#like ok its angst fuel but is it not better angst fuel to consider like... how he feels internally dealing with it entirely alone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Let Them Talk

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female) ft. Sykkuno

Warnings: Swearing, Jealousy

Genre: Fluff, a bit of Angst

Summary: We can all agree Among Us is a fun game on its own but what makes it ten times better is playing it with the right company. Y/N could agree 100% Being a streamer herself, she loves playing with the streamer gang that includes her boyfriend and best friend. But, what happens when her boyfriend starts doubting her feelings for him due to her close relationship with her best friend.

Requested by @cheetoscat . Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it took so long to write, I hope the final product is worth the wait. Enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

Y/AU/N - Your Among Us Name

I settle in my gaming chair, adjusting my webcam one last time before joining the Among Us lobby with my friends.

“Hi everyone!“ I say into the mic, a smile plastering itself on my face. Discord is a magical thing, man. It’s so easy to forget that the people you are talking to aren’t around you or within arm’s reach. You could be separated by miles and miles of land or - in our case - oceans as well. Distance becomes negligible when you hear your friends’ voices, their laughter; when you have a good time together despite being each behind a screen, often times alone.

Well, I’m one of those lucky ones that isn’t alone. No one knows that, though. Everyone thinks I’m a single, self-employed girl that’s straight out of college. And they are 90% right. Only thing is - I’m not single. That would be a shocker in and of itself, but revealing who’s changed my relationship status would be a bomb with a whole new intensity.

Speaking of my significant other who shall remain unnamed - just kidding, it’s Corpse - his form materializes in the doorway of my recording room. I give him a hand signal the camera isn’t able to capture, alerting him of the fact that my mic is on. He replies by blowing me a kiss and walking off down the hall to his recording room where he’ll be stationed for the next three or so hours.

I owe this relationship to my best friend Sykkuno. I’m a pretty new and not very well known on the platform, however, thanks to him I haven’t only obtained a boyfriend, but a following of a little over million subscribers as well.

It all started with an invitation to fill a spot in the Among Us lobby him and his friends had created. It took him quite a bit to convince me to join, but I eventually caved and agreed. Suddenly, there I was. In a Discord call, in an Among Us lobby with some of the most well-known names on this platform. I’m talking YouTube legends. I was that puppy playing with the big dogs. The newbie tagging along with the big leagues. Or at least that’s how I felt until we all started vibing - talking and teasing each other as though we’ve known each other for years and not minutes.

When I joined the call, Corpse wasn’t present. After everyone else introduced themselves, Sykkuno informed me that we were waiting for Corpse to return. The name sounded really cool to me and I was genuinely very excited to meet this Corpse guy.

And then, out of the blue - no prep, no warning...

“Did you get someone to fill the spot? Oh- Hello, Y/AU/N.“

…he started talking and he had me star-struck. Apparently, he also had me a blabbering mess cause I remember blurting out: “Whoa, who’s this guy speaking in bold and underlined at the same time?”

The entire lobby, including Corpse, laughed. Sean, or Jack like they called him most often, answered my question, “That is the voice of God, Y/N. Its source is named Corpse, though.”

Heat spread from the bottom of my neck to the tips of my ears. I was mortified by my own stupidity. I was well aware they couldn’t see me and I was incredibly thankful for that, but I simply could not get myself to open my eyes. “I’m so sorry.” I said through nervous laughter.

“No, no, I like that description. Bold and underlined at the same time, huh?“ His voice sounded even more pleasant when it had that teasing, mischievous note to it. That thought popping up in my head only made things worse for my self-esteem and only made me more embarrassed, causing me to hide my face in my hands. “You sure it’s not in Italics as well?“

His question got a weak laugh out of me. “Nope, definitely not. Nothing Italic about it.“

Yes, I don’t even know how some terrible jokes about MS Word fonts got me as far as a romantic relationship, but they did! We’ve been living together for quite some time now, dating for even longer - hiding it just as long. It’s not that we have been actively trying to hide it or something, we just wanted to see how long it would take someone to become sus of us. When we realized no one would notice, we decided that if any rumors about us started, or even fans shipping us, we’d come clean. That hasn’t happened either, so we haven’t had the proper chance to address our relationship and neither of us minds.

At this point, I’m honestly afraid of revealing it to the gaming squad. Sykkuno especially. He’s my best friend, after all. I can see him being hurt by the fact that I kept a secret so big even from him. The last thing I wanna do is hurt my best friend but it’s already too late for that, it’s inevitable.

“Y/N have you looked at Twitter today?“ Rae, another streamer I’ve become close with over the months, says urgently.

Overlooking the tension in her words, I answer: “Nope, haven’t had the time. Why? What’s up?“

Before Rae can say anything else, Sykkuno joins the conversation, his voice somehow even more urgent than Rae’s. “It’s nothing, Y/N. If you see it, just don’t let it bother you, ok?”

Hearing such a tone from Rae isn’t unusual, but hearing it from Sykkuno is completely different and a lot more worrisome. “Well if it has the potential of bothering me it can’t be nothing. What’s going on?”

Just then, my phone dings with two notifications. I check to see they are messages from Rae.

“I sent you screenshots. Sorry, Sykkuno. She has to know in order to address it and defuse it as well. I know better than anyone how fast these rumors can spread, especially if no one reacts to them.“ She says, her tone barely apologetic at all.

I open the screenshots she has sent me and I find myself frozen in shock. Some old pictures of Sykkuno and I have been posted on Twitter by some random user. These pictures have started an entire thread of suspicions surrounding our relationship.

The pictures in question are from a New Year’s Eve party a mutual friend of ours held two years ago. Sure, in the pictures we are a lot closer than what would be considered a platonic proximity. And yes one of the pictures is of me kissing his cheek. Yes we were both a bit tipsy. I acknowledge all those things and yet none of them are concrete reasons for these rumors to have started piling.

“This is silly.“ I finally say after maybe five minutes of silence on my end. ”This is absolutely ridiculous! And why are people so serious about it as well? Actual, important matters get discussed more nonchalantly than the potential relationship between two online personalities! What is this world we live in?“ I know I shouldn’t let these rumors get to me like this, especially not on camera. Still, I can’t help it. I feel it’s so unfair to Corpse. He has to put up with this as well and it’s by no means easy for him. I’ve been shipped with people from our group in the past and he always took those rumors to heart despite acting like he didn’t care. Neither of us should get worked up, but him getting upset about them creates a domino effect with my emotions - causing me to be hit just as hard as him, in some cases harder.

