all I’ll say about that. I don’t even want to try to suggest an alternative because I think that whole last half of the season is so messy it can’t be fixed. But it was so obviously pandering to the fandom it hurt. Lance getting those marks was so obviously referencing when people wanted lance to be altean in response to keith’s galra heritage. The shiro/curtis kiss was very “look see he is gay and not just because we said so” while nice, was very weak (why wasn’t keith in the shot?).

Despite my complaints, I remember liking s8. I really liked the addition of the atlas, even though it didn’t feel like we were watching voltron anymore sometimes. S7 had to be one of my favorite episodes since s2. Not to say that s7 is better or worse, but I really like it because it felt like a genre shift. I usually don’t like space sci-fi or mecha stories. Voltron somehow managed to combine the two and make me love it. S7 did not feel like either of those. First, a good half of it took place on earth. And I believe two episodes didn’t even have the main cast, and when team voltron finally made it to earth, voltron wasn’t even there until the final battle. I genuinely loved it. I think it was a very well done invasion/apocalyptic story that doesn’t get told in animation that often. But if I think about s7 with the rest of the show, it was awful. It broke up the tone the show usually had and it was a very different way of storytelling that voltron didn’t have before. It wasn’t a space sci-fi mecha story, it was an apocalyptic action story. Voltron was so unimportant they sat on a moon for episodes. It stopped becoming voltron and started becoming a spin-off.

I do have to add that I absolutely loved the color themes in s7. We already had purple for the galra, but in s7 it was very obvious that alteans are themed blue and earth is themed with orange. I loved it so much and it was great. I do like that they gave shiro something to do. Honestly not killing him off in s2 made him an awkward character afterwards. But I didn’t like that they brought back sendak. There was no explanation for it and it wasn’t good imo. He didn’t really do anything besides conquer earth then die. Haggar was also absent the entire season which definitely didn’t help her storyline in s8 because we didn’t know what she was doing the entire time except abandoning everyone who was loyal to her.

I’m usually not a fan of time skips, it has the tendency to gloss over character development or create glossed over recap. Honestly I wish voltron spent more time over the blade of marmora massacre or just the bom in general. They received no rest. Literally everyone part of that group died except for kolivan. Speaking of that episode, there was no explanation for how keith was able to know where macidus was about to appear and that honestly bugs me. There’s so much about keith we don’t know. He has so many abilities we were just never told.

Again a lot of problems within team voltron is that there was never any follow up on things that happened, like keith leaving the team. He becomes the black paladin and no one bats an eye. Lance did make one comment about keith leaving but then it wasn’t ever mentioned again. I get that the writers/producers wanted the dynamic the original had, but they didn’t take the time to work up to it. Keith wasn’t a natural leader, but he suddenly is because he spent 2 years on a space whale with his mom and a space wolf. Like I mentioned earlier, voltron feels like keith is the main character but then they dropped him for a few episodes, realized that he’s important and added him back in while saying “oh he went through a time skip so he grew into the role he needs to be in now”. It feels like a cheap pay off.

I’d like to specifically talk about my thoughts on each season and work back but honestly I don’t think I can remember s3-6 separately. So they’re being chunked together.

Lotor had the potential to be a really great villain. But he had to be foiled with keith. They have a lot of similarities that I think could’ve really played off well together. Lotor isn’t really allowed to have a leadership position. Yeah he was technically in charge while zarkon was recovering, but haggar didn’t really allow him full control. But, he was a great leader. He knew how to read his enemies and form an alliance. Meanwhile, keith had a leadership position thrusted to him, and frankly he wasn’t a good leader. He tends to keep to himself so he never really has to make decisions with a team. It could’ve been great, but shiro had to still be in the story. I’m honestly conflicted about this because on the one hand, I think it really ruined character developments for the main cast, but then I loved the clone shiro plot line. I think keeping shiro prevented keith from growing. He was able to remain dependent on shiro instead of actually bonding with the rest of the paladins. And of course he had to just go awol. Also, lance didn’t really get to have as prominent of a role as I think he could’ve had with keith.

These seasons are also when the lions stopped being sentient robots that specifically choose their paladins to just really cool spaceships. We don’t get that level of bonding that was so prominent in s1 and 2. That’s also something I’m conflicted with. I think the lion swap was a great way for character developments, but it also removed a lot of it. It kinda made the bonding feel useless. The swap also changed the dynamic of the group. Instead of shiro and allura being co-leaders, and everyone else feeling like they’re on equal footing, it felt like Keith was the leader with lance being a needed right-hand man. Hunk and pidge were off doing their thing and allura was a leader but also not. Maybe if they had spent more time working with this dynamic it would’ve felt better. But they didn’t and it didn’t. Voltron also implied that allura was the only one that could control the castle ship, but then she goes to become a paladin and who’s driving the ship?

I do wish we could’ve gotten more about the altean colony and the reveal about lotor’s plans, but that got overshadowed and forgotten by the clone shiro reveal. Maybe I just missed it, but I wasn’t sure what the galra empire and lotor were collecting quintessence for. Was it just to make mechs to rival voltron? Lotor’s death was also very unclear.

The coalition was a much needed thing, but I think very badly executed. They were gathering people from malls. These people are regular civilians who probably don’t know how to fight or fly a ship. I thought it was really weird that they were just getting regular people (aliens?) to sign up like they’re applying to be part of the army. But we never see them maybe join the rebel force matt is part of to learn how exactly to help. I think about avatar and how they also had a rag tag group of people to fight against the fire nation, but these weren’t just regular people living in a village. They were either warriors or very skilled benders. The voltron coalition was just regular people. That genuinely annoyed me because the voltron show just felt like those army propaganda ads, but exciting. Not to mention it was a very hard to watch episode.

It was definitely making fun of how the fandom complains about how characters are getting reduced to a certain characteristic. But it wasn’t done in an entertaining way like the ember island players episode from atla because some of those were legit complaints (like hunk being the fat/food guy) and that stuff wasn’t resolved. Like the ember island players made fun of sokka constantly talking about meat or katara crying all the time, but the show made it very clear beforehand that these characters are much more than that. Is hunk really more than the food guy? As far as the show mentions, the only things he’s done was make the machine to help find the blue lion, and help save the balmera. All of which was in season 1. After that hunk honestly took the backseat in voltron.

I mentioned earlier, but the time skip on the space whale felt like we were cheated out of keith’s character development. I mean we got development, but we didn’t get to see it. The vlog short showed that keith believes a lot of his problems stems from not having a mom (and a dad) in his life. But instead of seeing keith learning to trust and open up to people despite having so many people in his life leaving him, we get a cute montage of him with his mom. As if it makes sense that two years with his mom would fix everything. (side note, I know a lot of people were saying how obvious it was that krolia was keith’s mom, I genuinely did not know until she said so at the end of that episode).

I’m not gonna talk about my thoughts on s1 and 2 because I’m pretty sure I live blogged those and honestly I don’t think I remember it.

CHARACTERS

Now I’m finally talking about the characters and I’m starting off with keith as if I haven’t talked about him enough already. I love keith. He’s undeniably one of my (if not the) favorite characters ever. And he’s obviously a fandom favorite if we’re considering the two biggest ships in the fandom. Or maybe he really is just the secret main character of voltron. We know so much about him, for someone who loves keith, it’s great. We basically know his entire backstory, and yet we know no one else’s (except maybe lotor but even that’s iffy).

I never rewatched a single voltron episode since it ended, and I can’t watch any of the connected shows (meaning shows that have the same ppl that worked on it or the same fans, think dragon prince and she-ra) because the fandom was the absolute worst one I’ve ever been in and parts legit trigger me. I am fascinated with fandoms. I love it. I chose my major because it was the closest I could get to just learning about them 24/7. But the voltron fandom was so incredibly toxic and over two ships? Honestly the fandom itself was a major reason why I couldn’t get super invested in the later seasons. I get afraid when it seems like a certain ship might happen. I actually hoped that certain characters just didn’t interact. (I’m not gonna get much deeper in this because I don’t want to touch this topic with a ten-foot pole, at least not now) Aside from that, I think that the plot and characterizations for voltron got really messy post s2. The lion switch was never handled well imo, and post switch the lions lost that sentient personality that was established in the first two seasons. It also didn’t make sense aside from the writers wanted everyone in the original lions. Or at least, we never got the proper character developments into those roles. Keith left right after becoming the black paladin.

I think another major problem with the show is how some decisions felt like pandering. I remember hearing that they didn’t kill off shiro because he was a fan favorite, so he had to stay for marketing and to make more money. But then keeping shiro alive would’ve derailed the original plot idea. I wish I could see how the story would’ve played out with shiro staying dead.

Draft 2: rewatched the show then started writing this

So I wrote a draft of this like a year ago, realized I don’t remember the show much, so I rewatched the whole show and started rewriting my thoughts.

Pre-rewatch thoughts: It was a good show that was poorly executed

Mid-rewatch thoughts: it’s a really good show that just has some weak points (the second half of lotor’s arc, team voltron’s importance in season 4-6 it feels like a lot of filler episodes until keith shows up again)

End-rewatch thoughts: it's actually a really good show. It has some weak points and some really strong points. Season 8 was confusing though. I went through most of it going yeah okay I guess that can happen.

Final verdict: it's a genuinely good show

What went wrong

It ended on its weakest season, which was also the most abstract and different season. While the main antagonist changed throughout the seasons, it still continued to be the galra empire. Even when lotor joined, the team was still fighting fractions of the galra empire. Meanwhile, season 8 didn’t have any conflict with the galra. The antagonists were honerva and the alteans, who are very different types of villains compared to the galra. There was also little build up to that change. Sure, we got to experience that briefly in season 3 when they went to the alternate reality, but I don’t think that was built up well. Also, the protagonists and the audience are just not prepared. We don’t know how the alteans work like the extent of their abilities, but we were given dozens of episodes to learn about the galra. As a result season 8 just wound up with me feeling confused and thinking “uhh sure I guess they can do that, that makes sense maybe?”

It could not pick who its protagonist is. Yeah the five humans plus allura (and coran?) are the main characters but most shows with multiple major characters still focus one one character as the protagonist. Like atla has aang, adventure time has finn, umbrella academy has five. Voltron just never picks someone and the group constantly changes too, so you end up having to not focus on any character for the sake of time. Of course not all shows do that. Teen Titans had each season focus on a particular member of the team, and tbh I was wondering if that was what they were planning for the show, especially when season 2 was so Keith focused but guess not.

It feels like they did not have the time to fully flesh out the story. Voltron came and went so incredibly fast. They had 8 seasons (technically 6 if you group up the halved seasons). But also the show only lasted 2 years. It honestly horrifies me to think of the time crunch everyone on the team was going through, especially the animators. You can see the drop in quality as there were very few scenes that involved actual animation for the middle bulk of the show. So then, how much time did they have to develop the story, in addition to execs telling them what they can and can’t do. There’s so many arcs that seemed to start then get forgotten, and I don’t blame the writers for that at all. Although I wish we could’ve learned more about Lance and the Altean sword and Keith with his apparent quintessence sensitivity, they probably just didn’t have the time to plot those out.

It had too much outside influence. Such as, the writers wanting to kill off shiro, but then being forced to keep him on the show because the execs said to. And honestly, the fandom. For example, the whole last episode with Lance getting the Altean marks (an obvious omage to ppl wanting Altean Lance).

What went right

There’s a reason why the show became so popular (aside from being a reboot of a popular 80′s show) and it’s because of the characters. I’m not about the whole “we become attached to characters because the writers did them wrong but we fans can see the potential and that’s why fan works are better” bs that I see going around this site all the time. The first season particularly wrote these characters so well. They’re relatable but also intriguing enough for you to care about what’s going to happen to them.

Some thoughts regarding popular fandom discussions:

It’s a plot-driven show with character-focused fans

I like to think of there being two ways to tell a story: by being character-focused or plot-driven. Plot driven shows are ones like atla, young justice, legend of korra, etc. There’s a conflict that gets introduced and the story revolves around that conflict. Character-focused shows are ones like adventure time or we bare bears, they’re less concerned about a plot line and focus more on the characters interacting with their world. Of course all stories incorporate both parts, just some focus more on one than the other. So, here’s where I think a lot of the issues about voltron and the fandom comes from. Voltron is a very obviously plot-driven show but the fandom is very character-focused. I won’t deny I loved the episodes about keith. Season 4 and 5 were hard for me to watch because I missed my boy. But that’s where the arguments come from. People get upset that their fav isn’t in the spotlight

It didn’t queerbait

I understand watching a show for representation, I really do, but voltron is not that show and that's okay. Not every show has to be revolutionary in its representation of marginalized people. I won't pretend to know the harmful tropes for marginalized people. My consumption of media is not usually diverse. But I will stand by my stance that a large part of voltron's later seasons is about the casualties of war. So of course a lot of people died. I also firmly believe that the producers had a much easier time adding diversity to their own created characters than the main voltron characters, because of rights and all that complicated nonsense. So as a result the ones who were more expendable and could die were also the same characters that they could add diversity too.

I’m gonna add the definition of queerbait here so we’re all on the same page: Queerbait is a marketing technique for fiction and entertainment in which creators hint at, but then do not actually depict, same-sex romance or other LGBTQ representation.

But here’s the thing. We were told at comic-con or one of those cons that Shiro is gay, and he had a boyfriend. They actually gave us that. Yeah it wasn’t as explicit as She-ra got, but that’s another point for later. There was no lying about it. Shiro is canonically gay, and his boyfriend was Adam. If anything, this whole thing came out of wanting Keith in a relationship with Shiro or Lance. Yes. I will admit, there are plenty of scenes between Keith and Lance, and Keith and Shiro that can be read as romantic. Someone correct me if I’m wrong but did any of the cast members tease the possibility of Kl//ance or Sh//eith (VAs don’t count, sorry but they don’t really have a say in the story)? Because unless they did, and they did repeatedly, the fandom queerbaited themselves. So many people in the fandom were so certain that Keith would be in a relationship with one of them, there was basically an all out war. Even if there was a chance, did you really think the creators (who were pretty active in early fandom days) would continue that development? It was so so toxic they were forced to shut off any possibilities of that.

In regards to minority characters

Again, I'll admit vld is not the place to go for real, proper representation. Their characters tend to be characters that happen to be a part of a minority rather than a minority character. wtf does that mean? Well, you can swap (earth) races for just about any character and it wouldn't make too much of a difference in how they act. There's some lines that wouldn't work like Lance's "I'm just a boy from Cuba" but other than that there would be no significant change. Of course this goes down to preference. Would you want a minority character whose struggles reflect those in real life and as a result be defined by that aspect of themselves, or do you want a character that just happens to be a part of a minority group but whose life is not really affected by that?

Draft 3: months after the rewatch, mostly an attempt to reorganize the previous two drafts

I’m gonna start with the negatives just to get the ranting off my chest. Season 8 was bad. Yeah. No argument there. Although I wouldn’t say it was bad in the same way Game of Thrones and Supernatural was bad. Rather, it was an interesting and complex premise that didn’t have the build up it needed and honestly needed a few more passthroughs to iron out some parts. At worse, I felt it was confusing to the point where I just accepted whatever new worldbuilding thing they threw at me. The issue with Season 8 vs Seasons 1-7 is that Season 8 had a completely different villain, and a brand new cast dynamic. We got 7 seasons (65 episodes) developing the Galra as the villain. We got to learn who they are, their motives, how they operate, etc. Not only that, but they were pretty basic and easy to understand villains. They’re conquerors. They don’t have any sort of magic, they really just use brute force to attack and enslave the planets. In striking contrast, the Alteans in Season 8 weren’t conquerors. They didn’t care about controlling the universe. They also had magic abilities that our main characters don’t understand and didn’t explore. Season 8 had villains who could create illusions, mind control, and manipulate quintessence. The Alteans are leagues beyond the Galra in terms of complexities as an antagonist, but they didn’t get nearly enough time to be fully developed.

Also, Season 8 essentially doubled the cast size. So despite the fact that we have yet to see much of Keith-as-the-black-paladin Voltron group dynamic, now that screentime is being balanced with the MFE pilots and other Garrison characters. Essentially, there were too many characters, and too little time to flesh out the ideas of this season. A side note, Haggar’s (Honerva?) motivations were lame. I think it would’ve been much more interesting if her plans were just to continue the research she did 10,000 years ago with the rift. That would’ve also brought back the rift monsters which we never got an answer for. What even are they? Instead, her goal to have a family again is really weak. Even in the flashbacks she never showed any care for the more familial aspects of her life. It didn’t make sense for that to be her drive. It also didn’t help that Season 8 came out on like the same day as Spiderverse and the antagonists for both had the same goal, but Spiderverse did an immensely better job.

Another thing that didn’t make sense to me was Keith giving the speech to the rest of the Galra. He is not the right character to give that speech. Sure he’s Galra, but he didn’t even know for most of his life. For him to say “we” like he’s also a citizen of the Galra empire feels so weird. He never grew up with the Empire’s influence, and we never saw him experiencing Galra culture with the Blade. He learned about the Galra as an outsider, and despite the fact that he’s part Galra (he doesn’t even remotely look Galra), I don’t think that gives him the authority to say a speech like that. The speech is similar to Zuko’s at the end of ATLA, and that makes me feel like it would’ve been a lot better had Lotor said it. I think even Kolivan would’ve been a better fit than Keith.

