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foggyfanfic · 1 year

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Love and Fury

Chapter Preview: Leandra glared at his back, “Uh-huh, go ahead, have fun abandoning me in my time of need.”

“Gracias, I will,” Agustín shouted over his shoulder

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Chapter 15 Matter of Perspective

Leandra had figured that all Bruno needed was a bit of time and he’d relax around her again. She knew the situation was complicated, made even more so by their mutual attraction, but they were adults. They had gotten themselves into this mess, they would have to deal with it.

Granted, it wasn’t like Bruno was complaining, or pointing fingers, or even refusing to try to work on things. He was just, very obviously lost.

It had been two weeks since she had started being completely honest with Bruno and he seemed to be getting worse, not better. He was stuttering more, slouching in on himself more, even struggling to meet her eyes more. His attempts at conversation were stilted, and generally made no sense. Frequently he would blurt out something completely inane, then visibly grimace as she struggled to find a response.

One time he had asked her if she was interested in ears then actually slapped his forehead. Leandra hadn’t been able to resist the urge to give his shoulder a sympathetic pat.

He was trying, which was enough for her. As much as she wished they could go back to the way things were, she knew they couldn’t move forward until he trusted that she wasn’t trying to manipulate him for some nefarious scheme. And he was clearly trying to move past his initial assumptions and get to know her, she suspected that he may even be trying to start fresh.

But he kept panicking every time he spoke to her.

She sighed as she pulled some curds wrapped in cheese cloth towards her and placed them into a mold to set. She stacked the mold onto the others and reached for more curds and another empty mold. Eventually she would carry the filled molds down to the basement so the cheese could age.

Señor Matisse, the baker that loved experimenting with his breads and who would apparently win that year’s baking contest, had really liked the way his special order had turned out. He’d requested that it be added to his regular order and had remarked “I think I got a real winner here, whether or not the judges agree”. She had to bite her tongue to keep from blurting out what Bruno had told her.

When she was done with this chore she would go down to town to pick up some lye for her next batch of soap.

Hopefully she wouldn’t run into Cicero while she was there, Leche had spent the morning playing with the younger dogs and thoroughly exhausted himself. The only reason she knew he was sleeping and not dead was thanks to the occasional cloud of dog farts he created.

Cicero’s parents seemed to be making an effort to keep him on a leash, judging by the way his father had watched him like a hawk during church, but Cicero found excuses to come see her anyways.

Fortunately, Bruno had been very careful to make sure they were never alone together for too long.

She smiled softly, he might not be the smoothest operator in the world, but he really was a sweet man. A brave one even. A lesser one would have avoided her just to escape the awkward tension he was apparently drowning in.

It really was a pity he’d rebuffed her flirting, but she would respect his boundaries, no matter how much she sometimes wanted to plant one on him.

She picked up the completed molds with a grunt and began running through her mental to do list.

Market, then eventually feed the dogs their dinner, that was all she had left for the day.

Meanwhile, Bruno was sweeping Casita. Originally this had been Pepa’s chore, but since Bruno was constantly leaking sand and throwing salt it was generally agreed that he should handle the sweeping. For very similar reasons, Pepa did the mopping.

He was pretty convinced he was in hell.

Not because of the sweeping of course, he actually liked sweeping. It was meditative.

No, it was because Reina was being way too patient with him. He’d asked her if she was interested in ears for God’s sake. Ears! And instead of putting him out of his misery and telling him she had decided not to be his friend, she just gave his shoulder a little pat as if to say “You tried”.

So now he had to keep trying. Because Bruno wanted to be friends with Reina, and apparently Reina still wanted to be friends with Bruno. And if he just threw in the towel it would probably hurt her feelings. And Bruno was pretty sure that he would kill himself if he made her cry.

Not having any friends other than his sisters may be a bit lonely, but at least it was simple.

The problem was, he just wasn’t completely convinced that Reina didn’t have an ulterior motive for being nice to him. He wanted to believe she genuinely did like him as a person, and by this point, he didn’t have any evidence to the contrary but…

“Are you interested in ears?” Who says that?!

Reina was charming, confident. She had no problem taking this whole mess and all the feelings that went with it in stride. He felt like he was bogging her down.

He’d been dreaming about her some more. Sure there were those dreams where she was covered in honey, or peppering kisses on his face, and those were their own problem, but then there were the dreams that edged into nightmare territory. Dreams where he did something stupid in front of her, or told her a secret, and she’d turn around and laugh about it with Cicero.

He sighed deeply as he pushed his last dust pile into the dust pan. Now what was he supposed to do?

He had been trying to keep busy whenever he wasn’t with Reina, keep his mind off things, but two weeks of keeping himself busy had put him ahead on all his chores.

Maybe he could go into town and offer random people visions, getting yelled at should keep his mind busy.

Bruno shook his head, a run, that’s what he needed, a nice good run. Only this time he would not be going to that secluded pool that Reina apparently enjoyed being half naked in.

She hadn’t flirted with him at all in the last two weeks. Of course she hadn’t. He’d just as well as told her not to.

Back when she had been calling him “guapo” every other sentence, he’d assumed she was just joking around. Or maybe buttering him up. Now that she wasn’t… now he wondered if she’d meant it.

Had he accidentally rejected the most beautiful woman in town? It would be just his luck if he had.

Bruno got changed in a hurry. He needed to not think as quickly as possible.

Julietta had forbidden him from running in his sandals after he twisted his ankle three times in a week, so he had reluctantly acquired some running shoes and the socks to go with them. He hated it, his toes felt so stifled. Only slightly better than twisting his ankle.

Nonetheless, it made his sister happy, so he put up with it.

His tent was a bit of a mess, he could technically clean it, but it was a mess for a reason. One side of the octagonal tent was pinned and open to the rock wall of the hidden cave, and there were bookshelves carved into the stone. Except half the books were stacked on the rug, next to the pile of cushions in the adjacent corner so he could read them. The entrance of the tent had a wardrobe on one side of it, and a dresser on the other, but only the freshly laundered clothes were put away, the others were organized into piles based on how many times he had worn them. If he’d only worn them once since washing them, they went into the pile on the desk; if he’d worn them twice or more, they went into the pile on the desk chair; if they were ready to be washed again, they went into the laundry basket; but if they were particularly soiled or stained, they went into the pile next to the basket.

For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, allowing his clothes to mingle with other clothes that were a different level of dirty made him deeply uncomfortable.

There was a post in the middle of his tent, which held the cloth ceiling aloft, and Bruno had nailed various drawings to it. Most of them were of rats, but there were some of visions he’d thought were cool, like the moon landing or the World Cup.

Finally, the bed was made every morning, but a vital part of the bed making process was weighing down the blankets so it’d be obvious if there were any rats under them. One time Bruno had gotten under his blankets to go to sleep, only for something to skitter up his leg.

He had screamed loud enough to wake the whole house.

No, he decided, he would not clean up his tent. It was more functional the way it was.

He turned and left the cave, pausing only to pet a rat that was hanging out on one the pathways carved into the wall, then ascended the stairs to the entryway. Just when he reached the top step, there was a knock on his door. He frowned, maybe he should go hide in his tent until they went away.

The knock came again.

Bruno sighed and walked over to open the door, he was only mildly surprised to see Señor Sanchez, who was known for being a very cautious man.

“Thinking of adding another room to my house, but then again, might be better to use that money to retile the roof,” Sanchez said without a word of greeting, he pushed into Bruno’s room without asking for permission, “what does the sand think?”

“It thinks that color looks really good on you, brings out the lack of manners in your eyes,” Bruno muttered as he shut the door.

“What?”

“I said, I would be happy to check for you,” he smiled as politely as he could manage, “follow me.”

“You need to do something about these stairs,” Sanchez barked as he entered the tower proper and gestured at the stairs, which seemed to multiply every year, “my knees ain’t what they used to be.”

“Oh, I-I’ll see what I can do,” he hated when Sanchez asked for a vision, the man was always so grumpy about everything.

“Hrmph,” was the only response he received.

When Bruno had first opened the door to his room, the stairs to his vision cave only wrapped around the canyon walls once before landing at a great stone bridge. Now they wrapped around the canyon wall four times before landing at a plain wooden bridge. If the trend continued, he suspected that he wouldn’t even be able to see the top of the canyon from the floor by the time he was forty. And he’d probably have to walk across a tightrope to get to his vision cave.

He liked the new sign pointing up to his vision cave though, and some of the new wall carvings. They really added to the atmosphere.

In town, Leandra walked into the apothecary and was not entirely surprised to see Agustín there. Julietta could heal any injury, but there wasn’t much she could do about allergies, which Agustín had in spades. Besides, he made an effort not to add to her workload too much, and kept himself well supplied in painkillers so he wouldn’t have to take up too much of her food.

“So, was this another tree attack? Or did you pet a cat?” Leandra sidled up to him as he stared at the wall of medicine.

“Neither, I uh, I-it turns out I’m allergic to hay,” Agustín’s already red and blotchy face got even redder.

“And what were you, the son of the town banker, doing in hay?” she grinned at him, slowly. It had been a while since she had hung out with Agustín, mostly because his father kept him busy and he spent every spare second making moon eyes at Julietta. Nevertheless, they were the same age and had been in the same "class" growing up.

Granted, Encanto only had the one school, and since the school only had three classrooms, it only had three classes. But those classes were broken up into groups by age and education level, so her, Rosalie, Agustín, and Felipe were grouped together for their entire childhoods. Even once they'd started shifting from school to apprenticeships or helping their parents, the four had been inseparable.

When Agustín was pursuing Julietta, they had been his loyal wing man and wing women, Leandra had even helped him plan their first date.

Which meant she got to tease him to her heart’s content.

“Picnic.”

“Oh? A picnic was it? It wouldn’t have been, by any chance, a romantic picnic?” she laughed as his face turned an interesting shade of maroon, “You lucky dog.”

“Oh hush,” Agustín shot her a look, “like you’re one to talk. I hear you’ve been spending a great deal of time with Bruno.”

On occasion, she and Agustín had played Fuck, Marry, Kill, and whenever Bruno came up, she would put him under either the fuck or marry category, depending on who else was on the table. She didn’t have quite the same history of crushing on Bruno as Agustín did of pining for Julietta, but she had always been attracted to him. And Agustín was the only person who knew it.

Her grin immediately fell, “Sí. I have. But it’s not like… yeah.”

“Uh-oh, things not going well?”

She shrugged, “I may have botched my shot with him. Bright side, I can still, almost definitely, become his friend.”

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked.

She tapped her toe as she thought about it, then nodded, “You know what, sí. I could use your advice.”

“Would you like to go to…” Agustín made a big show of looking around for eavesdroppers, “the spot?”

She laughed softly at her friend's antics, and nodded, “Just let me grab some lye.”

“Ah sí, and I should grab… this one! And, well, probably this one. And this,” he shoulders slumped as he grabbed a cornucopia of medicines. She smiled at him sympathetically.

It was a good thing he was going to marry Julietta, otherwise he probably wouldn’t live to see his thirties.

They made their purchases and strolled out of town together, chatting and catching up. Leandra had been the only one to see how insistent Cicero was on Rosalie accepting a drink from him, she was pretty sure nobody else even knew Cicero had given Rosalie a drink at all. But Agustín was Julietta’s boyfriend and confidant, not to mention had been there when Cicero was chasing after Rosalie, it was no surprise he had pieced everything together

"How long have you known it was Cicero?" he asked.

"I- a while, I guess," she sighed, "why? Are you also going to lecture me about not asking for help."

"Yes, but probably not for the reason you think."

"Oh?"

"She's my friend too, you jerk," he gave her a light shove that did more to knock him off balance than her, "and Pepa will be my sister soon."

Leandra grimaced guiltily, "Oh, that's... a fair point."

"I've missed her, I've missed both of you," he glanced at her and almost tripped over his own feet, she caught him by the arm and helped to steady him without a word, "I know she's- I can't even imagine what Rosalie's been dealing with, and I know that she probably needs space right now. But I want to help, I would have helped you. Why didn't you...?"

"Because I didn't think about it, I didn't think about any of this, the only thing I’ve thought about for the past year is that night. And, well, recently Bruno. So there was no thought process, no pausing and thinking ‘Gee, Agustín loves Rosalie just as much as I do, maybe I should loop him in’. I just... acted. Kind of regretting that now."

Agustin smiled sadly, he looped one arm around her shoulders and gave her a side squeeze, "Ay hermana, no wonder Rosalie and Felipe were always calling themselves our babysitters."

Leandra snorted, "Yeah... yeah. Does it help that I'm asking for your help now?"

"A little bit, si."

They walked in silence for a bit. Slowly, Agustín grinned, he watched Leandra out of the corner of his eye.

"You want me to beat up Cicero?" he said.

Leandra let out an undignified squawk of horror, and he pretended to be offended. Putting a hand to his chest and making a big stink about his masculinity, until she smacked his arm.

He had only ever gotten in one fight, when somebody had insulted his dearly departed mother, and it had not ended well for him. He threw a decent punch, sure, but he also tended to trip over thin air. The ground did more damage to Agustín than his opponent had, but it had been a fair bit of damage.

They settled against a tall boulder by some rapids, where the sound of the water should shield the conversation from listening ears, and faced the path back to town, so they’d see people coming.

“Alright, so, you and Bruno.”

“Me and Bruno,” she agreed, leaning back against the boulder, “first of all, please don’t bring this up with Julietta, I have no idea what Bruno has or hasn’t told her and I don’t want to overstep.”

Agustín nodded, somewhat reluctantly, “I won’t tell Julietta, although if she notices something and happens to ask me I-I will tell her that you confided in me.”

“That’s fair,” Leandra sighed, “me and Bruno.”

“You and Bruno.”

“I- he made an assumption about me, a-and it wasn’t a very kind assumption, but in order to correct it I would have to blab something private about somebody else, so I didn’t. I-In fact I kind of, sort of, played along.”

“Uh-oh,” Agustín grimaced.

“I know,” she shook her head, “not the most mature thing to do, but I figured I would talk to the third party, get their permission to explain things to Bruno, then clear things up with him.”

“But- let me guess- but Bruno found out the truth before you could?”

“Sí. And of course he was hurt that I basically lied to him, so I apologized, and he forgave me. And then he tried to apologize for the way he acted based off his initial assumption, y’know?”

“Tried to?”

“I don’t feel- he needs time to trust me again, t-to be able to take me at my word,” she pouted up at a puffy cloud which was far too happy looking in her opinion, “and I don’t feel comfortable accepting an apology if… if it’s possible that he’s going to make another snap judgment about me the next time I do something without thinking.”

“What if he comes to the very correct conclusion that you're a little dumb?”

"Ay! I'm asking for help and this is the way you treat me? Well, see if I ever-."

"Perdon, I meant to say extremely impulsive. Better?"

"No, but fair," she shrugged, nodding.

"So, you and Bruno?"

“Si. Me and Bruno. The obvious solution here is time, right? If we just spend time together, if he gets to know me, if I’m honest with him, trust will happen.”

“But?”

“But… Bruno is super uncomfortable. He’s trying to not be awkward about the whole thing, and I’m trying to give him the space he needs to feel whatever he’s feeling, but he’s just… he’s just not comfortable.”

“I see.”

“And now I’m worried that he might never be, that I may have permanently blown it. I know that we could be really good friends, I would like to be more but- well, let’s just focus on getting to the friend thing. I know we could be friends, I just don’t know how to get past this, this place where he’s drowning in awkwardness.”

“Do you not feel awkward about it?”

“What? No. Should I?”

“Well, no, probably not. But I would,” Agustín shrugged, “I mean, you guys have only just started spending time together, right? A-and apparently whatever dynamic you had was built on a misunderstanding. I, myself, wouldn't really know how to behave going forward.”

“Like friends,” she held her hands out in front of her then clasped them together in what she felt should be the hand signal for friendship, “we want to be friends, so that’s how we should act.”

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, “Sí, sí, that makes sense, but hermana… Bruno doesn’t have any friends.”

“What? Of cour-. Oh.”

“He has two sisters, who are his best friends, but he doesn’t have any strong connections outside his family.”

“Right.”

“He doesn’t know how to go through these things, he probably has no idea what to do, or what the rules are,” he held up a finger, “and don’t tell me there are no rules. Charming people always say that, but trust me, as the clumsiest person who has ever existed, people expect you to follow so many unspoken rules. And if you can’t… well, you remember my cousin’s tenth birthday party.”

Leandra nodded, she did. They had been 13 at the time. Agustín had tripped and fallen face first into a woman’s chest and had rather unfortunately gotten a boner that his slacks did nothing to hide. It hadn’t been his fault, but it was still incredibly uncomfortable for all involved, and it was a few years until the other kids stopped calling him a pervert.

“Aright. So, he doesn’t know what to do,” she tapped her fingers on her lap in time with her thoughts, “so what can I do?”

“Tell him what you expect of him,” Agustín shrugged, “tell him he’s allowed to ask for direction if he isn’t sure what’s happening.”

“I-I don’t want to just barrel over him.”

“I know, and I’ll admit you’ll have to be careful,” he shrugged, “but he’s lost, if you want him to find his way, you’re going to have to offer him a lantern.”

She nodded, and started playing with her skirt, “Alright, next question. What are… reasonable expectations? I don’t want to push him too hard.”

Agustín pursed his lips and started to say something, but suddenly something jumped over them and they both screamed. The something, or rather someone, heard the screams, startled, missed a step, and fell into the river.

It was Bruno, because of course it was.

They both got up to help him out of the water, but Leandra got to him first, kicking off her shoes and hitching up her skirt so she could wade into the water besides Bruno and help him to stand.

He was at first too busy spitting out water, pebbles, and a damp clump of his own hair to realize who had helped him, but when he did, he froze. He had the look on his face of a little bunny rabbit that had just realized there was a jaguar hanging over it. A wet bunny rabbit.

“We uh, we’ve got to stop meeting like this,” she joked, hoping it would put him at ease.

His laugh came out as a nervous sort of cackle before he stuttered for what felt like forever, then finally just said, “Sí.”

“Are you alright?”

Bruno just nodded, deciding that his mouth couldn’t be trusted. He glanced over at Agustín, who had gotten as far as taking both shoes and one sock off before he realized he wouldn’t be needed, and waved nervously.

Agustín waved back, then leaned against the boulder to get his shoes back on.

“We should probably get out of the river,” Leandra said, as she stepped back onto dry land.

Bruno followed her then realized he had lost a shoe, he looked around until he spotted it caught in a small waterfall, being spun by the force of the water falling on top of it. He was about to go get it but Leandra put a hand on his shoulder, he jumped and she immediately took her hand back, apologizing.

“No, no, please touch me. No! I mean- it’s- you don’t have to- I don’t mind,” Bruno rambled, then put his head in his hands. He should hop back in the river, maybe she would be so kind as to let him drown this time.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Bruno nodded, not lifting his head from his hands.

He had given Señor Sanchez his vision (retiling his roof this season was a bad idea, but would eventually be necessary) then had set out for his run. Bruno had assumed that because he was running on the opposite side of the valley from Reina’s home, he wouldn’t have to worry about seeing her. But no, no of course not. Because here she was, and here was Bruno, once again soaking wet.

“Hola Bruno,” Agustín said, somewhere next to Bruno’s shoulder.

“Hola Agustín, how’ve you been? Julietta told me you discovered a new allergy?” Bruno said, casual as you please, without lifting his head. He wished he had his ruana, he never wanted to show his face anywhere ever again.

“Sí, sí, hay, if you can believe it,” to his credit, Agustín didn’t seem at all fazed to be speaking to Bruno through his hands. He really was going to make a great brother in law.

“Honestly, I’m sort of surprised you never noticed before,” Bruno pointed out, “you know, with all the, all the farm animals in the area. A lot of-f hay.”

“Well, I am a banker,” Agustín pointed out, “don’t go around the farms much.”

“Besides,” Leandra’s voice reappeared on Bruno’s other side, “pretty sure there’s only a couple of people in town who use hay for their feed. Plenty of other ways to keep your livestock fed. Here’s your shoe.”

Bruno peeked between his fingers and saw that she had indeed rescued his shoe for him. Now he had a dilemma, in order to reclaim the shoe he would have to take at least one hand off his face, which he didn’t want to do. He sighed, he supposed he would have to raise his head eventually, he didn’t see either Reina or Agustín being content to let him stand here until the sweet embrace of death rescued him.