Rumors of the past aside, this one is the worst by far. Mostly cause even Corpse himself suspected something between Sykkuno and I at the very beginning, when we were still acquaintances, barely crossing into the realm of friends.

I pull up Twitter to look for the whole thread, barely sparing my stream chat a glance in the process. It seems pretty split - those who agree with me and those who think Sykkuno and I make ‘such an adorable couple’. The thread is ridiculously long, and if we take into account that it was only started approximately five hours ago, you can either view it as impressive, amusing or sad. Why sad? Because someone has dedicated so much time and effort into fueling the fire of a weakly supported theory.

I love Sykkuno with all my heart. Everyone knows that - fandom, streamer squad, Corpse and Sykkuno included. I love too much and too platonically to ever even dream of having a romantic connection with him. I thought that was more than obvious, but people are either blind here, or just grasping at straws. One thing’s for certain - they’re stepping on a nerve.

“Hey where’s Corpse? Did he disconnect?” Felix asks, gaining my full attention. My eyes dart to the monitor, searching through the little avatars in a desperate search for the one of my boyfriend. It’s nowhere to be found.

“He just messaged me saying his connection is unstable but he might join us later.“ Rae says, “You guys can invite someone to fill...“

“Bathroom break.“ I interrupt, not waiting for a response before shutting my mic off, putting the ‘BRB‘ graphic on my stream and yanking the headset off. I basically run down the hall to Corpse’s recording room, my heart pounding like a bass drum.

“Corpse?!“ I call out to him, one hand already on the doorknob. When five seconds pass by without a response, I barge in.

Inside, I find his usual spot on the gaming chair empty and his slumped figure seated on his bed.

“Corpse?“ I try again, watching for even the tiniest change of body language. He remains still as a statue, not bothering to look up at me either.

His hands are gripping the edge of the mattress, his head hanging low. His eyes are covered by the short curtain of his dark messy curls. I can’t gauge much. Is he angry? Is he sad? Both? How should I approach the situation?

Before I find the answer to any of those questions, I am kneeling in front of him, our height difference eliminated. I gently pry his hands off the mattress and take them in mine, holding them firmly but tenderly. With one hand I reach up to tilt his head so his eyes can meet mine. He complies, his tear-filled brown orbs meeting mine. Those tears have the same effect on me as fifty sharp knives stabbing into my chest. These tears focus their attack straight on my heart, tearing it to pieces.

“Baby....“

He cuts me off, “Why is it always someone else, huh? Do they deem me not worthy of being with you? Do they think you deserve better?” His voice wavers, “Well, they might be right. They are correct and there’s little I can do to prove them wrong. They mean you well, Y/N - pairing you with guys better than me. Those are some loyal fans you’ve got. They only want what’s best for you. And so do I. If ‘best’ is being with someone else then...”

It’s my turn to cut him off. I put an end to his nonsense ramble that’s slowly killing me by pressing my finger against his lips. The sternness of my gaze is beyond me as I get up and walk over to his computer setup. I put on his headset and hop into the call as well as the lobby with his avatar.

“Hey Corpse’s back!” Toast says, “Good to have you back buddy.”

“No, not Corpse.” I say in a casual, nonchalant voice.

“Wait, wha-“ Sean’s voice shows just how confused he is, representing the confusion of the entire lobby actually.

“I know all of you are streaming so this message will be heard by several different audiences so I’m gonna make myself perfectly clear.“ I take a deep breath, “Sykkuno and I aren’t dating. He’s a lovely guy and he deserves to find a girl who will treat him right. That girl isn’t and won’t be me though. I am already treating someone right. Someone who treats me more than right as well. An amazing person. A man-child with a heart of gold. You know him, to a certain extent. He goes by the name of Corpse Husband, but I prefer to call him ‘Love of my life’. Thank you for your time and attention, goodbye.“

I exit the call and turn around to find a stunned Copse looking at me.

“That was meant for you just as much.“ I say with a fake strict attitude, one hand on my hip the other rested on his desk behind me, “Were you listening?“

Within milliseconds, he’s on his feet standing directly in front of me, his lips inches away from mine. “I heard and memorized every word. But...” he pauses for a moment, “I think you have no idea how big of a chaos you just created.”

I smile mischievously, “We’ll worry about that later. For now...” I close the gap between us, connecting our lips in a sweet and passionate kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @itsminniekat @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @the-fuck-up-of-today @slashersdream @chiefwombathoagiepizza @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01

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griffintail · 3 years

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Hello! So I was new at your blog and I feel like ive discovered the 9th cloud of heaven 🤯 so I don't know if youre in the mood but i loved your technoblade child reader fics and i really wanted to ask if you could write a overprotective!tecnho x f!child reader? i feel like it sucks so im not pushing you to do it-

I probably took it a different way than what you were thinking but I hope you still enjoy!