The more I’m writing about Season 8, the more I’m remembering just how messy and confusing it was. Additionally, the last bit of Season 8 was so obviously pandering to the fandom it gives me second-hand embarrassment. Lance getting those marks was so obviously referencing when people wanted Lance to be Altean in response to Keith's galra heritage. The Shiro getting married was just to make it more obvious that he’s gay, but had no build up. (There were definitely more but I didn’t write myself a list and I’m not rewatching that season)

Second, “Voltron queerbaited”. [this was posted before here]

Speaking of which, Voltron premiered summer of 2016 and ended in winter of 2018. That’s about 2 and a half years where they aired 78 episodes. That’s stupid fast, especially for an animated series. I’m constantly worried about what the people working on that show had to endure. For sure, Season 3 with Shiro coming back wasn’t written until at least Season 1. I recalled the execs demanding that Shiro not be dead since he was a popular character. It’s honestly concerning how little time they had to work on the show, and it unfortunately showed. In the later seasons, a lot of the shots were just still frames that moved across the scene. And the plot line with Lotor could’ve used some work. Although, I think Shiro being forced in there was also a reason for it being so shaky.

I honestly hate Seasons 4 & 5. I cannot tell you what happened because my brain keeps erasing it. Obviously, the lack of Keith had a huge impact on my opinion of those seasons, but it also felt like a whole lot of filler episodes, and not the fun ones with character development. With Keith mostly out of the picture, and Lance becoming the right hand of Voltron, that should’ve been a great time to develop Lance to become a second-in-command. To have him go through an arc where he overcomes his insecurities. It would’ve also been an amazing time to develop his and Shiro’s relationship. But we didn’t get any of that.

I genuinely believe Keith was supposed to stay the black paladin and Shiro wasn’t supposed to come back. Keith would be an amazing foil to Lotor. They’re both half-Galra. They’ve both been given a new leadership role that they don’t want. The middle arc always felt so weak to me, and as I mentioned earlier, the Allura/Lotor interactions were awkward. It feels shoehorned in because someone has to interact with Lotor and I guess the writers decided Allura was the best option?

Season 3-6 felt like the epitome of what happens when showrunners are forced to do whatever the execs say and have no time to properly develop their story. I’ll forever be bitter at all the character and relationship development we lost because of that. We never got to see Keith really learn to open up to the team and start to trust others. But Keith still had to get to that point, which is why I assume they had the time jump for him. It’s so disappointing because we lost what could’ve been a great character development. It also made Keith being the Black Paladin again feel cheap. We didn’t get to see the struggle he had to be the leader Shiro saw he could be. He was just suddenly leading them and they worked like a proper team.

Voltron also had a lot of plot holes. Now, I don’t expect shows to answer every question, because it’s impossible to tie everything up and leave no questions unanswered in a natural way. But, there’s a lot of things that felt like the beginning of a plot line or honestly needed some answers. Like, Lance shifting his bayard to a sword. What was the point of that if it was never mentioned again? It felt like that was an important start to an arc for him that just got forgotten. Also, what was up with Keith’s quintessence sensitivity? How was he able to sense where that druid was. How did he know he could summon his bayard to him. I think the part that bugged me the most was that Keith was the only one who did that. Also, Keith’s eyes becoming slitted during his fight with Kuron was never addressed, and I really wish it was. It felt like such a throwaway moment that could’ve been interesting to explore more. Although I’m not too upset with that one as I think we were given enough to piece together a reason for it.

#have fun with this monstrosity of a post #over 7k words #personal #my thoughts about #frxstguardian #kingofthewilderwest #honestly the only two people this post was intended for #I give up!!

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sokkasangel · 4 years

Text

choices

»»——— bucky barnes x reader

summary: a villain who disagrees with bucky being put on the avengers team takes something near + dear to the super soldier...

word count: 3k

warnings: violence + swearing, guns, mentions of stalking & intrusive thoughts, & of course lots of angst

a/n: there will not be a second part to this fic! i’m sorry if that disappoints you, but this is meant to be angsty. also, i am trying to get to requests as fast as possible! i promise!

»»——— masterlist

how dare they let a evil killing machine on the team... do they even realize what kind of mistake they are making?! perhaps he’s brainwashed them, forced them into it.

don’t worry, avengers. i’ll save you...

༅ ~

for the past two weeks, you had felt a pair of eyes on you. everywhere you went, the feeling of being watched hung over you like a cloud. even walking into the avengers tower felt like an ordeal, like the paparazzi were nearby.

eventually, you thought it might not be just a feeling. you started to feel uneasy & unsafe. so you told your teammates. a few told you to shrug it off; maybe a fan was too afraid to ask for an autograph or picture. but your best friend & boyfriend knew better.

natasha was the first you had told. on the first day of this extravaganza, you mentioned your gut feeling to your friend over a glass of wine. she had guessed it was a fan, like steve & tony suggested. but once this reached the seven day point, she wondered if it was safe for you to go out alone.

sure, you were a kickass spy who worked with the avengers. but you knew your limits. & if this wasn’t just a little kid, you could be up against multiple opponents. you were strong & agile, but in a situation like that, you’d need backup.

after the first week, you decided it was time to let your boyfriend know. you wondered if it was even a good idea, telling him. he’d always been paranoid about this kind of thing. would this just pointlessly worry him?

you pushed that aside; however, because you were starting to get seriously creeped out. someone watching your every move?! who’d want to see what kind of vegetable you picked up from the grocery store, or what route you had taken to your favorite bakery?

so one day after work, after the heros retired to their separate floors, you approached your boyfriend. he complained about his exhausting day, making you doubt your decision once again.

yet, once again, you pushed past it. he needed to know. & you told him plain & simple: “i think i’m being watched & followed.”

after that little sentence, the super soldier unleashed all his feelings. his built up anger & fear & sadness & stress all jumbled together in one collective “WHAT?!”.

since you two had started dating, bucky tried to be vocal about his insecurities & worries about the both of you being heros, but it was hard for him. he didn’t want to nag you about being safe because it annoyed you, even though you knew he thought you were capable.

after you told him, he demanded that a bodyguard would be posted right by your side. at all times. forcefully, you refused. sure, you wanted to stay safe. but you didn’t want a babysitter.

but in this situation, bucky’s worries shadowed your freedom. besides, you could still do everything you wanted. it’s just that you had a six foot, buff man walking next to you. it was like having a quieter, balder bucky.

so your life had changed slightly. instead of that feeling of being watched, you had a babysitter & that overwhelming feeling.

that feeling was gut-renching at times. was some creep taking pictures of you? or were some villains planning something? were they planning a kidnapping?

it all messed with you. it congealed into anxiety, & that sat in your stomach like a stone.

༅~

we’re almost there, dear avengers.

soon you’ll be safe from him.

& i’m sorry dear, y/n. you shouldn’t have to be in the middle of this. but he’s forced you to work with him & be with him.

it’s all gone too far.

but it’ll be over soon...

༅~

“you sure you want to go out now?” natasha asked as you threw on your jacket. “it’s pouring outside.”

“yeah, i need to get out. it’s been a few days.” you smiled & moved to slip on your boots. “plus, i wanna smell the rain.”

after seeing the worried look on natasha’s face, you reassured her that you’d have your guard with you & that you wouldn’t go far.

you meant to say bye to bucky, but he wasn’t in your bedroom or in the common area. you shrugged it off & decided it wasn’t vital. you were only going to be gone for fifteen minutes.

the air outside was crisp. for it only being september, your breath had taken the form of a tiny puff of smoke. you always loved that. sure, you were well into adulthood, but you liked pretending you were smoking.

you turned to your bodyguard — who rudely still did not tell you his name — & expected to at least smile at your childish reaction. but he just stared harshly. ouch.

you started to walk away from the tower’s entrance. your umbrella covered you, & you could hear the guard’s footsteps behind you. always one step behind.

you walked past a few businesses & shops. you were just going to reach the nearest intersection then turn around. about halfway through your path, a large alleyway separated the groups of buildings.

when you reached it, you didn’t notice but your bodyguard had been practically sucked up by the alley & it’s darkness. his footsteps had stopped, but you were paying attention to the cars & pattering of raindrops.

“it’s nice outside, huh?” you asked. a few moments had gone by without response. “you could at least resp-“

when you turned to give the large man a smug face, all you saw was an empty sidewalk. looking around, you actually noticed that no one was out. this was strange; no matter the weather, there was usually at least one other person out walking.

“guard? hello~ mr. bodyguard?”

you backtracked to the alley. maybe he found something?

when you peeked from behind the building’s corner, you saw two large men in suits standing over your guard, who had obviously taken a beating. his face was already bleeding & turning blue. he had a scarf around his mouth & handcuffs on.

a particularly tall, skinny man stood away from them. he had a lighter suit than the pair & laughed at the guard on the ground. but after his chuckle, you could hear the faintest apology.

almost as if he sensed your presence, he spoke as your neared the entrance of the alley.

“hello, y/n. again i am so sorry for what’s about to happen.”

before you could respond in any way, you felt hands all over you, restraining any movement. this wasn’t like you. normally, you had fast reflexes. but now you were at the mercy of two men.

maybe it was seeing someone bigger than you struggle against them. or maybe it was the tall man. either way, you were now trapped. & you finally knew what that overwhelming feeling alluded to.

༅~

natasha watched the clock while you were gone. even before these past two week, she had always watched over you in that sense. she never had such a close friend before, & she’d be damned before she let anything happen to you.

so now more than ever, she watched you like a hawk. she counted the minutes as soon as you walked out that door.

fifteen minutes had passed about thirty minutes ago. she planned to just stay put, knowing you’d chew her a new one if she called asking about you.

but this was agony.

she had to do something. so she called bucky, asking if you had come back. he replied saying he didn’t even know you were gone. so now the two closest people to you were now panicking.

bucky yelled for f.r.i.d.a.y. to check your location. she told him your last location was 0.8 miles away from the tower about 30 minutes ago. over the intercom, she said she couldn’t track you anymore.

bucky started to scream about how he knew you shouldn’t have gone out, & how he should have kept a closer eye on you.

everything was getting out of control already.

so bucky set out for tony & steve, with natasha right behind. he’d do anything at this point, before he even knew what was happening. he was supposed to be the one protecting you. he shouldn’t have ever let something like this happen.

“we have to find her. now.”

༅~

“again, i’m deeply sorry for this intrusion, y/n.”

this was the first thing you heard as you awoke.

blinking profusely, you tried to gather yourself. your head pounded, & your joints felt so soar. still, you forced yourself awake. looking around you saw that you were in a dingy room with bright lights. the smell of cigarettes encapsulated the space.

yep, you were definitely kidnapped.

you recalled everything before this point. taking a walk, your bodyguard, the alleyway, the two suited men, being tied up, being knocked out...

you swiped your tongue over your teeth, making sure they hadn’t punched you that hard. luckily, you still had all your teeth.

“i’m not going to seriously hurt you, y/n.” the man spoke again. “unless he doesn’t compromise, that is.”

“wh- wait. who? who’s ‘he’? wait, wait. where’s my bodyguard? what’d you do to him?” you wiggled in your seat. you felt your calves scratch against the legs of the chair. your hands were tied to the arms, so you could see the marks on your wrist. they were bright red.

“he’ll be fine.” the man, who had been standing in front of you, took a step closer. “he might not want a hero life anymore, but he’ll be okay.”

“who- who are you? & who’s ‘he’?” you barked. the feeling of peace from hearing the guard was okay was short-lived. now adrenaline coursed through your body.

“well, if i told you my name, it’d all be over,” he chuckled through his scratchy voice. “on the other hand, ‘he’ is who you call “baby”.”

“b-bucky? what do you- what does this have to do with bucky?” you wrestled with yourself in the chair again, making your wrists burn.

“the winter soldier has everything to do with this.” the man started to pace about the room. “he’s the whole reason you are here.”

you stopped moving.

bucky? how is he the reason? he didn’t put you here, did he?

“i see the look on your face, & don’t worry. the winter soldier is not behind this. i am.” he pulled a chair from the side of the room & dragged it in front of you. he sat on it backwards, straddling the chair. “now, i’ll explain before he gets here- oh, that reminds me.”

the suited man reached into his coat pocket. he pulled out a pistol. panic surged through your body. this wasn’t the end was it? you couldn’t die here. it was too dim, too awful...

“oh, wait. that’s not right. that’s for later... maybe.”

he reached over & set it on the nearby desk, where the chair came from. he dug around in his other pockets before finally pulling out a device. it was the size of a phone, but wires & cards were sticking out of each end.

“this... this will give our location to the soldier.” he waved it in front of his face.

he was pale, & his eyes were bloodshot. other than that, he looked kept-together. almost handsome.

“you want him here?” w

hat kind of kidnapping was this? the napper wants people to know where he is?

“yes, like i said before: he is the sole reason for all of this.” the pad of his finger pressed a button on the device. “now, as we wait. let me tell you about my operation.”

༅~

ding! ding!

“james buchanan barnes,” f.r.i.d.a.y. chimed in over the team’s voices. “i just got a location alert. it is y/n’s location, sir.”

the team, who had been brainstorming for the past hour, shot up. most of them scrambled for their clothes, wanting to set out immediately. others, just scrambled in general, not having a plan.

bucky had rushed out of the room as fast as possible. your location had been sent to his phone. he sprinted to the garage & hopped on his bike, ignoring steve’s shouts. as fast as humanly possible, he sped down the road, following directions to you.

he wanted to cry & yell. he was so stupid to think he could keep the both of you safe. this relationship was wonderful, but it was dangerous. why’d he have to fall in love with a spy?

༅~

maybe it was because he was going 30 over the speed limit, but bucky couldn’t believe how fast he got to you — or rather where you were.

he arrived at a shack behind a boarded up shop. the door was locked, but he had no problem kicking it down. when he busted through, he noticed how small it was. a desk & two chairs filled the space. & in those chairs were you & a man.

“why, it’s the winter soldier.” the man stood with open arms. “perfect timing, i should say. i just finished my speech.”

almost immediately, bucky swung at the man. but he missed. the man sped past him & made his way toward you. on his way over, he snatched the pistol, which had been resting on the crumbling desk.

he held it to your temple, waiting for bucky to turn around.

when he finally did, he stopped. he even stopped breathing. he was too scared to move. he didn’t dare blink.

suddenly, two other figures entered the room. they were quite tall & the seams of their suits almost busted as they flexed. each of their arms rested on each of bucky’s shoulders, keeping him in place.

“now, i told dear y/n not to make a sound during this whole thing.”

bucky looked down at you. you had been silently weeping the whole time. tears stained your cheeks. your face was blotchy, & bucky felt a pang in his chest. the man had told you before that if you made any type of sound, he’d shoot bucky & then you.

“y/n...” bucky called out softly.

“enough!” the man’s voice carried out. it was piercing, almost. “you don’t need to manipulate her anymore.”

“manip- what the hell are you talking about?!”

“well, of course we all know the tale of the winter soldier. the notorious super soldier who kills for fun.” he waited for a response but got nothing. his smirk faltered. “the man who found a way to nestle himself in the minds of the avengers & force his way into the team. you’ve corrupted them, winter soldier. & it’s disgusting.”

“what are you talking about?” bucky’s voice was low & stern. he was beyond angry; steam was practically billowing out of his ears.

“i’ve brought you here to stop it.”

he waved the gun about, but the barrel always pointed toward you.

you started to shake. the years of training now left you. fear took over. you couldn’t breathe properly, let alone fight. it was terrifying.

usually, you were fighting for people you didn’t know. somehow that was easier than this. now, you were at the mercy of someone who hated you for who you loved & trusted, someone who wanted the love of you life dead.

“how are you going to end it?” bucky lunged forward, but the pair behind him held him back.

“well, you can surrender to me. which, of course means leaving your life behind & letting me destroy you.” he paused, allowing each word to sink in. “or... i kill your lover, & then you surrender.”

bucky knew his friends were on his trail. he could stall, but would it work? if this psycho heard them from here, would he just shoot you then & there?

“& i know your posse is right behind you, soldat. i’m not stupid.”

the men’s hands hardened, putting more pressure on bucky’s shoulders.

“you have one minute to make a decision.”

59 seconds...

he didn’t want to hurt you. that’s the last thing he wanted.

50...

but would surrendering be the right move?

45 seconds...

you had always told him it would crush you if he died.

40 seconds...

& it would absolutely destroy him if you were to leave.

30...

if he waits too long, you’ll both die anyways.

25...

surrendering would hurt you, but it’s better than you dying.

but would you rather die than be without him?

15 seconds...

tears pooled in his eyes. he stared at you, longing for one more kiss, one more hug, one more word from you.

8...

so what should he do? would this man be as merciful as to let you say goodbye?

5...

bucky always said he wanted to leave this earth. but he didn’t mean now. not now when he had you, & steve, & the team.

3 seconds...

he’s made so much progress. was all this for nothing? his legacy was to die at the hands of a psychopath who knew nothing about the man he is today?

1...

bang!

a bullet was shot. the noise echoed through the tiny space. everyone flinched. bucky could not tell if it came from the man or behind him. he couldn’t tell if you were alive or dead...

#bucky x reader #marvel #marvel masterlist #bucky headcanons #bucky headcanon #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky angst #bucky fluff #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #marvel x reader

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fatefulfaerie · 4 years

Text

Lost and Found

Offshoot from this. Might still do a direct sequel to that one but I’m not sure.

Last post before Linktober. Probably. I know I keep saying that and then my brain is like but what if this idea...

Also sorry for the lack of content before October 1st.

“Sarqso, young vai,” Furosa said, her arms dangling on the counter. “My usual ice deliverer is on vacation so this shipment of ice is a goddess-send.”

Link was standing casually, with his hand on the counter.

“Don’t worry about it,” Link said. “You don’t even have to pay me the regular rate.”