Slowly, he put his hands down, and accepted the shoe.

When he looked up, Leandra and Agustín were having a silent conversation. Agustín’s mouth was set in a serious line and his eyebrows were wiggling meaningfully; in response, Leandra had her lips pressed into a frown and she kept shaking her head minutely.

“Anyways!” Agustín clapped his hands together, “I have to go… balance some mortgages, I’ll catch up with you two crazy kids later.”

This was obviously an excuse to leave, because nobody in Encanto had a mortgage. The town bank was more a town treasury and accounting firm than it was a place for people to save their money. And Bruno was pretty sure it held more ledgers documenting large trade deals between farmers than it did any actual cash.

“Wait, but, I still have more questions,” Leandra reached out for him.

“Ask Bruno, he can help you,” Agustín said with a not so subtle wink and began walking off.

Leandra glared at his back, “Uh-huh, go ahead, have fun abandoning me in my time of need.”

“Gracias, I will,” Agustín shouted over his shoulder, “bye Bruno.”

“Bye,” Bruno waved at Agustín’s back.

They watched him walk away. When he was out of sight they looked at each other, then quickly looked away.

“You uh, you needed help with something?” Bruno asked, rubbing at his arm.

Leandra snorted, then shrugged, “Sure, why not. You got any advice on how to make you more comfortable while we do this whole… trust thing?”

Bruno stared at her for a second, then he stared at where Agustín had disappeared into the distance. Oh. She had been asking for advice. About him. Did that mean anything? Probably. Did it mean something good?

“I uh- n-not r-,” he sighed and his shoulders dropped, “I-if I knew how to not feel awkward, then I wouldn’t.”

She smiled wryly, nodding, then walked back over to the boulder she and Agustín had been sitting behind when he’d accidentally vaulted over them. She sat on top of it this time, and he resisted the urge to ask why she didn’t do that before he launched himself into the river.

Leandra looked over at Bruno, dripping wet as he was and couldn’t help but point out, “Your clothes, and shoes will dry better if you let them sit in the sun for a little.”

Bruno didn’t respond at first, waiting for her to smile impishly, but she didn’t. He swallowed down his disappointment and joined her on the boulder, taking off his socks and remaining shoe, and setting them out on the rock beside him. He hesitated for a moment then started unbuttoning his shirt, not because he was hoping he could provoke her into flirting with him again, no, no. Because it would dry better.

Leandra bit the inside of her lip to keep from grinning as Bruno slowly unbuttoned his shirt, then peeled the wet fabric off of himself. Yum.

He laid the shirt out flat, then thought better of it and stood so he could hang it on a tree branch instead. When it was drying over head he sat back down and stared at the grass below the boulder.

“Do you want to know what he told me?” she asked, just loud enough to be heard over the rushing waters.

“I-I don’t know, do I?”

“He basically said that people pretend there aren’t any rules to socializing then punish those who fail to follow said rules.”

Bruno nodded, “Myeh, he’s not wrong.”

Leandra laughed quietly, and gathered her thoughts. Offer him a lantern. Let’s see, lantern, lantern, lantern… oh!

“Bruno,” she turned herself towards him and waited until he met her eyes to take his hand in both of hers, “until you trust me, I would like it if you told me when I do something to encourage your doubts.”

He gulped, looking at his hand in hers. It had been so long since she’d touched him so casually and he realized that he’d missed it. He’d missed it terribly.

“And… and I don’t expect gaining your trust to be like flipping a switch,” she continued, “I just ask that in the future, if you’re not sure of my motives, you ask me before acting.”

Bruno looked up into her eyes, which were soft and ever so slightly uncertain. She examined his face for a little, then hesitantly kept going.

��I want us to be… friends,” she licked her lips and swallowed the urge to tell him she wanted to date him, she needed to take this one step at a time, “and we get to decide what our friendship looks like. There are rules, yes, but we’re the ones who write them, together. So, what sort of rules would you feel comfortable with?”

He pressed his lips together. Friends. She wanted to be friends. Whether or not she’d wanted to date him before, now she just wanted a perfectly platonic friendship. Don’t get him wrong, he was happy about it, the idea of having an actual friend was exciting. Still, the part of him that wanted to lick honey off her breasts and have her run her fingers through his hair was disappointed.

He shoved it aside. She was reaching out, he was going to reach back.

“I… like- people don’t usually wait around for me to- to y’know, not be an awkward mess,” he finally told her, “a-and it’s not that- I don’t really think- you’re so good at the people thing, you know? And I’m very… not good at the people thing. I feel like- I mean why…? Why me?”

She blinked, momentarily dumbfounded, “Because we get along well. Because we share common interests, because we make eachother laugh, because you’re kind and reliable. Why wouldn’t I want to be friends with you?”

“You know why,” Bruno all but whispered, eyes skittering towards town. He found himself wishing that she was once again nearly naked, not necessarily just because he’d like seeing her naked, but because he felt exposed, on display for her. He wished that she was as vulnerable to him as he was to her.

Leandra looked at him, and she held his hand, and she told him, “You are very possibly the most wonderful person in town. Screw what they think, I’ll consider myself the luckiest woman in the world if I get to talk to you everyday,” and for a few seconds, it felt like his heart would beat right out of his chest.

He closed his eyes. He was going to try very hard to be normal about this.

“Bruno,” she squeezed his hand, then sighed, “I’m not saying I’m some perfect little angel who never believed a rumor in their life, but… but I watched Rosalie lose everything because the rumor mill decided she was the villian. It… it changed things for me. It changed everything actually.”

Her thumbs started massaging his hand and when he looked up at her she was staring at it, lost in thought. She worried her lip between her teeth for a little. Hesitantly, he set his other hand on her shoulder.

“It could happen to anyone,” she finally said, “what happened to her, it could be me someday, or my daughter or- or-. I’ve done a lot of thinking, a lot of watching, to see who I can and can’t trust if the shit hits the fan. I’ve ended friendships and am starting new ones, I… broke up with my boyfriend because he didn’t believe Rosalie and I knew… I knew I couldn’t trust him to believe me if-.”

When she stopped talking, her voice was wobbling just the tiniest bit. Bruno realized with a start that she was genuinely afraid of what might happen to her if she was attacked the way Rosalie had been.

He squeezed her hand and her eyes flicked up to his face. She opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it and took a couple of deep breaths. She brought his hand closer to herself, clutching it almost. For a second he thought she was going to kiss his fingertips, but then he brushed the thought off as wishful thinking as she instead placed his hand on her other shoulder. Leandra scooted closer to him, watching him carefully, when all he did was watch her back, she hugged him.

Bruno returned the hug quickly, he didn’t want her to think that she should avoid hugging him.

Leandra closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, taking a second to get her head on straight. Her father would believe her if she was raped, he wouldn’t throw her out, Bruno and his familia would be there for her, as would Rosalie, Agustín, and Felípe. It would be ok.

She smiled at him when she pulled back, “You believed Rosalie. You did what you could to make her comfortable after what happened to her. You are exactly the sort of person I want in my life.”

“Oh,” he swallowed deeply, “that… that makes sense.”

“And by the way,” Leandra shrugged, “I’m pretty sure Pepa has zero problem with you knowing what happened. The only reason I could think of for her to not tell you, is that you might be too angry at Cicero to not react in some way.”

Bruno snorted, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, thank you, but I don’t think anyone who knows me is worried about me trying to ride in on my noble steed and save the day.”

“I don’t know, we are all counting on you to keep me safe while I act like a reckless fool,” she pointed out, “maybe they’ve decided one reckless fool, hell bound on getting justice for their loved one, is enough.”

Bruno examined her for a beat. Was that really what she thought? That he might… do something reckless and heroic if he knew the truth?

“Do you… really think I’m capable of that sort of thing?”

“Sí, no offense,” Leandra said, “I definitely think that if somebody you loved was in danger you’d act first and think later. Which is admirable, and sweet, but I’m already acting first and thinking later so you’ll just have to contend with being the voice of reason for a little while.”

She was grinning at him, that part obviously meant to make him chuckle, but he just stared at her, “So, y-you don’t-? I-I mean you see me as a guy who c-could-? Did you mean it when you said I was a pushover?”

“When did I say-?! Oh. Right,” she frowned guiltily, and his heart sank, “I… no? Sometimes? I think… that you’re capable of great bravery, and I don’t really get why it only comes out for other people. People are horrible to you sometimes, a-and it’s only getting worse the older we get. You’re witty, and tough, and you could definitely put every one of those paranoid jerks in their place, but you don’t and I don’t know why.”

“Because I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Bruno said immediately, frowning, “I… I can see the future Reina, I could do more than put people in their place, I-I could really hurt someone.”

“Bruno, just because somebody doesn’t like their future doesn’t mean-.”

“Would you like to know when and how you’ll die?”

“What?”

“I can tell you. Probably. If you’re going to die from natural causes I could look and see it right now, a-and if there’s a chance you’ll be murdered or die in an accident, I’ll know because I won’t be able to see your death unless the accident is already inevitable. Do you think you could go through life with that knowledge hanging over you?”

Leandra didn’t respond, but the way she bit her lip told him her answer.

“I-I could just lie to people,” he elaborated, “I could ruin marriages, entire families, by saying I saw someone having an affair or, or, something like that. Or if I see something bad is going to happen to somebody, I could give them bad advice, tell them to stock up on fire wood and blankets when I see a lit candle will be knocked over and start a fire.”

Leandra reached out and put a hand on his arm, Bruno stared at it, suddenly realizing his voice had been rising.

He gulped then very quietly said, “I could ruin lives.”

“You won’t,” Leandra shook her head and gave his wrist a squeeze, “you would never.”

“I’ve thought about it, e-even been tempted to, to, you know. Especially when people are calling me things like Brujo or El Maldición. I-if they really think I’m a curse then, then… why not show them what a curse really is?”

“You’re not a curse.”

He just shrugged, “I- I worry that if I start arguing back… if I let myself be angry at people, someday, it could- I might go too far.”

Reina pulled him into another hug, this time she rubbed his back instead of clutching him. The feel of her soft hand on his bare skin was as comforting as it was exciting, and Bruno’s thoughts wandered away from all the ways he might hurt people. He squeezed her back and let himself enjoy the closeness for a few seconds before reminding himself that she only wanted to be friends and pulling back with a shaky smile.

They sat in silence for a while, both lost in thought.

“No Leche today?” Bruno asked.

“No, he was sleeping when I left and I didn’t want to wake him when I knew that if I ran into Cicero I could just say I was on my way to meet you and he’d back off.”

“Is it… really that bad? The Cicero thing?” Bruno asked, “I-I mean, if it is, why don’t we just banish him from Encanto?”

“Because he’s the only heir to the only winemaker in town and people are going to want some rock solid evidence before they agree to banish him,” Leandra explained, and Bruno put rape back on the list of potential crimes, then she continued, “and even once we do prove it, there’s going to be people who say it’s ‘not that big a deal’ and ‘not worth ruining a young man’s life over’.”

Bruno took rape back off the list, he couldn’t imagine how anyone could claim it wasn’t a big deal. He made a thoughtful noise and Leandra rolled her eyes at him.

“Ay dios Bruno, just have the awkward conversation,” she told him.

“No, no, that’s fine, I can figure this out. On a scale from one to ten, do-?”

She shook her head, “I’m not helping you avoid an honest conversation with your sister. You’re on your own for this one.”

He frowned at her but had to admit, “That’s fair.”

They fell into silence again, but it was a comfortable silence. He knew what she wanted now, she wanted a friend that she could count on when things got tough. He could give her that.

And! She thought he was “witty and tough” and “not a curse”. Bruno had no idea where she got the tough part, but he wasn’t about to argue.

Bruno laid back with his hands behind his head and Leandra surreptitiously eyed his taut abdomen as he stretched out. Would he fall into the river again if she asked him if flirting was back on the table? Falling in the nearest body of water seemed to be his instinctual response to surprise.

She’d wait, introduce it slowly and back off if he didn’t seem to like it. She didn’t want to lose the progress they’d made today. Although…

“Bruno?”

“Si?”

“Do you know what my first name is?”

There was a long silence, then Bruno let out a choked, “O-of course.”

He fought the urge to slap his forehead. Why did he lie?! That was the perfect opportunity to learn her real name. But he wasn’t an idiot, he knew how weird it was that he still didn’t know her first name. Plus he was sort of worried that she would be upset. He was supposed to be getting to know her, after all.

Leandra watched him for a second, as his eyes darted nervously from her face to the leaves above his head and back again. A part of her was annoyed that he didn't just admit to his ignorance, but could she really be surprised? He had a hard enough time getting up the nerve to have an embarrassing conversation with his sister, and they were still on relatively rocky ground.

And Agustín was right, Bruno didn't have friends. People were always so ready to jump down his throat over every little thing, of course the guy was a nervous wreck.

She decided not to raise a stink, and even debated just telling him her name, then she smirked, “Oh good, then I won’t bother telling you what it is.”

Just because Leandra was going to be patient about the whole name thing, didn't mean she would be merciful.

He grimaced, but flashed her a thumbs up.

She rolled her eyes even as her smirk melted into a fond smile, "Ay, Bruno. You're lucky you're so damn wonderful."

"I- you- lo siento."

"For what, being wonderful?"

"You know what," he said, miserably, because she was very obviously aware he had no clue what her first name was.

"We'll get there, I believe in us," Leandra said, grinning down at him, "we got this."

Bruno didn't respond, he was tempted to ask how she could be so sure, or ask her to promise, or stumble through asking for her first name. Instead he found himself just staring at her as she smiled sunnily at him. Slowly he relaxed again.

Leandra didn't need him to be suave, or charming, or normal, Bruno reminded himself, she just needed somebody who would still care about her when the going got tough. That was something he could do.

He smiled shyly back at her.

#bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal x female oc #bruno madrigal x oc #bruno encanto #Love and Fury

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csa-survivor-confessions · 11 months

Note

(?)

tw || csa/cocsa || r-word || mentions of sh || triggering subjects

vent || but i need advice

i went through cocsa from ages 4 until before i turned 10. i don't remember the full details but very very vivid image snippets of the events. it messes me up honestly. and it interfered with the relationship i had with myself, body and intimacy. i've always told myself that i wouldn't have sex with anyone because of my fucked up relationship with intimacy. i view sex as something that constitutes giving up my control and that takes away my autonomy over my own body. i frequently masturbated and it left me with overwhelming feelings of guilt and shame... and yet i would do it again. and the cycle would continue.

fast forward, i'm 19 now. and i recently had sex for the first time. my boyfriend and i were grinding against each other and it slipped. i told him over and over and over again that i wasn't ready to have sex. he was the one that suggested that we grind against each other, i just think that he could have done more to protect my interests. anyways, we had sex... and suddenly i was back then, being made into a sexual being before i was ready. we had sex two time and then i fell asleep. while i was sleeping my boyfriend r-a-p-e-d me. he says he doesn't remember while i am tormented by vivid memories and dreams of the r-a-p-e. i didn't break up with him, we're still together. after the r-a-p-e thing happened, we had sex again which was mostly me selfharming. i was triggered. and we spoke about it, i told to ignore my advances because i am selfharming and he promised me that he would. we agreed that we won't have sex until we were sure that i was healed. which was okay. except that one of my trauma responses is being addicted to him. i intiated sex and he entertained my advances which left me triggered again. he was worried about triggering me but he had no problem sticking his dick inside me even though he knew it will most likely trigger me and even though he promised me that he'll ignore my advances. his touch triggers me and it burns me but because of my stupid fucking addiction to him, i just to have sex with him all the time. he claims to care about me but he only needs me to ask him twice before he gives in. it honestly feels like he'd rather fulfill his sexual needs than protect me from myself. i feel selfish and unreasonable because i am the one that initiates the sex. am i the problem and am i right in feeling like this towards my boyfriend? or is this a legit trauma response?

sorry for the long post :(

Hello,

What your partner is doing is wrong, he was willing to rape you, therefore, he is sexually abusive. Even the first time if you were telling him you didn't want to and he wore you down then that was sexual abuse as well.

You are absolutely experiencing a trauma response. In multiple ways, the trauma response, likely along the lines of hypersexuality which was likely developed from your early experiences. And on top of that as you said you're caught in an addiction-like cycle with your partner. You are being traumatized during this abusive relationship. Going through this trauma is going to only worsen the trauma-responses

It can be confusing for partners when we have an "I hate you, don't leave me" response. When we both set a boundary but then push on that boundary ourselves. However, if you clearly explain what is happening, a partner should respect it. And if they can not do that, separating themselves from you is a kinder action to stay and continue to play a part in your trauma cycle.

You did tell him what was going on, he shouldn't continue to do actions he knows will trigger you. Again as I said it can be hard to be in relationships when people have complicated trauma responses, but if it has been talked about you should follow the decisions made when both parties are in a healthy state of mind, not when one partner is experiencing a trigger. If one party persist in doing more actions that trigger the other person, they doing abusive behaviour.

Crossing boundaries and doing things you know will hurt your partner are committing abuse.

If you can reaching out to someone who is close to you (geographically) and who can help you deal with the traumatic stress you are under while in the relationship and when possible get out of this relationship.

I will remind you you have worth, you can get out, and you can heal.

Be Blessed,

-Admin 2

#ask #is this abuse #rape cw #trauma responses #trauma #childhood trauma #hyperseuxality

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irenedubrovna · 3 years

Text

A post regarding Euphoria for the benefit of myself and basically no one else

So, it really bothers me when people say Euphoria is groundbreaking, progressive media. Here’s a dissection of why I don’t think it is, because this is what I feel like doing at work:

The character of Rue is objectively great. She by far receives the least overt sexualization, and is treated neutrally in terms of active sexuality. She’s treated like a normal teenage girl with mental issues and an addiction to drugs. She falls in love with a girl who she pines for and places on a pedestal. The reason I think she is written this way is because she is a Sam Levinson proxy. She written with gender ambiguity and with little regard to the experiences she’d go through as a black gay female, probably because Sam Levinson has no insight to that aspect of life. Her performance is heightened of course by Zendaya, who breathes unique life to the Sam Levinson’s artistic extension, and without her performance this show would not get even half the acclaim it gets. Attribute that to Zendaya of course, because the director has done little to deserve this acclaim.

The rest of the females, sans Lexi, are pornified to a disgusting extent, not only due to the fact that they are supposed to be underage, but also because their existence as people is treated as being absolutely secondary to their sexual appeal. They are foremost presented in terms of their relation to sex. Cassie, Maddy, Jules, and Kat cannot be removed from their sexuality without disrupting the plot or their journeys in relation to the plot. Why are the females so intrinsically linked to uber fetishized versions of female sexuality, or uber fetishized versions of blossoming female sexual identity?

Maddy is presented not only scantily clad 90 percent of the time, but also dressed in a precariously unattainable sexual fashion. At any given time she is styled to look straight out of, simultaneously, a high fashion editorial, and a “barely legal” porno. She is airheaded and profane, and promiscuous, her mannerisms dictated by the adult films she’s “studied” in order to project an image of perfect hyper sexual femininity. She’s complacent in becoming a prototypical housewife because it will earn her a comfortable place as a trophy wife. She has no aspirations beyond that. So, let’s unpack all of that. Maddy’s role in the show is mostly passive. The most active thing she does in the plot is revenge fuck a man in the pool of a party. Nearly everything else she does in the show that is plot relevant is of someone else’s volition. Even less of what she in the show is related to anything other than a man. She is abused and then pressured into framing another man for said abuse. She has no agency as a character. The only notable difference to this rule is when she takes drugs at a carnival, knocks a pot of chili over, and calls her ex’s mom a cunt. Removed from her active sexual life and carefully cultivated aesthetic, she’s a trite stereotype of an unambitious girlfriend who gets treated poorly. I see people call Maddy iconic, but if she wasn’t gorgeous and well dressed, I doubt anyone would even think twice about her, let alone create fancams and Instagram pages dedicated to her. She exists as a plot device, and as pretty set dressing to build up the shows aesthetic. Her emotions are not well explored, her motivations are sexist, and she is often there to be demeaned, objectified, or to say a bad word. The most damning part of her involvement in this show is her episode where it is stated that she, as a fourteen year old girl, lost her virginity to an adult man, and it is stated she was in control of the situation. This is a dangerous thing to say about a character, to any audience, but especially a young one. To imply that a precocious young girl was in control during her first sexual encounter with a much much older man implies things that frankly border on rape apologist ideology. This show states this unflinchingly and with no further elaboration. If there’s one thing that tells you that Euphoria is a bad show, let it be that. Also, if there’s one thing that tells you about Sam Levinson as a person, and the way he views girls and women, let it fucking be that.