Utmost Care

Pairing: Technoblade X F! Reader

Warnings: Overprotective nature, Light Angst, Mentions of Swords, Mentions of Scars

~~~~~~~~~~~

Techno didn’t hold a lot of things with value but when he finally did, they were protected with the utmost care. That goes the same for living beings. His daughter certainly was one of those beings.

All of (Y/N)’s life, Techno always kept his eye on her or made someone he trusted with his life was watching her, meaning only he or Phil watched her. If Phil couldn’t watch her at the time, Techno then took her with him, keeping her close the entire time. And, if (Y/N) could tell the truth, as she got older, it was tiring.

She was thirteen years old but she wasn’t allowed to go off on her own. She either had to go with Techno and Phil, the only time she could be alone was in her own room. It was extremely tiring when she couldn’t learn new things that could be considered dangerous. Techno wouldn’t teach her to fight or brew or enchant because he said she’d never need it.

She just wanted to do something without the need for approval. She just wanted to be her own person and live her life as she wanted.

So…that’s how she started sneaking out hours at a time. She was only allowed her own peace and quiet in her room? Alright, she used that to her advantage and locked her door when she knew Techno was busy either tending to things and wouldn’t check on her for hours. When she left, she went to the one place she knew mischief was encouraged.

“Uncle Tommy!” (Y/N) grinned as she walked in the door.

“Here comes trouble!” Tommy grinned.

Tommy indeed encouraged the things Techno considered bad. He helped teach the girl how to fight, taught her to brew, showed her a few things with enchanting, and most certainly let her go off on her own around L’Manberg or the SMP, though he did warn her to be more careful in the SMP lands.

(Y/N) felt free and felt like her own person finally without a weight of watchful eye on her.

It was one of those days once more. Tommy was teaching (Y/N) the ways of the sword.

“Come on, stop trying to hit me and hit me!” Tommy grinned cheekily, then yelping as (Y/N) swung as hard as she could with a smirk.

It was just another day for the pair, they just didn’t know it wasn’t another day for Techno. (Y/N) always left when Techno was on his own because he did get distracted when Phil was around or Phil tended to help him. So, if Phil was around, going out was a no-go. Phil usually showed up in the early mornings so she could tell if she could sneak out pretty early in the day.

But, today, Phil had been held up in L’Manberg and came late.

“Hey mate!” Phil called as he walked over to Techno’s.

“Phil, you’re pretty late,” Techno said.

“Yeah, had to help with some things in L’Manberg first.” Phil shrugged. “Farming all by yourself today?”

“(Y/N) said she wanted to read and she might come out later,” Techno told him as they went into the house, Techno resting his hoe by the door. “(Y/N)! The old man’s here.”

“Fuck off mate.” Phil laughed.

Techno smirked as he cleaned off his hands but frowned when he heard no movement in the rooms above.

“(Y/N)!” Techno called once more.

“She might be sleeping in, let her be.” Phil waved it off. “She’s alright.”

But the voices whispered worry, only fueling Techno’s.

“She doesn’t usually sleep in. I’m going to check on her.” Techno said before going up the ladder.

He went to (Y/N)’s room knocking, but there was once more silence. He didn’t like that.

“(Y/N).” He said trying the door handle, but found it locked. “What the-Hey. What’s with the locked door?”

“Techno?” Phil called up concerned by the conversation he was hearing.

She wasn’t saying anything though and the voices whispered panic and Techno reacted. He took a step back before kicking in the door. Phil jumped before quickly coming up the ladder as Techno went into the room.

“Techno!” Phil shouted as he followed after.

Techno’s breath came quicker out of his nose as Phil came in.

“(Y/N)’s not here. Someone took her.” Techno moved past Phil.

Phil looked at his son leaving the room before looking at the teenager’s room. The only mess was the door but (Y/N) indeed wasn’t here and his wings puffed before he rapidly following after Techno.

“You know, the last thing I thought Techno would do was not teach you how to use a sword,” Tommy said as he leaned back on the bench overlooking the river below his base.

(Y/N) sat next to him, both of their training swords laying down close by.

“I always ask him to teach me but he just tells me I don’t need to learn how to fight. I’ll be fine.” She huffed. “What am I going to do if a mob manages to get in? Can you imagine if a creeper managed to come into our house? It could just blow me and the house up because I couldn’t do anything, I might as well just stand still.”

“Ah, he’s always had a stick up his ass.” Tommy waved his hand. “And an ego. He probably thinks he can keep everything from hurting you.”

“But that’s the point uncle Tommy!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “If he taught me, it’s almost a guarantee I won’t get hurt. I could protect myself and go out and meet people. Do whatever I want.”

“He’ll figure it out eventually,” Tommy assured her.

“Alright!”

Both of them jumped as they looked around wildly, Tommy giving a scream, hearing the voice of said man. Then, a moment later, they realized it was their walkies and shared a look.

“Whoever has my kid can bring her back now and have a painless death.”

“Uh oh.” They both muttered.

(Y/N) scrambled to get her things as Tommy stood up in a panic.

“Bye!” (Y/N) shouted before sprinting towards home.

How the hell was she supposed to explain this? Oh no dad, I just decided to wander in the forest with no warm clothes?

“It’s going to be a shitty day.” She muttered as she slipped into the portal and sprinted down the pathway towards the home portal.

Deciding it was better before her father started searching homes, she took out her walkie.

“Dad!” She spoke. “What’s the problem?”

Techno froze in his path, looking at Phil before taking off his walkie. “(Y/N), where are you right now?”

“I just…went for a little walk. My legs were starting to cramp up.” She lied, wincing slightly.

“Your door was locked (Y/N). What happened?”

“I don’t know the door handle must have broke.” She tried as she felt relief seeing the home portal.

“(Y/N), what’s going on?” Techno asked in frustration.

None of this was adding up. What the hell was going on?

“Nothing dad, everything is—” She stepped out of the portal and froze when she was met with two netherite decorated family members. “Fine…”

Phil’s eyes were wide as Techno stood there quiet for a moment.

…

“YOU WENT IN THE NETHER!?” Techno shouted throwing up his arms.

“Dad, look I can explain—” She tried.

“No! I-What were you thinking?!”

“I—”

Techno looked her over. “Is that a sword?! What—You don’t fight! What the hell were you doing?!”

“Look—”

“Mate—” Phil tried to even cut in.

“No! We’re going home.”

Techno went to grab her arm but she moved back.

“LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE!” (Y/N) shouted as she shook.

Techno stood in shock as Phil took a step back, this was between father and daughter.