“Good,” Furosa said as she stood up straight. “Because we don’t even have the budget for that. But if I may say so, you do look a touch older than when I first met you. If you are so inclined, I can give you and your friend each a Noble Pursuit, our signature cocktail, on the house. How old are you two?”

“We’re both eighteen,” Link said as Zelda came up beside him.

“Give or take a hundred years,” he muttered under his breath in his normal non-heightened voice, which made Zelda smile.

“Great!” Furosa said. “Right on the rupee! I’ll get those for you right away!”

“Link, are you sure about this?” Zelda asked as they sat on the barstools facing each other, Furosa leaving to prepare the drinks.

“We are of age.”

“But I’ve never had alcohol before. Have you?”

“Not that I remember,” said Link.

Zelda tipped her head with a slight smirk.

“They’re free,” Link argued. “We may as well try them. One sip.”

“Fine,” Zelda said. “But for the record Gerudo consider themselves adults at eighteen. For Hylians it’s twenty one. You’re being a bad influence on me with your impulsive courage.”

“You don’t have to drink it.”

“No, no,” Zelda said. “Don’t want you going around saying I’m a coward.”

“Here we are,” Furosa said, Link and Zelda’s gazes shifting. “Two Noble Pursuits for two lovely Hylian vais.”

It was in an elegant, long glass, the liquid hued orange like a sunset with a hydromelon wedge on the edge of the rim and two ice cubes floating in each.

“Thank you,” Zelda said to the old Gerudo bartender.

“Fair warning,” Furosa said. “It doesn’t have much effect on Gerudo but for small Hylians like you, you could be hammered in no time.”

Furosa departed, leaving them to their drinks. Link and Zelda took a gentle hold of the short stems of the glass with their fingers supporting the long bowl of the glass.

“Do we toast to something?” Link asked, assuming his normal voice now that all Gerudo were out of earshot.

“My father always did that,” Zelda replied. “The toast, I mean. Some long monologue about Hyrule’s prosperity.” Zelda shook her head. “I can’t guarantee that in its ruined state, and I’m not even sure if I want to rebuild the kingdom. Everything we’ve been through...with Calamity Ganon and with Ganondorf’s corpse...I think I want nothing more than to indulge myself into just taking a break.”

Link’s eyes had melted and saddened with concern, blue eyes attentive and watching hers.

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Link said.

Zelda nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. “But…”

She looked down at her drink, pondering at the thought and not thinking about the drink at all. The ice was surely gradually melting as they talked.

“I think I want a longer break than I let on,” Zelda said. “I think I want to wait even longer before I return to the castle as Queen.”

“How long?” Link asked.

Zelda paused. She didn’t know why she feared Link would object. He had always supported her.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe a month, maybe a year and part of me.” She exhaled a sigh. “Part of me wants to forget it all together and stay in your Hateno house, living a simple life until we both die of old age.”

“That sounds nice,” Zelda heard Link say, looking up at him to see the smile she thought she heard. “But it’s ultimately your choice.”

Zelda took a deep breath in and out, closing her eyes before resettling them on Link.

“To something new,” she said, the words making Link smile more.

“To something new,” Link repeated.

Their glasses clinked, Link bringing the rim to his lips as Zelda decided to smell the beverage.

She immediately balked, coughing and feeling nausea rise up within her chest. Link, alarmed by the sound, didn’t meet the rim of his glass to his lips, stopping and setting the glass on the counter as Zelda teared up, noises from her throat similar to a cat’s hiss.

“Are you okay?” Link asked.

“It smells disgusting!” Zelda exclaimed. “I feel like I’m going to throw up!”

Link’s brow contorted. It didn’t seem that bad. He picked the glass back up and brought it to his nose.

It was sweet, with the slight bitter scent of alcohol.

“Smells fine to me,” Link said.

“I don’t think I’m drinking mine,” Zelda said, placing her elbow on the counter and her head in her hand, attempting to get over her nausea.”

She watched as Link took a sip, waiting for his reaction as his lips opened and closed. He looked as if he was trying to ascertain his own opinion until his eyes suddenly widened and the glass slipped from his hand, crashing to the ground with splattering broken glass. Zelda’s eyes had widened as her head came off her hand.

“Link?” she asked before Link’s eyes closed and he started to faint off the chair.

“Link!” she said, attempting to catch him, but only making it soon enough to be at his side after he crumbled to the ground with a thud.

“How much did he drink?” she heard Furosa ask. Apparently the commotion had attracted the worry of the bartender, who had come around to try and help.

“Just a sip,” Zelda said before shaking her head. She didn’t even look at Furosa, so concerned for Link she couldn’t afford the polite glance away, “but it wasn’t the alcohol. He faints like this sometimes.”

“He?”

Zelda panicked.

“Sh-she,” Zelda corrected. “Sorry, I misspoke. My worry must have jumbled my words.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Furosa asked.

Zelda finally looked over.

“No...no thank you...I know what to do. Thank you...I-I mean sarqso.”

Zelda returned her concerned gaze to Link as Furosa left, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

“It’s been so long since you’ve gotten a memory,” she said quietly. Her hand changed so that the backs of her fingers grazed his cheek instead. She looked over at the sound of footsteps and saw some pedestrians.

As one of the pair said something indistinguishable to the other, Zelda thought upon how this must look, that Link resembled a very drunk vai. He picked the perfect time to remember something about a hundred years prior.

When Zelda looked to Link again, waiting for him to open his eyes, she wondered at what memory it would be, whether it was associated with Gerudo town or with her or even with the Noble Pursuit.

It was a couple minutes before his eyelids flitted open.

“Link!” She exclaimed, putting her hand back on his cheek.

“I’m okay,” he said with a smile and a hand on hers at his cheek. He sat up slowly. “I’m okay.”

“Are you feeling okay?” She asked quickly, her mouth running a mile a minute. “Did you get a memory? What was it? Did it have to do with your family? Or was it later? Did you--”

“Zelda,” he interrupted with a slight laugh. “I’ll tell you all about it, don’t worry. But first, let’s get out of the street. The Hotel Oasis isn’t far. I’ll pay for the broken glass later.”

“Okay,” Zelda said as they both stood up, each other’s hands clasping into each other. They walked along the street with swinging arms.

“One bed or two?” Link asked.

“Two, I think,” Zelda reasoned. “Being close to you is just so abhorrent.”

“All right, one it is,” Link said, catching Zelda’s sarcasm.

It wasn’t long before they faced each other on their bed, legs crossed and knees almost touching. The innkeeper had raised a brow when they asked for one bed and although the inference she made about their relationship was correct, Link and Zelda both reddened when she asked them not to engage in any “funny business”.

Link and Zelda were an incoherent mess explaining that they had never done that and that although they were technically dating, they preferred to wait until after marriage. It was obvious the explanation wasn’t needed, even as Link and Zelda explained that they just liked to cuddle in each other’s arms.

They stopped their rambling when the innkeeper was clearly unamused and sat on their bed. It occurred to them that the innkeeper more than likely thought of them as a gay couple, Link looking like a vai, but with their masks on and homosexuality just as acceptable as heterosexuality anyway, they didn’t really care.

“The memory,” Zelda prompted excitedly where they sat. “What was it?”

Link smiled, in fact, his lips curled inwards, as if he were trying to stifle a laugh.

“What?” Zelda said with an unrestrained laugh.

“You’re not going to believe me,” Link said.

“Of course I will,” she said. “Now out with it.”

He looked so excited to tell her, to see her reaction, his smile was brimming with impatience.

“It involved you,” Link said. “A bit after we went to Eldin. You were about sixteen. Your father had a banquet and...you got drunk.”

“No, I didn’t,” Zelda insisted.

Link raised his brow.

“Really, Link,” she insisted. “I didn’t. I know I said I would believe you but I’ve never been drunk.”

“Oh yeah?” He challenged. “What do you remember about that night?”

Zelda shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Most things from those times are foggy. You know how it goes.”

“Try,” Link said, Zelda exhaled a sigh and looked up at the ceiling for answers.

“I was at the banquet and then you escorted me back to my chambers when it was done...at least I think you did.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“But I wasn’t drunk,” she said. “I told you I’ve never had alcohol. I know for sure you escorted me back to my chambers because the next morning I woke up in my bed with the absolute nastiest headache. And I was nauseous...”

Those last four words were slowed down as she figured it out. That’s why she had such a reaction to the Noble Pursuit. Her mouth popped open.

“I was drunk!” She exclaimed. “How did I get drunk?! Oh goddesses, did my father know?!”

Link shook his head.

“Urbosa told him you were sick,” Link said. “I escorted you back to your chambers after you mistook the Noble Pursuit for something non-alcoholic.”

Zelda brought a hand to her mouth almost smiling as she anticipated both the hilarity and embarrassment of what was to follow.

“What did I do?”

Link’s lips pursed inward.

“In my eyes, you suddenly went from a princess to be kept at a distance to a girl clinging to my shirt. You barely even recognized who I was and then you went on and on about how perfect I was.”

Zelda shook her head.

“Goddesses, I don’t remember this at all.”

“I took you back to your chambers and told you it was time for bed,” Link continued. “And then you...kissed me.”

Zelda’s eyes widened and she felt her face pale.

“On the lips,” he clarified, “before proceeding to throw up immediately after. I cleaned you up as we talked about the kingdom’s expectations and after asking me if you were drunk, I led you to your bed. I went to leave immediately after when you thanked me for the first time ever. I smiled and departed.”

Zelda’s smile had faded and her eyes were fixed on him.

“The next morning I would learn that you didn’t remember any of it and at the time I convinced myself the kiss didn’t matter to you because you were drunk.”

“So…” she made out, lowering her hand as she figured it out. “So that whole time...we had already kissed? And...and you said nothing?”

She searched nothing with her eyes.

“Because you were keeping it hidden, weren’t you?” she asked rhetorically. “To shield me from embarrassment, to shield yourself from my anger and...to shield us from a scandal that would take on a life of its own.”

Link nodded.

“I assumed so, too.”

Zelda shook her head.

“I just can’t believe you knew that whole time why I resented you, your perfection, my imperfection, I guess it makes sense why you so easily forgave me, how we so easily became friends.”

Zelda let out a chuckle.

“I didn’t think I had lost a memory, too,” she said. “This is just bizarre.”

“Welcome to my life,” Link jived.

Zelda giggled as she tipped her head, her eyes adoring him.

“I wish I could kiss you now.”

Link put on a mischievous smile, looking to his right, to his left, and back to lean closer into her.

“The innkeeper is gone,” he said. “No one will see if we take off the masks connected to our veils.”

Zelda peered around Link at the empty street outside before looking around the inn.

“I suppose.”

She took off her blue mask, but that wasn’t the dangerous part, Zelda concerned as Link took off his. She considered them lucky he was facing away from the street.

“See?” He asked rhetorically when no one seized him for being male. “No problem.”

He leaned forward and captured her lips with his, the hero and the princess kissing deeply and losing their focus on anything else. The “Sound the alarm!” was not regarded by either of them as they made out with each other, their hearts burning only to continue.

“A voe has been detected!” It was just white noise to them. “Capture him at once!”

Link suddenly felt himself pulled from her lips, from her all together by strong hands on his arms.

“Link!” Zelda exclaimed, coming to her hands and knees on the bed before hastening off it, two Gerudo dragging Link away.

She followed them through the town, racing to catch up with how swiftly they dragged him, only to toss him into the sands outside the entrance.

“You didn’t have to throw him!” Zelda exclaimed to one of the guards.

“I apologize, Your Highness,” the Gerudo guard said. “But you know the law. You know what we had reason to believe.”

Zelda furrowed her brow at the insinuation. Link would never do that, but Zelda knew she couldn’t overturn Gerudo law. Link had already sat up when Zelda approached him, Zelda kneeling in front of him and looking back at the guard.

“No voe are allowed within the town!” the guard exclaimed with her spear pointed at Link. “It’s a rule of the Gerudo! Do not come back here! Not ever!”

Zelda exhaled a sigh with closed eyes before turning her head and opening them to look at Link.

“I’m sorry, Link,” Zelda apologized. “I shouldn’t have suggested we kiss.”

Link shook his head.

“It’s fine,” he responded. “I probably would have kissed you anyway.” He released a chuckle. “I’ve actually never been caught before, at least not like this.

“Wait,” he said with a different train of thought. “You are still technically the princess, aren’t you? Can’t you do something about the rule?”

Zelda shook her head.

“I don’t want to disrespect their culture, it’s unfair.”

“Why do they even have that rule? Do you know?”

Zelda nodded in affirmation.

“It’s myth by now, one of those cautionary tales that speak of danger and are meant to elicit fear, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t justified.”

“What do you mean?” Link asked, his arms were now casually draped over his bent knees and Zelda had already repositioned herself to sit on her heels.

“It is said they used to allow men when the town was first built,” Zelda explained, “but a Gerudo woman was raped and conceived a child. The woman was regarded as ruined, and although she loved her child, she never found romantic love. Gerudo do not allow men because of that story, but also because they want to control the way in which they find a mate. They want to be ready for it, to have reached adulthood and have prepared for a pilgrimage to Hyrule. On this journey, they get to know themselves, and eventually, they find a mate who matches them. It is courting on their own terms, where the men don’t hold all the power. That is why they hold classes on courting, to prepare those who have chosen to undergo the pilgrimage for the challenge ahead.”

“Wow,” Link said. “I had no idea. So just now they thought…”

Zelda nodded at the inference.

“Zelda,” he said as he too sat on his heels, taking her hand. “I would never do that to you, I promise. I could never hurt you like that, betray your trust in such a manner.”

“Link,” Zelda said with her infectious laugh. “I know you wouldn’t. But they don’t.”

The sky had already started to darken with the sunset, but the approaching night started to bring a chill, especially cold considering their light Gerudo fabrics.

“It’ll be cold soon,” Link said, looking out at the desert.

“Maybe we can stay at the Bazaar,” Zelda said. “Head back to Hateno in the morning.”

Link sighed, looking in the direction of Gerudo town, the one he was just ousted out of.

“It’s just…”

“What?” Zelda asked, searching him.

“Nothing,” he said. “It’s nothing.”

Link stood up to avoid suspicion and it wasn’t long before they started their walk to Kara Kara Bazaar.

But Link knew that they were walking away from the jewelry shop, where a special order was waiting for Link, a ring with a diamond in the center. He had planned to pick it up late in the night when Zelda was sleeping in the Hotel Oasis.

But if he could no longer enter the town, he would have to find a Gerudo who could pick it up for him.

And then, on an orange sunset like this one, at the top of Tuft mountain next to the lake shaped like a heart, Link would propose to his Princess.

“The men holding the power,” he said, the thought suddenly spurring him with worry. “Although the power should be equally shared, sometimes that is unfortunately not the case. Do you...do you ever think I hold that power?”

“Link, of course not,” Zelda insisted. “You’re the best boyfriend a girl could have. You let me speak my mind probably more than I should.”

“But...but what if I did something that steps on your power...made a decision that puts you in a place to...to choose one thing or another.” Link sighed. “Maybe I’m overthinking it.”

“The Gerudo are a race made up entirely of women. There is a great power in that and they wish to harness it. But that isn’t the case with our relationship, Link. As long as we approach everything knowing we both have input, everything will be fine.”

Link nodded, supposing there was a difference between asking her to marry him and forcing her to marry him against her will. Perhaps he was overthinking it.

“Right.”

He felt Zelda take his hand and his worries were soothed. Link smiled with a warm heart knowing the love of his life was beside him, safe from harm, and may even choose to be by his side forever.

#zelink #breath of the wild #botw #botw 2 #breath of the wild 2 #breath of the wild sequel #gerudo town #hyrule #zelda #link

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gallavictorious · 4 years

Text

Fic: Foreign Country

For fuck’s sake... So I got an ask in response to this comment, wherein the lovely nonnie suggested that Ian and Mickey’s reaction to the Kash and Grab would be a reverse sort of situation, with that place holding very happy memories in spite of being a site of trauma (because Kash shot Mickey there). I’m paraphrasing here, obviously... And I spent over a week trying to write the fic that this ask (unintentionally) inspired and now when I posted it Tumblr was messing with the ‘Read more’ so I, stupid and/or tired bastard that I am, deleted the thing to repost it but of course that means the ask is gone aaaaand yeah. I AM SO SORRY NONNIE! :( Hope this one finds you all the same.

Anyway, here’s my resonse:

Ah, yes. Yes! Nonnie, I applaud your dedication to sparking joy and thank you for sharing this delightful reflection! <3 And, uh, it got me thinking about the Kash and Grab and its role as the site of so much that went down with Ian and Mickey in the early years, and yeah, now there’s a ficlet. It involves a trip down memory lane, some angst, some fluff, and a rather startling number of I love you:s. It’s also the reason why it took me so damned long to get back to you… Sorry about that!

Did you ask me to write this? No. Does it stay completely true to your observation rather than carelessly running with it? Also no, but with slightly more regret.

---

Never returning had not been a conscious choice. Neither was going back.

---

Chicago, on a Thursday afternoon in early October, and the air is unusually crisp when Ian steps out from the ambulance station. He's been working the early shift and now he pauses on the sidewalk and turns his face towards the sun, considering. No one's expecting him for another few hours, and it's a fine day: maybe he needn't rush home. Maybe he could walk for a bit.

It's an idea. He's feeling restless, though not the sort of restless that heralds the on-set of a manic episode (or so he thinks, but he makes a mental note to keep an eye out for other signs, and maybe mention it to Mickey). But yeah. He could walk for a bit, then maybe find a station for the L when he tires.