Jules is a young trans girl. She also likes to have sex with men as a means to “conquer femininity”. Scratch that, she likes to have degrading sex with older men in order to “conquer femininity”. This mindset is shown to be toxic, of course, but I think the problem with this idea in general is that there’s no deeper exploration for what this mindset means. It implies that she believes women are the sum of their intrigue and degradations. This mindset I can only assume would be a cultivation of dysphoria and internalized misogyny, which this series is absolutely not prepared to address in a tactful manner. Jules is a teenager with mental illness, trauma, and is undergoing an identity crisis. There’s something powerful in her character, something worth saying, however we only get trimmings of those meaningful things, and are ultimately left with a hurtful depiction of a trans girl because all of her musings on womanhood and identity are incomplete, and they fail to reach beyond the surface of their thesis statement. She wears colorful clothing, is overtly feminine and artistic in her presentation. Everything about her screams insecurity over her own womanhood. That is the crux of her character. Now, I think we should ask ourselves, is trans person who is insecure about their identity peak representation? Is this what trans people deserve? Is it “groundbreaking “? If this show was run by someone else, I might be inclined to say that there’s nothing insidious about this, but this is the guy that made Assassination Nation, so I think we know what he thinks of young women, the way they should be portrayed (that is, for the capitulation of a man) and realize his inclusion of a trans woman in his cast is no more meaningful than the inclusion of any other woman. Women to him are made to be categorized and should, at the end of the day, be easily palatable for the capitulation of a man. The device of having Jules being interested in older men and rough sex for identity reasons is transparent. Trans women are exploited and objectified with a similar fervor to cis women, the caveat being that they are “a forbidden fruit” of sorts to straight men. Jules is sissified, her presentation fetishistic. Her role in the plot is more involved. Her relationship with Rue is sweet, though toxic on both sides. She is ultimately betrayed, blackmailed, and snowballs into something of a manic episode, all well portrayed by Hunter Schafer, but I don’t think her inclusion in the show absolves it of any of its many sins.

Let’s talk about Cassie. Cassie is the Eurocentric beauty standard exemplified. She is the blonde haired blue eyed girl next store, and her boobs are of course always on display. She is notably promiscuous, something I say right off the bat because that’s how she’s introduced, as a so called slut through the words of the devil (Nate Jacobs). She is a girl with daddy issues, which we are all familiar with at this point. Her sexual boundaries begin and end at the whim of her partner. The terms of her consent are much like the terms of consent of many young girls brainwashed by society and the rising tide of degradation porn: everything is alright as long as you provide them comfort and affirmation afterward. You can touch them roughly without asking, you can use them as a tool to affirm your masculinity. This is the way men prefer their women now: just broken enough to say yes to anything they want. It’s become a joke at this point. Men like girls with issues, but only the ones that will feed their own desires. Cassie Howard is meek. Her inclusion in the plot I suppose ties to themes of drug addiction and how it divides and destroys the people you love. It doesn’t show what it does to her beyond shaping her sexual encounters, which is no surprise. Overall I’d say Cassie is in this roster of females as the most traditional categorically, in relation to how men view women and further how they sexualize them. She has a relationship with someone who doesn’t really love her. That mostly what she does here. Gets used. Doesn’t drive the plot or conflict much. More pretty set dressing. More aesthetics. How this show consists of so many women but is driven so much by men is unsurprising, and, again, very enlightening in the grand scheme of things.

Lastly we touch on Kat. I’d like to begin with the fact that self actualization through sexual exploration, in a show run by a man, is just a cloak for a woman to gratify the audience with her sexuality. Regardless of whether or not she is plus sized, this is overt objectification. She is on this show to be sexy. Beyond that, the fact that a minor using sex work as a form of liberation is disgusting. Whether or not she is portrayed as “owning” her sexuality is negligible, and speaks to the same mindset discussed with Maddy. Minors cannot fucking consent to sex, sexual acts, or anything within the confines of such. It’s crazy that this occurs with two different characters in such a similar way. It has echoes of “Well, she looked older..” and “Well, she wanted it..” or “She’s advanced for her age”. Never, not once in the events of the series is there meaningful introspection on what doing this kind of thing does to a minor. Moreover, these acts are explicit, and made clearly for sexual gratification. None of these things are absolved by the fact that she’s plus sized. If anything, her body type is fetishized in this context. It’s also another case of a “good girl to bad girl” transformation, which are archaic and, of course, sexist. With the rise of adult websites targeting minors for explicit content, this is even more reprehensible. Once again, in terms of representation, is this really what speaks to you as progressive? Groundbreaking? A girl gains control of her own narrative by having sex with lots of men. She gains control by being sexy. She gains control by dehumanizing and objectifying herself. No she doesn’t. Media controlled by men will tell this story to you thousands of times, don’t listen because she’s bigger than a size four.

ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS ARE UNDERAGE. ALL OF THEM HAVE EXPLICIT SEX SCENES, EVEN THE SEXUAL ASSAULT IS MADE CINEMATICALLY PORNIFIED. THESE SHOTS ARE MADE TO BE OBJECTIVELY SEXY. THIS IS NOT A CASE OF SOMEONE CREATING SOMETHING FOR THE SAKE OF REALISM. IT IS ABOUT MAKING SCENES THAT SPEAK TO A MALE AUDIENCE. THAT CATER TO THE MALE GAZE. ARGUE WITH THE WALL.

I won’t go further into the plot, other characters, or the structure or the episodes for sake of brevity, but I felt compelled to air my thoughts on this to the void. I can only hope I was critical enough that Sam Levinson will one day see this and cry because another bad feminist thinks something that he made sucks

#euphoria #I don’t even think anyone will read this but #it’s just not good #sorry #anti euphoria #anti Sam Levinson

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xwonderlandresidentx · 3 years

Text

I forgot to say some stuff in my last Miraculous post, so here's a part 2 of things I would've done if I were writing Chloe's character!!

First, I forgot to say anything about Ms. Bustier gradually becoming Chloe's primary maternal role model! That's kinda important to my concept, I can't believe I didn't write that down, but uh... yeah. Sprinkle that in for some extra growth, starting at Zombizou. Chloe opening up to her, admitting her faults, and feeling genuinely happy with that hug were important moments for her, and I think should definitely be expounded on. Despite being the complete opposite of her mother, Chloe clearly admires and appreciates Ms. Bustier, so she's already proved to be a positive influence on her.

As well as Mayor Bourgeois and Audrey eventually getting a divorce. Not so the mayor and Ms. Bustier can end up together, I just think his relationship with his wife is toxic, and he and his daughters would be better off without Audrey's influence. Maybe she could chill out and realize that she needs to be less terrible after her ex husband and kids finally stop putting up with her crap. Or maybe she could run off to New York again, and not come back. Either way works for me since I don't particularly care about Audrey having character growth, as long as her toxic behavior stops burdening her family.

It would be nice if Chloe and Zoe had a healthy relationship with their mom, but if that were to happen I imagine it as a sort of post-series epilogue, adult life thing. Again, Audrey's character growth within the series doesn't really matter to me. I actually think trying to develop her character too much would distract from the more important characters and plot.

And I also wanted to add that I think Luka would make a good love interest for Chloe. I think their personalities would balance each other nicely.

Chloe would benefit from a guy who's patient, levelheaded, and with a strong moral code. Someone who will make an effort to understand her, and gently keep her in check. This fits Luka to a tee, and with her connection to Adrien there's precedent for her being attracted to those traits. Plus she did say he was cute.

I think Luka would honestly benefit from someone more aggressive. Because he's so easy going he can be a bit complacent, so I think being with someone confident, willing to take the initiative, willing to call out people who're taking advantage of his kindness, and able to push him to be more assertive would be good for him.

Having both been superheroes gives them common ground and shared experiences (although they wouldn't know that until much later), and in their civilian lives they can relate to each others' struggles with trying to reconcile with an estranged parent.

And their color schemes are complimentary, same as Marinette and Adrien, so the symbolism is there.

I imagine this romance would have hints starting about midway through Chloe's arc, with them (Chloe mostly) possibly being a bit flirty as Queen Bee and Viperion and bonding over family drama in their civilian lives, and then become official post redemption, some time after Luka and Mari's breakup in Truth. At first Chloe would be a complete tsundere, with her inability to process real emotional connection and vulnerability and all, but then she'd slowly open up, and be a lot warmer towards him.

Plus, I think she'd be a good friend for Juleka for similar reasons as to why she'd be a good match for Luka. Chloe could be very helpful in pushing Juleka to be more confident, assertive, and help her learn to set healthier boundaries.

Here's the first post:

#miraculous fandom #miraculous chloe #chloe bourgeois #miraculous zoe #zoe lee #mayor bourgeois #audrey bourgeois #miraculous luka #luka couffaine #miraculous juleka #juleka couffaine #ms. bustier #lukloe #queen bee #vesperia #viperion

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paper-n-ashes · 3 years

Text

New Endeavours

Characters: Modern AU!Kylo Ren x Female Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings/Tags: Explicit (18+), Sugar daddy relationship, sexual references but no actual smut, bisexual vibes, attending a strip club.

Author’s Note: This is all because of my love, @maryforyou. An AU venture she ignited and I couldn’t let go of. Read into this however you want, I’m an open book in terms of exploring sexuality without labels. Being the first AU I’ve ever attempted, I kept this as an intro, to hopefully dive into the more explicit content I’ve been ruminating on for too long as a Part 2 (depending on how this is received).

“Are you sure this what you want?”

You smiled sweetly, smoothing out the creases in your dress as Kylo handed you your coat and gloves. “Like I said every day this week, I’m very sure.”

He still appeared doubtful, plush lips twisted in a disbelieving frown. “I could give you anything your heart desires for your birthday, princess,” he urged, helping you to secure the top buttons of your waistcoat, his large frame shifting close to yours. “This barely seems like enough of a gift for such a special occasion.”

Kylo was used to showering you with physical symbols of his adoration in the 18 months you had known him. The man had more money than he knew what to do with, lavishing all types of jewellery and clothing on you, some of the pieces you were certain cost more than your tiny apartment in the outskirts of the city. Every time you tried to refuse the extravagant gifts, Kylo always replied with sweetened notions of needing to worship and adore the personified goddess he saw you as. And when spoken in his infuriatingly mesmerising tenor, they would quickly conquer your resistance.

You were acutely aware of what this looked like from an outside perspective. A wealthy older man courting a young woman over 10 years his junior. Bathing her head to toe in the finest attire, parading her around in places a woman of her standing wouldn’t have been able to afford in two lifetimes.

A label came with this kind of behaviour. One you didn’t particularly like, yet was still true.

Sugar daddy.

There wasn’t a way you could deny that’s how your association with Kylo begun.

You’d heard whispers of other girls at the college you went to doing it. Offering their bodies to the affluent men of this city. At first, you’d scoffed at the idea. But when that third overdue notice of your credit card debt came, with the threat of eviction hanging over your head, you didn’t really have much choice.

A name was given to you of a bar that specialised in these kinds of meetings, completely covertly of course. And there Kylo had found you, hiding away in a secluded corner, stirring the gin and tonic in front of you with a single finger. At first, you’d assumed he was a well-dressed bartender, seemingly too young and strikingly handsome to be in need of a place like this. So you smiled sweetly and told him you weren’t quite done with your drink.

Within such an innocent interaction, Kylo knew he had to have you. And he did, 45 minutes later in the poorly lit bathroom stall, half-dressed bodies clutched together as he had you perch on the porcelain sink, fucking you with an uncharacteristically reckless abandon.

He hadn’t intended to. He hadn’t been entirely sure what he anticipated from that evening, the recommendation being given to him from a higher executive who regularly partook in the questionable operations of this establishment. Kylo meant only to scope the place out, sit for a quiet solitary drink out of the way of other patrons. There, he’d discovered you.

Shrinking into your stool, somewhat inhibited, clearly out of your element. The shy smile that spread across your face after he murmured a stiff hello ensnared him in moments, simply for how sincere it was. He wasn’t used to that.

Another thing Kylo wasn’t used to was the type of electricity that followed in your conversation. Rarely had he experienced an exchange that was so charged yet… genuine. You didn’t appear expectant, didn’t care to know how much money he made or the status of his career. You simply wanted to talk.

It was interesting how this fuelled an urge to make you speechless, to have you resorting to whines and whimpers rather than articulate your thoughts with any words. He didn’t act on them. Content to bide his time, play his cards right, set a precedence of composure and restraint in the hope of securing another meeting. You, however, had never cultivated the same type of discipline Kylo had.

After too many long minutes of flirtatious banter, you leaned forward, mouthing in a hushed tone, asking him to meet you in the women’s bathroom.

The chance encounter had bound you for longer than predicted.

Although never explicitly stated, the two of you fulfilled a portion of each other’s needs. Kylo required adequate distraction from his corporate life, someone who could slip into his erratic schedule with ease to… relieve him of mounting tension. In return, he provided you the monetary means to live in the city of your dreams without constant fear of homelessness.

In the months that passed, your arrangement turned into something stable, secure. His presence a constant in your life. While his working hours were long and finishing times unpredictable, Kylo could always count on you to be summoned to him from a single text message. Be it in the middle of the day, or the early hours of morning, you would race to a place of his choosing. Sometimes at his lush apartment, sometimes his office, and a plethora of restaurant bathrooms across the city after particularly stressful business lunches.

Initially, your involvement was kept mostly out of public view. Kylo had wanted to protect you from the judgements and negative connotations that were unavoidable in the arena of his work. Around the year mark, these reservations about being seen with you seemed to dissipate. Soon you were linked hand in hand at countless high-class dinners and charity events. A poised and elegant couple, right until the last set of eyes moved away.

This is where you had your fun.

As spectacular as Kylo was at fucking you until you saw stars, he’d surprisingly gone this long in life without venturing into more creative territory when it came to satisfaction. His version of sex was fast and hard, needing as much as you as he could get, chasing release with no frills or diversion. He’d never had the time, or the right lover, to encourage any of his deeply hidden fantasies. Until you.

You were game for anything. Sexually adventurous. Ready and willing to try all there was on offer just to elicit the highest levels of ecstasy. It was difficult not to be at the thought of Kylo’s hands, his mouth, his tongue, any part of him.

Although a little more slowly, he began to welcome new experiences, new pursuits of pleasure. Witnessing your reactions to these efforts became somewhat of an addiction for him. The way you writhed and squealed when exploring anal play for the first time. The way you surrendered and adored his verbal degradation and physical strikes. The way your body twitched and spasmed after the use of a newly obtained toy purchased with his platinum credit card.

You never pushed him, or forced him into anything he found uncomfortable in the chase of a sexual high. Communication was paramount, and boundaries were respected.

Interestingly enough, tonight was a boundary he never thought you’d cross.

“This is what I asked for, remember?” you smiled, taking the opportunity to press a gentle kiss to his nose.

Kylo’s apprehension refused to dissipate, while still clutching you closer. “It just… seems like this is something I will enjoy more than you.”

You barely withheld the urge to roll your eyes. “You’re sure about that, are you?”

His eyebrows crinkled, thinking the question over. There was the hint of a smirk that tugged the corner of his mouth, a subtle excited quiver in the breath he exhaled. “So you’re not doing this for me?”

“Not at all,” you breathed. Your palm slipped under his clean-shaven jaw, skating a thumb reassuringly over his cheek. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

“You have?”

You hummed a yes, drifting your lips intoxicatingly close to his, staring up with wide eyes.

Kylo’s mouth twisted slightly. “I wouldn’t want you to feel jealous, princess.”

“You’re only looking,” you insisted softly. “And, even if you touch a little…” You bit your lip at the thought. “Those women won’t be who gets to be taken home and fucked until it hurts.”

There was a noticeable tensing in the arms circled around you, as Kylo’s eyes began to burn with an impatient greed. “I could do that now, right against this door.”

It was difficult to deny how you’d happily allow him to make true on that statement. To slam you into the exquisitely carved oak door of his apartment and fill you to your absolute limit. However, the tantalising image of your planned evening was too consuming, heaving and tugging for you to indulge a deeply embedded desire you’d never been brave enough to pursue.

“Save it for when we get home,” you chirped, reaching for the doorhandle and dragging Kylo into the hallway.

“Follow me,” the maître D instructed, her voice cheerfully welcoming. Even the sight of her silken, green dress was intimidating, the fabric glossing over her nimble shape as she guided you up the set of stairs. The lighting was low, almost too dark to see properly, Kylo’s grip strong as your steps were drowned out by the sultry music emanating behind the double doors at the apex. As they were opened to you, the hypnotic baseline ricocheted around your body.

You scanned around the large room, bold lights illuminating a risen stage with two currently unused silver poles at either corner. Plush chairs circled around, occupied by a differing array of men. Slinking between the patrons were women decorated with luxurious, high-end lingerie, each one styled and set to provoke unyielding temptation.

This was a completely new undertaking for you. Attending a strip club. Usually a male endeavour, seeking out instant gratification in the form of scantily clad bodies and paid attention. You knew this was an unusual request for a birthday outing, yet in truth there was nothing from Kylo you wanted more.

The two reasons were somewhat opposing, although they would still feed the same goal. Satisfying a craving.

One being that you had always found women to be alluring and captivating to a height you’d never really accepted, almost been afraid of. Only with time and maturity had you learned your attraction to them was a natural occurrence you were now ready to explore.

The other reason was a little more scandalous, and what you hadn’t quite articulated to Kylo yet. To have the view of his eyes roaming another woman’s almost naked body as she exposed herself to him, drove you wild. In a situation you should feel jealousy, you were only devoured by an uncontainable lust.

Occasionally your mind had forayed into imaginations where he would take another like he’d taken you countless times, able to watch his hands clawing at supple breasts, the smooth motion of his hips, how his thick cock would split a tight, dripping cunt in two. All the while he would deride and goad you, layering you with taunts, desperate to inflame your envy and ownership.

Your plan for this particular evening didn’t extend that far. You only wished to enjoy the performance of mesmeric women in their most enchanting form, observe Kylo’s undeniable arousal at the same lithe, flexible bodies, and return home to remind him that only you could ignite the billowing flames of a violent release.

Oh, but that plan crumbled when you’d each settled into your seats, just in time for the next show of seduction. A pair of glittered, platform heels slinked near to the pole closest to you, your vision roaming upwards over the statuesque figure they connected to. Delicately laced, ivory fabric shielded her most intimate portions from full view, conforming flawlessly to the curves of her figure. Somehow demure yet indecently sensual.

Lips parted, your breath hitched as the exquisite woman twirled around, her eyes trained to you as she let a wicked smile appear. You were sure this was a regular occurrence, a flirtation she expressed to all the patrons in this room. Yet, as she began to move in time with the decadent beat of the music, her eyes stayed transfixed to you marvelling stare.

In an unprecedented display of courage, you beckoned Kylo closer to you, whispering to his ear. “Her. That’s what I really want for my birthday.”

*To be continued*

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shihalyfie · 3 years

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A guide to the 02 kids’ personalities and overall demeanors

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

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

Daisuke and V-mon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ken and Wormmon

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

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

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

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

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

Miyako and Hawkmon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Iori and Armadimon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Takeru and Patamon

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

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

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

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

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

Hikari and Tailmon

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

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

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

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

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

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mybg3notebook · 3 years

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Gale: Manipulation, Lies, and Trust

Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were written up to the game version v4.1.104.3536 (Early access). As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information. Written in June 2021.

Additional disclaimers about meta-knowledge and interpretations in this (post) while disclaimers about Context in this (one).

Before anything I strongly suggest reading this post about "Context, persuasion, and manipulation" to understand in a simplified way the meaning of the words we use, so despite not being related to bg3, it's related to communication and social issues. Since fandom loves to misuse them, I think it requires a proper explanation so we all know in which frame we are analysing these scenes.