“I-I-Yes! I snuck out! And yes! I have a sword! But its-I just wanted to live for once! You don’t let me go out on my own! You don’t let me train or learn anything you do! I stay at home! And read and learn about farming and crafting basic ass shit! And that’s it! If I’m lucky I get to go out to the village with you keeping a close ass eye on me! And I’m tired of it!”

Techno was quiet as (Y/N) took deep breaths before he came towards her.

“You know that to keep you safe.”

“Oh, shove it, dad! What’s the point of being safe when I don’t know anything! I felt like I was going crazy and I-I can’t do that anymore daddy. I can’t.”

(Y/N) had tears in her eyes. She hated it; she was so tired of it. She was so tired.

Techno was stood in shock hesitating before coming over and hugging her tightly.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered to her. “I…I didn’t know it was hurting so much…”

It was a bit awkward of a hug with his armor on but (Y/N) hugged him back regardless.

Techno had wanted to just keep her safe. He had so many enemies and seen so many things in his life…He just didn’t want his little girl to see all the same things he had and he didn’t want her to carry the same scars. But all the while, it seemed he was hurting her in a different way.

“I’m sorry. We’ll figure it out, ok?”

“Please.” She nodded.

He’ll figure it out, he’ll still make sure she was safe, but he’d figure it out for his little girl to be happy…

====================================

General Taglist: @devilchicc @technoblades-sword

(WHY CAN"T I TAG YOU)

#technoblade x reader #mcyt reader insert #mcyt oneshots #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #dreamsmp x reader

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writing-in-april · 4 years

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Bowling Ball Baby

Franklin x Female Pregnant Reader

(Franklin is MGG’s character from beginner’s luck)

Gif courtesy of the ever wonderful @imagining-in-the-margins

A/N: I have recently become obsessed with Franklin because of @httpnxtt and @sunlight-moonrise so I decided to write some fluff with a dash of angst for him. I also have smut upcoming for this character as well. Thanks to my beta readers @sunlight-moonrise and @definitelynotkatesblog y’all are amazing!

Warnings: Fluff with a dash of angst, marital dispute at the beginning (is later resolved, and a few swear words.

Masterlist Word count: 1.9k (this was supposed to be a blurb lol)

Fighting with Franklin always left me at rock bottom. We both had feisty personalities but still didn’t fight often, usually just scathing quips when we were irritated. On the rare occasions when we did explode into a fight it was full of screaming, crying, and hurtful comments. Our tempers had been close to boiling over for a while now, my pregnancy hormones were making me extremely irritable and Franklin’s feisty demeanor didn’t exactly mesh well with that.

My 8 month pregnant belly felt like I was lugging around a bowling ball constantly, my back felt like it was being broken everyday. I constantly felt like I was standing on pins and needles, plus the baby felt the need to show me just how strong she or he was by kicking me in the ribs.

The fight had started after Franklin came home from work, I was sitting on our couch with my feet propped up and covered in an ice pack to relieve some of the stinging pain. Unfortunately for my poor swollen feet the ice pack did little to dull the throbbing.

“Hey, Frankie?” I called, hoping I could convince him to swap out the thawing ice pack for a frozen bag of peas.

“Not now, I’m busy.” He answered shortly, his back facing away from me, not fully acknowledging my presence. He was usually extra irritable after work; he felt trapped in his job, like it was holding him back from his dream of bowling professionally..

I huffed loudly, not that he could hear it from the other room, doing god knows what. He returned in a rush with his bowling ball bag in his hand, headed for the door, his Big Z Tires shirt hastily thrown on. My mouth fell open when I realized he was leaving for the alley.

“You’re leaving?” I squeaked, watching him while he hastily shoved a bagel in his mouth.

“I’ve got to go to practice” he muffled around a mouthful, sounding annoyed. I always supported Franklin and his dreams of being the best bowler in Little Falls, but this time I wasn’t going to let him escape his responsibilities of our relationship so easily.

“Could you skip today?” Treading lightly by asking softly. “We haven’t spent any time with each other in like a month and even then it was at the alley.”

His face switched from being annoyed to enraged despite my asking nicely, he was still going to get pissed off- figures.

“How could you be so inconsiderate- you know how important this is to me and the whole town!” he yelled. I was spooked but quickly composed myself before replying.

“I’m not being inconsiderate, you're never here.” I stated in a deadly tone, I didn’t want to make this worse by joining in on his raised voice. “I understand it’s the most important thing in Little Falls, but shouldn’t our baby be more important to you?!”

All I got in response was a dismissive scoff. I could feel myself getting angrier, we’d both said we wanted a baby and for the past month he acted like he couldn’t care less.

“You might as well go move into the bowling alley.” I mumbled under my breath, fiery spite fueling my words.

“Even with the pins, it’d still be quieter than your nagging.” he shot back.

“Excuse me?!” Now it was my turn to shout; he just had to continue to stoke the fire increasing in my belly. I waddled my way to stand right in front of him, ignoring the pain of my swollen feet. I didn't want him to wiggle his way out, if he wanted an argument he was going to get one, he was the one who started it after all.

“All you’ve done is whined and complained these past few weeks.” He was acting like a hypocrite, whining and complaining to me about something we both agreed to do together. I had never felt more alone.

“How would you know? You’re never here to spend time with me!” The timbre of my voice cracked as my heart started to shatter.

“Just stop, ok? I get it you’re pregnant but come on Y/N it can’t take that much hard work!” That comment was the straw that broke the camel's back, my anger turned to melancholy as hot tears spilled over onto my cheeks as I waddled away as fast as I could back to our bedroom.

I could hear his desperate voice trying to get me to come back, offering any pleading or begging he could think of, but I wasn’t having it. As I got to our room I slammed the door shut, making sure to lock it tight so he couldn’t follow me. If he wanted to act like a dick, he'll sleep on the couch for the night. Knocks started to hit the door with his voice barely permeating through the wood imploring me to let him in.

Tears fell down my cheeks while I rubbed my belly, all I wanted was for us to be a happy family, but I needed Franklin to be fully committed. Sinking down onto our bed I contemplated where this left us. I almost packed a bag to stay with a friend for the night but I was too tired to go through with it, the fighting had taken all the energy out of me. The mattress cuddled my body but it wasn’t as good as Franklin, which only made the drops fall harder. My sadness deepened when the knocks stopped, the room now a void, offering no comfort to me. Dread sat in my belly as I drifted off into a restless sleep.