So he walks. Walks and walks and doesn’t tire, and eventually he finds himself on a familiar street and outside a familiar store and he realizes with a start that he hasn't been here in years. Hadn't even known the store was still open, but the sign on the door proudly proclaims it so, and above it the name remains the same, white letters on red: Kash and Grab.

Huh. Without making a conscious decision to, he's stopped walking and is just standing there, staring at the store. The sight of it brings a strange jumble of emotions, and the quietly jarring mingle of familiarty and distance that comes from returning to a place where once you did belong, but belong no longer.

The last time he stood here was the day before he ran off to join the Army, leaving Linda with nothing more than a short message on her phone. That’s more than what his family got, so he hopes she wasn’t too upset. He never asked; never came back; never really thought back – until now.

He hesitates for a moment, then walks up to the door and steps inside. He’s running low on smokes anyway.

It's the smell that hits him first. It hasn't changed, and brings him back to the days when it would cling to his clothes and follow him home, a not unpleasant but distinctive whiff of frozen food and sweet spices.

The interior hasn't changed much either. There’s a kid behind the counter that looks to be in his early teens, and Ian wonders if it’s one of Kash’s sons, if Linda's still running the store. He could ask, but who knows what Linda's told her kids about the teenager who fucked their closeted father before he ran off?

He glances at the boy again – and yeah, he could be Kash's, there's something about the eyes and the chin – and wonders if he ever looked that young when he manned the register. Wonders if that's what he looked like to Mickey, when he'd come into the store to just take whatever the hell he wanted, wether it was chips or, later, Ian's fucking breath away.

Ian Gallagher. You messed with the wrong girl.

And just like that, it's like no time's passed, and he's 15 and 16 and 17 again; he's doing it with Kash and he thinks he loves him; he excels at ROTC and dreams of Westpoint; his mother is alive and he doesn’t yet know that Frank isn’t his father at all – it hardly matters anyhow, because Fiona is there, as she has always been there, as he still thinks she will always be.

She got out and good for her. If she'd stayed here, she'd never been free of her role as sister-mother – never free to be Fiona. And as for him... he'd mourned the army dream when it died, but knows now that it was an uninformed dream, one he would not have cared to live even if given the opportunity.

Glancing at the counter where he used to open his trigonomy textbook he feels no regret, though perhaps a twinge of sadness for the loss of that optimistic, determined kid, who had not had an easy life by any means, but who had yet to take any real blows, any blows that truly mattered. Those had come later (had come in this very store, some of them) and standing here, where he'd spent so much time as a child and none as a man, he feels something of that kid returning. Remembers the weight of the hundreth can put on a shelf; feels the ghost of a (too) easy smile on his lips; sees himself as he moves between the backroom and counter and fridge.

And everywhere he looks, there is Mickey. Mickey, in a dirty coat or a security west, angry and rough and funny and sometimes with the briefest flash of something softer, sweeter. He is stealing and scaring of thieving kids and restocking the shelves and plotting to murder Frank and moaning as Ian pushes into him.

He is on the floor, too, cursing Kash but otherwise strangely unaffected by having been shot. Ian thinks he might have been more scared and upset than Mickey. It strikes him now as a moment of innocence lost; your lover shot by a jealous ex, a real gun and real blood and what if Kash had had better aim? This was a thing that happened in the world, and if that could happen – anything could.

It strikes him, too, as a turning point: Mickey going away could easily have spelled the end of their intense but brief affair. For all they knew each other's bodies they hadn't really know each other back then, and while Ian had been crushing hard he had not yet loved Mickey. Perhaps they might both have moved on, found other lives and loves. Perhaps that had still been possible, then.

Or perhaps not. It was the first time they were separated and the first time they found their way back to one another, but not the last. It's a dance of coming together and coming apart and coming together, again and again, and they've traced its steps for close to a decade, never once stopping, not truly.

Because even in the absences, Mickey had been, is; there, always, in the stretches of time when he was locked up in juvie; in the eager hours of wating for him to show up at the store; in the exact distance between them at any given time.

Ian can still feel the jolt, like a punch to his gut, like electricity, of looking up from stacking oranges and finding blue eyes staring straight into his.

He remembers the last time they were in here together, when him and his siblings had been taken away by the CPS and Mickey invited him to crash at his place. He remembers his giddy delight at the question, his excitement at the realization that Mickey wanted to spend time with him. He had been so nervous, and looking back, knowing what he now knows, he thinks that Mickey might have been fucking terrified, but there'd been such ease to that evening and night; such familiarty and tenderness. And oh, the sex had been fantastic.

He tries to remember only this, not what came after with the morning light and a door suddenly slammed open –

Mickey had never returned to the store after that, and a few months later Ian had left for the army. Not really for the army, though; what he'd been moving towards had not been nearly as important as what he was moving away from.

Stings, still, that memory; but less than it once did, and as he strolls down the aisles, noting where the pickled cucumber jars have been replaced with tins of tuna and where the small bottles of cheap olive oil still remain, he is surprised to find himself... okay. For a long time, so much of his past had been a painful, tangled thing he did his best to forget, and even after he made his peace with it, he made a point of looking forward rather than back. Now he thinks that maybe, if you're happy with where you ended up, the hardships of the road which led you there are easier to bear.

Doesn't make everything that happened right; just... yeah. Easier to bear.

He buys a pack of cigarettes. The kid behind the counter is eyeing him suspiciously, but Ian thinks that has more to do with him walking around the store and staring at random things rather than with the boy recognizing him from some lurid tale of Linda's. Ian almost asks him to say hello to her from him, but nah. Let old dogs lie.

Outside, twilight is coming on, and there's a slight chill to the air now that the sun is sinking. Ian lights a cigarette and sucks the smoke deep into his lungs. This, too, is familiar, and for a moment he feels unthethered, unsure of when he is, who he is.

Without really thinking about it, he picks up his phone. Mickey's still working but can't be too busy because he answers on the second signal: “Hey.”

“Hey,” Ian says, and then he doesn't say anything else for long enough that Mickey asks him if he fucking wanted something or he's just being a creepy ass phone stalker.

It makes Ian smile. Grounds him. “I love you,” he says.

A beat. “You called me at fucking work to tell me that?” And Ian knows that the gruff disbelief is partially an attempt to cover Mickey's surprised delight at the proclamation.

“Yeah, I guess I did,” he says. Waits for a moment, but Mickey is silent. “You gonna say it back?”

“You fucking serious?”

“Kinda need to hear it.” Because he gets to say that; gets to ask for that. They're not kids not anymore and they don't need to hide. They’re fucking married.

That is real. That is now.

“Jesus Christ, Ian.” But then Mickey, as Ian knew he would, relents. “I love you,” he says, and Ian doesn't know if he's already alone or if he just doesn't care who overhears him, because he doesn't lower his voice or take the time to move somewhere more private.

A brief silence as neither of them speak, but simply rest in the warmth of the words, the truth of them.

Then: “Are you okay?” There's a trace of real worry in Mickey's voice now, and there's a part of Ian's that immediately annoyed because he hates that people worry about him so easily – but a larger part of him has made his peace with it; knows and accepts the reason for it; loves that Mickey loves him enough to worry.

So he offers a brief smile, even though Mickey cannot see it. Hopes it translates into his voice. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, I promise, it's just... I'll tell you when you get home, okay?”

“Okay.” And maybe Mickey isn't convinced but he takes Ian's word for it. Trust. That's another thing they've been doing better with. “I'll see you in maybe an hour then? I get off at five.”

”Yeah, I'll see you then.” And, because he can, because it's true: ”I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you fucking said that already.” A brief pause, then quietly: “I love you, too.”

They hang up. Throwing one last look at Kash and Grab before he walks off, Ian is pleased to realize that he feels nothing but a vague sense of affection for the place. Some things withered and was left here, sure, youthful dreams and ambitions and most of his naivite – but the best thing about it he kept, and Ian will see him soon and hold him soon, and this time he will neither leave nor let him go. Their new dance will move to a different beat.

#asks #gallavich #i am so mad at myself and tumblr right now #also the use of semicolons in this one is absurd #sorry not sorry #fic #my stuff

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criminally--reid · 5 years

Text

Go Home, Spencer

Warnings: er smut? Fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, yaknow; also not rlly edited n kinda rushed but like whatever :/

Pairing: spencer reid x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.2k (1,268)

(authors note at the end if ur down I guess. kinda important i guess i dunno)

_________________________________________

“Mmmh, j-jesus fuck! Nnng so- fuck! So fucking good. Holy shit-”

Buzz Buzz Buzz

An incoming phone call interrupts you. You pause your video and answer the call from Morgan telling you to check on Reid. He hadn’t been quite the same since he went through everything with the last couple cases. You slip on a t-shirt and shorts and hop in your car to head to the office.

“Everything okay, Spence?” He’s in the meeting room, whiteboards covered in chicken scratch, cork boards covered in pictures upon pictures of crime scene photos.

“No.. No it’s not okay. I- I- I don’t understand how I didn’t see it-”

“Wha- what are you talking about?”

He runs his hands up his face and into his hair as he storms off to the break room; me hot on his trail.

“I can’t believe I had the initial profile wrong. I was so certain I knew, but he killed again. I thought I had it right; thought I knew.”

“Spence, we caught the guy. It’s over-"

"We could have caught him sooner."

"Spence, it's done. It’s friday. You can go home. For once, stop profiling and enjoy yourself.”

“I can’t just stop profiling. It’s what I do all day, everyday. I’d have to turn my brain off to quit. Like right now, you’re eager to get home. Not to someone, but something. You’re a bit fidgety. radiating an insane amount of body heat. I’m guessing you were watching porn before Morgan called-”

“I didn’t ask you to start profiling me, Spencer, and how’d you know Morgan called?”

“Merely observation…and Derek’s always the one that calls.” he continues, stepping closer.

“Spence-”

“You told me to enjoy myself... I’m about to.” He steps even closer so his front is flush with mine. I have trouble meeting his stern gaze until he places two fingers under yourchin, forcing eye contact. “Tell me, Y/N, was I right?” I nod yourhead and look away. “Not talking now are we? Words.”

“Yeah, Spence, you're right.”

A grim smile creeps across his face accompanied by an almost sarcastic laugh; a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. “Spence? Seriously. I put so much effort and time; blood, sweat, and tears into earning a doctorate for everyone to call me Spence? Or spencer? Reid? No one respects my title, huh. I go above and beyond so I get the doctor respect, but still nothing.”

“I- no- of course we do. This team would be nothing without you. We- we know how hard you work, Spen-"

“Turn around.” you do as he says, turning around and gripping the edge of the large wooden table that sits in the middle of the room. He runs his hands up you back and around your neck, pulling your ear closer to his mouth. “What was it about?”

“Wha-”

“The video. What was it about?”

“Uh- i-it was, uhm, a- a boss and his uh employee..”

Spencer lets out a sinister yet somehow innocent laugh. “That excites you? You dirty girl. Is that something you think about a lot? Fucking whoever’s in charge of you at work?” You hesitate before slowly nodding your head. “I hope a co-worker can fulfill your fantasies.” He snakes his opposite hand down to plant a firm slap on your ass, eliciting a moan from your chapstick-coated lips.

He unwraveles his arm from around you and drops down to his knees behind you; taking your shorts down with him, revealing that you have no underwear on.

“No panties…” he whispers almost to himself. Excitement swells inside you as well as on the surface of your skin as he peppers open-mouthed kisses all over the back of your thighs, getting everso closer to your heat. He pries your legs open, and you let out slow, deep, shaky breaths in response. They soon become shallow - almost nonexistent - as he slip stwo fingers inside you. “So wet,” he snickers. He quickens his pace with each thrust, and you're a mess in no time.

“S-spencer,” you choke out.

Another harsh slap on your ass. “Who?”

“Dr. Reid.. please..”

“Please what?” He quickens his fingers, rendering you almost speechless.

“Fu-fuck me, Dr. Reid, please.’’

Immediately, he stops in his tracks and removes his fingers; an empty feeling washing over you. He stands up, his front flush with yourback and you can feel his bulge pressing up against your thigh, through his pants. “Open,” he says, and you part your lips allowing his fingers to dance inside, coating your tongue with your own juices.

“Good girl.”

You hear the sound of him undoing his belt followed by his suit pants hitting the floor. You spread your legs slightly, more than ready for him. The tip of his length makes contact with your slick folds and your insides tighten up automatically. “S- Doctor, please.”

“As you wish.”

He slips inside easily, and you feel full once again. He goes agonizingly slow; torturing you. Slow, long strokes, filling you to your hilt; then all the way out and back in again.

“Doctor Reid, faster, plea- ohmygod!”

“Shti! So fucking tight.”

The sound of his thighs hitting the back of your slick ones fills and echoes through the room. A harsh slap on your ass followed by a squeal adds to the audible pleasure. He removes his hands from your hips to tangle one into your hair and the other one snaking around your front to rub hellish circles on your clit. You collapse onto the table - putty in his hands; an absolute moaning mess. The knot that began before you got there returning full-force, threatening to unwind. You clench around his length, trying to hold back your orgasm and relish in the immense pleasure. But all too soon, the floodgates are threatening to open; aching for release.

“Mmh- you gonna cum for me?” Spencer breathes out from behind you, his pace ruthless and steady.

“Mmfuck, Spence- yes.”

His grip tightens in your hair, and he pulls your head back - ear level with his mouth as he lowly taunts, “How do we ask nicely?”

“Doctor Reid,, plea- fuck! Please.. Can I cum, please?- S-so fucking good. Spencer... please?”

“Cum,” he whispers in yourear; sending shivers down your spine. Almost instinctively, you clench around him and your juices explode. An uncontrollable, high-pitched cry leaving your mouth as anticipation finally reached its apex.

A few more strokes and Spencer pulls out and finishes on yourlower back, leaving you with an aching empty feeling once again. His hands falling on either side of you holding him up. Both of us panting like race dogs. He stands up - putting some space between you and him - allowing you to turn around and admire the sight in front of you: A wild Spencer, glistening with post-sex sweat, dressed in nothing but a haphazardly buttoned beige button-up, running his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair.

You both hurry to throw your clothes back on.

“So…” Spencer starts.

“That was.. -”

“Yeah, it was.” Spencer attempts to sputter out a sentence, and you both laugh at his failure.

“Listen, I- uh.. Okay,” you laugh. “Go home, pretty boy. Enjoy the rest of your weekend, and don’t even think about this place until Monday.”

He stands in front of you once again, your back up against the table, his hands lightly resting on your sides. “I think I’ve had enough fun in the last hour to last you the rest of the weekend. Given that, I’m obligated to come back tomorrow.”

“Jesus Christ, Reid.” you chuckle, and he joins in.

“Fine. Monday.” He places a kiss to your forehead, grabs his cross-body bag, and heads to the door. A quick wink, and he’s out of yoursight all too soon.

“Monday,” you whisper lowly to yourself, and smile like a total loon all the way back to your car.

○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°

a.n.: ok so like this isn't rlly edited but whatever I already said that akajak

the thing is, I have a few more of these already written (that I should actually prob look over n edit). But I cant decide if I should try harder to make them a series or not. The story lines VAGUELY run together, but like I references different seasons of spencer?? like does that matter ?? or? Maybe it could just be like an analogous series bcos the plots kinda make sense individually.. eye dunno bbies,, gimme ur opinion if ur reading this :)

Also,, lemme know ur opinion on the spacing. I feel like this.is too far apart, but i feel like if i dont double space or whatever, the words will get jumbled up and it'll be harder to read? It is for me at least.. lemme know what yall prefer

Ok so I made the spacing smaller. I feel like it's hard to read but maybe I'm just an idiot:/ lemme know uwu

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #cm #criminal minds #smut #fanfiction #x reader #self insert #mgg #matthew gray gubler #derek morgan #penelope garcia #jj jereau #jennifer jereau #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #david rossi #jason gideon

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smearsyd · 4 years

Text

Safe in Your Arms | PCY | Part Two

Lee Seoyun had scars.

Perhaps she had been saved from physical scars, but they were visible enough to her. Thick reminders stood out in her mind that made words like worthless, not good enough, not grateful enough, unloveable, feel like a second skin. She didn’t think she was capable of healing— her parents had told her that she would always be broken, and weren’t your parents the ones who were supposed to know you the best?

So years ago, when Seoyun tragically spilled her hot chocolate all over the front of poor Park Chanyeol’s winter sweater, she was expecting severe backlash— not a forgiving smile and definitely not a new friend. Muchless, Seoyun never in a million years would have imagined that Park Chanyeol would soon be falling in love with someone like her. To be the person who made her, for the first time, feel safe in his arms.

This is Seoyun healed, despite her scars.

characters:

+ park chanyeol (exo), you as lee seoyun (because names are important)

what to expect:

+ christmas + boyfriend!au + fluff and romance

length:

+ 3 parts, bonus drabbles + 25kish in total

warnings:

+ sensitive topics + mentions of traumatic past + smut on part two

read it here: (updating… stay tuned)

+ part one + part two + part three + bonus + masterlist

author’s note:

+ i hope you enjoy it ❄️

if you want to be tagged, please reply to this post!

@bbhmystar @itsmesa

Christmas Eve

Perhaps Seoyun couldn’t explain to anyone exactly why, but she despised being late regardless. To her, being late was like turning all the burners on the stove on to high and walking away; being late is accepting possible disaster.

She didn’t have the mental security to deal with lateness. Even if she was trying.

“Please hurry.” She was pacing again. He looked like he was trying not to drop the soap.

“Seo,” he lightly chuckled like her predicament was somehow endearing, “we won’t be late.”