Due to the fact that this post ended up turning into a much longer one than I wanted to, I split it into four posts, each of them showing how many sides Gale has in those scenes, how much his actions are "manipulative", how many details related to lore he shares, and possible interpretations of his behaviour, since it's rather easy to lose his scenes because they have the lowest priority. In this post I will only make a summary and a compilation of the broad details explained in those posts, so pick what you want to read since all these posts may have overlap of information and repetitive concepts (they were written to be self-contained as much as possible).

'Stew'Scene

"Loss Scene"

"Party Scene" (with Revelation scene)

"Extra Scenes": Death Protocol and Comments on Dreams

I'm analysing these scenes in detail because I noticed that many players incorrectly paraphrase Gale's words, putting in his mouth words he never said, so for the sake of transparency, I transcribed many fragments of his dialogues, making these posts more lengthy than they should be.

The stew scene

The details are shown in the post of the "'Stew'Scene". In this scene, Gale shares a friendly introduction with the stew and with a list of good deeds done by Tav. This shows that he has begun to trust Tav so he can talk about this issue earlier than he wanted to (he will wait much longer in the neutral version). As a gesture of honesty, Gale sets an explicit boundary by telling Tav to refrain their curiosity and do not ask about the 'why' of the issue he is about to talk about (under no circumstance he is forcing Tav to agree with the delivery of artefacts before telling them 'what' he needs). He acknowledges that it may be unfair not to give the whole context, but he still can't speak in detail about this very personal issue. As an interesting detail, his trust in Tav at this moment of the conversation is so honest that he has not shielded his mind, so Tav can intrude with the tadpole without Gale knowing it—if Tav succeeds— . If Gale doesn't trust Tav even successful intrusions of the tadpole can be perceived by Gale's trained and cautious mind. For more detail read the post of "The Tadpole".

I personally interpret the stew scene as one of those moments in which one is developing a friendship with a stranger, and at some point, someone has to trust first. It's a rare occasion in which the act of trust is shared in equal measure by both members in a new relationship. Usually, one of them offers a bigger portion of trust, testing the other, seeing if it was not misplaced or if it will be honoured later. It's a normal asymmetry, and in this case, Gale is only explicitly asking for that asymmetry in his favour.

Considering how Gale opens up later, Tav passed the test in his eyes. Helping him during his direst moment and accepting that temporal trust asymmetry made Tav “earn the respect of years” despite being a stranger he met a couple of days or weeks ago. But Gale will not be blind to that gesture. He will progressively honour that trust in the Weave, the Loss, and the Revelation scenes. And by the end of EA, if it is not bugged as usual, Gale's approval status can change to “best friend” (an information given as meta-knowledge, therefore very unlikely to be "a trap set by Gale". For more details read the post about "meta-knowledge").

It's pretty common for manipulative characters (whose trait of manipulation belongs to their personality, not characters who may have circumstantial manipulative actions) to expose their pain too soon with strangers as a tool to force empathy on the listener and "catch" them. Gale does exactly the opposite: he won't open up until having a solid ground where to place his trust. Nobody wants to share their pain in unsafe places, after all.

Helping him with artefacts is deeply appreciated by him and a great boost of his approval for obvious reasons: people tend to place their trust on persons who helped them in their most desperate situations or in their survival. It has to do with the unique connection that often happens between survivors of extreme situations (war-like) who helped each other in surviving. The shared link is deep. One could expect this link to be built with any of Tav's companions since the Tadpole experience is traumatising and extreme. I think this has higher chances of happening with neutral and good aligned companions, since evil ones may have little scruples to not honour the trust received.

Gale could have avoided Tav's questions and mistrust for this secrecy by just lying. However, Gale opts for an explicit enunciation of his limits and boundaries. And Tav is completely free to agree or not since Gale won't abandon the party if not. We know that, in that case, he will try to find another solution that he may find in Raphael's deal. Some players consider this situation of mutual agreement in the terms and conditions that the conversation will happen as a coercive one. What I see is diplomacy and negotiation rather than manipulation.

Gale's need for secrecy is related to two factors:

Survival: He needs to be sure that Tav won't kill him out of fear (which we saw during the scene with Nettie; it's a common procedure in Faerûn: exterminate what's dangerous). Gale's case is even worse because killing him will only activate the devastation he is desperate to avoid: Gale wants to survive but also wants to avoid the massacre that the “orb” can cause.

Personal reasons: Which is the main reason at this point: Gale is unable to speak about the "why" of this condition because it's originated in Mystra's abandonment and the horror of the “orb”: such traumatising experience that turns the Tadpole experience into an inconvenience (this is why his attitude with the tadpole is more relaxed too, he has already passed through a much worse, terrifying situation).

The Loss scene reinforces this concept when we see Gale—usually so verbose and impossible to shut up— can't speak or find the words to say what he lost and why. And only by the end of the scene, if Tav insisted with many checks, he managed to say something. It's worth noting that these checks tend to be strangely low for a character who is struggling with a personal secret. This is usually understood in DM-code as Gale wanting to share this info (setting a lower DC than the average). Gale is not finding the way to do it, and a Tav gently pushing him will do the trick.

It is for this reason I personally think that Gale's secretive attitude is more like a series of obvious clues he purposely leaves in his conversations for Tav to draw their own conclusions before he could finally open up. If all Gale's scenes are triggered (which at this moment is very hard to do with his priority being always the lowest) and Tav pushes him to speak more than he is willing to, the player obtains a decent amount of information to conclude that Mystra and Gale had a deeper relationship, and that the “orb” is something dangerous not only for Gale. To be honest, the death protocol is a gigantic red flag pointing out that Gale's primary condition is not to be taken lightly and “many innocents” can die because of it.

With a neutral or lower approval, Gale will not ask Tav to trust in him. He doesn't trust Tav either, and there is no promise to speak and disclose his condition later. Gale clearly is more mindful and caring with a medium or higher approval Tav who he is starting to see as a good companion/friend, while with a neutral or lower approval Tav he cares little about keeping the contact beyond what diplomacy demands.

It's not by chance that this Stew scene is meant to happen before the Weave scene. From a narrative, contextual point of view, the trust that Tav gave Gale during the Stew scene is afterwards paid with the Weave and the Loss scene. Let's remember that Gale would only ask for that trust if Tav is of medium or higher approval, so the Weave scene comes naturally (when not bugged). The neutral and low approval Tav is never asked for that trust and therefore the Weave scene never happens (if their approval keeps going down). In fact, Gale can leave permanently without any chance of convincing him to stay if he reaches very low approval. What I mean is that, from a narrative point of view, the Weave and the Loss scenes are Gale's way to return that trust that Tav gave him first during the stew scene and the first artefact consumption.

The Weave was not a premeditated scene. It happened by surprise, triggered by Gale's deep loneliness: Tav startled him when he was longing for Mystra while seeing her image in his incantation. He shares in that moment how important and vital magic is in his life, and only then, the previous actions done by Tav encourage him to share this experience. It's important to highlight that this is too personal for Gale, too important, and a bit painful too, since we know later (second dream) that every time he connects with the Weave, he meets with Mystra's disappointment: "What magic I can still weave is met only with undercurrents of disappointing silence."

After a moment of rambling, Gale invites Tav to share this experience. Here is where all the branches about explicitly displaying Tav's romantic interests can be developed; a neutral option for a friendship path, or very aggressive and violent reactions can be picked as well. More details about this scene can be read in the post of "Gale Hypotheses- Part 2", section: "Proposition to Cheat". And again, for a char so guarded of his own privacy and personal issues, sharing the Weave can be clearly seen as the repayment of the trust that Gale received from Tav during the stew scene.

The Loss scene

The Loss is a scene that starts with a mystery about Gale's incapacity to cast a spell. He keeps pushing Tav away, claiming that night to be of personal regrets. Tav knows already that something is dangerous in Gale's consumption of artefacts that can cause a catastrophe, so in this scene some links can be made between the two conditions.

If Tav gently pushes Gale to speak, we will notice that most DCs are rather low, meaning that Gale is not putting a strong resistance for the pushing: a friendly Tav pushing him can be interpreted as Gale wanting extra help to open up and speak (in the end he approves the caring despite his reserved persona). Gale gives many hints in this scene that suggest he was a Chosen of Mystra. The most relevant one is the Silver Fire reference. For more details about the Chosen's powers read the post about "Mystra and her Chosen ones".

We also see a reinforcement of Gale's pattern behaviour: He prefers to speak in this poetic way when he has to talk about painful topics (we see it after killing the druids that triggers “the barren oak” scene or during the goblin party scene). Talking in third person puts distance, but also the embellishment of his narration makes it easier for him to speak, after all he is a poet/storyteller as well.

What's clear is that the verbose companion, who always has a lot to talk about, is basically speechless in this scene, stuck in his "loss" (literally, metaphorically, and psychologically speaking). Part of this behaviour can be understood a bit more in the post about "Gale Hypotheses- Part 1", section: "Grooming". Besides being a private person, Gale also has a perspective that talking about things that can't be changed is useless. He is so stuck in the loss, that talking about it means nothing to him, "the outcome" is always the same.

After pushing Gale to share his burden, the presence of Mystra in Gale's life is undeniable for Tav. Gale sounds like a strong devotee that somehow lost Mystra. We know in this short description that he “did something” to impress his Goddess and earn her favour back, and in doing it, he failed, invoking death upon him. If Tav is sharp enough, knowing that Gale's consumption of artefacts is related to a “catastrophe” and a certain death of himself... maybe they can start connecting some dots and suspect that Gale's primary condition may be related to the loss of Mystra. My point is, even Tav has been informed quite a lot about Gale's “truth”. As we can see, the “Revelation” scene should not be such a shocking “revelation” as it was written, but more a “detailed description” of the situation.

The context seems clear so far: Gale knows he hides the details of his condition (which are not so hidden anymore), and knows that it's information that can cause a second abandonment (whether as a friend or a lover). Gale is at this point in his life very tired and lonely of struggling with the “orb” inside him too. He could use some emotional support, and this is why I believe he has less tough DCs that one should expect from a character who is actively holding information he doesn't want to share. We need to remember that Gale lives in a permanent anxiety mind-state, too focused on Artefacts and the disaster he can cause, increased with the dreadful, hungry feelings that the “orb” inspires with each passing day. He is getting fond of Tav at this point, and their abandonment would mean too much, even though he knows that he may deserve it.

We know that Mystra abandoned him, but did not ban him from using the Weave. I personally speculate that maybe Gale's point of view of the situation of the “orb” and the following abandonment of Mystra is partial: Mystra may have abandoned him not on purpose but as a consequence of having that Weave-sucking power in his chest. As it was explained in the post of "Mystra and her Chosen ones", Chosen ones have a deeper connection with her, and they are able to use raw magic in the form of Silver Fire. This means that Chosen are part of Mystra herself (in Dead Masks, it's stated that Mystra leaves a bit of her own divinity in each of her Chosen), so Chosen ones are also part of the Weave, always connected to Mystra who is the Weave. If the “orb” inside Gale consumes Weave, and we all know that Weave IS Mystra, it's not too far to conclude that Mystra may have abandoned him as a safety measure since, if Gale remained as Chosen, his contact with her would be deeper and would expose her to the “orb”, destroying her eventually. But this, again, it's a mere personal speculation.

The party scene

Gale has finally reached a degree of trust in Tav that gives him enough courage to finally speak about the details of the "orb" (and I emphasise details because in broad aspects, he already shared what's most important: the “orb” in his chest is a dangerous thing. If Tav assisted in his death protocol, this is undeniable by now, unless Tav did not pushed him and respected his privacy).

If he is romanced, he promises much more: confessions in the art of conversation, pleasures in the art of the body, and, hopefully, acceptance. For Gale, acceptance is a big deal: I personally believe he shows a fair level of naivety on this matter. It seems (especially later, with his arguments in the morning) he thought he needed this level of intimacy to reach acceptance first (a process that this book guarantees to happen), so he could speak openly. He wants to have this night before any confession because he wants to acquire acceptance which, in his mind, would prevent the abandonment he viscerally fears.

Gale is so eager to spend the night with Tav first and confess later that the only way of not doing it is not romancing him at all or telling him that Tav is not in the mood. It's not clear in EA if this ends the romance; I think it doesn't since the disapproval is not big (there is no change in the approval status).

Gale wants to be with Tav intimately so badly that he doesn't mind Tav having casual sex with other companions first as long as the "commitment" part would be established with him. This is reinforced by the fact that, if Tav never shared the Weave with Gale, there is no way to sleep with him: Gale is not a character for one-stand nights. He craves for deep connection, for commitment, in whatever fashion he can get it. Mystra taught him not to ask about exclusivity after all, and because of the ephemeral nature of his relationship with her, he craves for something meaningful and more committed.

Mystra was his first love. After her abandonment, he made the mistake of the “orb” that dragged all his energy into studying Netherese magic and possible solutions. I consider it fair to think that maybe Gale never had a relationship beyond the Goddess, and all what he learnt about romantic relationships was through books like the one he mentions or, as a poet, through novels or romantic poetry. He must have an idealisation of love (also proper of a poet) that made him believe that through sex “intimacy” there is a guarantee of acceptance.

His pattern, in my opinion, says that he tends to make mistakes in his emotional state, which is mostly triggered by the “orb” and the potential of “abandonment”. Not so much with Mystra herself. He seems to be nostalgic, but more aware of what loving a God causes (his regret is explicit during the conversation about Karsus). He seems to be quite done with "her romantic love", but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to be forgiven nor he doesn't love her as the essence of Magic itself. More details in the post of "Mystra and her Chosen ones".

Some players see the “Revelation” scene as manipulative. Although that's personal interpretation, if we analyse the kind of information withheld by Gale we found little new: the dangerous nature of the “orb” had been indirectly disclosed in all the previous scenes. Tav being surprised about the “orb” seems strange. And Gale sleeping with Mystra has little relevance: in a game for adults, why are past partners such a big deal? The scene is so confusingly written to make it sound as if Gale is still in love with Mystra, but previous scenes showed he has been working on getting over it. Despite loving Mystra as the embodiment of Magic herself, Gale showed to be very aware that all that love belonged to the past (second dream), to a younger self, and even though he is not certain if he loves her still, he is clear that nothing good comes from relationships between mortals and gods (comments on Karsus). He is very explicit about desiring her forgiveness (second dream). So, there is little withholding information at this point for a Tav who pushed him to speak. Now, Gale's attitude certainly has been tactless. Not the best decision to disclose a past lover with such a degree of fascination just after sharing a night with Tav. But it's understandable since in order to “disclose” the “orb”, Gale needed to provide the context of his young love for the Goddess.

The whole scene of the Revelation seems very, very unpolished, mixing tones and confusing information that was given before and presenting it as if it were a revelation when it's not the case. It jumps from one drama concept to another, and never sticks to one, and Tav's options tend to be extreme: or the player calls this disclosure a “great betrayal”, or makes it seem as if nothing has happened, giving little options of what Tav already knows, or if they want to show a moderate annoyance since most of the information has been disclosed already, but still Gale's timing is annoying. Part of this can also be written on purpose to show what a disaster Gale is when it comes to the potential of “another abandonment” in his life. Hard to tell in EA.

Tav's romantic options react as if Gale confessed to have cheated on them, while what he explains has a different degree of conflict: he confesses he is not sure he still loves Mystra, but his lines in previous scenes show he wants to get over it, without losing his magic/relationship with Mystra, because magic is too important in Gale's life. At times, Tav's options are meant for them to react with jealousy, other times as if this were a big betrayal, or as if Gale's romantic past should have been disclosed before the night, and in the last part of the scene, Larian remembered that the “orb” could be considered a conflict too, so Tav has some occasional options to react to the “orb” as if it were a big revelation (when it's not, because we had 3 scenes, four if we include the death protocol, stating its dangerous nature). So, I personally understand why every person has a completely radical interpretation of the situation: it has been written in a rush, and I see it as very inconsistent in tone and context. This all makes sense when one remembers Kevin VanOrd stream where he explained that Gale was meant to be in the second wave of companions, and not in EA. Gale's writing was rushed and it shows in the last of his scenes and his meeting scene.

Some people may argue that talking about a previous lover right after sharing the first night is, at the least, a very bad taste. However, the player (not Tav) can understand the reason behind it: Gale started the story in order to explain in detail the "why" that has been left up in the air since the stew scene. That "why" can only be explained if Gale discloses Mystra's relationship as the origin of his mistake. So... on one hand, this disclosure right after the shared night is unfortunate for Tav (especially by picking the long version of the explanation in which Gale shares too much unnecessary detail). On the other hand, if he omits this relationship, it's harder to explain the context of why he got the “orb” in his chest.

In general I think this scene has been handled poorly. The whole “conflict” portrayed here implies two aspects: He slept with Mystra, and he has an explosive “orb” in his chest. Neither of them are truly big arguments for the drama degree that this scene seemed to have been written because we already know, to a certain degree, about them.

The “orb” is not truly “such a revelation” at this point. The stew scene alone gave Tav and the player a clear idea that something in Gale could cause a catastrophe without consuming artefacts. After the death protocol that certainty is clearer. So, these “revelations” are more like “extra details” of problems we already know about. Which is what he exactly says when introducing this scene: “Those are but the broad strokes. The time has come to paint you the true picture”.

Having past lovers seems also a strange concept for a “betrayal”. Adults carry pasts. It's true that maybe speaking of a past lover in the same moment he awoke with a recent one is in a pretty bad taste; it's a bit more understandable when you finish the scene: the origin of the “orb” problem was Gale's love for Mystra, so it makes sense to start from her. However, I see the conflict of the conversation switching constantly in three directions: the fact that Gale had a lover that didn’t talk about the previous day, that “Gale is still in love with Mystra”, and that he has an “orb” that Tav “never” knew about it. A very inconsistent conversation.

It's true that Mystra is not a standard lover—she is a goddess—but she is quite known to have these affairs (at least for the player), especially during her past when her direct contact with any human was not banned. It should be more surprising that Mystra seemed to have broken that ban for Gale's case (since she only kept in direct contact with her chosen ones: Ao's decree). And it's also clear the scene tries to show that Gale is still “in love” with her, which is very confusing with what he spoke during the Loss and mainly, during the second dream. Again, I personally feel the scenes of the party and the romance are a mess from a cohesive narrative point of view, and they are the result, alongside Gale's first meeting, of his rushed introduction into EA.

This post was written in June 2021. → For more Gale: Analysis Series Index

#bg3 meta #bg3 gale #gale #gale of waterdeep #bg3

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spaceskam · 3 years

Text

for @maltrie21 who asked for 21 for tarlos

tags: high school au, underage drinking

21. close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams [ao3]

Carlos was wasted.

TK laughed and kept him steady as he led him out the front door of the party and very slowly to his car. Carlos stumbled and giggled and made sure to tell TK he was pretty at least twice one the walk there. For Carlos’ sake, TK would keep all that to himself, though he would enjoy every moment of it.

“Hold on,” TK said, holding him by the belt loop as he opened the passenger side door and carefully pushed his head down so he wouldn’t hit it as he climbed in. He took a breather once Carlos was safely in the seat.

For all intents and purposes, TK was still the new kid. He’d only been in Austin for two months and he still had yet to make friends. Not for lack of anyone trying, but he had made sure to make a bad impression. He was stubborn and a little annoying and loud.

But then there was Carlos.

He was quite sure Carlos hated his guts at one point. He was loud and brash and Carlos was quiet and smart‒there was an obvious clash of personalities there. But TK couldn’t let it go, couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t stop wanting him to just look at him. It was so stupid but TK had seen him smile once and that was it for him.

Carlos had been a bit tougher to crack.

After a solid month of slowly pestering him in any way he knew how to just get him to pay attention, TK actually got him to be his partner for a stupid science project. Something about studying mold on different types of bread. TK very pointedly offered to write the essay so Carlos would lean over his shoulder when he typed.

That has made it grow from a little casual infatuation into a full blown crush. He liked the way Carlos smiled, the way he was driven, the way he had ambitions, the way he laughed, the way he looked at TK like he hated him and yet couldn’t look away all at once. It was intoxicating and TK hardly knew what to do with himself.

After their project was done, TK needed an excuse to hang out with him again and it just so happened to be the weekend of some party who talked to TK during math occasionally. He’d invited Carlos and he’d said yes and it sounded like a good idea. That being said, Carlos had very clearly not enjoyed the experience. Well, he hadn’t enjoyed it up to the point he got his hand on alcohol so that he could enjoy it. Carlos had the unforeseen consequence of being a total fucking lightweight, however, and now TK was thankful he hadn’t drank too much.