~~~

Physically and emotionally I was strung out, I was in no mood to talk or argue so I had been tiptoeing around Franklin all day, his behavior had made me seriously start to question if he was truly invested in our relationship. Once dinner rolled around I padded my way into the kitchen, the baby had been craving some sweets and I was highly considering just binging on candy.

I glanced over to the stove to find a ridiculous sight standing before me. Franklin had his bowling shirt on- he honestly rarely took it off and had about 5 of them. Covering most of the front of his yellow button up was a baby sling I had bought a few weeks ago in preparation, in it sat my old purple bowling ball I used when I was in Highschool. He must’ve dug it out of our closet as I hadn’t used it since our last competition senior year. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I reminisced about the old team where we’d first met. I gazed at the 8 pound perfectly round ball, weighing down and stretching the fabric directly in the middle, it looked exactly like what you’d think a bowling ball in a baby sling would look- ridiculous.

“I remember you saying you’ve been craving something sweet so I decided to make pancakes for dinner, I even added chocolate chips.” He spoke, breaking me out of my memory. I hadn’t even noticed he was making pancakes, my focus on the bowling ball strapped to his stomach.

“We’re not going to talk about the bowling ball?”

“Well I was being a dick-” I swiftly cut him off. My rage was being stoked slightly by his whimsical attitude, I couldn’t tell if he was trying to cheer me up or was really that thick and couldn’t understand my frustrations.

“Yeah, that’s the understatement of the century.” I’m sure the steely edge to my tone was not lost on Franklin, and I still wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of eye contact.

“Like I was saying- I was being a dick and I was thinking to myself, ‘Frankie she’s carrying the weight of the relationship right now. You want to get inside a woman’s head? You become a woman.’ So I thought I’d join you in solidarity- as an apology.”

Silence filled my part of the conversation as I pondered his words. It certainly was an odd way for someone to make up a fight, usually people bought flowers, chocolate, or go on a fancy date. Franklin, however, always had a way of apologizing in the most obnoxious and ridiculous ways that were incredibly sweet, but also made me want to bang my head against the wall. He had stopped flipping the pancakes, anxiously awaiting my reply to his apology. The slight char they were getting wafted a burnt smell through the air.

“This is the first thing you thought of for an apology?” I giggled out breaking the tense silence, his shoulders relaxed as he let out an audible puff of breath. I may have found this funny but I wasn’t going to let him off the hook just yet.

“Well- you know me, I’m not very good at apologies.” He said in a regretful tone, turning back to the pancakes finally removing the almost carbonized pancake from the skillet. A cringe made its way onto his face after catching sight of the rubbery burnt cake and swiftly chucked it in the trash. “I really am sorry Y/N.”

“You’re saying that now because your back hurts- Am I right?” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, still not fully accepting this apology.

“No, that’s not the main reason I’m apologizing, but yes, oh my god my back fucking hurts.” His right hand started to massage his sore back as his other poured in the last scrapes of pancakes, sprinkling it with an exorbitant amount of chocolate chips. My mouth was watering at the sight and delicious aroma.

“How long have you been wearing it?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the heavenly scent.

“Like 10 minutes, I totally understand why you waddle now” Flipping over the last pancake, he started to set the table, his waddles were even more awkward compared to mine because of his long limbs.

“Well now that you understand, you’d better be massaging my feet everyday to make up for it.” I sharply stated though I couldn’t help but slip in a few giggles in between. I had been carrying this baby close to 9 months and Franklin could barely handle 10 minutes without keeling over.

“Yes, of course. I promise.” He set the plates of pancakes down on our round table, then pulled out one of the chairs and helped me sit down. I noticed that he had even set up the silverware in its supposed proper place along with the napkins folded into little triangles, he did go all out to make it up to me.“You know, you're the actual god in this family.” He remarked as he slung off the baby sling, relieving the tension from his back. I wished I could do the same.

“I love you, you big weirdo.” I snorted in response. While his godliness was usually referring to his bowling skills, it was nice to have my literal creation and carrying of life inside of me acknowledged too.

“I love you too” He wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing soft kisses to my neck and rubbing my belly, silently assuring me that everything would be alright.

#franklin #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #franklin x reader #mgg #mgg fluff #mgg x reader #beginner’s luck #franklin imagine #franklin fanfic #franklin fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fic

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fuji09 · 3 years

Text

I have made some incredible friends over the past year thanks to the IT fandom, I know I have been distant, but I think about y'all every single day.

@bimmyshrug I just don't even know how to express how amazing you are. Because of you I met so many other people on here. I sent you anon messages for months before I finally had the courage to message you off anon and I never thought I would actually get to be lucky enough to even be noticed by you, let alone call you a friend. You inspired me to take on my darker side of writing, if not for you, I probably would still be writing all fluff, which isn't bad, but angst can be something that is just so personal.

@flowersonmymind1016 where do I even begin? You have encouraged me to be a better writer, you have been an amazing beta reader for me, and reading your works motivates me to write. You are super sweet and always there when I need a friend. I try my best to return the favor, and hopefully one day we can actually meet in person, if cons ever come back, maybe we can meet PJ Ransone together.

@nblesbianbenhanscom can I even put into words how much you mean to me? Every single time I post something sad you ALWAYS check on me. I wish I could tell you how much that means to me. I can talk to you about stuff and you don't judge and you help educate me. I don't know what I did to deserve such an amazing friend, but I'm glad I have you in my life. ily, all the homo. ❤🧡💛💚💙💜

@stunt-lads my dude, you fuel my love for Bill Hader, you provide me with the dankest of memes (usually about Bill Hader), and you just make me smile so much. I would die for you. Also the photos of your dog always bring a smile to my face.

@ull-float-too dude, you are such a great person, I love our running joke of co-parenting our friends in the servers we are in. You make me laugh a lot and group chats are always brighter when you're around.

@thatmalu Ren, you have a heart of gold and you're super smart. I feel like I've learned a lot from you, random shit and important shit. You have that momma bear vibe that is just so comforting and safe.

@ghostnebula my sweet Canadian friend who never ceases to blow my mind in some way in the things that are different up there. I appreciate you, when you checked up on me when I got triggered from watching Dead Poet's Society, I was so grateful to have our friendship. It meant a lot that you cared and wanted to make sure I was ok. You have helped me learn about Indigenous cultures, being part Native is something amazing to share with a friend. The blood of different tribes runs through our veins, but I still consider you a part of my Native family.

@richieblows being friends with you is such a wild ride and I love it. I never know what to expect and things are always exciting. You are so kind and a joy to be around, well virtually around, you know what I mean.

@pohjanneito I love that I can always talk Patrick/Richie stuff with you, you get the problematic love for that ship as much as I do and it's wonderful. I never have to worry about you finding it weird when I gush about them. You have inspired a lot of fics I have planned and some current WIPs I have.

@whorefrombabylon how are you so cool? Like I feel so uncool compared to you and yet you give me attention and I'm just a happy little loser. If you told me to jump off a bridge I probably would lol, but for real, I can't believe I can just talk to you.

@blueeyedrichie I love our interactions, you are another person that I feel like is the popular kid and I'm lucky to be graced with your attention. You are such a talented writer and have amazing ideas. Your creativity is a beautiful thing. I still get shy trying to talk to you. 😅

@tonyofthetrees you are just an adorable person, seriously, how are you so awesome? Your art gives me life, I literally ascend to heaven each time you post something new. You are so talented and I hope you know that.