She glanced at the clock again and wondered if it would eventually wear out from her abundant attention. “We will if you don’t get ready in the next ten minutes and are walking out the door.” She gave him one of those pointed looks, the real distinct one. “Your parents live thirty minutes away and dinner is at six and—” the clock looked like it was glaring at her, but maybe that was her imagination, “— it’s 5:22!”

Chanyeol turned the water off, grabbing the towel that was extended from her hand. His fingers were sinking into his wet locks when she noticed the slight curl to his lips and the growing shine in his chocolate eyes.

She knew what was coming before it even happened, but that didn’t actually stop anything, or rather, it didn’t stop him.

Chanyeol was pouncing on her and landing small kisses all over her head before she could get out that he was going to crush her hair— that didn’t really matter, but at the same time, it did when you couldn't help but worry that people were going to notice and would they ask and what would she say and would they think that she can’t put herself together and what if Chan—

“—Baby?”

Seoyun hadn’t noticed his grip slowly waning and his once playful eyes dulling down to frosted worry. When did everything get so heavy, she thought? When would things change?

His fingers brushed back lines of distress from her forehead and worked what felt like a failed sigh from her lips.

“Sorry,” she breathed out, not wanting to seem like a burden, “I’m fine.”

It wasn’t always easy to tell what he was thinking, but sometimes, like now she would say, she could simply feel it. She could feel it in his calm eyes and that slight head tilt, and the stronghold he has around her as he pulls her against his chest. She could just feel it.

“Tell me what’s wrong, so we can fix it.” He murmured into her hair, his breath soft in the powerful kind of resignation that made it hard not to trust.

“I—” she started, but stopped.

It was hard to explain what was wrong when she didn’t even really understand it herself. Was it that she was worried about being late? Or was it actually something else? She should be thinking more about it and why it impacts her— wait, was that therapy talking? She’s too jumbled to be sure.

“I think it’s just this time of year… it’s not easy for me.” That sounded like a confession.

He hummed, patterns being drawn over her tensed shoulders.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We can call it a night on the couch, order that good Chinese from down the street. Watch cartoon reruns. I’m easy baby, and whatever makes you happy will make me happy.”

“Easy, huh?” A smirk finds its way onto her face as she involuntarily lands a resonating smack onto what she is now realizing is his bare bottom.

He sucked in his bottom lips with a chuckle, “I set myself up for that one didn’t I?”

“Ugh, huh.”

He didn’t move from around her when he tilted his head, waiting patiently for her real response. “What’s it gonna be, Seoyun?” He was gentle like that.

She couldn’t resist when she tucked her forehead under his chin, just resting there for a second in his embrace.

“Let’s go,” she finalized. “I want to go.”

“Are you sure?”

She was sure, she knew he could tell too. But it was his after thought of wanting to be sure that warmed her up on the inside, that made her fall for him in the first place.

Maybe it was that part of him that she was thankful for the most, the part that just wanted her to be happy.

Simple, really. Yet so hard to find.

“Yeah, Channie, I want to make you happy too.”

…

Seoyun looked down at her heaping plate with an internal sigh. Not only had Mr. Park insisted that she take extra helpings, but Baekhyun had somehow weaseled all of his vegetables onto her plate as well. Almost everyone was done and yet she still had plenty left to go.

Although somewhere deep inside her she knew that there was nothing wrong with that, she couldn't seem to get rid of the feeling that she was committing some terrible crime by possibly making them wait.

She could hear a nagging voice, almost too strongly in her ear, one she had thought she wouldn't hear again. It whispered in words of anxiety and hurt, telling her what she would be able to rationalize as not true if she could just take a breath. The whole morning had been so chaotic and nerve-wracking to Seoyun that she couldn't seem to get a grip when she needed it the most.

Christmas wasn't easy, it was hard to get over the fact that it was a time to spend with family and be thankful for one another. It was even worse when she thought of the fact that not only does she not get to do that now, but that she had been ripped of that right for her whole life.

Seoyun felt herself tensing up, her hands clammy in her lap as she struggled to take a reasoning breath. The claws were setting in again and instead of feeling lost in desperation, she was just left feeling angry. A raw, blood curdling angry. What did she ever do to deserve to feel this way? She never asked to be born into a house where she would never be understood. She didn't want to live a life where she had no control over her emotions and yet, time after time, no matter how strong she gets, a simple plate full of food at a table where everyone else is done is enough to set her over the edge.

It's not fair. It doesn't make any sense. She hates it more than anything else because in the end she knows that the cause of her anguish is only herself.

Those insistent voices telling her that she is a worthless burden are long gone. And even if they were still here, she knows now that it isn't the truth anyway.

But somehow she finds herself like she is now, chest aching, heart racing, tongue twisted, into a hole she isn't sure how she got into in the first place. She doesn't know what's worse anymore, feeling the claws of anxiety or knowing that they are always looming right around the corner.

And then his hand was in her lap and like a sail finally pulled up, the storm wasn’t so capable of knocking her overboard.

She watched through half-lidded eyes as Chanyeol reached over and discreetly exchanged their plates, placing his empty one on her setting and digging into her previous dish. Any other day, and maybe she would have nagged him for being greedy, but as his hand tightened around hers, soothing circles pressing into her palm, she understood.

She felt silly then, maybe even a little ridiculous, but it was hard not to think it when looking around the table. Baekhyun, Chanyeol’s best friend since high school, was talking animatedly about his new teaching job, saying something about how one of his students was basically a piano prodigy, better than me even. And then there was Chanyeol’s parents, their smiles and comments filling the room with a welcomeness that she never got to experience as a child.

The whole atmosphere— it was kind, it was gentle, it was accepting, it was loving. She didn’t have anything to worry about.

Chanyeol’s eyes met hers willingly, though they bore a tinge of worry, and she nodded a sign of ease to say I’m okay now.

Chanyeol leaned over and placed a delicate kiss on the side of her mouth, nuzzling his nose there before retracting his warm touch. Seoyun let out the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding and let him guide her back to shore.

“Seoyun darling,” his mom called, “please tell me you want leftovers, there’s so much left.”

She was right, the food on the table was enormous despite the amount they all ate. Regardless, the comment fell flat against her and she couldn’t help but to smile at the irony.

“Don’t harass my girlfriend,” Chanyeol whined around a mouthful of rice, sending his mother a meaningless glare.

“Girlfriend? Isn’t she more than that by now?” She retorted with a wink in Seoyun’s direction. “I’m expecting grandchildren by next Christmas, you hear me?”

Baekhyun pretended to be grossed out as Chanyeol’s food came spewing from his mouth. Seoyun patted his back, trying to hide her smile.

“Mom, stop.” He groaned.

Chanyeol's mom only chuckled silently before beginning to pick up the mess, including Chanyeol's now discarded plate. Seoyun and Baekhyun stood up to help, taking dishes in and out while carding the leftovers into individual sealed containers to be taken home. Baekhyun, for once, offered to wash the dishes and so Mrs. Park excused herself with a yawn, sending Seoyun a second wink before leaving the room.

Seoyun was just about to go scold Chanyeol for not helping out when she saw his animated silhouette talking with his father on the balcony. They seemed to be in some kind of deep conversation, Chanyeol's hands making wide gestures while his father smiled fondly. The whole exchange made her heart warm, but she did wonder what they could be talking about.

“Ugh, Seo? Anyone in there?” She heard from her left ear, a hand and face popping into view. She shrunk back, peeling her eyes from Chanyeol before sending Baekhyun a look that screamed bro, boundaries.

“You gonna help with these dishes or keep eye fucking Chanyeol from across the room?”

“You may be taller than me, but not by much so I’d watch what I say if I were you.”

He quirked an eyebrow up at her, obviously not threatened at all. “Woah, is this your way of saying that you’re a closet dom, because damn, I could get behind that.”

She reached over and was punching his arm before he could even bask in his own joke. Baekhyun relented with an open mouthed laugh, the one everyone knew him by, and went back to drying the dishes.

“Seriously, though,” he started up again and she glared so quickly he almost dropped the plate, shaking his head at her. “I was about to say thank you. What were you thinking?” He wagged his eyebrows.

She ignored the second half of his statement, “thank you? For what?”

Baekhyun sat the towel down and faced her; his playful demeanor was slowly molding to something more serious, but still soft and sunny like how she imagined him in her head.

“Thanks for taking care of my best friend.”

Seoyun couldn't help herself when she smiled in relief, though she wasn’t sure what she was relieved of. “I’m pretty sure he takes care of me, not the other way around.”

He looked as if he was pondering that for a second before letting a long nah drop from his mouth. “It may seem that way to you, but take you out of the equation and then suddenly there’s nothing left.”

He said it so simply. And yet—

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he dragged out, “that he loves you, like a lot.”

She knew that, right? She knows he loves her, but of course, sometimes a reminder is nice.

“Now that, I can’t deny.” Came a voice from behind her. Baekhyun simply smiled that innocent, but not so innocent smile of his and dipped out of the kitchen, leaving her and that voice alone.

“What were you two talking about?” Chanyeol asked, coming into view with a lopsided grin plastered on his face.

“Oh nothing,” she breathed out. “Just about how I haven’t been kissed under the mistletoe yet.”

He hummed, wrapping her in his arms and swaying them softly back and forth. “Well,” he smiled, closer now than ever, “I guess I’ll have to do something about that…”

Yeah, she thought, reminders are nice.

…

Seoyun lets out a loud laugh at Chanyeol's impression of Baekhyun's mortified face during dinner when he saw that the first course was cucumber salad as they enter their home, barely remembering to kick the snow off of their shoes or hang their jackets in the right spot.

Seoyun's heart feels light and happy as she lets Chanyeol lead her upstairs into their room, his hand snug in hers. She realizes that this is a feeling she only seems to be able to experience when she is with him. It feels special, like a treasure they dug up together.

"Thank you for tonight."

He sent her a soft glance as he closed the bedroom door and began to hang his suit jacket. She began fiddling with the buttons on her dress, her gaze down towards the floor. She's never been good with expressing what she means, not with so much constantly running through her train wreck of a mind, but right now she feels like she has to get something off of her chest.

Maybe it was the way Chanyeol had looked at her earlier under the mistletoe, or when he exchanged his plate for hers, but either way, she feels so loved and cared for that it almost hurts. Hurts in the way that she’s expanding, growing, and trying to tell herself that she does deserve it. Chanyeol means everything to her and she is ready for him to know that her love isn't what it once was— that after everything she thinks she is finally accepting that love and giving it back just as equally.

She thinks she knows her worth now, which is saying something.

Comparing how she first felt for him to now would be like setting a candle and a forest fire next to each other, you can't deny either, yet the difference is almost laughable. She wants to be able to tell him that her love is deeper than the first kiss they shared in her stuffy car, the cup of hot chocolate he made when he came home to her shivering under his doorstep as a crying mess, when she spent the night for the first time and he sang her to sleep as she fought off nightmares of screaming parents, when she told him about what really happened to her before she met him.

Each memory shared made her love for him grow deeper and deeper, but something has changed now and she isn't sure if she can contain how she feels any longer. She wants to be with him for a long, long time, she just doesn't know how to express it when they’ve already been together for so long.

“Seoyun?” She hears him call, his voice tender and laced with something so raw that she can’t seem to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong, baby? Why are you crying?”

Seoyun looked up with confused eyes and found Chanyeol's worried ones as he came to her side, his large hand resting on her small cheek. She felt him brush away tears that she didn't know she had shed. She sniffed and let a secretive smile stretch onto her lips.

"I just love you a lot, that's all."

A surprised look fell onto his face and he opened his mouth to respond, but promptly shut it closed again. She knows this is because she rarely ever tells him how she really feels. Partially because she had never said those three words growing up, but also partially because she was afraid. What if her parents were right and she really was unloveable, worthless, not good enough? Would he leave her for someone better and she would have to pick up all of her broken I love you's?

"Say it again." He whispers, the shock now gone from his face and now in place of it were candles flaming to life. Seoyun doesn't mind saying it again because unlike then, she is sure of Chanyeol's love and now she wants him to be sure of hers.

"I love you."

"Again." He persists with a throaty voice, pulling her so close she could only look into his swirling eyes. He rubbed his nose into the skin beside hers, taking in a deep breath that stirred something in her stomach awake.

"I love you so much." She half moaned when his hands trailed slowly down her body, squeezing her in all of the right places to feel his love. The look in his eyes was something stronger now, stronger than the times before, as his lips planted kisses on the side of her open mouth.

She thought then that he must understand.

She felt her hands unbutton his shirt and slip inside to explore his smooth chest. He hanged his head on her shoulder, bringing his lips up to line her neck with fiery kisses.

"Tell me,” he demanded. “Tell me how you love me."

"I love that you always know what I’m thinking, what I need." She gasps out when he sucks on that spot on her neck. "I love that you stay up late just to make sure I don’t have to fall asleep alone. I love that you always tell me you missed me even when I’ve only been gone a few minutes." Chanyeol urges her to continue, his hand coming under the hem of her dress and playing with the waistband of her underwear, making her mouth go dry as she tries to speak.

"I love how you will pretend not to know me in public if I accidentally burp even if you had just done it too.” He pinched her where it counted, a half chuckle falling from his open mouth. “I love how you touch me so softly and carefully like you want me to know just how precious you think I am."

She could feel Chanyeol's fast heart beat as she palms his chest. His breaths have gotten quicker and he was letting out deep groans that were doing something dangerous to her as he moved against her.

"Tell me I'm the only man you'll ever love." He gets out into her skin, nipping lightly at her ear with a sense of desperation as his hands roam greedily around her body. "Tell me that you're happy here in my arms, that you won't ever leave me."

She’s not afraid anymore. She wants all of it.

"Tell me baby, I need to know." He whispers again.

The words catch in her throat as waves of what reads as desperation and an aching need swirls within his aflamed eyes. She can’t bare it any longer.

And then Seoyun was reaching up and smashing their lips together. She wasn't sure what came over her, but it seemed inevitable in the moment that they would kiss.

Chanyeol stood motionless, shocked by her actions, before easily giving in. A deep groan escaped his mouth that she felt down in her stomach as he moved his lips in sync with hers, putting his hand softly on the back of her head to deepen the kiss. He desperately clutched her to him as he traced his lips around hers, as if rediscovering her all over again.

Seoyun has always loved his hair and now that she could run her fingers through it anytime she wished, she buried her hands into it, twirling the locks around her nimble digits. There was no more space between them, but she wanted to be closer, close enough to feel like they were one.

Chanyeol seemed to understand her want, or really, her need. She pulled at his unbuttoned shirt, sliding it off of his shoulders and running her hands hotly over his milky skin. He latched his mouth on the base of her collar, his favorite spot, as his large hands ran up the side of her thighs and settled on her midriff with one gruff word, off.

Seoyun's mind was reeling with desire as she reached down to tug the dress off of her body, not caring any longer if it ended up crumbled or not. Her bones felt like they were breaking from relief as she fell back onto the bed, arms open for him as he followed.

Chanyeol was flush against her, all barriers between them vanishing, her body shivering in want for him. Her ankles became locked behind his, his mouth planting soft, lingering kisses on her exposed torso. His breath warm as it traced all of her skin as if trying to implant her whole self in his mind forever.

"Tell me," he whispered against her lips as he inhaled her greedily. "Tell me what I want to hear and then let me show you how much it means to me."

Seoyun felt over the edge already, her stomach tight in a knot, but his words were close to pushing her over. She wanted him almost more than anything, but she didn't want him to show her, she wanted to be the one showing him.

"You know I love you," she moaned into his rough cheek. "Without you," she confessed. "I don't make any sense."

Her hands ran along his arms and she swore she would leave bruises on his skin. He felt strong, though, and steady above her as he pushed into her like a wave crashing into the ocean.

"You're mine.”

"Always," came his immediate response, his voice like smooth honey as he kissed the back of her hand and fell into her once more.

Seoyun felt like her chest was ripping apart, she loved him so much. Fire was raging up and down her body as she tried to file each gesture into her memory. His hands gentle against her bare legs, the undoing gasp he made into her shoulder from her confession, the way they lost themselves into one another— she would remember it all for a long time.

Seoyun swore she would never forget, for the rest of her life, this moment. The way he called her name like every other word had been lost and the final kiss they shared before he collapsed into her arms, tired but full of one another. He kissed the crown of her damp forehead and she realized that he was home, and always would be. He was big enough to shield her from the nightmares of her past and she was finally enough, more than enough, for someone else.

"You promise?" He asked one last time, his voice soft and fragile-like.

"I promise."

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fangirl-inthe-us · 5 years

Text

A Rough Day

Not my gif

Cal Kestis x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: It was a normal workday until you get a horrifying feeling which thrusts you into a journey you didn’t think would ever happen.

Author’s Note: Ahhhhhh! I’m so excited! I wrote this as fast as I could. I had finals and I had a wedding to go to but I have finished it! So, this is a companion to Early Morning. After this fic, I’m gonna work on my mini-series called Before The Purge. I’ll make a post talking more about it. Without further ado, I present A Rough Day.

Nothing out of the ordinary had happened. My day had gone by as it usually does. I woke up, got ready, said goodbye to Cal, and went to work. I was assigned to cut some stuff. A below-average workday. Only, it wasn’t.

I go to work on time. I Was assigned to work beside my usual crew and did what was expected of me. I was working on a small thing when it hit me. A shockwave of fear punched rammed right through me.

Momentarily, I couldn’t breathe. It was like I forgot how to. My hands were trembling and I was numb all over. When I remembered how to breathe, my breaths came out in short quick. My body became tingly and a layer of sweat formed. I looked around to see if it was something around me. Nothing.