“TK,” Carlos said as he climbed into the driver’s side.

“Yes, your highness?” TK teased. Carlos smiled that pretty smile, the one that made it impossible to believe that the guy didn’t have a billion guys and girls alike fawning over him. How did they not swoon in the hallways?

“Are you taking me home now?” he asked.

“Yeah, that was the plan.”

“Can we… not take me home?” Carlos wondered. TK’s eyebrows pulled together and he couldn’t help but smile at this very, very light mischievous streak.

“Depends. Where would you like to go?” TK wondered, leaning into the center console. Carlos was already leaning in and it brought them nearly nose to nose. It was much closer than when he’d looked over his shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Carlos said, “Somewhere not home. I wanna hang out with you.”

“We’ve hung out all night, you’re not tired?” TK laughed. Truly, he would’ve loved to hang out with him longer. However, it did objectively sound like a bad idea while he was drunk. He should just take him home.

“Nooo, I’m definitely not tired, I’m fine,” Carlos insisted. TK huffed a laugh and scanned his eyes over him. He was gorgeous. It was extremely unfair.

“Okay. I know a place.”

“Cool. Let’s go.”

TK didn’t actually know a definitive place, but he figured if he drove around long enough, Carlos would start to tire out and want to go home. As much as he wanted to be around him he didn’t feel like pushing too many boundaries by being too close while he was drunk. He still wasn’t entirely sure on how Carlos felt about him. As much as he wanted it to be a romantic thing, he wasn’t sure yet.

“TK, can you drive with one hand?” Carlos asked. TK peaked over at him, smiling softly. He was so ridiculously adorable.

“Yeah. Why? You want my hand for something?” TK wondered, teasing just enough to get out a soft hum of amusement. He heard Carlos shifting and that was when he decided maybe he should park. You know, just to see how cute he looked.

“Maybe,” Carlos said, “Can I see it?”

“Yeah, just be careful. Don’t want it flying out the window or anything, you’ll have to be the one to go and find it,” TK said, holding out his right hand. He didn’t have to be looking at him to know he rolled his eyes.

“You’re so…” Carlos said, trailing off as he slowly traced over TK’s fingers. He slotted his fingers in with his after a moment. TK took a deep breath and tried to have completely normal feelings about that.

His new persona at school was that he was a bad boy. That was the goal he set when he moved here, that’s who he decided he was going to be. Bad boys don’t get flustered when someone holds their hand.

But Carlos’ hand was so warm.

“I’m so what?” TK asked.

Carlos took a deep breath. “You’re so much. ”

And that was very much not what TK wanted to hear. Still, he managed not to pull his hand away and waited for some sort of elaboration.

“You just come to my school and mess everything up. I’m not supposed to date anyone until I graduate. That’s the plan. That’s seven months away. But, here you are, loud and cute and flirtatious and,” Carlos paused, circling his fingertips around TK’s knuckles, “And I kinda wanna risk it all.”

“Would it really be a risk?” TK asked, keeping his voice slow and controlled. He never wanted to be the reason anyone felt the need to go out of their comfort zone. He didn’t want to actually mess anything up for him.

“No. Maybe. I don’t know,” Carlos said, “I don’t know. I’m hoping it won't be, but I don’t know.”

“I mean, you don’t have to come out to anyone really. I’m interested in you regardless and it’s no one’s business what we do,” TK said, admitting it out loud because apparently they were talking about that.

He pulled into the parking lot of a playground, parking his car and looking at Carlos. He was looking at the moon.

“You’re interested in me?” Carlos asked, slowly looking at him. His eyes were tired and unfocused and they really should be having this conversation when he was sober.

“I’m very, very interested in you,” TK smiled, reaching out with his free hand to poke his cheek. Carlos rolled his eyes but his smile took over his face. It was such a good smile. “What’s not to like?”

“A lot, probably. You’re cool,” Carlos said, pouting slightly. TK was absolutely endeared.

“I’m really not that cool,” he insisted. Carlos scrunched up his nose and shook his head.

“I don’t even care about coming out, I just need to focus on school. I-I need to go to college and do things. Important things,” Carlos said, insistent and vague and fumbling a little over his words. TK took a deep breath.

“What if… we talked about this when you’re not drunk?” TK suggested.

“I’m not drunk!”

“Mhm, okay.”

“Ugh,” Carlos sighed, sinking into his seat and looking back towards the moon. He was pouting and adorable and TK was infatuated even more. “Okay, fine, we’ll talk when you’re not drunk.”

TK laughed, “I’m not drunk.”

“That’s what they all say,” Carlos insisted. TK grinned so wide it almost hurt and he wanted to kiss him more than he had anyone probably ever. But he was drunk and that wasn’t how he wanted his first kiss with him to go. He wanted sparks and he wanted Carlos to remember.

“Let’s take you home, okay?”

“Okay.”

TK let him keep his hand as he backed up and headed towards the exit. He was more than a little excited about this whole thing and he most likely wasn’t going to get any sleep, but that was fine. Carlos liked him. Liked him enough to want to break the dumb rules he set for himself.

The ride to Carlos’ house was short, but he stopped on the way to get him some water and urged him to drink it before he went inside. TK still got out and helped him to the door just in case.

“Are your parents going to be pissed?” TK asked. Carlos took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes with his fists because he was adorable like that.

“I think it’ll be okay. They should be asleep,” Carlos said, “And maybe they’ll be happy that I actually did something for once.”’

“Okay,” TK laughed, still keeping his hand on his waist to steady him as Carlos reached into his pocket for his keys. He moved slow to keep his hand steady, though he still missed the lock about five times before he actually got it. “Are you gonna be able to make it to your room?”

“Yeah. Thank you,” Carlos said, twisting the doorknob

“Thank you for coming out with me.”

Carlos smiled sweetly at him before leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.

“I wanted to. Goodnight, TK.”

“Goodnight.”

TK stood on the front porch for a long time just smiling dumbstruck before he was able to convince himself to go to his car.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #911 lone star #911ls #my fic #title tuesday

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keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: Gentle Sins ch.3 (BAON)

Summary: Edge is heading back into work, but since when do his days ever go smoothly?

Tags: Spicyhoney, kustard, Established Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Aftermath of Kidnapping

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was entirely too soon for him to be returning to work by Edge’s measure. Two days off after a kidnapping was a paltry concession and he would have preferred at least working from home for the rest of the week. The Embassy wasn’t particularly far from New New Home, but depending on traffic and stoplights, it could take nearly half an hour to drive between them, not including the time it took to get to his car.

Time enough for so many things to go wrong and for Stretch to be alone when it did.

But despite his preference, two mornings after he’d brought Stretch home, Edge was pulling into the Embassy parking lot and ignoring the shouts of the protestors on the other side of the street as he walked in, though he didn’t extend his cane until he was inside the front entrance.

The issue at hand was not with his employment. Stretch was the one all but pushing him out their front door and he’d done so with a massive spew of words coupled with wild gestures, all of which boiled down to him not needing a babysitter while he was at home.

Edge didn’t have the soul to argue with him about it, particularly since he was right. There were already enough new violations of his boundaries, and past experience taught that he would start to chafe under them soon enough. Perhaps it was already beginning; exhausted as he was, he’d still slept restlessly the night before and while Stretch often tossed and turned, this time it was enough to disturb Edge’s own sleep, his subconscious crying out that this was not a familiar level of thrashing.

He’d still been in bed when Edge left though not asleep, muttering something about heading down to his lab to check on his experiments. Edge hoped that he did; if he could get absorbed in his own version of mad science, it would be a good distraction for the day, one that was very much needed. Red was supposed to stop by at some point about the bodyguard assignment and while Edge asked his brother to wait for him to get home, there was no telling if he would. If he deemed Edge’s presence unnecessary, Red would do as he liked and to hell with waiting for his brother.

With that in mind, Edge’s plan was to work as swiftly as he could today without sacrificing accuracy so that he could leave on time, perhaps even early, in an effort to thwart anything Red might attempt for his own amusements. But as so often happened, plans had a way of changing and in very unexpected ways.

When he’d arrived at the Embassy that morning, he’d been hyperaware of the stares that followed behind him from the moment he came through the door. From the security guard at his station to the interns to the janitors, eyes and whispers lingered in his wake. Whatever hopes he’d had for discretion about the kidnapping incident were quickly dismissed; it was obviously the talk of the office though no one was bold enough to confront him about it directly. As Red often said, ‘the only way to keep a secret is if ya kill the guy who told ya’ and considering how many witnesses were at the bar that night when Stretch and Jeff were taken, that option was not exactly feasible, if it ever was.

The local news was plastered with stories, some sticking with the one provided by the Embassy and others filled with wild speculations. Monsters were hardly immune to gossip and Stretch often featured on both sides of the rumor equation.

As for his usual partner in crime, Jeff was taking the week off and Antwan with him, and while Edge could appreciate the urge to get back to some form of normalcy, he couldn’t help a twinge of jealousy to think the two of them were probably curled in bed together sleeping while he was fending off the glares of his co-workers.

He deliberately kept his limping pace normal on his way to his office, refusing to give the gossip any further fuel. That worked well enough until he went inside. Janice was already at her desk and she looked up when he entered, her long ears swiveling in his direction and her pink nose twitching as she gave him a narrow look.

He wondered if she was disappointed in him for coming in today. The thought made him want to look away from her direct gaze and he forced himself not to, saying crisply, “Good morning.”

But perhaps he was only projecting his own troubled thoughts because Janice only replied with a certain gentle concern, “Good morning. How is Stretch doing?”

Yes, the gossip traveled quickly, indeed. Edge hesitated, then said with cautious honesty, “He’s doing better.”

She nodded and didn’t press. Absently, she reached out to straighten the picture frame on her desk of her two children. Edge understood the impulse. “If you need anything, either of you, please do let me know.”

“I will,” Edge said. He meant it. Somehow in the past year their relationship had gone from a strictly working one to something akin to friends, a change that came about right around the time he’d married Stretch. Another way his love had changed his life for the better.

Still, it was a relief for her expression to change in a flash from motherly concern to businesslike briskness. “I’ve already emailed your agenda for the day, nothing particularly robust, but you do have a meeting in an hour with Toriel.”

“Toriel.” Edge blinked in surprise. Technically, Toriel didn’t work for the Embassy in a similar way to Stretch. She acted as Frisk’s guardian, and while she certainly handled things she likely shouldn’t at her own discretion, they were the diplomat, not her. What could she want to discuss that she couldn’t have come to their home?

He set his laptop case down and dug out his phone, opening the email app and scrolled to his daily agenda to scan the list. The schedule said only, ‘Meeting with Toriel, 10am’ and gave no clues. “Did she happen to say what it was about?”

Janice shook her head. “I’m afraid not, she only contacted and asked for an appointment. I couldn’t think of a reason not to, so I gave her the first available timeslot.” Her voice uplifted at the end, turning the statement into a question.

“Of course you should,” Edge said, belatedly, “I’m perfectly willing to talk with her. I’m simply confused as to why.”

Janice offered him a faint smile and raised eyebrows. “I suppose in an hour you’ll find out.”

“I suppose I will,” Edge sighed. He picked up his laptop and headed into his office, already considering whether to brave the gauntlet again for a cup of coffee or to relinquish is pride and ask Janice to retrieve one. He wasn’t particularly in the mood for any surprises and a meeting with the former Queen would likely offer them, in spades.

~~*~~

If there was one thing to appreciate about meeting with Toriel, it was her promptness. At precisely 9:59 am Janice buzzed him that she’d arrived.

Edge took a moment to drain the last of the lukewarm coffee from his cup, brought to him by Janice without any prompting from him, further proof of what an excellent assistant she was. He saved the document he was working on before he replied, “Send her in.”

He’d hardly finished speaking when his door opened, Toriel’s bulk filling the entryway. She had to duck her head to fit through the entrance, barely missing bumping her horns on the trim.

“Please, come in,” Edge said. He ignored his cane where it leaned against the side of his chair and instead walked cautiously as he came around it. He gestured to the sofa rather than the chairs at his desk; Toriel was not a small Monster, but his office was designed for visits with everyone, up to and including Asgore himself.

“Thank you,” Toriel said. Her voice was soft enough that it seemed one should strain to hear it, and yet it still carried clearly through the room. She seated herself where he’d indicated, folding her lightly furred hands into her lap.

Edge hadn’t spent a great deal of time with Toriel outside of Embassy functions and the few times he’d traveled along with the diplomats. Even then, he’d kept a cautious distance from her. Despite the small glasses perched on her muzzle, her soft purple dress and motherly cardigan she wore, as a Boss Monster, there was a certain aura of power that she carried that no casual outfit could stifle. Her status might be simply as Frisk’s guardian, but even Humans couldn’t fail to notice it. Adding in that Edge had no basis of comparison with her counterpart in Underfell, put simply, she made him faintly uncomfortable, despite the common interest in puns she shared with several members of his family.

“Would you like a drink?” He barely caught himself before asking if she’d care for tea, already knowing the answer to that. She and Stretch should be closer friends, they could bond over their mutual dislike of the King. “Water? Fruit juice?”

“Water would be lovely,” Toriel said. The words were merely polite, he sincerely doubted she’d come here for refreshments.

From the small fridge in the corner, he retrieved a bottle of water. He set it on a coaster rather than hand it to her and took the seat across from her, folding his hands into his lap in an unconscious mirror of hers. “What can I do for you?” Edge asked.

Without preamble, Toriel said, “You saved my child’s life, and mine.”

That was far from any topic he’d expected she wanted to discuss. If anything, he’d supposed she might wish for more personal information regarding the kidnapping and rather than trusting the gossips, she’d gone to a reliable source. That she might want to talk about their last meeting hadn’t even occurred to him.

The incident in California was not so long ago and yet, despite his lingering scars, the event itself had mostly left his mind. Yes, it was traumatic and yes, he’d certainly be feeling the aftereffects for some time. But it wasn’t his way to linger over such things; it happened, it was over, and now there was only to move onto introducing new safeguards to keep such a thing from happening again.

He considered Toriel’s statement with care before offering cautiously, “Anything I could do to keep you and your child safe, I was willing to offer.”

“I’m sure you were, and are.” Toriel’s eyes were a shade of red unlike his own eye lights. In a way, they were more like Red’s and his way of seeing things deeper than should be possible. “And I am willing to offer my own gift for that kindness. I’ve noticed your leg is still troubling you.”

Edge struggled against shifting uncomfortably, forcing himself not to look down at the leg in question. He was wearing the brace today as he always did in the office, not because he thought he particularly needed it, but due to his suspicions that Janice would discreetly tattle to Stretch if he didn’t. It was a tradeoff for leaving their strictly business relationship behind. “It’s healing, it simply takes time.”

“Indeed,” Toriel inclined her head in agreement. “I’d like to help you, if you’ll allow it. It wouldn’t begin to pay my debt to you but—”

“Your Highness,” Edge interrupted gently, “you don’t owe me anything. I’m well aware that you saved my life after the explosion.”

“I’m no longer the Queen, Toriel is fine,” Her interruption was less gentle and for one who claimed no title, her tone made him want to straighten his spine and come to attention, a habit he’d thought gone along with Underfell. “And your life wouldn’t have needed saving if you hadn’t saved mine.”

“Toriel,” Edge said deliberately, “if you’re offering to heal me, I have a doctor, they’ve done as much with healing magic as they can.”

“I’m sure they have. Which is why I’m offering. My skills are somewhat more…” she hesitated, settling on, “Robust, than other Monsters.”

As a Boss Monster, that was surely true, and Edge couldn’t help considering it.

She’d used her magic on him before, and while that was an emergency, he could hardly protest her doing it again. And what she was offering was gift unlike any other. The opportunity to be healed, to be able to return to his normal activities was tempting to be sure, but what irritated more was his brother keeping him at arm’s-length during the kidnapping. If he’d been more capable, if his leg wasn’t slowing him down, would Red have forced him to stay home instead of allowing him to provide some real assistance? There was no way to tell now, but if he could keep it from happening in the future…?

But Edge also knew that things that seemed too good to be true often were and that there was little in life that came without some sort of price attached. He’d gotten such a gift from the Angel already, if one believed in such things, in the love given to him by Stretch. Asking for more seemed greedy.

Toriel only waited serenely, perhaps understanding his inner turmoil.

“There’s no chance this could have a negative effect,” Edge said slowly. “I’ve made a great deal of progress already, I won't have it set back."

“None at all,” Toriel assured him. “I wouldn’t offer if there was even a chance.” She shifted in her seat, briefly looking away as if his bookcases had suddenly caught her interest. “I would have offered sooner but you must understand, this sort of healing is very draining. If it got out I could do this, Monsters would be lining up at my door, begging for treatment.” She shook her head, her mouth pulling downward unhappily, and suddenly she seemed older and weary. “I can only do as much as I can.”

“I understand.” He did. It was the same reason they’d chosen to keep Monsters’ ability to heal from the Humans. There were limits to the care anyone could provide. Still, his immediate impulse to agree warred with his cautious reluctance. “Then why now?”

“Why not now?” Toriel countered. She spread her empty hands in something like a plea. “I can’t heal every Monster, but what point is it for me to have these gifts if I can’t use them to help someone who was injured by helping me? I owe you a debt, Edge, and I mean to pay it.”

The steel in her voice resonated and the determined need to repay a debt was certainly something he could understand. Edge straightened and inclined his head formally, “I accept your offer.”

A smile lit Toriel’s face and that melancholy fell away as she clapped her hands together like a child rather than the powerful, centuries-old Monster that she was. “Wonderful! Let’s get started, then, shall we?”

“Now?” Edge said, surprised. He’d expected her to need to make some preparations, perhaps arrange for a secret meeting someplace out of the way and not well watched. If there was such a place when one considered his brother.

But Toriel only nodded. “Oh, yes. It won’t take long.”

She rose from the sofa and crouched down next to him. A bit nonplussed, he helped her unbuckle the splint and remove it, and as always, there was a slight, uncomfortable twinge with its support gone. Worse was the awkward intimacy in the way she settled her hands on his leg, even over his trousers, her fingers shifting into precise positions as she closed her eyes and summoned her magic.

Edge had been healed before, too many times to count. Rarely in Underfell, healing there was usually scoffed at and often considered a weakness as it was a difficult skill for those with LV. But in this universe, Stretch, Blue, even Toriel herself had healed him in the past, little wounds mostly, except for California.

He hadn’t been in a position to pay attention the last time she’d used her magic on him, drifting in and out of consciousness, but here there was nothing to distract him. Her magical signature was a deft one, not the brusque force of his brother or familiar honeyed languidness of Stretch or even Blue, who managed to somehow be both forceful and nearly timid at the same time. The greenness of healing came at a delicate trickle at first, seeking and finding the places in his leg that still ached with cunning skill, sinking in. In tiny increments, that trickle became a flood, and then a torrent, and the sensation was indescribable. Not pain, that was far too simple a word, but the deep power that carried healing into his leg and further, seeking out his very essence. Edge shied away instinctively as it sought out his soul, trying to escape that implacable, almost ethereal touch, but it didn’t invade or violate, only swirled briefly through his ribcage in a sort of greeting before returning to the task at hand, or rather, at leg, before it slowly withdrew into empty nothingness.

Edge opened his sockets, hardly aware of closing them, to see Toriel closing her own eyes as she wobbled on her feet, sinking back to sit on the floor with her legs tucked under her and her skirt demurely covering them.

“Your Highness,” Edge said in concern. He reached for her automatically, hesitating before touching her. Even though his gloves he could still feel the aura of roused magic surrounding her.

She opened her eyes. “Toriel,” she corrected with a slight smile, waving his hands away. She retrieved the bottle of water from the table, opening it and taking a long drink, then sighed out, “I’m fine. How are you?”

In answer, Edge stood, striding across the room and back again. The lingering weakness and frustrating ache of the past weeks were entirely gone. The urge to tests his limits was strong and he wondered giddily what anyone would make of it if they caught him racing up and down the stairwell with his coattails flapping behind him.

As if reading his thoughts and perhaps she was to some extent, they wouldn’t be difficult to guess, Toriel cautioned, “I suggest you wear the brace for a little longer. It might keep the curious from asking questions.”

Edge was about to agree, then amended it, “I won’t lie to Stretch. If he asks.”