@sloppybitchreddie I live for when we talk theories for IT, even if its usually reblogging posts and adding in our thoughts, I always know I'm going to read well thought out words from you and its the best. You notice the small things and I love it.

@slowlimbs both introverts who adopted each other, like that is the life! I love how we were just like, "Friends? Friends!" Literally the easiest start to a friendship I've ever had! I enjoy talking to you and you make me feel at ease. We are a lot alike and that's so cool, although I'm sorry you had to be a lot like me, I'm a lame potato. 🥔

@liamannt Liam! I literally yell your name in my head when I type it. I miss having you in the fandom, you have always been so sweet and I'm really glad I've been able to get to know you. You're an amazing artist.

@aintguiltyy I love talking movies and shows with you! Especially when I get to explain stuff to you! It let's me channel the hyperactivity in my brain and I get to talk deep about the stuff I love. You're so sweet and the times you have checked on me when I was down were so meaningful to me.

@creamykaspbrak you are the sweetest, just like I can't even handle how sweet you are. You write amazing filthy smut and your AUs for Reddie feed my depraved soul. I can't get enough!

#fuji rants #i love my friends #the IT fandom gave me friends #i love yall #seriously yall mean the world to me

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 3 years

Text

F**k and Run

Inspired by the Liz Phair song of the same name. Such angst.

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC

Word count: 2,636

Content advisory: sexual references

I woke up alarmed/ I didn’t know where I was at first/ just that I woke up in your arms/ and almost immediately I felt sorry

This. Is. Not. Your. Room. It is not your bed. These are not your sheets. And that odd ochre shade of paint on the wall that greets you when you open your eyes, a color that seems like a projection of the hangover you’re feeling, is most definitely not your choice of decor. You can tell by the light streaming in from somewhere behind you that it’s morning but outside, someone is blaring WAP. That can’t be endearing them to the neighbors, whoever they are, and it’s certainly not making you feel any better because thinking about moving, bouncing, riding… It’s not what you want right now.

You can tell, though, that it was exactly what you were doing a few hours ago. You have all the pleasant aches that come from a lusty romp and as you cast your mind back, you realize that you’ve been in this room with its bright morning light and ugly paint before. You don’t need to roll over to confirm the identity of the warm body pressed close to yours because you can feel the fragments of the night shaking loose. This is a very mixed blessing.

You’d met up with Susan after you’d both gotten off work and headed to the Canopy Bar. No, under the circumstances, it wasn’t a great idea to hit a bar filled with people, many of whom were tourists and almost none of whom were wearing masks, but it had been ages since either of you had gone out and it was like your bones were aching for it. Besides, the hotel was miserable, with clients getting angry at having to sanitize hands and wear masks, while others got mad because the restaurant didn’t require people to have masks on while they ate. You and Susan had gotten your first vaccine and even though you knew you were supposed to wait until you got the second before re-entering the social world, impatience and youthful stupidity had taken over.

So the two of you ditched your work clothes and headed down the beach to the covered open-air bar that always seemed to mean a good time. They had heaters at the tables to disguise the fact that it was not exactly beach weather but after a couple of cocktails, it might as well have been the 4th of July.

You feel the body behind you shift a little, his face close to your hair. He gives a contented little sigh and slides one arm over your hip. His fingers press against a tender spot that you assume he made the night before, when he’d been digging into your flesh so hard, slamming into you as you rode him, that you thought he might break the skin. He’s still half asleep. At least half. When he wakes up, it’s going to be a different thing.

Kenny. You don’t need to look at him to picture that deceptively angelic face with its sparkling blue eyes, or his body that looks like it descended from Mount Olympus. And you certainly don’t need help remembering his name, which is more than you can say for him, which is, funnily enough, the thing that started the chain of events that ended with you back here again.

You’d spotted him with some friends at the bar, which seemed strange because you remembered from the first time you met him that he wasn’t a drinker. Like, at all. But he was clearly relaxed and enjoying himself, enjoying how he was so obviously the center of attention at his table, and in particular that he was the focus of a very beautiful, elegant woman seated directly across from him. One look and you knew he was on the make and you felt the bile rise in your throat because as far as you were concerned, you hadn’t finished the cycle of things between the two of you. There wasn’t actually anything sustained between the two of you, of course, but it definitely felt like there was something unfinished.

Whatever happened to a boyfriend?/ The kind of guy who tries to win you over/ Whatever happened to a boyfriend?/ The kind of guy who makes love ‘cause he’s in it

You’d met Kenny a little over a month ago at The Canopy Bar and the two of you had ended up going back to his place. And it had been good. Damn, it had been good. He’d been effusive with his praise and compliments and he’d been sweet as the two of you drifted off to sleep. When you’d woken up, he’d taken you to get coffee from a pick up wagon and the two of you had hung out and chatted about pet stories and his time in Japan, a place you’d dreamed about visiting for years.

Had you been thinking “relationship”? No. But it didn’t feel like a one night stand and god knows you’d gone through enough of those in the past couple of years to judge. You’d texted him a day or two later and suggested meeting up for a coffee at a place you liked and he’d responded within a couple of hours that he’d like that. You’d ended up setting a non-date date for the following week, which turned into you sitting at an outside table at the cafe for three hours. You’d tried texting and calling and had heard nothing. After about half an hour, you’d realized that you should leave and get on with the process of feeling resentful at being stood up. But you’d lingered because it didn’t feel like things were over. It felt like the night you’d spent together had been something a little bit special.

Of course, you hadn’t been so sad as to keep trying to contact him after he stood you up, but you felt the memory of what had happened sticking to you like nettles. You just hadn’t had the opportunity to do anything about it last night and what you’d done about it, powered by a few stiff cocktails and a sense of indignation was march up and sit down next to him.

“Well look who’s here,” you sneered, wanting him to know that he had some making up to do. “What the hell was with you no-showing?”

“Oh yeah, sorry about that,” he shrugged. “I was busy or something and I figured it wasn’t a big deal.”

“You know it’s considered polite to let someone know when you can’t make it to meet them.”

“Yeah, I guess that was shitty of me.” He gave a cheeky grin. “Sorry about that.”