That’s when I closed my eyes. I focused on the force around me. I knew that this wasn’t the best idea but that’s what had to be causing this.

Focusing, I realized that it wasn’t me who was actually feeling the fear. However, It was someone nearby. The person shared a need to move. They were fearful and needed to get away. Confused, I opened my eyes.

I tried to ignore the feeling. I really just wanted to finish this job so that I could spend a nice evening with my boyfriend. Unfortunately, this damn feeling was pushing me to move. It was as if the force was telling me to figure out who was causing these distracting feelings.

With a huff, I walked over to my boss. I knew I couldn’t continue to work until I got over this. I told her that I wasn’t feeling well and that I was gonna head home. with drawn eyebrows, she told me to get better.

I hurried to the slowly approaching train. If I didn’t catch this one, there wouldn’t be another for the next thirty minutes. I hopped on as soon as I could. Once I walked in, I noticed something strange. The feeling was more intense but it was coming from a bit further down the train cart.

When I looked in that direction, I saw that Cal and Prauf were sitting down on a bench. The two were tensely whispering to each other. Neither of them had noticed my presence. I made myself known when I walked up to them. Cal was the first one to look up.

He whipped his head up with wide eyes. I raised an eyebrow. He only shook his head and then let it drop down. He rested his forearms on his thighs. This was not in Cal’s character to be this moody.

“What’s going on? I can feel your worry from miles away,” Literally, I mentally snorted.

“It’s…. it’s nothing,” Cal’s head was still pointed at the ground.

“We, uh, had a mishap at work. Don’t worry though! We’re fine,”

“Oookay, scoot.” I motioned towards Cal. Once he had moved, I sat between the two. “Are you sure you’re alright?” I was eyeing Cal.

“Yeah, I’m… um. I’m going to have to talk to you once we get home,”

“Oh, okay. Nothing bad I hope.” The only thing I got was a tight-lipped smile.

Cal rested his head on my shoulder. I watched as he fell asleep. When I knew that he couldn’t hear us, I turned to Prauf.

“Spill,” I squinted my eyes at him.

“Okay, okay. We were working on some star destroyer-”

“I know Cal told me this morning,”

“Well, our boss came up to me and told me about some problem they were having with the hauler clamps,” I pinched the bridge of my nose as I listened.

“Prauf, you know how dangerous that is,”

“They were gonna double our pay if we fixed the problem. We thought that’d be nice. Cal was hesitant but I talked him into it. It’s my fault,”

“No, it’s not. It was Cal’s choice to go. He decided to put himself into that danger.” Prauf just huffed like he didn’t believe it.

“Anyway, we go up. There were a few complications but we made it up there. What we found was amazing. It was a damaged Jedi fighter! I couldn’t help but think of the price we’d get for the thing but Cal got real defensive about it. Suddenly, one of the bolts snap. Next thing I know is that we’re falling. I grab onto the ledge while Cal’s leg gets caught in some wire. Then I lose my grip and I’m falling, yet again. This is where it gets blurry,” Prauf was looking into space trying to remember what happened, “Cal reached out and I slowed down. Nothing around me slowed down. It was just me. Anyway, I get pinned on this platform and Cal drops down to save me. We make it to a safe spot and he’s helping me get up.” Prauf stoped so I could process.

“What do you mean you slowed down?”

“I wasn’t falling so fast. It was as if time slowed down for my body. Y/N, Cal used the force.”

My eyes widen and I took a deep breath. Everything made sense now. The little things Cal would do. His reactions to when I would mention the force or anything Jedi related. He was like me. He was a Jedi.

“It makes sense now,” I whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“As you can tell, I got off work early today,”

“Yeah,”

“Well, I was spontaneously hit with this fear. It was a gut-wrenching, body numbing fear. I forgot how to breathe it was so bad. I couldn't figure out what it was until….” I paused, “Until I focused my mind. I lied to my boss so I could go figure out what it was. Or rather who it was.”

“I still don’t get what you’re trying to say,”

I looked at Prauf directly in the eyes, “Prauf, I’m a Jedi too,” His eyes widened.

“Wha- what do you mean you’re a Jedi?” Prauf was whisper yelling while eyeing our surroundings.

“I escaped to this planet so that the imperials wouldn’t find me. My master was killed on a planet far away from me. He was on the Jedi council business and I was left alone. I was barely a padawan at the time. I was almost killed but I got away.”

“You always said that the force works in mysterious ways. This just emphasizes that.” He was smiling a sad smile.

“Yeah,” I moved my gaze to Cal’s sleeping form,” He’s going to try to leave me. He won’t want to throw me into this mess.”

“You’re not going to let that happen. You’re like him. You’re in the same amount of danger as him.”

“Yep, and I’ll be damned if I let him leave me behind. He’s stuck with me. Especially after this whole debacle.” With that, I leaned back to rest my eyes.

It didn’t last long. Cal’s body jerked forward as our train cart came to a stop. He looked at both Prauf and I. We just shrugged. Standing up together, we examined everyone else around us. No one seemed to know what was going on.

Two stormtroopers walked in and glanced at everyone in the cart. “Everybody up. Identification ready,”

One of the troopers walked further into the cart when he stopped he voiced, “Move out and line up.”

In front of me, Cal’s body was tense. I followed him as he followed the workers in front of him. Once we were outside, the troopers had us lined up. Cal was to my right while Prauf was to my left.

The first thing that hit me was the rain. I hadn’t recognized it until it quite literally hitting me in the face. When We were in our standing positions, it had begun to roll off my face and onto my poncho. My hair was drenched in Matter of seconds.

When everyone was settled in their place, the troopers walked over to their comrades. One spoke to the other. I could barely hear what said. Not just because they were so far away but because the rain was muffling it.

“Tell the two that we got them lined up and we’re ready.” The stormtrooper that was listening nodded and spoke into a mic.

“That doesn’t sound good,” I whispered loud enough for both Prauf and Cal to hear.

It was at that moment that two imperial ships landed several feet ahead of us. Within a matter of seconds, one rather slim looking inquisitor jumped out of her ship while the other walked down a landing dock. Neither of them looked friendly.

Examining the two, the sim one held a confident stance while the other inquisitor gave a rough and tough appearance. Rough and tough, I noticed, had a lot more armor than Slim did. I assumed this was because Rough and tough liked to jump into battle while Slim was more of a calculated fighter.

“Is this all of them?” Slim voiced as the two of them walked closer to our line up.

She had an aura about her. Both of them did. It didn’t give me any good feelings and from the way everyone else looked, I could say that we all were feeling it.

“Yes, Second Sister.” After hearing this, Slim or better, the Second Sister sighed. It was jumbled because of her voice module.

“We seek a dangerous fugitive. This is no common anarchist but a devotee of the treasonous Jedi Order. Failure to turn over this traitor will result in a charge of sedition. Turn yourself in or everyone present shall face summary execution” As the Second Sister spoke, she pranced around us. It was as if she enjoyed this. If she wasn’t wearing a helmet, I’m pretty sure there would be a sadistic smirk on her face.

Suddenly, guns were aimed at our faces. The troopers around us were ready for the order to shoot and kill. I eyed Cal. Unfortunately, he didn’t look so good. His eyes were frantically flicking from the troopers, to the inquisitors, and to me.

“I think it’s time for someone came forward.” Out of the blue, Prauf stepped out. I made an attempt to grab him as well as Cal. He flashed us a warning glance. I let go of his arm. “I, uh… I have been working on this heap a long time. Way before the war. We refit and rebuilt ships.”

I listened to Prauf talk all while keeping an eye on Cal. He was moving an awful lot. I didn’t want him making any stupid mistakes. So, without anyone noticing, I reached over and grabbed Cal's hand. I gave his hand a squeeze for reassurance.

When I let go, I watched as he reached behind him. It didn’t click until a few more seconds. He was reaching for his lightsaber. He was going to do something stupid. I reached for my own. I wasn’t going to let this idiot kill himself. Though, I doubt the two of us could take on one inquisitor. Let alone two.

“We were the best in the galaxy.” Prauf turned toward the Second Sister, “Then came the Empire. And engineers… Became scrappers. The workers- They just started getting worked…” Prauf looked back a Cal.

“Prauf…” Cal let out.

I looked back at Cal. From the angle I could see, Cal had something in his right hand. Assuming that it was his saber, I pulled mine out. Without revealing it, I kept my arm tucked to my side.

“We all know the truth.” Prauf turned back to the Second Sister, “We’re just… Too afraid to say it. To the Empire… we’re all just expendable.” Prauf briefly motioned to the Second Sister.

“Yes, you are.” Instantly, the Second Sister was pulling out her lightsaber and thrusting it into Prauf.

The sight took my breath away. I just stood there for a second. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I could even say anything. I was just stuck.

For Cal it was different. He yelled out for Prauf. As soon as it happened, Cal was whipping out his saber and running right for the Second Sister. This snapped me out of my trance.

“Look at this. A lightsaber.” Cal’s saber collides with the Second Sisters. I ignited mine, “Oh, two lightsabers. Two Jedi scum.”

Just as I’m about to watch Cal’s back, He is thrust into Rough and Tough. Suddenly, I was moving too. The Second Sister had gotten a hold of me. She was soon repeating what she did with Cal.

Rough and Tough had us both within her clutches. She looked at both of us. A smirk shaped her lips.

“I found the Jedi.” As soon as she stopped speaking, we were falling.

Cal had fallen unconscious when the Second Sister threw him to Rough and Tough. As we fell he came back to it. His lightsaber ignited and I tried not to get hit. When we hit the train, his saber retracted.

Two troopers were in the cart that we fell in. Taking them out was quick and easy. Mater Plo would have looked down on killing them. But we had to move quickly. Saving both ourselves and the troopers was not an option.

I retract my lightsaber just as Cal is walking up to me. He has his brows drawn and he’s eyeing me. His jaw is set as he looked into my eyes. He was thinking about what to say. I try to smile but it comes out as a grimace.

“You have some explaining to do.”

“I get that you’re confused but you have no right to be mad at me. You never explained that you were a Jedi. How was I supposed to know you were one so I could tell you?” Cal’s jaw went lax. He sighed and dropped his head.

“You’re right. I’m just in shock over the whole thing. You’re… You’re like me. A Jedi.” The last part came out as a whisper. I smiled.

Before I could say anything, I heard more Stormtrooper chatter. I knew that we had to move. At any time, The Second Sister could find us.

“As much as I’m loving this right now, we really need to move.” I watched as Cal’s eyes went from soft to focused and determined.

(:)

We had taken a few troopers down. Moving on, we reached a platform outside. There were a couple of storage units that were tied down to the platform. As we walked onto the platform, I watched as an imperial ship flew out of nowhere. It stopped just a few feet ahead of us.

I was too busy looking at the ship when the ship started to fire at us. Cal had to drag me behind one of the storage units. We stayed there for a minute to catch our breath.

“The ship has a cooling time. If we can get behind the storage units in front of us, we can make it to the door.” Cal had grabbed my face to get my attention. When he let go, I gave him a nod to signal I had heard him.

After the next round of shots, Cal and I ran for the other storage units. We did this until we were a few feet behind the door. There was barely any cover for one of us. If we were to keep going, we’d have to time this right.

As the ship was firing its last few shots, I grabbed ahold of Cal’s hand and tugged him with me. He quickly regained his feet and we were running through the door. Once we made it, I made sure that Cal wasn’t hit. Thankfully, he wasn’t and we were moving again.

We had just stepped out of the next cart when the ship from before was firing and taking out the next open train carts. Part of it was still connected and thankfully it was climbable. Cal led the way with me in tow.

We had to traverse around the broken bit by moving down. In the midst of doing that we were shot at by the imperial ship. This rattled us and I lost my grip. Before I could fall to my death, Cal caught me. His hand held a death grip on my arm. On the other hand, Cal was also grasping onto the platform for dear life.

I was close enough to grip the bottom part of the platform and pulled myself up. Cal was then leading the way again.

With great difficulty, the two of us made it to another platform. In spite of our struggles, the imperial ship was waiting for us at the platform. Right as it was about to fire at us, an unknown ship flew in and shot the imperial ship down.

The unknown ship came to fly next to us. A door was opened and a woman stood by the door.

“We're here to help.”

“Who are you?!”

“No time! Keep moving!” The woman pointed forwards, “We’ll pick you up when we can.” The ship was then flying off.

Cal looked to me and I just gave him a shrug. Suddenly, the Second Sister’s ship was flying in the unknown ship’s direction. I watched it as it disappeared. Then, a tug was given to my arm. Cal was trying to get me to move.

(:)

Cal and I had reached the top of the train. As we walked across it, the Second Sister’s ship flew around the train. I watched as it made a turn.

“This can’t be good.” I let out.

The ship then fired several rounds onto the train. I watched as the explosions caused the train to get derailed. Jostled, I lost my footing and I landed on my butt. With the angle of the carts, we were riding down them like one would with a slide.

The wind around us made my hair blow away from my face which allowed for the rain to hit me. Some droplets fell into my eyes and I frantically tried to wipe them away.

When I cleared my vision, I saw we were heading for an enclosed cart. We slid through a few until we reached the final platform. Panic filled me at the sight of the drop.

Fortunately for us, the unknown ship from before had flown in. The woman stood ready to catch us. When Cal reached the end, the woman yelled for him to jump. Cal caught the ledge of the ship. I, on the other hand, timed it right and rolled into the platform.

The woman and I were carefully moving closer to Cal’s form. Before she, or I, could get to him, Cal slipped and was falling. I cried out for him. I fell to the ground. I watched as he fell.

Cal found a droid that was flying around and grabbed onto it. His added weight was too much for the little droid and the two started to fall slowly. I didn’t get to see what happened after that. The woman was pulling me up and dragging me into her ship.

“I need you to calm down.” The woman had her hands on my shoulders. She was trying to get me to focus on her.

“We have to get him” I breathed out.

“I know-”

“We have to go now! An inquisitor is after us and I can’t- I can’t leave him.”

“Listen! We will get him, but I need you to calm down and to sit down. We’re going to be moving fast and you’re gonna get hurt if you don’t sit down!” That shut me up.

Without another word, I followed the woman. In the cockpit, there were several chairs open. I look the one that was to the left. The woman took a seat in front of me.

“Okay, Greez you’re gonna have to book it. The boy fell-”

“What?” The pilot exclaimed as he quickly turned around. Looking at the pilot, I saw that he was a Latero.

“He’s fine. I saw that he landed on one of the platforms below. We just have to go down there and pick him up.”

“That’s not good. I just saw an Inquisitor’s ship head in that direction.” At the mention of the inquisitor’s I tensed up. My hands gripped onto my chair.

“You’re just telling me now?” The woman yelled at Greez.

“You two were having a bit of an argument and I didn’t want to intervene. At least you know now.” I heard the woman scoffed.

As all this went down, Greez was moving the ship to where Cal had fallen. I watched as Greez moved the ship with ease. The man made flying look easy.

From the corner of my eye, I could see the woman turned to me. I moved my attention to her. She looked like she wanted to say something.

“My name is Cere Junda. You’ve probably caught on that this is Greez Dritus. I’ll explain more when we have your friend.” I gave her a nod.

“My name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

“We’re approaching the spot. It doesn’t look so good out there. An inquisitor is fighting the boy.” Greez brought the ship over to where Cal was. Without thinking, Greez fired at the two.

I watched as Cal went flying into the air. He wasn’t hit by the shots but the impact from his fall made him lose his focus. It looked like he had hit his head pretty bad.

I jumped up from my seat and ran to the door. Opening it, I yelled for Cal. “Cal! Get on board!”

Pulling himself up, Cal was hurrying to the ship. I watched as the Second Sister’s lightsaber ignited behind Cal. I tried to do a force push but all my nothing happened. It didn’t even make her flinch.

Cal had made it unto the ship. Unfortunately, the Second Sister was running right towards the ship. I was suddenly shoved out of the way. Cere had pulled me further into the ship and pushed the button to close the door. It wasn’t quick enough. The Second Sister would make it on the ship.

Within seconds, Cere was pulling out a blaster and firing at the Second Sister. The door was almost closed when a lightsaber mark streaked across it.

Greez pulled away from the platform. When we all thought we were safe, the Second Sister came out of nowhere and started to control the ship with the force. Cere was smart enough to run up and pull the control. Instantly, the ship was forced to the side. It was enough to shake off the inquisitor. When she was gone, I watched as Greez took the opportunity to fly off the planet and into outer space.

I whipped around to look at Cal. He was looking at me too but he was still a little shaken. I moved closer to him. When I reached him, I grabbed his face and pulled him to me. I smashed my lips to his. The kiss snapped Cal out of his shock. Soon, he was wrapping his arms around me.

The kiss conveyed all the emotion we both were feeling. I tangled my hands into his hair and he pulled me closer. When the kiss ended Cal rested his forehead on mine. We were simply taking in all that just happened. We were both safe.

Someone cleared their throat. We were so caught up in the moment, We had forgotten about the other two people on the ship. Pulling apart, I looked into the cockpit. Cere and Greez were awkwardly standing there waiting for us to notice them. With a chuckle, I flashed a small smile to Cal.

Cal was back in his protective mode. He didn’t know who these guys were. I didn’t really either. All I knew was their names that they were showing us kindness. They did just save our lives after all.

“Sorry,” I let out.

“No problem. Just… grab some seat.” Greez spoke. He then jumped up into his captain's chair.

“Thanks for the help, but who are you people?” Cal was walking toward Cere. She had moved to the seating area outside the cockpit.

Greez looked back at us. He pressed a few buttons and was moving to where Cere was. Cere nodded at the man.