To his surprise, Toriel let out of a peal of soft laughter and shook her head. “I wouldn’t worry about that. He’ll know the moment he sees you.”

That he hadn’t expected and Edge could only stare at her, aghast, “What?

Her smile turned incredulous. "You have my magic clinging to you, do you truly think he won't notice? Papyrus of all people?"

He wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that and he wished he'd known before he agreed. Well, it was too late to change anything now, wasn’t it, and that was a meal he’d have to swallow when it came to the table.

Belatedly, he realized Toriel was attempting to climb up from the floor and he hastily leaned down to help. Her weight was easily triple his own but between the two of them, they managed to get her back on her feet.

“Well!” Toriel said with a soft sigh as she dusted off her dress. “I’ll leave you to your duties, then. I need to get back to Frisk, they have a meeting this afternoon with the Prime Minister of Japan, and I wanted to brush up on the agenda.”

“Yes, of course, your—Toriel,” Edge correctly hastily. He couldn’t help flexing his knee again, still giddy with the pain-free movement of the joint. “Thank you, Toriel. This means a great deal to me, past simply healing.” She’d already turned to the door and paused, turning back to him.

There was a certain familiar impishness to her smile as she said, “If you truly wanted to thank me, you could try calling me Tori.”

In answer, Edge only bowed deeply to her and said, sincerely, “I’m afraid the attempt would be too much for me and might undo all the damage you healed. I would hate to be the cause of ruining all your hard work.”

Her soft laughter washed over him in a gentle wave and she shook her head. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we.” Her amused expression shifted to seriousness, “And Edge? Anything I could do to help you, I was willing to offer.”

Edge inclined his head in wry acknowledgement and with a last smile, she went out the door, leaving him alone in his office. Alone with his leg in perfect working condition and itching to be used.

A jog up the stairs might be out of the question, but there was no reason he couldn’t walk down to get another cup of coffee. With the brace on for now, and by next week? Perhaps he could risk going without, at least in the morning, if the stares died down by then. Time would tell.

He sat down to strap the blasted thing back on, its lack of necessity making it all the more annoying.

Soon, he told himself, soon.

Despite the events of the past few days, Edge felt lighter than he had in weeks. He only hoped Stretch’s reaction would be as pleased as his own.

Once the brace was properly on, Edge retrieved his cup from his desk and went down the hallway to the breakroom to fill it, giving Janice’s curious glance a sedate nod and careful to keep his steps slow and measured so as to not rouse any suspicions.

On the leg brace he would concede, an annoying necessity to be sure. But the cane? That, he left behind.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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soyforramen · 3 years

Text

Sting

Or an update to the urban-fantasy AU:

Betty bit at her nails as she stared at him. It was unnerving, to say the least. Jughead had seen her in many moods, but this was the first time she’d stared at him as if he were a specimen behind glass. He’d been startled when she stormed into his apartment, clearly with a purpose, though the longer they stood there the more that purpose seemed to fail her.

“Take your shirt off,” she said.

Jughead was grateful that she’d missed his shocked expression in favor of digging through her backpack.

“I’ve got a grimoire that should work against Penny. It took some experimenting, but Veronica and I think it will work against demon fire.”

Oh.

Of course Betty would have come up with a solution to that particular problem. And of course her interest in his skin was purely professional. Why should it be anything else?

(Careful, Jug, came a voice that sounded far too much like Veronica for his tastes, otherwise we might think you’d want her to have a more personal interest.)

He sneered at that thought and stripped off his jacket. Betty was a problem solver, and in this case Penny had become a big problem. The demon had been creeping around the cult’s warehouses lately, likely waiting for a time to catch either one of them alone and vulnerable. And when a demon decided to claim a territory, they were keen to keep out anything that might threaten their dominance.

Jughead turned away from Betty as she was pulling out a plastic sheet and stripped off his flannel and undershirt. Even now, dead and starving, his breath hung in the air. He glanced over his shoulder at Betty, still working on the spell, and wondered if he should turn the heater on. But when she stripped off her own jacket and sweater to reveal the scarred, tattooed skin underneath – her runes sharp and stinging to his eyes – he decided against it.

He stared at his bookshelf, his heart pounding as hard as it could after two days without feeding. Jughead put all of his energy into focusing on the overflowing bookshelf rather than the half-naked witch behind him. As he scanned the titles, he realized he’d never been able to track down the last copy of his grandfather’s treatise on how to find and kill witches; now, though, he was immensely grateful that he’d never found it.

“This might sting,” Betty said softly behind him. She placed her hand on his back to steady the stencil, and the electric tingle of her skin reminded him of being alive in all the best ways. Strange, mumbled words hummed in the air around him.

Sharp, stinging pain dug into his very soul and Jughead bit his lip to keep from crying out. Unable to bear it for more than a few seconds, he cursed out and leapt away from her.

“What the hell is that, holy water?”

Betty winced. “And aloe and grimwood. It’s the only thing guaranteed to protect against demon-fire, and after she attacked you last week …”

“And she’s been guarding the cult,” Jughead finished, recognizing why Betty used the equivalent of jalapeno juice in an open wound on him.

She nodded, flushing a pretty crimson color. “And until we know what she’s doing with the cult, this is the best I can do.”

Jughead’s eyes were caught on the flush of her cheeks and how it lit up her face. His stomach growled suddenly and Betty’s eyes went wide. The color on her cheeks deepened and she stepped back, twirling a finger at him.

Dutifully, he turned back around to let her finish. He bit the inside of his own cheek this time and focused on the crack in the wall rather than the pounding of her blood as it ran through her carotid artery at a rate of 5.1 kilos pure, viscous, life-saving liquid a minute, pushing 95% oxygenated blood through her body, rushing it to her cheeks, her neck, her throat, each and every red cell warming up her temperature to the perfect –

“Done.” Betty reached around him and held out the canister and plastic sheet. “My turn now. There should be some open space back there, but be quick about it. The ingredients won’t stay active too much longer.”

When he turned, Jughead found her back towards him. Her lithe, delicate hands held her ponytail away from her skin and he could see the pulse point on her neck jumping. His eyes, inherited from Judas’, no doubt, traced her skin, bronzed from the sun and full of life, to a mostly blank spot between her shoulder blades.

Hesitantly, he placed the cut plastic against her skin. Her whole body shuddered and he drew back.

“Sorry. Cold hands comes with the being dead thing.”

“No, it’s not you –“ Betty cut herself off and the back of her neck flushed.

Jughead fought back against the hunger that sat at the back of his throat and pressed the plastic against her skin. When he pressed down the nozzle, a sickly green liquid that attacked his eyes and nose clung to her skin. Slowly, he ran the liquid across the plastic.

“Now what?”

Betty shook her head and reached towards her sweater. A shiver ran down her back and Jughead traced the air along her spine, careful not to touch her.

“I think that’s it,” she said.

When she turned, Jughead held the canister out to her. (What did she do with them?, he wondered. Recycle? Reuse them for other spells? Throw them out into the city dump to create mutant creatures resistant to both human and underworld threats?)

Betty took it from him, taking great care not to touch, or look at, his skin.

“There’s some still left, if you want another hit to your front,” she offered.

“Will it help?”

She shrugged and took the plastic, turning it over in her hands. “It can’t hurt.”

“Alright.”

Betty placed the sticky, warped plastic against his skin. Her fingers were light and hot against his chest, forcing him to grind down on his back molars and count backwards from a thousand in Welsh.

As the liquid ate away at his skin, Jughead threw his glance towards the ceiling and held his breath as the noxious substance was applied. To keep his mind of the pain and the fumes, he counted all the ways his upstairs neighbor had irritated him in the past two centuries, the most recent of which was finding her nosey way into his brain. The liquid hit a scratch, not fully healed, and he jerked away.

“Sorry, almost done,” Betty said softly, misreading his movement.

She shifted so that her hand covered his heart, stilling the sudden fever in him. In this instant he knew that he’d do anything she asked, regardless of the risk to himself or the rest of the world. It was a dangerous thing, especially when one considered Betty didn’t realize the power it gave her.

The plastic peeled away from his skin, taking with it Betty’s hand. It’s absence left him colder than he’d ever been before, alive or dead.

“The protection should last a week, as long as you don’t wash it off,” she said, refusing to look at him.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Betty told him, her focus on packing up her ingredients.

The sudden cold behavior came as a start, and he slowly drew his own shirt back on. It wasn’t until he walked her to the door it struck him. After all, witches never made it their business to consort with the undead, and it seemed as if she’d finally found her senses when it came to him. Perhaps this was her way of politely setting boundaries. They were finally starting to get somewhere with the cult, and it wouldn’t be much longer that they’d part ways. It was only natural that one of them begin thinking about what happened after. And what it meant when they –

Betty paused at the door, her eyes catching his for the first time since she’d entered.

“I didn’t shiver because of the cold. My runes protect me against that.”

And with that she was gone into the night, leaving him to wonder whether she’d spoken those words at all.

#bughead fanfiction #bughead au

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banhchao · 2 years

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Olivia doesn't want you to "get her out of there" she clearly likes it, you'd be able to tell if you weren't such a damn retard

Okie... first of all when we say “Olivia we’ll get you outta there” we don’t mean away from Taehyung, we mean away from his crazy toxic fans that might send her rude things or say terrible insults about her out of jealousy of her being so close in proximity to him (which ppl have started to see on Twitter already). Kpop stans can get petty and cruel as hell towards women they are jealous of so it was said in a way to defend her from them. Also I’m not gonna be a weirdo and ship them cause she is only 18 and he’s what... 26??? That age gap is 😬😬😬.

Second of all, I’m assuming you are referring to these tags:

When I say “yes I know he’s from BTS still” I’m not saying he’s not Asian (I’m fully aware he is... I’m quite literally ASIAN) i say that as a disclaimer as I’m aware some of my followers don’t like BTS and maybe wouldn’t care to see him. So it’s like “I know he’s from BTS and you guys don’t wanna see him but he still provides asian rep”. I personally have no beef with Taehyung and said NOTHING negative in the tags; I thought the interaction was cute and I like seeing Asian artists from the west and east interacting as it really shows the diverse set of asian rep we get to see in the media. A Korean singer from the homeland and a half-Filipina singer from America - it’s a fun interaction to see. That’s ALL I said. Like girl... you are reaching so hard it’s like you WANT me to hate him. Also fuck off??? This is my blog; I didn’t invite you here!!! You barged in, unwanted!!!

Hello iamxueyang (yes I am finally dropping your URL because I know it’s you; you are the only racist and transphobic white girl to constantly drop into my inbox and harass and insult me despite how many times I’ve blocked your anons), you have been nothing but hostile, volatile and rude to me despite me having done NOTHING to you. You have been extremely racist and misogynistic to me, you have treated me like shit and your personal punching bag when I don’t agree with you (despite it being YOU visiting my blog and getting yourself riled up and despite ME having blocked you), you have lied to me to try to prove your points (even going as so far to racefake) and you continue to harass me despite my boundaries having been clearly set that I have no interest interacting with someone racist, transphobic and quite frankly... fucking mean. you called me the r-slur over what... you thinking I was insulting some kpop boy? and insinuating I’m dirty and disgusting and jealous and bitter of what??? Of who??? cause I’m SE Asian and not E Asian? Cause I’m presumably ugly and unloved??? Idk where you find the gall to run ur mouth to strangers on the internet like this just because they don’t agree with you or like the same things you do, despite you not knowing a single THING or EXPERIENCE about me but it’s fucking disgusting and horrible. And the fact you have been harassing me for so long knowing fully well you don’t even LIKE me. It’s as if you thrive off being mean to random people you don’t even know (no this is not a brave and badass move like you may think it is, this is harassment).

I have tried to be nice to you iamxueyang despite having to deal with your racism and misogyny. I have tried to understand you. I know you are young and learning so I tried all I could to answer your questions and be civil. I never even explicitly revealed your URL until now cause i didn’t want ppl coming after you for all of the shitty things you say to me cause again I know you are young. But this time, you have gone too far. You constantly hit me with nothing but these rude and mocking insults and comments, with racism, misogyny, invalidation and treat me like an evil villain. For what?! Am I even a human to you? Do I not have feelings, experiences and emotions? Am I just a worthless, faceless being?!

I don’t know what you want to achieve being a bully to strangers on the internet on behalf of a bunch of asian men you fetishize, iamxueyang but you need to stop harassing strangers, respect boundaries and ... stop being so racist, misogynistic and transphobic?!? LIKE?!?! Idk why your bio says “uwu racists fuck off i don’t like you” when you have been NOTHING but horribly racist and cruel to me! Like ma’am you gotta get that out of your bio cause you are NO ALLY if you are racist to asian women and fetishize asian men! your young age DOES NOT mean you can harass random strangers on the internet nor be a racist, transphobe or misogynist!!! I feel terribly sorry for the other ppl you have probably harassed to death here and maybe even in real life with your bigotry and cruelty!!! if you refuse to respect the boundaries of others (and their human rights for that matter) you need to get off the internet!!! AND LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!! like I rlly don’t understand why you are so obsessed with this blog and yet only view my posts with malicious intent? I hope to GOD you don’t treat ppl irl like this; they deserve so much better than to be poorly treated as I was by you. You cannot have healthy relationships if you constantly refuse to respect people.

I am incredibly tired and frustrated of having to deal with you constantly despite it being clear I want nothing to do with you but even now, I can’t express myself fully because I KNOW you will somehow twist this into me being the “oversensitive, angry, unreasonable, jealous and bitter WOC” if I do.

To my followers, I implore that you do not interact with this user and just block them. Don’t send hate messages of any sort; I don’t condone any sort of hate sent on my behalf and I condemn violent threats of any sort. I have no interest stooping so low to some random teen girl that doesn’t see me as human. And truth be told, I have no desire for this to escalate any further. Also, this person has an extremely strong victim complex and will twist the narrative to make themselves be the victim; please do not give them any sort of ammo. For your mental health and safety, please block and report even. I don’t wish any of you to have to deal with this sorta harassment; you are all far too precious.

#do not reblog #I had to softblock my sister and friend so they wouldn’t see this... c’mon now #r slur tw

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hawkland · 3 years

Text

Destiel fic recs #3 - the (mostly) longfic edition!

It’s been a while since my last rec post - mostly because I’ve been wallowing in a number of longer fics (50-350k!) so it’s taken me a while to have enough to talk about in one post (and boy do I talk a lot, here!)

With these longer fics, I do sometimes have some caveats with my recs - or at least reasons why they might not appeal to every Dean/Cas reader. But note that if I didn’t overall strongly recommend reading the fic I wouldn’t include it in my recs here at all, so any quibbles I bring up are minor compared to my overall enjoyment of the stories. Just, I don’t want someone to commit to a long read without knowing what they’re getting into and why it might not be their thing.

I’m still not into reading complete setting AUs at this time, but a lot/most of these are canon-divergence AUs, often written/set at the end of a season and giving an alternative take on what happened next. I love those kind of stories, as it’s often so interesting to see how fans thought of what might happen in the next season (especially when it’s better than what we actually got.)

Onto the recs & discussion behind the cut!

The Sinking Ship by UnfortunatelyObsessed (114k). This is a story that ripped my heart to pieces (in a good way!). I stayed up all night to finish reading because I simply couldn’t stop once I started on it and it gave me a massive fic hanger from all my emotions. Season 14 divergence, imagine if Dean did go into the Ma’lak box to trap Michael under the ocean with him forever...and once there, he discovers that Cas has stowed away with him. Because of course Cas would never leave Dean to such a fate on his own.

I loved literally. Every. Damn. Thing. About this fic. Cas telling Dean stories to pass the (endless) time. Their small intimate moments while realizing they can never consummate physically while trapped in the box but finding every other way to express their love. The absolute heartbreak that had me SOBBING when Michael fights for control of Dean and destroys everything they’ve built together and Cas thinks he’s lost Dean forever. Sam & Gabriel & Rowena & Claire & Jack doing everything they can to devise a plan back home to try to save them both while keeping Michael trapped. Also even just the wonderfully sensitive portrayal of aroace Jack still closely bonded with Claire and Maggie and just. And just. This is a story I’ve already re-read just to savor how much I loved it and its portrayal of everyone in TFW 2.0 and their extended family, it just hit my id in all the most incredible ways and I have nothing but absolute love for this one.

Beautiful Chaos by anyrei, mugglerock (141k). Season 9 canon-divergence, in which Dean doesn’t simply abandon Cas to fend for himself post 09x03. Instead he sets Cas up in a kind of squatter’s nest in an abandoned building near the bunker so he can keep tabs on him and help him out.

This fic definitely gets the award for FILTHIEST, HOTTEST, SMUTTIEST Dean/Cas (and Cas/other) I’ve read in, like, ever, for human!Cas turns out to be a rather insatiable sex fiend/cock slut and Dean is too up his own repressed ass to easily give Cas what he wants/needs. It is dark at times, Cas ends up in some very unsavory/non-con situations, and the authors do mention that they tried to hone in on endverse!Cas’s characterization more than what we saw in Season 9...so you might roll with it, you might not. I adored their original character Jerry the tattoo artist in this, and like I said it was seriously hot (if you are good with total bottom!Cas and Cas with others, I know those are not everyone’s cuppa). I did have a few minor issues. For one, the last chapter felt a bit rushed and hand-wavey, but clearly the authors weren’t fond of the canon conflicts of season 9 & 10 (Abbadon, Mark of Cain) and just wanted to be done with them. Can’t say I really blame them. And I did have to laugh a bit at Lebanon, Kansas apparently having such a bustling gay bar/tattoo artist/etc scene being someone from a butt-fuck nowhere American small town myself. But, SPN was never all that realistic in how Lebanon was shown (and yes I’ve spent too much time roaming around it on Google maps), so if you can suspend some disbelief this is an awesome hot/angsty/occasionally heartbreaking read.

These Forsaken Lands by destielpasta (53k). I came upon this story when looking for fics that dealt in some way with the aftermath of Godstiel. This is a wonderfully atmospheric late Season 9 “fill-in” case fic (post Meta-fiction) where Cas ends up in a small town that had been visited by Godstiel...and while initially residents have reaped much good fortune, there has suddenly been a wave of deaths/bad events and he is determined to find out what happened and set things right. He calls upon Dean for help, but Dean is fighting the Mark of Cain and it’s going to take a lot to get past its control and find a way out for both of them. Together they work on repairing an old church while trying to repair each other and their damaged relationship.

I loved this story for how well written it was, really invoking a gothic small-town/Americana atmosphere. The original characters blend in very well with the case-fic at the center of it, and the author deals really well with Cas at a very fragile point when he’s running on borrowed grace and trying to navigate Dean’s MoC-enhanced anger. It’s Dean/Cas but actually much more of a Cas character study, so I highly recommend it to my fellow/compatriot Cas-girls who love a good wallow in his head.

Mixed Emotions by Tierra469 (50k). Canon 12 “parallel” fic that then goes canon-divergent with the season finale. I actually stumbled on this while in the mood to read some Cas/ or & Mary fic after enjoying their interactions in Season 12 (don’t hate me). This is sort of two fics in one. The first half focuses mostly on filling in the gaps with some critical S12 Cas episodes, especially Cas & Mary’s developing friendship (and one night of something more). But of course Cas’s feelings for Dean (and vice-versa) are always there, and when Cas figures out a way to get his powers fully back, the question is if Dean can open himself up to be vulnerable - and express love - the way Cas needs for this to work.

This was an interesting fic in a lot of ways. I loved the author’s take on angels’ connections to their vessels and grace, it was very consistent in a way the show sometimes/often wasn’t. Cas is very Cas in not understanding privacy and personal boundaries (so he does some questionable things, admittedly, which might squick some readers). The smut is fucking HOT - though I will caution at one point it involves Cas temporarily in a younger (NOT underage) female vessel (and the story does point out Dean’s discomfort with this and some of the consent issues involved, I don’t want to spoil too much). I wanted the Mary plot resolved more than it was, but I still recommend this story strongly for the quality of the writing and unique/well-developed take on angel lore and mechanics that was quite different from what I’m used to reading.

We Are Either Here Or Not Here by petramacneary (54k) A post-season 12 fic that goes on a different tangent to how Cas returns, and what happens in the meantime. Particularly, it offers a different take on what apocalypseverse!Cas would be like—as Mary makes her own way back from that world with AU!Cas as her prisoner.