He looked like he’s about to turn back to his friends and the doe-eyed beauty who looked a little too amused at how upset you obviously are, so you gripped his bicep to keep him focused on you.

“Seriously, what made you not show up? If you didn’t want to meet me, you could have just said so. Or you could have canceled.”

“I mean it, I’m sorry.”

He was infuriatingly nonchalant about this, which made you angrier than you had been when you came over. In fact, it seemed like he was getting a bit of a kick out of the fact that you were angry.

“This is Hikaru,” he said, motioning to the woman on the other side of the table. “Hikaru, this is… Shit, I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”

You felt a surge of fury and humiliation mingled together, twisted with the fact that you could tell he was lying.

“Ha ha. You know my name.”

“No, really, I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten it.”

Even through your alcohol-fueled haze, you felt like you had a very clear grip on the moment. You could tell looking in his eyes that you were right: he knew perfectly well who you were and what your name was. But he was committed to the pretence that he didn’t. Maybe it was because he wanted to be left alone with this new girl. Maybe it was because you were making him nervous.

“Whatever,” you growled. “You can go fuck yourself.”

You made your way back to Susan and thought about running away with your tail between your legs but almost immediately dismissed the idea. To hell with that guy. You’d been having a good time before you saw him and you weren’t going to let him ruin that. You couldn’t start ceding public spaces to assholes. So you hit the dance floor with your friend and the two of you enjoyed the attention you generated, the eyes trailing over you, even the drunk college boys who tried their damnedest to be charming.

After a while, you were aware that someone was lurking nearby, close to you without trying to engage you, seemingly happy to dance by himself and lap up the attention he was getting. His friend Hikaru wasn’t with him, although you saw her a couple of times during the next couple of hours, always looking at him, always looking like she was waiting.

Finally, he was close enough that he leaned over and spoke directly into your ear.

“Guess I’m heading out. Thanks for the laugh, though, stranger.”

You whirled, half inclined to punch him in the nose.

“What the fuck is your problem? You think you can just be rude and act like that to me and it’s funny?”

“Ok, sorry, it was nice seeing you again.” He gave a little laugh and wiggled his eyebrows as he started to move away, his expression somehow inviting you to follow him.

Susan grabbed hold of your arm and tried to steer you away but you disconnected from her, assuring her that you just needed to say a few things to this jerk.

So you trailed after him, yelling some insults and waiting for him to hightail it. But every time you’d dragged your feet a little, he’d slowed down too.

“Ok,” he sighed as you stepped away from the bar and onto the beach, “you’re right, I remember your name. I was just being a shit.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Was that because you were trying to hit on Hikaru?”

“No. I think she has a bit of a thing for me.”

He started walking in the direction you remembered he lived in.

“You coming?” He called back, obviously loving how aggravated you were at his cockiness.

You almost felt bad/ you said that I should call you up/ but I knew much better than that

Finally, you roll over to look at him. He has his hand over his eyes to shield them from the light streaming in. The window is a semi-skylight built into the roof of the place. The light it gives is probably gorgeous when you’re not trying to sleep off a hangover. He gives you a tired smile without looking you in the eye and pulls you close to him for a few seconds.

“I have to get ready for work. Sorry about that.”

“No worries.”

He sits up and as he does, it occurs to you that he’s actively avoiding looking at you, like you’re going to turn him to a pillar of salt or worse.

“It was cool seeing you again,” he says quietly.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about the yelling and everything.”

“I deserved it.”

“Yes you did. But I’m sorry if it makes things awkward for you and your friends.”

You sit up, letting the bedcovers fall from your body as you survey the room for your hastily discarded clothes. Angry sex is disorderly sex and there are bits of you strewn around the place. It takes you a few seconds to realize that he’s just standing at the top of the stairs leading down from his sleeping loft, watching you.

He makes as if he’s about to say something but it dies unspoken, so there’s just a long, strange look between you. And this time you’re absolutely certain that this does not feel like a one night stand, or a two night stand, for either of you. There’s an electricity that passes from his eyes to yours and back, the kind of thing that gives you butterflies in your stomach. The kind of thing that’s going to continue to bring butterflies when you think about it over the coming weeks or longer.

“I’m just gonna jump in the shower for a couple of minutes,” he says finally. “You want to have one?”

“No, I’m ok. I’ll just grab one at home.”

He nods and leaves and you wonder if you’re even supposed to be here when he gets back. You slowly gather up your belongings and get dressed, enjoying the little twinges you feel stretching your muscles out. Those make your stomach flip too.

You make your way downstairs, hoping that you can at least snag a cup of coffee before leaving but the second your feet hit the final few stairs to the ground floor, you wish you’d stayed in his room.

There are a few men milling around, a couple of guys with shaved heads and goatees, one of whom looks like a runaway extra from Sons of Anarchy. With them is an older, well-dressed man wearing sunglasses even though he’s in the house. You can’t decide if it’s just discomfort or if you genuinely dislike them at first sight. One thing is for certain, they seem unsurprised to see a woman appear from above.

“Hi,” you rasp, unsure if you’re supposed to introduce yourself or allow them to pretend you’re not there. It seems like they’d prefer the latter option. “Is there any coffee?”

“Yeah, kitchen,” the older man directs you thrusting his chin in the right direction.

You pour yourself a generous mug and decide that hiding out in the kitchen is the best plan for now. After a few minutes, you hear Kenny’s voice greeting the others, sounding just a little surprised that they’re there. They all seem boisterous and loud but you hear the voices drop for a second just before Kenny replies, “In the kitchen? Ok, just give me a minute.”

You gulp as much of your coffee as you can and square your shoulders so that you look more like someone who was just about to leave as he enters the room.

“Hey, sorry if they surprised you,” he offers sheepishly.

“No, it’s no problem. I helped myself to coffee, I hope that’s alright.”

“Oh, for sure. Take your time.”

“No, no, I was just leaving. I have a bunch of shit to do today.”

“Yeah, for sure, me too.” He pauses before giving you a quick hug, pulling back just at the moment that it feels he’s about to let himself melt into it. “So we should totally do that coffee date sometime.”

“Definitely. You know, whenever your schedule is…”

“For sure. I mean, I’ll call you.”

And as your awkward, staccato conversation stutters to a silence, your eyes meet again for a long moment and it’s like you’re both mourning for something that needn’t be as doomed as it is.