“My name is Cere Junda. And this is my captain, Greez Dritus.” Cal was listening as he surveyed the ship.

“How ya doin’?” Greez voiced. His voice sounded a little unsure. He eyed Cal as he scrutinized the ship. “Yeah, the Mantis is my ship but you better pay attention to this lady here.” Greez kept his eyes on Cal but pointed to Cere.

Finishing up his examination of the Mantis, Cal had turned back around to look at Cere and Greez. I reached for Cal’s hand just like I did when we lined up. I didn’t let go this time.

“So…. Who are you?” Both Cere and Greez looked at Cal expectantly.

“Cal Kestis.” Cal had let go of my hand and had begun to pace. Still taking quick breaths he asked, “Who was that back there?” Cal pointed to the door and gave a stern look to Cere.

“An imperial inquisitor.” I interjected.

“How-” Cal narrowed his eyes at me.

“One hunted me down right after the Order fell. It’s a long story. But to sum it up, I was being hunted and to get away I got some help from a few Mandalorian friends. They’re how I ended up on Bracca.” All three members seemed impressed. Cal held something else in his eyes. They held a sadness I couldn’t understand.

“As Y/N said, she’s an inquisitor.” Cere continued, “She’s a Force user hunting Jedi survivors. And now that she knows who you are, she will not stop until she destroys you.” Cere made sure to look at both of us as she talked.

“How do you know so much? And why’d you help us?”

“We track imperial communications. We heard the inquisitors were heading to Bracca. So we made our move.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s the bounty on Jedi these days anyway?” I could tell Cal was reaching his tipping point.

“That’s gratitude for ya.” Greez was also getting fed up with this conversation.

“Look I get it. You’ve been surviving on your own for so long that it’s impossible to trust anyone. And it’s what’s kept you alive. But this is about something bigger than just surviving.”

“Like What?” Breathed out, Cal.

“Like rebuilding the Jedi Order.”

I couldn’t believe that she said that. From what I’ve heard, the Jedi Order was destroyed. There wasn’t anyone to rebuild it. As far as I know, Cal and I could be the only Jedi left. And We’re just two broken padawans. That’s not gonna be much help when rebuilding a new Order.

Cal must have thought otherwise. “You two? Anybody else?” There was a light that was brought back to his eyes.

“Oh, we’re not good enough for you?” Greez had lifted his arms up in defense.

“The Jedi council?” I asked. Who knows, the things I heard could just be rumors. Maybe there’s still some Jedi out there.

From the look on Cere’s face, it showed that the rumors were true. There was no council and we were all that’s left. Cal, on the other hand, hadn’t caught on. He was looking at Cere with hope. He wanted to believe there was still a council.

“They’re gone.” She looked at both of us. When she saw my expression, she redirected her gaze to Cal.

“Oh.” Was all Cal let out. He was too disappointed to say anything else. There was a pause before he spoke again. “so, we’re all you’ve got.”

“Captain. Set a course for Bogano.” Cere didn’t break her eye contact with either of us.

“Aye, Aye.” With that, Greez was sitting back into his captain's chair.

“In the meantime, try and relax.” Extending her hand, Cere motioned for us to explore, “Go, you’re safe. For now.” Nothing happened after that. Cere went to sit with Greez. This left Cal and me to do our own thing.

“There’s a bed in the back. It’s small but you two could try and get some sort of sleep.” Greez shouted as Cal started to move.

“Thanks, Greez,” I said before I followed Cal.

Tags (Let me know if you want to be added!):

#Cal Kestis #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis fic #cal kestis fanfic #cal kestis fanfiction #star wars #star wars fic #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars fallen order #star wars: jedi: fallen order #prauf #cere junda #greez dritus #trilla suduri

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jitteryjive · 3 years

Note

FANTSY AU OH BOY*sits down and brings out a bag of popcorn and a large fanta* I WANA LISTEN ABOUT THIS ONE

HELL YEAH!!!

also apologies for this taking so long to answer!!! I wanted to write everything down :)

warning: this will be a long post even though it’s incomplete! also this will contain ode/pmtok chapter three spoilers since I’m not ignoring the fact that the game exists

tags contain all triggers.

okay, so basically, this niche au is entirely centered around the protagonists of my normal pmtok fics, consisting of Sea Captain, Ode, Prof, Cherub, DJ, and Shroomses. I’m sorry I don’t know why it’s such jitteryjive-protags-toadcentric but whatever, sorry guys

let’s start five thousand years ago. five thousand years ago, a pirate by the name of Captain Ode stole a legendary item from the heavens called the Marino.

it was simply a simple barter for the crown of the desert, belonging to a widespread king named King Shroomses (not to interrupt but HOLY FUCK his later designs in this story are like YES). for a while now, he’s held a grudge against him, as he’s much more skilled in stealing in this au and does stuff to fuck with him.

so, one day, Ode comes to make a deal with the King. he proposes that, if he lets him inherit the entire kingdom right now, he’ll have in possession both the Marino and boundless riches he’d stolen from aristocrats and oligarchies.

however, things don’t go as planned. Ode is captured by the King in response to the deal, surprising him.

he’s told to return the Marino to the heavens or else. like the crafty pirate that he is, Ode creates a plan to get away with the crown, and to seal the deal in a way the King won’t realize.

he tries to become king in the dead of night. he’s found attempting to steal the responsibility of being a ruler of the Kingdom, and apparently, this was the last straw.

this is where canon goes downhill. instead of being frozen and revived yadayada, he’s brutally executed on the spot (it’s not relevant to the plot but he was guillotined if you were wondering, ouch).

even though he’s, well, dead now, the King is still upset over his fuckery, and with necromancers growing stronger around him, he decides to take measures to ensure he will never walk the earth ever again.

he creates an elaborate labyrinth and hides the body of the pirate, convinced no one will ever revive his presence, and he goes back to his throne.

that isn’t the end of his story, though— he feels worse and worse for executing him in such a painful way, all on a personal grudge. it isn’t kingly at all to feel petty and take a technically innocent person’s life, even if everything he said was genuine.

over time, in his head, his morals degrade and his ruling abilities deteriorate as he falls into madness, believing he isn’t fit to rule at all with such a sin committed.

King Shroomses goes to Sedjet, the Fire God, to receive punishment. however, as a divine being due to his blessings, he cannot die from fire (MARY SUE ALERT /j).

he is severely injured, though, earning permanent magic scars all over his body that reek of flames and intended death.

so, what does he do now, to step onto the gallows and rid his kingdom of his evil doings?

the King decides to put himself into eternal sleep (contrasting from the non-au theory that he didn’t intend to sleep for a couple thousand years lmao). he curses himself a flower called the sleeping lily, shutting down his body and sending him into what is essentially a magic coma. he cannot be woken up, unless the lily is destroyed (causing him immense pain), or his living conscience is taken over. the way the curse works is that he allows himself to only think— his intention is to suffer and think over everything he’s done, to rid his body and his kingdom of anymore of his madness and horrible intention.

he orders his kingdom to set a new ruler, and to seal him into a room where his flowers will be kept and connected to his immobilized body. combined with the heavy doors, the flower’s intense properties, and the now hidden key to the room, there is essentially no way to wake him up. the King has finally gotten his wish— he will do the same as Ode and never live again.

he earns the new nickname of the Sleeping King, the once proud and prominent ruler dissolving into nothing more than a mysterious legend and a locked room. again, it’s what he would’ve wanted, to lose everything he’d built up to.

now, present time! woohoo!

five thousand years later, the story now focuses on a young bard by the name of Peter (this is DJ in the au, it’s his first name). Peter is a necromancer bard who comes from a long line of.. oh, pyromancers. they’re not very happy he’s chosen a different route in magic. (this is based off my headcanon/theory that he’s the Lighthouse Keeper in pmcs, just for kicks n laughs lol)

they have dreams of being able to revive someone great, to be known as an important necromancer who’s skilled at what they do. he’s had a dream to revive those important to him, too, considering an incident from long ago when a face-stealing monster (hole punch, not derogatory) took his friends’ lives and nearly took theirs.

however, Peter has no opportunity to revive any great figures of the past�� where in the world would he find someone, asking for a necromancer to try their skills and revive an ancient person fo the past?

he finds a scholar named Baker (ahhh prof the homosexual), who also happens to be obsessed with archeology and a certain dead figure in history that he has direct plans to revive and.. okay, on second thought, they find him sort of strange.

he wants to revive a dead pirate named Captain Ode, just a fantastical legend, to have him explain the entirety of his long-dead time. it could provide context for the backstory of the Sleeping King or perhaps the barren desert kingdom that once held the two figures of legend and wonder.

well, it works for Peter, considering they’ve got similar focuses, and they actually become friends! they’re besties now.

to practice the skills of an experienced necromancer, he goes around the world with Baker, the two practicing their skills and gradually collecting what little information they can scavenge for about the infamous pirate, now a shadow to the world’s past.

one day, though, things drastically change and pick up the pace. as they’re passing through a forest, known for its holiness and direct paths into the heavens, an angel falls down from heavens.

and not gracefully, as the fucker just like— *THUNK* hits the ground and doesn’t wake up.

now Peter (an inexperienced necromancer) and Baker (a wimpy scholar) are standing in front of an angel, pale and covered in feathers that fell off their small wings.

I think you can guess who this is, lol.

after taking the dead? unconscious? whatever angel to safety, they wake up. and instantly start freaking out, because through the jumble of words they’re spitting out, the two friends make out essentially:

they were walking through the heavens, guarding the clouds like usual, when the angels all around them began to panic and freak out. somehow, a monster with blades (scissors, not derogatory once again) had gotten in, and was now killing angels by slicing them in half and causing awful chaos all around.

at some point as they were running away, someone said a warning and shoved them from behind, breaking the magic barrier in the clouds and sending them falling all the way through the heavens to the vines to the canopies, and now onto the ground they were on.

so, essentially, this terrified angel going by the name of Cherub had just survived an attack from a monster and had fallen an impossible height onto earth, where they were now trapped. great.

they agree to take them into their care until they’re back to full health, and they’ll find a way to return them to the heavens— it’s safe to assume they’ll be in trouble for befriending a (literally) fallen angel.

the thing is, they don’t want to go back.

Peter and Baker are confused until they elaborate. recently, Cherub has taken up interest in a long-dead pirate by the name of Captain Ode. they’d already gotten punished for researching such a horrible, damned name in the heavens. he’d stolen the Marino, a precious artifact that was perhaps lost to time now, ruining any chance of letting those on earth to enter the heavens.

since they were so interested in Ode’s character, and that they held the belief he wasn’t as bad as the angels swore he was, they didn’t want to return to angry attendants who despised their growing opinions.

they proceed to ask if they can join them in adventuring, and their quest to revive Ode for answers of everything— they’ve always wanted to see the world.

with even more opportunity for information on a silence figure of the past, they accept them into their party. together, Peter, Baker, and now Cherub set off into the wide world of fantasy, still searching for an answer on the Pirate of Dreams and the Sleeping King.

the three become close friends, stringing quite tightly together that there is no room for anyone else— it’s just Peter, Baker, and Cherub against the world’s judgement, adventuring and fighting monsters and studying dead people.

which messes with a lonely Ken, a sea captain (Sea Captain) who considers himself ‘friends’ with the three. he isn’t sure where he stands in their relationship— he believes that all he is is a figure of transportation, boating them across oceans and supporting their adventures despite his buried jealousy and growing sadness.

he oh-so-wishes he could be part of their world. Ken wishes he could show his unused swordfighting abilities, be able to research whatever legend they’re investigating, join them and be considered an actual friend.

but, every time he asks, the three worried adventurers always say that they’re afraid he won’t be safe enough to come with them. he technically doesn’t own a sword he knows how to wield (why did he choose such a specific weapon..?), and they would hate for him to perish on a certain adventure. besides, they were scared, thinking about how he wasn’t adapted to the environments they’d been in— would he actually survive if he came along?

and every time, Ken’s pleas are refused. when will he ever get his wishes, to be part of them? to be as esteemed as Ode, the seafarer they’ve been researching?

but those are childish dreams, he tells himself. he knows he will never be important to them.

so Ken spends his days, sailing the ocean, wondering what his purpose is when his former purpose was nothing more than expectant ramblings. he’ll never be an adventurer, and he knows this.

the first section of this story is spent detailing Ken’s issues with his loneliness and yearn, and detailing the adventures our three journeyers are going about on, leading up to the true plot of the story.

Baker comes to find information that there is an ancient city deep in the desert, a kingdom of forgotten dreams and necromancers. as Peter is a necromancer bard and likes gathering crowds to their music, a small city full of necromancers is his place to be.

it’s also confirmed by Cherub that this is the assumed kingdom where the Sleeping King resides, the only ‘living’ person left who knows the location of Ode’s body. is he exactly alive, though, they’re not sure.

all they have to do is wake up the basically-fictional-at-this-point King, and they’ll be on their way to getting their precious answers about the history of the ancient times.

also, by this point, the strange party the three have created has taken up a name. they call themselves the Sun Keepers. (this is essentially a way to stop saying “the three” “them” “the group”).

the Sun Keepers head to the Sandcastle Kingdom (YES THIS IS A REFERENCE), asking the long-time residents where to find the Sleeping King. but for some reason, they get ridiculed and laughed at.

one of the residents elaborates that there is no way to find him, because his chambers were magically sealed with the only key that could open them. really, no one knew where the keeper of the key was, or even if she was still alive, narrowing down their chances of ever meeting the Sleeping King in general. woah, plot shit.

their journey takes a brand new turn when they go out, searching everywhere they know for the key that could lead them to the Sleeping King and then Ode.

eventually, more “oh HELL YEAH” plot shit happens where they have to duel the keeper in a battle of wits for the key. Baker’s actually being put to use 😳 also CHERUB USES THEIR AXE. IN SOME OF THE SCENES HERE

once they have the key in their possession, they head to the Sandcastle Kingdom, ready to open the chambers of the Sleeping King after all eternity of slumber.

when they break open the doors, they discover they’ve forgotten the fact he can’t be awoken— considering that he’s spiritually and physically connected to quite a few sleeping lilies, it’s going to be very hard to wake up the, well, Sleeping King.

they attempt a few things (avoiding the last resort of cutting off the lilies and causing him pain) such as naturally trying to wake him up I.e shaking his shoulders, having Peter try to revive him with necromancy despite him being alive, and using heavenly methods to wake him up.

with no way to wake him up, they, downtrodden, leave and lock his chambers. despite all this, hope was not entirely lost, meaning they had to take a forbidden path as to not risk his life and kill the king.

Cherub finds a way to cast a spell that will temporarily allow them to ‘intrude’ his mind, aka just fucking with his thoughts to get him to wake up. it’s difficult at first, as there are no thoughts to be able to intrude (his mind is oddly empty), but they’re able to wake him up.

the sleeping lilies disconnect, he starts breathing again, and King Shroomses is once again awake.

things go VERY differently that expected. instead of standing up or speaking or doing anything, he’s simply in shock and dumbfounded at the fact that he’s actually awake after thousands of years of thinking to himself, preserved in the ancient chambers of his palace.

he then says that he’s confused that two peasants and a divine being had woken him up with no guards in sight— was this some kind of mistake?

the Sun Keepers explain that they’ve woken him up to find the location of Ode’s body, to resurrect him for answers of a pirate’s past.

knowing he was the one who despised Ode and executed him, they expected him to put up a fight and to protest against bringing him to life, he accepts, saying he’ll allow it.

Shroomses explains that he doesn’t care whether Ode is alive or dead at this point— he is nothing more than a legend of the past, and he has nothing to lose or gain from bringing him back to life. so, bringing the one he so awfully killed to fruition, it’s not wrong in his book in the slightest.

he also elaborates that Ode’s body is hidden in a large labyrinth from thousands of years ago. originally, before he had his downward spiral, he despised the thought of Ode returning to mortality, so he’d created this elaborate prison for his body so no one could find him.

their goal won’t be easy to reach if they’re literally going to have to fight tooth and nail to get to the bones of a dead pirate. it’s really sucky for them that, now that Shroomses doesn’t care about whether he’s dead or alive anymore, there’s no reason for the labyrinth to be there.

he lends them a couple things to aid them in their journey, hands them the key to open the labyrinth, and wishes them off.

Shroomses also passes over the old clothing of Ode, his trustworthy, recognizable coat. if he’s going to be alive again, he may as well have the clothes he’s always worn.

he doesn’t even bother to leave the room or follow them or greet anyone— he simply sits back down into his ancient throne, amongst the dead sleeping lilies, and thinks about things for the first time in a long while.

with their road rocky, the Sun Keepers nervously set off to achieve what they’ve come for.

Ode, the Pirate of Dreams, soon to breathe the air of life once again.

(also, if you’re thinking they could’ve asked Shroomses about the past, they were specifically looking for Ode’s insight, as he traveled everywhere and Shroomses did not.)

the trip isn’t easy in the slightest at all— the three risk death and peril as they make their way through the endless structure, holding the bones of the dead man somewhere in its hands.

the worst part is is that they don’t know his location in this maze— it’s a mystery to where his bones might be hiding. good thing Baker has a shovel, though.

and Peter’s afraid to tell his friends that they might not be able to fully/actually revive Ode. they might not be strong or magically potent enough to bring the body of an ancient, ancient man back to life and somehow reverse its decay so the body is all back together.

hopefully, this won’t all go to hell and be for nothing. right?

after hours of staving off the magic of the labyrinth, a defense system to keep out people like them, they’re finally at the end of their path.

a small, simple room, with a grave marked with Ode’s name.