What I loved about this story: first off, BAMF!Mary is awesome here. Dean is so heartbreaking, not quite knowing what the fuck to do with this different Cas who at times is just a painful reminder of who/what Dean’s lost...but then becomes a chance for Dean to say and express some of the things he always was afraid to in the past. And when (real/our) Cas finally returns, there’s some very interesting stuff that happens with both Cas & AU!Cas and Cas & Dean that I don’t want to spoil. (And let’s also just say that when real!Cas and Dean finally get together it’s AMAZINGLY awesome. Like, hot Impala!sex. So is the artwork that goes with this story.)

You Can Keep Holding On by NorthernSparrow (353k) The longest fic I read this time around and probably the one I have the most mixed feelings about, but a while on I do keep thinking about parts of it so I do rec it with some caveats. This is a canon-divergence after the end of Season 11. Dean & Sam find Cas after he’s been blasted out of the bunker...to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Mary isn’t in this one except for a brief appearance/visit, which Dean thinks is Amara’s gift to him. Life seems good for a while, they’re enjoying dealing with mundane problems for a change, but then Cas seems to be pulling away from the brothers, spending less and less time with them at the bunker, taking a mundane job at another Gas ‘n Sip, and clearly preoccupied by something else. Or is it someone else? Dean is worried yet finally ready to accept that Cas maybe has a girlfriend, or a boyfried, but then it turns out that is not at all what Cas has going on. It’s something far more serious than that.

Honestly I almost stopped reading when the reveal happened - it’s a subject that’s very sensitive to me from personal/family experience and not something I usually like reading in fic (especially if there is a sad ending.) So I admit I jumped ahead to read how it would end first before committing to finishing it. And I am glad I did, because the author handles the subject matter with a realism and obvious knowledge of experience as well, not how I often see it in fanfic. There are a lot of emotional ups and downs but it’s nice seeing Dean in his momma-hen/mode, and Sam is so so good in this one! I think I enjoyed Sam’s characterization here most of all! And the author has a really cool/well developed angel/wing lore that hit my wing-kink pretty hard. I do think it could have all been edited down a bit - I found myself skimming parts, especially in the last third, just to get on with things. But it’s definitely a story you can disappear into for a good long time and I’ve bookmarked the author’s other works to read later, so again, I do rec it even with a few caveats.

A few shorter fics, too, just because I don’t want to forget about them...

Eleven Erogenous Zones of a Fallen Angel by almaasi (15k) Pure gratuitous wing!kink for me :) Cas uses the last of his grace to manifest his wings...but then is stuck with them in his human form and not even able to use them to fly as he used to. This presents a lot of awkward problems to deal with but also the excuse for Dean to help him keep them clean :) I did say wing kink, right? :D :D I loved how Cas seemed confused about the pleasure signals he got from bathing vs. sex vs. grooming and all of that. It’s sweet and hot and has my favorite kind of caretaking Dean in it.

Fossil Tracks by SegaBarrett (3k). Dean & Sam & Cas and dinosaurs. How can you go wrong with that? One of the SPN stories from the Id Pro Quo collection I really enjoyed reading (and didn’t write myself, lol).

#destiel recs #my fic recs #deancas recs #fandom that ate my life hello #destiel fic recs #my destiel recs

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backofthebookshelf · 4 years

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One of the nice things about the way the TMA fandom has reached full large-fandom levels of toxicity is that I no longer care if people get mad at me for my opinions on characters! So, some Georgie meta.

(Because fandom is and always has been Like That, I do feel the need to clarify here that I love Georgie, she's one of my favorite characters, characters are more interesting because of their flaws, and I have no investment in the idea that women or female characters are inherently better or more emotionally competent than men or male characters. If I talk a lot about her relationship with Jon, it's because Jon is our point of view character and also the person she interacts with the most. Also, this rambles, sorry.)

I've been thinking about the Season 4 Jon Trauma post and how much I liked the way it talked about Georgie, and it's convinced me that if Georgie could feel fear, she's the one who'd be most afraid of Jon out of all of them. She's the one protagonist we have whose only interaction with the powers has been as a direct victim of them. She doesn't know what they feel like from the inside, like Jon and Melanie; she doesn't know what they're like when they're someone you love, like Basira; she doesn't even know what they're like as petty middle management, like Martin and Tim. What she knows is that one time a monster ate her (only) friend and traumatized her so badly she spent a year in a suicidal depression.

And now her ex - and yes, Jon and Georgie have a remarkably comfortable relationship in the beginning of season three, but they're still exes and they broke up for reasons, even if we don't know exactly what they are - has turned up on her doorstep, shaking and possibly bloody, with nowhere else to go and no access to his home. He's clearly lying about what's going on. He repeatedly violates her house rules. And then he tells her that he's turning into one of those same kinds of monsters that traumatized her and ate her friend. It's clearly enough to override any remaining affection she had for him, and by any definition he has now positioned himself as a trigger.

(Through no fault of his own: the only real response he has to Georgie's statement is "I can't believe you didn't tell me." She's the one who assumes that he Knew, somehow, that she also had a statement; she's the one who suggests he had alternatives. Both suggestions are plausible but we don't actually know for certain that either are true.)

But Georgie isn't afraid of Jon because Georgie can't be afraid -at least, according to her. I'm not sure how much I believe this in the grand scheme of things; it seems like an extremely unlikely mechanism for one of the fears to have. It seems much more likely to me that she's just never met anything as terrifying as that encounter was, and her subjective sense of fear has been massively recalibrated. In which case not only meeting but having hosted in your home another monster who self-describes as similar to the one that was so terrifying that literal threats to your life are no longer distressing would...probably ping. But she's conceptualized herself as a person who doesn't feel fear; it's even possible that was part of her recovery, identifying this as a possible benefit of what would otherwise have been a universally terrible, soul-breaking experience. She looked existential terror in the face and survived, and came out of it a person who cannot be afraid of anything left on this earth. That's kind of a superhero origin story, and I can't blame her for it. I think anyone with a mental illness has at least tried to find ways in which their suffering has made them a better, stronger person.

But whether she's suppressing and rationalizing away any fear she feels or she genuinely doesn't feel any of it, she does frequently behave as though her lack of fear gives her a more objective view of the situation than anyone else. I don't believe she actually uses the word "just," but it drips from her every interaction with Jon after Dead Woman Walking. Why doesn't he just stop reading the statements? Why doesn't he just quit? And, in Zombie, I honestly can't interpret her reaction to Jon when he wakes up from his coma as anything other than, Why doesn't he just die? If he hates being this so much, if he really doesn't want to be a monster, why doesn't he just die?

I really would like to think that it goes without saying that this is, at the very least, a massive failure of empathy, but she's so explicit about it and fandom spent so much time basically agreeing with her that apparently it doesn't. Not only is Georgie not afraid of the situation, but (and this is the part that makes me wonder if she's not rationalizing, rather than being supernaturally unable to feel fear) she can't possibly fathom how afraid everyone else is, and she never tries. She persists in treating the whole awful situation, as @findingfeather's post says, like this is a mundane problem with people who are refusing to help themselves, rather than a supernatural trap that has been specifically built to be inescapable.

Now, let me be clear, even if she were talking to, say, a drug addict who nearly killed themselves because they were in denial about how much of a problem they had, her attitude would be unforgivable. But in this case Jon had no choice in whether or not to become addicted to statements; it was done to him in such a way that he didn't notice it was happening until withdrawal was already incapacitating. He also didn't have the option to leave, as Tim's extended vacation made clear. And, on top of all of that, the whole reason he was in a coma in the first place was that he was trying to save the world. (Neither he nor she knows at this point that he was doing nothing of the kind, so that's really not relevant.) And - look, when Jon came to her after the end of season two, he was asking for help. When he rejected the kind of help that she offered it was because he knew it didn't apply to the problems he actually had, but she treats that like it's his problem, which is something like offering a leg splint to a person bleeding out from a gunshot wound and getting offended when they tell you that won't work. He was very clear that what was happening scared him and he didn't know what to do about it, and her only suggestion was "walk away," which he literally could not do, for multiple reasons.

She's lucky Jon has pretty much precisely zero self-worth at this point, because anyone else would have cut her off completely for behaving like a fucking asshole.

I say "she's lucky" because frankly, even though she says that she wants nothing more to do with him, she turns up at least twice in the Institute after that, with the excuse that she's picking up Melanie to take her to therapy. I don't know about you, but I have never once gone to someone's workplace to pick them up and gone snooping around inside, and no matter how fascinatingly weird that workplace is, I definitely can't imagine doing so when I know that workplace also contains a person I have definitely decided I never want to speak to again. She goes into the Archives, for Christ's sake, and she listens outside Jon's office door for long enough to catch a bit of the recording before letting herself in (so it's very clear she knows who's in there).

Now I'm not trying to paint her as a monster here; Georgie would hardly be the first person to have second thoughts about cutting off someone they still care about, or to break that boundary that they set themselves when they realize they do still want to know how that person is doing. But the fact is that she positions herself as having the moral high ground in every single discussion they have and that's just not true. She is not literally a supernatural monster, true, but if season four did anything with the concept of monsters it was breaking down the difference between "supernaturally driven no-longer-human" and "person capable of caring and empathy." (That's a whole different meta, though, one that I will get around to someday.) Not that Jon is any better, in that encounter specifically, at dealing with a complicated and contentious relationship - he deliberately goads her, even if he doesn't use compulsion. But that's the thing, they're both exes who have had a falling out and aren't handling it very well. Neither of them is in the right.

All of which makes me really wonder what her relationship with Melanie is actually like. We don't actually see hardly any of it directly, and of what we do, well, Melanie sounds like she's still high on painkillers, so it's hard to take that as an indication of anything. But given that people (who are not intentionally trying to manipulate those around them) tend to, y'know, be fundamentally the same person in their various relationships, though it may manifest in different ways, we can probably make some guesses.

I have always been bothered by, and I really can't ignore, the fact that they were getting together at the same time that Melanie was doing what Georgie has been demanding of Jon since season three: she did whatever it took to get out. I have to wonder if Georgie knows about the nonconsensual surgery part of Melanie's process of getting out, and if she does, if she understands how vital it was. I certainly wouldn't be surprised, if she does know, that she's managed to compartmentalize it: Jon inflicted this terrible trauma on Melanie, Melanie escaped the entity that took her over. (Subconscious implication: Jon is a monster; Melanie is better than him.) I would be very surprised if Georgie is interested at all in the fine distinctions between entities; she's shown no interest in learning what is actually happening to anyone in this situation beyond "it's bad and they should get out of it." But it's relevant, because by the time Melanie makes the decision to blind herself, she's in a much different position than Jon, enslaved by an entity but not consumed by one. She herself admitted to Jon that she would never have voluntarily escaped from the Slaughter.

And given how difficult Melanie finds it to talk about any of this - you can hear her dragging the words out from behind her teeth in her conversation with Jon in Flesh, truly incredible acting by Lydia Nicholas, my god - if Georgie doesn't want to hear it? I can't imagine Melanie insisting. Yes, Melanie is going to therapy, but let me tell you, I've been going to therapy for twelve years now and I have yet to have several of the important conversations my therapists have insisted I have. That shit is hard. But I can imagine a scenario where, having been told by her therapist (who, remember, doesn't have the first idea what Melanie is actually going through, because Melanie isn't telling her about the supernatural so she has to leave out a lot of really relevant details) that she ought to tell her friend/potential girlfriend/new girlfriend about these things, Melanie attempts to bring it up, Georgie says kind and reassuring things and refuses to let her clarify any of the details, and Melanie gives up in relief, thinking, well, I tried. Super valid all around, but it doesn't mean that Georgie has any clearer picture of what Melanie's traumas actually look like, never mind Jon's. There's no world in which I can imagine Georgie actually internalizing the idea that Melanie loved the Slaughter when it had her, and she would gladly have stayed with it if Jon and Basira hadn't intervened.

In Georgie's eyes, Melanie is being a Good Victim. She was hurt but she was strong; she fought it until she won; now she's going to therapy and setting boundaries and trying to heal. She got away.

(Except, of course, she didn't, because as of The Eye Opens no one has gotten away, because this is the entire world now. We have no idea how this has affected Melanie. Presumably she's out of reach of the Eye, given that Jon can't see her or Georgie (and there's some evidence on the side of Georgie's encounter genuinely having stripped her of fear, if she's also invisible to the Eye), but she spent a long time under the influence of the Slaughter. It had her firmly enough that her attacking Jon was enough to give him his Slaughter scar. If nothing else, Melanie certainly hasn't had her fear removed, and talk about a situation bound to retraumatize someone who had such a visceral revulsion to being trapped that Elias chose it as his mechanism of control over her. Melanie probably doesn't look like a Good Victim any more, and I'd bet her relationship with Georgie is suffering some serious strain because of it.)

We don't know when exactly Melanie and Georgie got together; the last time one of them mentions the other is, I'm pretty sure, when Georgie tells Jon that Melanie is back from India. So we know that Georgie and Melanie were friends; that's good, that's a good foundation for a romantic relationship. At the very least they know each other, they have some idea of what to expect. I'd be surprised if they were dating during that season 3/4 hiatus period, though, or frankly any time before Melanie's surgery, just because Melanie seems much too consumed with rage to have room for any other emotions, and I can't imagine Georgie putting up with that.

What seems way more likely to me is this: Melanie comes back from India, arranges to meet Georgie for drinks. Probably they don't talk about anything serious; possibly they talk about Jon, honestly, since we know Melanie was looking for him and Georgie talked to him about Melanie, but very likely in the same "stuck-up pompous ass" way that Melanie talks about Jon in early seasons. (I bet Melanie's roasts are amazing.) Shortly after that Melanie joins the Magnus Institute and then, very likely, either she never tells Georgie about it and therefore they don't talk much or she does tell Georgie about it and Georgie tells her that place is bad news and she won't have anything to do with it and they don't talk at all, until, whichever way that went, the Unknowing happens and Tim dies and Jon winds up in a coma and everything goes to shit. We know Georgie visits Jon in the hospital; we don't know if Melanie does, but frankly it seems unlikely. If they did cross paths during this time, it was probably very brief and superficial. Then: the surgery, and Melanie's recovery.

I'll be honest, I have a hard time imagining Melanie deciding on her own that she should go to therapy. It's possible Basira suggested it, but it really does sound like a Georgie thing to do. So I picture something like this: from the way Basira talks it sounds like they've all been pretty much living in the Archives for a while, and on top of that everyone in the Archives has just badly violated Melanie's trust, so Melanie pulls up her Facebook DMs and talks to the only other person she has. You were right, she says, this place is terrible, I can't handle it, there's no one here I can trust and I'm so alone. And Georgie, who is generous with help and advice (so long as it's accepted) and (like anyone) weak to being told she was right about something, starts talking to her. We know Georgie's got good boundaries, and we know she doesn't want to hear details about what's going on in the Institute, so I can see her saying, I can talk to you, I would love to talk to you, but not about this. For that you need a therapist.

So Melanie gets a therapist, and the prospect of going out amongst the monsters they know are stalking the Institute without that protective shield of rage (never mind the emotional vulnerability of going to therapy in the first place) makes public transit an unthinkable option, so she asks Georgie to take her, and she does, and she keeps taking her to therapy, which is, as far as we know, the only time Melanie leaves the Archives in season four, until she blinds herself and escapes it completely.

And so they have this relationship that's built up almost entirely around Melanie's trauma - with a foundation of friendship, certainly, so I do think that if they are willing to work through it they could make it a working, healthy relationship, but (and again this isn't stated in canon but is my speculation based on what we know about these characters) it is a romantic relationship that's built around the process of Melanie recovering from multiple traumas. Ones that we know that Georgie a) doesn't know many details about, and b) more importantly, refuses to know any details about. Now, I have no experience with romantic relationships and serious trauma; I might be wildly off base here. But. I know that boundaries are important and I know that trust is also important. And if Georgie is holding similar boundaries with Melanie that she has with Jon (and, as I went into excruciating detail about earlier, she has very solid emotional reasons to protect herself with those boundaries), that's drawing a hard line around what's basically the past two to three years of Melanie's life, and undeniably both the worst and most important things that have ever happened to her. That seems...difficult to manage in the long term.

(This is a bit more of a stretch, more of the germ of a fic idea than an argument I'm prepared to defend, but I also would not be surprised if Georgie told Melanie that she wouldn't date her while she was still working at the Institute. That's a very reasonable boundary, and it's good motivation - and probably healthy motivation, I do like the idea that Melanie had something to reach toward in escaping the Institute, not just the desperate flight from - but it's also something of an ultimatum. Which is not inherently bad, but it is the kind of thing that can fester, given other problems.)

Now it's entirely possible that Georgie isn't that internally consistent. People aren't! (See: Basira's attitude toward Daisy vs her attitude toward Jon in season four.) Maybe she's more flexible about being willing to listen to Melanie, maybe she's starting to understand some of what was happening and how genuinely impossible a situation it really was. But that has to be a struggle for her, too; it's not a perfect, sweet, unconditionally good situation that teaches you that you've been unfair to the point of cruelty to someone you used to care about. And by the time the apocalypse rolls around, Melanie is, if she's lucky, just barely able to say she's healed from the plain physical trauma of blinding, never mind all the other baggage. They've got to be having a rough fucking time of it, at the very least, even if you assume that they're suddenly both the kind of people who will sit still and listen supportively and talk honestly about their own messy and complicated emotions, when neither of them have been that kind of person before.

(Another disclaimer because Fandom Is Like That: This is in no way a condemnation of or argument against fluffy What the Girlfriends fic; fic is for making fluffy things that you want to happen to your faves, or building fluffy content that you desperately need for whatever reason. Gods know there are plenty of unhealthy parts of Jon and Martin's relationship that I ignore in most of my fluffy fic. This is me attempting to work through my thoughts and feelings about the relationship I see in canon in the hopes of actually being able to write some fic about these girls myself someday, because I personally can't write fic until I understand canon, and so much of them happens offscreen because they're not main characters, and they're written with such depth and complexity that you can't just slap a stereotype on them and call it good. Which is awesome! But it means I gotta do the work, and I post it because a) it's work, and this is fandom, and I want validation; and b) I'm hoping other people have insights that might also help me clarify my thinking.)

#the magnus archives #tma #georgie barker #jonathan sims #melanie king #long post #real fuckin' long post #sorry #it's a meta party #cw suicide #cw addiction

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nny11writes · 3 years

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For we will raise you, in safety and peace

Okay, tumblr ate the first attempt at this post, hopefully it doesn’t devour this one as well! Here’s the deal, I can’t seem to figure out a good ending for this fic to save my life and I don’t want it to languish in the pile of unfinished wips. So I’m going to post what I have here on tumblr to at least get it out there somewhere. If anyone has suggestions for an ending I am all ears! HUGE shoutout to @venn364 for helping me figure this fic out to this point and for helping me Horde-ify hush a by baby!

Rating: Teen (for some cursing) Category: F/F/F Relationship(s): Glitradora (Glimmer/Catra/Adora) Characters: Glimmer, Catra, Adora Warnings: None apply, this is a fluff fic Additional Tags: Multiple PoVs, fluff, happy fic, happy ending, crushes, idiots in love, dorks in love, young children, Catra deals with the curse of being cute, Adora is a massive dork but what else is new, Glimmer tries to flex on her crushes by singing, lullaby, hush a by baby, post war, post canon Summary: During the post-war reconstruction of Plumeria, Glimmer volunteers herself and voluntells her crushes to take care of the local children to keep them out from under foot. She just, didn’t expect the Horde to require childcare as part of their regular duties and rotation. Or Three Sapphics watch one another interacting with young children and go, “Well guess I’m somehow more in love, cool cool cool.”

Adora and Catra looked at one another and shrugged. “Yeah okay.”

Glimmer was relieved, don’t get her wrong, but that was…not exactly what she’d expected. “Just like that? That simple?”

It wasn’t like she’d expected them to just hop on board with her, even if she’d wanted this to all pan out.

Catra rolled her eyes, a bit too theatrically thanks, before answering, “Well, I mean, sucks to be doing Cadet chores again, but, whatever. Just a buncha kids.”

“I feel like I’m missing something,” Glimmer grumbled, rubbing a hand at her neck. “You’re not trying to act too cool, and you’re not freaking out enough.”

They shared another confused look before Adora spoke up. “I mean, why would I? We’ve done a bunch of rounds at the Infant Pods, more than our fair share in fact.” That last part she said with a pointed look at her oldest friend.

Catra stretched lazily, “I will not apologize.”

“Point is, we can do this. It’s pretty simple over all, especially with you there as a third!”

Glimmer laughed, “Wait. Hang on, seriously? I’ve never babysat before but you two have?”

“Really? Weird. But, uh, yeah. Everyone in the Horde has some child rearing experience, it’s literally part of your Cadet chores and rotation.”

The galaxy must be on it’s side right now. The Horde, the EVIL Horde, had enforced babysitting chores. “Why?”

Adora shrugged, “Well someone has to make sure they’re clean and fed, doing their homework-”

“Not destroying property or getting in dangerous situations before we could send them to the meat grinder-”

“Keeping them out from underfoot, and getting their energy out too.”

“Also the whole, sometimes babies just die when you don’t, like, hold them enough thing. ...What? Did you think Hordak was at the Pods rocking them to sleep?” Catra laughed.

It certainly was an image. Glimmer giggled as she pictured Hordak overwhelmed by a literal wave of babies. “No, I just never thought about it I guess. You’ll have to teach me.”

They both grinned and Glimmer felt her heart skip a beat. It was, look, don’t judge, it was a really, really good look on them, okay?

It only took a few minutes to arrive at the temporary nursery Perfuma had set up. While Plumeria was still being cleaned up, she’d wanted a safe place for the children to go, and only needed a few extra hands to help as she pulled her subjects to help redesign their homes. Not that she’d put it like that. Something about syncing their harmonies while reconnecting with their innermost roots? The point was that Glimmer had offered to help mostly to help and partially to avoid another extremely long and boring meeting, but one teleporting queen with no childcare experience was not ideal. Perfuma had been the one to suggest Catra and Adora, seeing as the reconstruction really relied more on Perfuma regrowing the homes in this particular space.

So, they were working with what they had. And apparently that meant Horde soldiers. Experienced Horde soldiers who knew what to do with kids. Weird!

When they arrived, it was chaos.

Catra couldn’t help the small grimace she wore, she’d never been fond of IPD. Kids are loud, they don’t have boundaries or respect for other’s boundaries either. She doesn’t know how many times some toddler or Junior Cadet had petted her or pulled her tail and ears with their mysteriously sticky little hands while covered in snot. But she could also say that the one good thing about it was, without fail, some baby was going to think you were the hottest shit ever. And it had done wonders for her low self esteem as a Cadet to know that she’d always collect a gaggle of kids who everyone claimed were impossible to handle doing exactly what she wanted.

It had actually been kind of hilarious out in the Crimson Waste to use some of the tactics she’d learned in the IP against grown gangsters and thugs.

Catra could also say that the very next best thing about it was watching Adora either slowly unravel into a total mess or watching Adora get all the other kids under her thumb. Not that Adora would think of it like that, the goody two shoes, but kids seemed to naturally either love the blonde or desire nothing more than to destroy her.

Especially at the time, Catra could relate.

She was actually kind of interested to do this now just to see Adora go at it again.

And also Glimmer apparently had no experience with kids and Catra would kill to watch that skiff wreck. No, ugh, she had promised to help hadn’t she? Alright, no watching that skiff wreck unless it happened before she could intervene.

She snickered a little as, just like she used to, Adora gave the attention claps that none of these particular kids would know. Embarrassingly, the old rhythm still made Catra’s back straighten a hair just thanks to the amount of times she’d heard it.

Adora’s voice rang loud and clear across the little fenced in area, “Atten-shun!”

The kids mostly stopped, but Catra had a feeling that was due to an adult shouting and not out of their training. Did rebellion kids have training? They had to get some kind of education for sure. Huh. Probably should look into that, like, now that it was post war and all.

“Hello, salutations, and greetings!” Adora started her old spiel as if she’d never stopped, putting on her ‘force captain’ voice which was almost a mockery more than anything else. Not that Adora realized that. “I am Adora, this is Catra, and this is Glimmer. Today we will be watching, caring, sharing, and not botching a wonderful day of enrichment with you. Starting now we will do our very best to educate, captivate, and celebrate without need to castigate! It is time to have fun and run, uh, under the sun! Can I get a hoo-ra?”

The part about their newly acquired sun was a nice touch, Catra mental gave Adora extra points for finally having learned to change it on the fly. Catra weakly lifted a fist to mutter ‘hoo-ra’ with a few confused kids. Oof. Rough, but not unexpected. These ankle biters hadn’t been trained to respond promptly and loudly to Horde commands.

Yet it still had about the same effect. The children were already split down the middle looking at Adora like she was a complete idiot or like she was the best thing ever. Soon more of them would think she was the best thing ever than not, kids loved Adora’s canned speech. It always got a few laughs. Kids were easily entertained by someone clearly putting on a show and rhyming.

Adora put on an over the top look of bewilderment, putting her fists on her hips in some sort of quasi-power pose before asking, “What kind of hoo-ra was that? I want you to shout from deep in your lungs, you won’t sound dumb when it’s all in good fun! Now can I get a HOO-RA?”

Catra gave a slightly more enthusiastic call, and was delighted when Glimmer gamely screamed her head off and then blushed as the kids stared at her, because they had still not shouted. Alright, this had already paid off! Nothing better that watching Glimmer blush like that.

Adora was smiling warmly at the queen, that was always a good look on her. “I SAID HOO-RA!”

This time they managed to get most of the brats on board. A whole army of kids no taller than her waist who were thrilled to scream, a few even did it more than once. It was kind of nostalgic.

“THAT’S what I call a call! I am floored by this horde-” Adora’s eyes widened in panic as she tried to pivot her pre-written speech for a second time. “-o-of wards! Floored! I am floored!”

Aaaand twice was one too many alterations. As much fun as it would be to watch Adora fall apart over it, Catra knew it was mean. And she was trying to, you know, to be less mean.

“Ca-Adora,” wow this was harder than she’d thought. She hadn’t almost called Adora a Cadet in years. “Will be working with any of you who’d like to play a singing and marching game. Line up in front of Adora if you want to join.”

Catra grabbed Glimmer’s hand to pull her forward, which really was only for the benefit of getting to hold Glimmer’s hand. “Anyone who does not want to play a game can join us, we will be taking care of the infants so it’ll be quieter.”

She was not surprised when most of the children flocked to play. There were always a few quiet ones or nervous ones who would hang back, and she was counting on it. Sure enough four kids shuffled their way instead of towards Adora, who was already sorting her little platoon into rank and file, teaching them a quick sound off to learn their names.

Catra motioned between her and Glimmer, “You know our names, what are yours?” The kids shifted awkwardly, looking at one another to start. Catra smirked. “If you don’t want to say I will give you a nickname. For instance, this is now Sparkles.”

Glimmer glared at her, but Catra didn’t stop or let her get a word in edgewise. She pointed at the first kid with glasses, “You can be Specs, short for specification.” A bold faced lie if she’d ever told one. “Stripes, I like your shirt!” Less of a lie. “Flower Power just like Princess Perfuma,” she nodded to the boy with a flower crown. The last kid was nervously shifting hoof to hoof, “And Two Step you got some fancy looking moves.”

“And what do you all think we should call Catra?” Glimmer asked, grinning evilly, as if the kids wouldn’t just suggest kitty or fluffy or whiskers. Maybe tails if someone was feeling creative.

“Kitty!”

Catra chuckled, it was like clockwork. “How about Big Cat? It’s cooler than Kitty!” They nodded gamely to the change. “Cool. Now, does anyone want to help me with the babies? We just need to hold them.”

That was how Catra found herself leaning back against a tree with an infant sleeping on her chest after she’d situated Glimmer and the quartet. All while snickering at some of the concerned looks being shot their way as Adora got the platoon marching and singing. If they weren’t gonna get their asses in gear to manage all the hyper kids, then they could suck it up. Besides, it wasn’t even that intense of a song.

“I think that learning is cool!” The kids echoed after Adora. “Which is why I will stay in school!”

It was schlocky and dorky, if she’d been over there she’d have died of embarrassment already.

Still, Catra couldn’t help but melt a little as Adora exaggerated a high march and then kids behind her did basically whatever they wanted as she marched them around the nursery. It was nice. Even if it made Adora look really dumb, it also made her look happy. Something Catra hadn’t seen a lot of from her in years. Oh no, she was getting mushy about this now?

Disgusting. She needed a distraction stat.

“Anyone have a good story?” Catra asked and after a beat of silence, promptly ignored the kids as they started almost talking over each other to tell something about their day or who knows what. Thankfully Glimmer seemed interested even if a little stiff and awkward. Catra was grateful that her fur hid a sudden blush as she watched Glimmer holding a baby and being enthusiastically engaged in the kids' stories.

Wow.

She gets away from the Horde for less than a year, and now she’s getting sappy over Sparkles.

Gross.

Adora, of course, had a plan. A good one with details and everything!

She was using her patented IPPA (thankfully, things had to be going pretty bad for her to resort to Infant Pod Plan B) and so far things had gone well. She’d taught her platoon to march, even got them to make up some rhymes to sing for it (even if she’d had to backtrack after one of the boys said ‘butts’ and everyone then started to just scream sentences with little sense ending with ‘butts’). After a bit of that she got them doing some basic exercise with her. Jumping jacks and running, she’d then start a game of charge and was already wincing in sympathy pains as some of the kids hurled themselves full speed at the enemy team only to fold in half around their linked arms. Still, the point was to give them free reign here to lose their minds and wear out their bodies a little in preparation for a well earned nap or quiet play time.

After making sure that Catra had eyes on her group, Adora left to hunt down water for everyone, and maybe spent a little time making heart eyes across the field.

Catra, despite what she thought, was pretty good with kids. Especially little infants. Between her fluff, heat, and purrs she was an instant baby soother. Adora would know, she was once the only big baby that Catra would soothe the same way. When they’d been younger, Catra used to lose her temper during IPD, but the older they got the more she’d pull it together. There had always been something heartwarming about watching Catra sit down with a kid who was upset and listen to them intently.

Then there was Glimmer. Gosh, she’d been so nervous going in, but seemed to be quickly becoming a favorite. Because Glimmer always listened to people, no matter their age, and her high energy responses appeared to be winning her fans. The more she integrated with the kids, the more she relaxed too. And there was something absolutely mind blowing about watching her bounce a little baby in her arms, while gasping in genuine delight at something a kid had scribbled into the dirt with a stick.

Adora didn’t even blush, didn’t feel a lick of shame as she quietly got affirmation that yes, girls.

“Ew,” one of the kids snickered after finishing their water, looking right at her before making a face.

She smiled, shrugging and offered her best, worldly advice. “Girls are great.”

“Ew.” They repeated before giggling and skipping away to their friends.

Whether they eventually agreed with her, liked boys instead, like everyone, or even no one, Adora felt very assured in her assessment of wow girls pretty, so she let it slide.

Later, standing at the barrel and handing out gourds of water or helping kids re-apply their protective balms (the sun was nice, but the sun could apparently burn you which was insane), she did another check. Taking note of any particularly worn out kids to send over to Catra’s group, and was very pleased that no one seemed to be really injured. Man, this was way easier than manhandling Recruits who were about to be Junior Cadets. Maybe she could do this more often? Without all the jockeying for power and praise it was actually fun.

After another thirty minutes whizzed by according to her internal clock, Adora decided it was time to start her platoon’s cool down for water and snacks. Maybe a nap after that. It was all smooth sailing!

Adora managed to make eye contact with Catra, flashing a quick few hand signs they’d made up when they were eight and almost lived in the pods between Adora’s clumsiness and Catra’s random bursts of high energy. Catra nodded, both hands occupied as she bottle fed one of the infants, and Adora almost died. First of cuteness, because Catra was looking so cute! But also from laughter because Glimmer’s tongue was sticking out between her teeth in concentration as she carefully fed another infant. And also because she looked super cute doing it!

What a sight! It took her another minute to realize she was just standing there staring at them with a horrifically soft smile on her face. And Catra was staring back with an equally mortifying soft look. And Glimmer was now looking between them with her own embarrassingly tender look.

So this is how I die, public affection.

For some reason this was the thing that set her off. Blushing as red as her jacket, Adora pivoted around to call the platoon to get some snacks and more water. Which, considering most of them were either still singing or making up marching songs, took a little bit to organize.

The snack and water break had been decently timed, they had just finished burping the last of the babies when Adora called all the kids over. Catra waited with Glimmer until everyone else had something to eat, before mingling as best she could. It was more second nature to keep her head on a swivel, making sure no kids were making a jailbreak and no one was beating someone else’s face in. Although that probably wasn’t a concern on the Rebellion side. Maybe she’d have to rescue a kid from suffocating under a bunch of hugs?

She shrugged and got a gourd of water, barely finishing it before Two Step tugged at her hand. They’d only gotten more energetic the longer they’d been helping, so she wasn’t even surprised when they asked, "Can I pet your fluff!?"

Catra sighed heavily. This is what she got for wearing a crop top around children. She turned to look at the Two Step and smiled as best she could while also dying inside. If she didn’t let it happen following her own rules, many kids would simply find a way to make it happen anyways. Better to get it out of the way and without sticky hands. Seriously what do kids even do that makes their hands that sticky? "Sure, but only if I can touch your antlers, they look fuzzy."

They almost stabbed her in the stomach with said nubbly antlers in their excitement, apparently oblivious for at least a moment about how fragile they were. Two Step was still wiggling around the way they had the whole afternoon as they rushed to explain, "They are! They’re new and growing in bigger and my dad says that someday they’ll be HUGE like his!"

She ran a few fingers carefully along the warm velvet and nodded, it was softer than she’d actually expected it to be, and it almost seemed like she could feel the blood pumping in them? Or maybe her brain was messing with her? Either way, weird. "Neat. Your turn kiddo."

Catra did her best to not groan in annoyance when the girl simply leaned forward to rub her face on the fluffiest part of her belly.

"You said pet."

"I am petting!"

"Petting is done with your hands, not your face."

"Says who?"

Well shit, had her there. “...alright, well played.”

She glared as the trademark a high pitched whistling sound of cooing alerted her to Glimmer and Adora looking at her with hearts in their eyes and sparkles around their faces. Not literally, but she could picture it. The traitors. She could see Glimmer mouthing the words so cute and groaned. She was not cute! Ugh!

“Okay, I think that’s enough.”

Two Step grumbled but let go. “Thanks!” And with that they skipped away to hang out with the other kids.

Oh yeah, definitely time to put the kids down for a nap if they could.

It had taken longer that Glimmer expected to calm down the kids. A small handful of them went tearing off around the field cackling like loons as Catra easily loped after them on all fours. Which of course resulted in more kids wanting to get chased for some reason, shrieking in delight each time Catra put on a hair more speed to tap their arms or legs. Eventually even they were exhausted and fell panting into the grass for Adora and her to watch while Catra continued herding. It was adorable and Glimmer was never, ever gonna let her live down her afternoon of being a sheep dog. If only Bow or Entrapta were here to take a picture!

Glimmer reluctantly left her post of watching and jeering at ‘Big Cat’ to help Adora get the youngest ones situated and sleeping rolls or blankets laid out. For the ones who refused to take a nap (whether because they weren’t tired or wanted to pretend they weren’t tired), Glimmer asked around to find a few decks of cards for them to use. She wrangled a promise from each group to be quiet so their friends could sleep, and by the time she’d finished that it was tempting to take her own nap.

Adora was efficiently sorting kids into sleeping spaces, and Glimmer smiled a bit at the way she let pairs and groups just pile up together. Having seen the impossible looking ways Adora and Catra could be found tangled up after a nap, she felt pretty confident that they knew what they were doing.

When Catra finally arrived with the last two kids, both of whom she carried under her arms as they giggled, Glimmer was grateful for the chance to relax a little with her friends. She nudged Adora’s side as they passed and whispered, “Maybe afterwards you can use She-Ra? You know, give them a climbing gym or swing them around.”

Adora blinked rapidly before breaking out in a huge grin and did a little over the top flexing before they made their way over to sit with Catra. And for a few minutes they sat in a peaceful silence, enjoying the sounds of the forest and leaning against one another.

“Pssst,” Stripes rolled over to look at them, making huge puppy dog eyes before asking, “Sing us a lullaby?”

Glimmer’s eyes sparkled as she turned to watch Adora and Catra apparently debate the issue, because hello! Getting to hear them sing lullabies! They rapidly signed back and forth, faces squashing and stretching as they added emphasis to the conversation before they turned and nodded.

“Okay,” Adora said softly, “but you can’t laugh, we only know Horde songs.”

“The Horde had songs?” A little boy asked, popping up from his blanket with a huge smile.

“Yeah we did. To be fair, they’re not uh,” Adora faltered and quickly looked at Catra, which to be fair Glimmer hadn’t considered that the songs they knew might be inappropriate. She quickly decided that she also didn’t really care.

“Adults probably wouldn’t like them here.” Catra supplied with a mischievous grin, apparently knowing that the kids would all be desperate to hear them now.

“Catra!” Adora hissed in what was probably supposed to be a whisper.

“I want to hear!” Glimmer added fuel to the fire and snickered at the look of betrayal on Adora’s face. “What? I do!”

She threw her arms in the air before huffing in her fake annoyed voice, “Fine, I’ll sing a song!”

There was a moment before Adora shakily started to sing both a very familiar tune set to very different lyrics.

Hush-a-bye baby, your crying will cease For we will raise you, in safety and peace If the walls crumble, there’s no need to bawl We’ll burn the villains, princess and all

Glimmer sputtered, accidentally ending it before it even started, not just because the lullaby included a line about burning rebellion citizens to death including princesses. But also because her mother used to sing this to her! “Wait, wait, wait, that’s- that’s not how that song goes!”

“Wha- yes it is!” Adora huffed, arms crossing as she blushed, “I said you couldn’t be mean!”

“First of all, you said I couldn’t laugh and I didn’t! Secondly,” Glimmer cleared her throat to sing her version. She’d always loved singing, even took lessons when she was younger before deciding she’d rather do it for fun. But what was the point of being able to sing flawlessly under pressure if not to flex on your crushes?

Rock-a-bye baby, thy cradle is green; Father's a nobleman, mother's a queen; And Buckley’s a washer, who wears a gold ring; And Tambour’s a drummer, who drums for the king.

Not that she got any further than Adora did before being interrupted as well.

“Ew, it’s all princessy!” Catra jeered playfully getting a few giggles from the kids.

“Uh, yeah, my mom sang it to me when I was a baby!”

“Gross. Ours is better!”

Adora laughed nervously, apparently unsure what to do as their play fight went down in front of a room full of impressionable children. Which, really, was her own fault for not expecting it.

Glimmer puffed up and leaned forward, tapping Catra on the nose just to be a brat before issuing the challenge she knew would get results. “Prove it!”

Ah, the good old stand by of “prove it”, as equally effective as a double dog dare!

So Catra, looking genuinely affronted, took a breath and sang in a wholly and unfairly good voice.

Hush-a-bye baby, your crying will cease For we will raise you, in safety and peace If the walls crumble, there’s no need to bawl We’ll burn the villains, princess and all

Baby is drowsing, valiant and brave With Hordak’s power, disorder we’ll stave Though cadet’s sleeping, her dreams we all share For order and harmony’s, our duty to bear

Hush-a-bye baby, do not you fear Never mind, baby, your squad is right here Strong little fingers, but eyes must shut tight Stay sound asleep now, until morning’s light

“People sang to you as babies about Hordak’s power and burning people?” Glimmer asked, both perplexed at the Horde-ified version and slightly disturbed. No wonder some of their soldiers bought the Evil Horde’s propaganda if this was what they were taught from the cradle!

“Glimmer, I love you, and I say this with as much respect as I can,” Catra said without an ounce of respect in her body or soul, “We grew up in the Fright Zone under the eyes of commanding officers of the Evil Horde. What did you think they sang to us about?”

Well shit, had her there.

#Glimmer #Adora #Catra #Glitradora #SPOP #she ra #fanfiction #fanfic #dorks in love is just *chef kiss*#the Horde sings lullabies to their babies #surprisingly familiar but wildly different lullabies #halp this fic won't let me wrap it up in a satisfying manner so I'm throwing it into the wind to see what falls out #this could absolutely end with them going into a relationship #or it could absolutely end with them just crushing on one another #suggestions are welcome!

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