Peter casts the spell. at first, it’s messy— there’s blood, there’s guts, there’s things he wished he hadn’t seen.

but Ode walks again. he’s, surprisingly, acting normal— unlike Shroomses, who sat there for at least thirty seconds processing his existence.

they give him his coat, and now he’s in the full, depicted appearance of himself— the Pirate of Dreams, with his red spots and his blue coat.

he asks who they are, and the Sun Keepers explain just that. Peter, the young necromancer who’d just revived him. Baker, a scholar who’s been waiting to ask him so many questions. And Cherub, a fallen angel who’s been adventuring with them.

Now that he knows who they are, he nonchalantly agrees to teaching them everything he knows. although he is ruffled his peaceful deaths was interrupted, they’ve come this far to learn about him.

Ode doesn’t exactly have any opinion on this— besides, he’s got nothing better to do.

they depart together with small talk and no fanfare.

the four spend the next months learning all about the pirate. Ode does as they say and gives up everything he’s ever seen and learned. Ransacked ships, treasure islands, dead kingdoms of the past, everything an adventuring pirate would see on their travels.

they learn everything he’s been holding onto, the sights he’s taken in and the world he’s experienced.

every word out his mouth is written down and stored away for reference, everything now a symbol of the life he lived before his execution.

Ode bonds with the three, learning about them too and how they all met— even if it’s not an equal exchange, he still finds it usefully interesting.

finally, nothing’s left for them to learn. the three thank him profusely for his help.

he leaves with a simple goodbye to the three, off to apparently re-see the world in new eyes, walk on the modified land he’d ran across thousand of years ago.

the Sun Keepers know their lengthy, strenuous adventure is over now, but they’ve grown so close to one another they can’t help but want to keep going in their futures together, journeying through lands untouched and keeping their reputation as reviving such a famous figure of the past.

everything is well.

of course, that’s what they think. they’re under the oblivious impression that Ode had been cooled down to an unbiased legend, happy to comply to anything.

they’re painfully wrong, because he hates them.

at first, Ode didn’t know who they were— he assumed they were random adventurers who didn’t understand who he really was, which was technically true.

but when they explained that King Shroomses had helped them, he understood who they were. they were evil. they were malicious people, working with the man who’d so shamelessly killed him without a single thought.

and he was offended by how much they used him. at first, when he rested in his grave and grew dormant, he was upset that he was wrongfully executed. but after time, he’d gotten used to the blissful silence and approaching eternity of sleep. it was peaceful, really— no more panic or anger or joy or sadness.

he was dead, and he was fine with that. and that was where he expected to stay.

until these things that held themselves so high revived him with their shitty magic and said they needed him for— what— writing a book or something?

Ode couldn’t believe they’d brought him back into life, overwhelming and miserable for him now, just to learn about them.

they so happily worked with the King he hated, treating him like he was nothing more than a project to be studied. actually, that was who he was to them!

Ode analyzed their behaviors and got them to give up the things they were so vulnerable with.

he was finding the best way to kill them.

they were clearly affected by the state of Shroomses’ deteriorating mindset, nothing more than arrogant adventurers who gave him bad purpose. if he killed them off, he could move onto his bigger goal— the King.

and then he’d finally be at rest.

he targets the Sun Keepers first. he hears they’ve gotten off a boat in a maritime town, so he heads there to find and quietly take their lives.

however, as he’s searching the area by the docks for the sight of a purple haired bard, a scholar in brown, and a small angel with an axe, he hears.. crying.

Ode’s torn. he can either find them and kill them, or he can find the person who sounds like they’re sobbing their eyes out.

he chooses the latter— as morally screwed as he is, he isn’t going to abandon whoever’s crying.

he then discovers the crying’s coming from the boat that he hears belonged to the Sun Keepers. either one of them has been separated, which is lucky for him, or they’ve hurt someone dearly, only adding to the reasons to despise their guts.

Ode finds a freckly sailor, clad in blue, crying very hard in the corner of the boat’s cabin.

he won’t leave them behind, so he sits down next to them and asks who they are.

they admit they’re confused someone’s actually talking to them, then explains that their name is Ken. he’s a sailor who’s friends with a very popular adventuring team, the Sun Keepers.

oh.

Ode mentions that he’s.. ‘looking’ for the three, which prompts Ken to immediately direct him towards them, but he refuses his offer— some foolish adventurers don’t matter when he’s in pain.

the sailor is still perplexed by how considerate he’s acting (even though he’s literally asking what his name is..?), apparently not being used to people so nice to him. it’s been a while since someone’s considered his feelings, boating around so many people around the world.

after a bit of coaxing from Ode, he eventually lets slip that he hates his life. he’s such a miserable, greedy person who’s overly jealous of everything about the Sun Keepers.

they won’t let him adventure because they think he’s too weak for it. they’ve got such strong relationships with one another that it’s painful to even watch them stand together. he’s been friends with Baker for so long, so why did it take so little time for him to be painted over with new friends?

he finally confesses that he wants to know just why they ignore him so much, what they’ve been doing that’s making him a ghost in their lives.

Ode painfully reveals how he’s technically the reason why— they’ve been searching for him.

he expects the downtrodden Sea Captain to retaliate or get angry with him, but all he does is sadly accept the truth. it’s really his fault he’s so obsessed with the three.

the pirate backs up his feelings and opinions, however— this isn’t normal behavior in a friendship. this is neglect on their part, and he is a pawn in their game of pathetic research.

he finally speaks up. he says he hates the Sun Keepers, because they’re working with the man who wrongfully killed him over a stupid grudge of his. and they support this! they brush over it like some kind of mistake!

Ken is horrified to hear this, now knowing the deeds of the ones he is now ashamed to call his friends. how could he have been so blind to their horrible tolerance?

and that’s not all— Ode had been revived only to be used for research. he was treated like a lab rat, being continuously squeezed for answers about the past and everything he could remember. it was torture to do it, working tirelessly to give them what he needed.

combined with the fact Ken was only needed just to boat them around (as assumed), they were used in different ways by the same people.

they’re so much worse than he thought, it’s realized.

then Ode asks him something he’d never expected to be offered— if he’d like to join him in killing the Sun Keepers and King Shroomses, to finish off the ones causing them both pain.

it’s a hesitant thought, but he finds it’s the only way to feel better. obviously, they don’t care enough to listen to his pleas to adventure or even be friendlier with them.

Ode promises he’ll never treat him as awfully as the two have been treated— he’ll genuinely be his friend in exchange for working together.

that day, Ken left behind his role as an unsatisfied way to ferry a ‘friend’ around, and he became the best thing he’s experienced—

a bad person. he’s tired of being good, he wants to do bad things.

now that his hunger to be so much better than his measly past self is only temporarily satiated, he’s ready to use those swordfighting abilities he’d left idle, and join Ode on his journey to kill the Sun Keepers and the King of the Desert.

the two set off on foot towards the Sun Keepers’ distant direction, ready to complete the first targets in their intertwined destinies.

anyways! that’s all I have so far. it might be kinda cringe but this au is legit one of my favs of any I’ve written from how interesting it is to me. I’m probably gonna update/make my better refs for all the important characters and post em :)

if you’ve gotten this far in this wall of text, thank for reading about this! it’s incomplete, but again thank you for giving it attention.

peace out 💜

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azozzoni · 5 years

Text

I’m bored so I’m posting this today instead of tomorrow: Part 4. If you want to talk about VDS, I’m down.

“Hey.”

Lucas looked up as he stuffed his textbooks away, heading for the classroom door. Kes fell into step beside him.

“You okay?”

Frowning, Lucas didn’t want to think why Kes was asking him that. Because he was a good friend, he thought as they left the class, because that was the kind of person Kes was. Not because he’d been spacing out in class again thinking about Jens and the next time they were going to see each other.

“Fine,” he said, shrugging. He didn’t ask why Kes asked, but Kes seemed to watch him anyway as they headed down the hall.

“You’ve been acting weird,” he said, and Lucas didn’t meet his gaze. Weird could mean anything. “Is it your mom?”

Outside, rain fell in a gentle pitter-pat on the concrete and Lucas paused as they reached the front door. His mom was the only excuse Kes had, could think to reason away the way Lucas had been acting lately. Kes had no way of knowing it was something else entirely.

“She’s fine,” he said, shaking his head, yanking up the zipper on his jacket.

Kes didn’t reply right away, and Lucas didn’t check to see that same concerned look on his face. He knew it was there. It always was these days.

He wondered how easy it would be to just tell Kes, to admit that there was someone who actually made him excited to get text messages, someone who wasn’t just a friend.

Lucas wasn’t totally sure what Jens was, but it was more than just a friend.

Like ripping off a bandaid, he told himself as he paused at the front door, watching the rain drizzle down the pane. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he could just get it over with.

“So if everything is fine, you’re coming to the party Noah’s friends are throwing on Saturday?”

Another party filled with drunk people, people Lucas didn’t care about. He knew Kes was watching him, though, searching for some kind of answer.

They’d never kept secrets before, not until last year when Lucas had broken up him and Isa. Not intentionally but also yeah, kind of intentionally. It was the guilt welling up inside that made Lucas flash Kes a smile and shove open the front door.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, stepping out into the rain and heading for his bike locked up at the rack.

Kes didn’t follow, and Lucas let out a sigh as he got his bike unlocked and headed for home.

By the time he sloshed into the front hall, he was soaked, coat dripping as he peeled it off and hung it up on the rack.

“Lucas!” his mom called as he snuck down the hall.

Grimacing, he paused. “What?”

“Your dad called,” she said, her voice coming from the kitchen, but Lucas didn’t head that way. Instead, he rolled his eyes. His dad couldn’t have anything useful to say. “He says you haven’t returned his call in over a week.”

“Then he should take the hint,” Lucas muttered under his breath. “Okay!” he called back instead, as if that put an end to the conversation.

In his room, he kicked off his shoes and peeled off his damp socks before flopping onto his bed and pulling out his phone.

Now he had to go to the party, to act like he actually wanted to fucking spend his night watching couples make out and getting sloppy drunk. He could think of a million other things he’d rather do, but he didn’t know how to explain that to Kes.

Scrolling through his phone, Lucas paused at his dad’s name on the recent call list. He had no intention of calling him back--it would just be more of the same, pretending to care about him, pretending to care about his mom as if he hadn’t walked out on both of them last year.

He scrolled further, eyes falling on Jens’ name. He’d never actually called Jens on the phone, but it had been a few weeks since they’d last met up, a few weeks since Lucas had seen his face or heard his voice.

He still wasn’t sure what this was, this thing with Jens, and part of him didn’t care. It wasn’t as if Jens was around all the time, going to school with him, around every corner. It made things easier but also more confusing.

It was definitely something, he admitted as he stared at Jens’ name. They’d made out both times they’d met up, and there was that time they’d jerked off together in the dead of night, hundreds of miles apart but connected somehow. Lucas tried not to think of that night, to let his mind wander to it in class, think of the pictures Jens had sent, so brazen, so bold. It was easy to get lost in the memory, easy to get lost in the fantasy of what they could do if they were together. No wonder Kes thought he was acting weird.

Shaking himself, Lucas scooted back on the bed, sitting cross-legged against the headboard as he clicked on Jens’ name and brought up Facetime.

The phone rang before he could overthink this, and he took a breath, waiting nervously. Jens might not even pick up. He might be busy or with friends or…

“Hey.” Jens’ face appeared, and Lucas let out the breath as Jens smiled at him through the screen.

“Hi,” he said, watching the screen jostle. “Bad time?”

“Just heading home,” Jens said, and Lucas caught sight of what might have been a tree in the background. He smirked at Lucas. “And where are you?”

“I’m home,” Lucas said, flashing the phone around his bedroom for a second.

“Was that a Donnie Darko poster back there?” Jens asked as Lucas turned the screen back to him. He shrugged and Jens laughed. The background shifted from bright to dark as Jens kept walking, maybe entered a building. “You’re as bad as Sander.”

Lucas didn’t know what that meant, but he didn’t ask. He wondered what Jens’ room looked like--he bet it was messy, clothes all over the floor, hoodies and beanies and shoes in jumbled piles.

Setting his arm on his knee, Lucas sighed, watching Jens climb stairs and hearing the squeak of a door.

“So you just wanted to see my pretty face?” Jens asked and the screen stopped moving finally.

“Just wanted to say hi,” Lucas admitted. He hadn’t really had a plan when he’d called Jens. He just hadn’t wanted to be alone with his thoughts.

“Well, I like seeing your pretty face,” Jens said, and Lucas was glad the camera wasn’t great quality because he definitely blushed at that.

“Shut up,” he said instead, rolling his eyes.

He didn’t know how Jens could be so smooth, if he practiced it, or if he was just that confident. Lucas could do it, with girls, where nothing was at stake. But it seemed when it came to people he actually liked, he turned into a blushing mess.

Jens smirked, holding the camera closer. Lucas could see a bed over his shoulder, unmade, pillows smushed together.

“So what’s up with you?”

What was up with him, Lucas thought as he watched Jens through the phone. Kes knew something was going on, that Lucas was keeping something from him—his dad wouldn’t stop calling for God knew what reason—his mom seemed to think it was important they keep in contact even though he’d done nothing but abandon them—and he couldn’t stop thinking about that night Jens had texted him.

“Just the usual,” he said finally, picking at his comforter, only looking up when Jens hummed softly.

“And what’s the usual?”

They hadn’t talked, not really, not a real conversation, Lucas thought as he paused. He wasn’t sure he did that with anyone anymore. Even Kes, the person he was supposed to be able to tell everything to, even they hadn’t talked in a long time.

“I don’t know,” he said finally, setting his chin on his knee and sighing. “My dad keeps calling, like I want to talk to him, and my mom, it feels like she’s on his side sometimes, even though he’s the one who left.”

“Shit,” Jens said after a second, and Lucas laughed.

“Yeah,” he agreed. There wasn’t much more to say in his opinion.

Jens frowned, shoving his hair back. “I know it’s probably not what you want to hear, but your mom might be right.”

“Right about what?”

“That you should talk to him. You might regret not doing it later.”

At that, Lucas glanced up, at Jens’ shrug. “Why does that sound like you know what you’re talking about?”

“My parents have been divorced a long time. They get along okay now, but at first, they fought constantly and I always felt like I was in the middle. It took me a long time to realize it wasn’t about me, and I shouldn’t punish one or the other for what happened.”

Lucas looked away. “I don’t think it’s the same with my mom. He left because of her, because he couldn’t handle it, and he expects me to understand somehow.”

“Then it’s his loss,” Jens said, and Lucas looked back, at the slight smile at Jens’ lips.

“Do you pre-plan those lines?” he asked, and Jens scoffed, making a face at the camera, faking offense. “Or are you just that smooth?”

Jens licked his lips, gaze intent as he watched Lucas through the screen. “I’m just that smooth. And you’re just that cute.”

“Cute?” Lucas repeated, eyebrows rising, and Jens grinned.

“Hot, totally hot,” he corrected himself. “But I doubt your dad cares about that.”

Lucas grimaced. “I hope not.” Sighing, he leaned back against the board, checking out the window. It was still raining, the sky dark and grey. He wished he could just stay here, on the phone with Jens for as long as he wanted, that he didn’t have to go to school tomorrow and see Kes’ calculating look, as though trying to figure out what secret he was keeping.

“What are you doing this weekend?” he asked suddenly, turning back to the screen.

Jens tilted his head to the side. “I don’t know. Why? You have something in mind?”

His heart was pounding against his throat as Lucas considered his next words carefully. “I have a thing Saturday night, but maybe you could come over earlier and we could hang out.”

“Hang out?” Jens repeated, and Lucas forced himself not to hold his breath. “Like a date?”

“No,” Lucas said quickly, shaking his head. “I mean, not if you don’t want to. It, it could just—why are you smiling like that?”

Jens brought up a hand to cover his mouth, but there was no hiding his grin, and Lucas huffed. Jesus, he was terrible at this. Was it so laughable, the idea of dating him? Maybe hooking up was all they were good for.

“You’re nervous,” Jens said after a second, lowering his hand, but he was still smiling. “You’re nervous about asking me out.”

“Fuck you,” Lucas said with no heat behind it, feeling the flush on his cheeks again. “I’ve never asked a guy out before.”

He’d never even wanted to ask a guy out before, to do anything more than stare longingly at a pretty face, wish Kes would touch him the same way he touched Isa. Now, it was Jens he thought about when he thought about people touching him--a hand on his shoulder, fingers gliding over his hip bones, hot breath on his neck that wiped out all rational thought. Maybe they weren’t the dating type exactly, but they could still hang out, spend time together without it being weird.

“Come on,” Jens said easily, leaning into the camera. “You totally picked me up that first night.”

“I offered you weed,” Lucas reminded him. He hadn’t done it very well, only after Ralph practically forced him from his chair.

“Sometimes that’s all it takes,” Jens replied, and he smiled again, softer, nodding his head. “Sure, I’ll go out with you, Luc.”

Lucas sighed, somewhat in relief, feeling stupid for worrying. Jens liked him. He shouldn’t have been questioning that fact at least. After all, they’d made out, jerked off together, the promise of later lingering in the air, of next time. Lucas always swallowed down that thought, of what would happen next time.

“So, Saturday?” he asked, and Jens nodded, biting down on his bottom lip.

“Saturday.”

It was a date, Lucas thought as he leaned back against the headboard and smiled as Jens went on about whatever stupid things his friends had done that day. A date with a cute boy. Nothing could ruin this.

#wtfock #skamnl #vds #van der stoffels #skam nl #skam nl fic #wtfock fic #my fic

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