“Thanks for last night,” you tell him, as cheerfully as you can manage.

“Hey, thank you. It was great.”

He shows you to the door and leans in to press a kiss to your cheek as you step over the threshold. The gesture seems to hang in suspended animation, your faces pressed together and your lips resting on each other’s skin. But then the moment passes and it’s like the butterflies in your stomach rise and flutter away all at once into the bright morning sun.

I can feel it in my bones/ I’m gonna spend my whole life alone

#kenny omega imagine #kenny omega fanfiction #aew fanfiction #aew imagine #wrestling fanfiction #wayward wrestle writing

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for-i-am-dying-of-such-love · 4 years

Text

that time I watched Antony + Cleopatra

I don’t even know where to start with this one. Please don’t mistake my criticism of the episode with my hating it, because I actually think there’s a lot going on here with Xena (and Gabrielle too, but I am less focused on her arc) that’s quite nuanced and compelling. I love that Xena’s role in orchestrating Marc Antony’s downfall contributes to her moral and emotional conflict. What I abhor (and refuse to accept) is the suggestion that it’s born out of her falling in *love* with him, especially when there are far more consequential things in Xena’s life, past and present, fueling her angst in this moment. I have my own reading of what’s causing Xena’s uneasiness here, but more on that in a bit.

First: I think my greatest frustration is with the show itself. Like, THE FUCKING AUDACITY to foist a Boyfriend of the Week on us with just a handful of episodes left in season five. After everything, *everything*, that Xena & Gabrielle have suffered through (actual, literal HELL), and the continued devotion they show for one another, it’s just not believable that Xena would fall in love with someone else, let alone a ROMAN GENERAL. The emphasis here is important, but patience grasshopper, I’ll get to that.

Now, here’s where we start to get into the weeds with this notion of ‘Xena falling in love’ and there’s a lot to unpack around it, but before I do, let me just finish unspooling the threads of frustration I have with the show and it’s AUDACITY. Because it’s important to note that the show’s intention *was* to frame Xena’s attraction for Marc Antony as romantic - on top of whatever else she may have initially felt (indifference, intrigue, lust) - and not just sexual. And while I’ll concede that a story where Xena is forced to sacrifice her heart for the greater good by killing the man she loves is intriguing, it’s one we’ve already seen (Immortal Beloved). More than that, it’s a story that doesn’t fit with the Xena we know now, and the show, better than anyone, should have recognized this.

I know I’m being hard on the show runners here, so allow me this small tangent to give a little contextual understanding before furthering my arguments. As much fun as it is wrestling with the internal logic of this show (a surprisingly uphill battle all the time), I understand the unfortunate truth is that character motivations don’t always drive the story in the ways you would expect. Sometimes external factors complicate the stories XWP wants to tell and the ways it’s *allowed* to tell them. I get that.

I also get that Xena: Warrior Princess - both the show and the character - was expected to be sexy (hello, an easy win because Xena & Gabrielle). And that means, from time to time, it had to tease the audience with sex and seduction and romance (I guess fighting demons in Hell for the soul of your SOULMATE is not romantic enough, but I DIGRESS). What that often translated as on screen was a parade of Boyfriends of the Week for our two favourite Gal Pals, and by this point in the show, well, frankly it had been a while since Xena had had her a boyfriend (the Ares arc in season 5 doesn’t count). Simply put: a Marc Antony type was past due.

In this case, he wasn’t just past due, he served a dual purpose - fulfilling their Boyfriend of the Week quota, but also helping to re-establish Xena’s sexuality after she’d had her baby. I happen to think the latter take is overly simplistic and misguided (because, what, pregnant women are not also capable of being sexual creatures?), but it’s something Rob Tapert has commented on. So, ok, sure, fine whatever.

To be fair, I’m not sure if the show was deliberately signalling the return of Sexualized!Xena, or if it was simply a byproduct of the chemistry between the characters, and the inherent sensuality of the story’s setting. Regardless, the end result was certainly titillating. And I get it. I get why they want Boyfriends of the Week sometimes. Sex sells, and this episode was a blockbuster.

And before I return again to being hard on the show runners about dumb boyfriends, I just want to point out that my specific problem isn’t that Xena has been given a *boy*friend. Xena is bisexual, so men are always going to be an option when she’s considering a romantic or sexual partner. My issue is that she’s considering *any* romantic partner at all! By the gods, she’s essentially married to Gabrielle at this point.

Ay, but there’s the rub. Because the same expectation that dictated XWP should be sexy, also dictated that it should be heteronormative. The show can repeatedly double down on Xena’s & Gabrielle’s emotional and spiritual fidelity but it can never be seen explicitly to be sexual too (just a reminder, I haven’t seen S6 yet). That’s the unfortunate and uncomfortable reality of television in the late 90s and early 00s.

But this is where I take umbrage: XWP may’ve been limited (by studio notes) to giving us a chalk outline of what Xena’s & Gabrielle’s relationship really looked like, but they most definitely had the ability to control how they coloured the relationships Xena & Gabrielle had with their Boyfriends of the Week. And again, in ‘Antony and Cleopatra’ the show chose to frame it as a love story, a romance, when simply playing it off as Xena’s libido run amok would have satisfied the episode’s need for sex appeal, while also honouring the fact that her heart has long been spoken for (don’t worry: taking Xena’s heart out of the equation won’t lessen her moral or emotional conflict any - I’m getting there!).

Because here’s the thing: Xena getting caught up in the heady thrill of a seduction play, especially with a man as attractive and powerful as Marc Antony is totally believable. And really, Xena taken in by *lust* makes sense, especially at this point in her life. I mean, it’s been a while since she’s had to play this seductive cat-and-mouse game (Ares doesn’t count) and maybe she’s forgotten how easy it is to slip into this character, how much fun it can be. Maybe it’s even a little liberating - this return to form from when she was wild and free - because a lot has changed since she last had to do this; she’s changed and in ways she never anticipated. She’s settled down, even if she’s still travelling the known world. Made a commitment to Gabrielle to share a life together, had a baby, and now the three of them are carving out their own little domestic sphere. And all of this is happening while she’s still reconciling the person she was before with the person she is now. Maybe she’s a little itchy.

Because this… this tension, the cadence of a feint and parry charm offensive, it’s familiar. Comfortable in a way she didn’t know she missed until she felt it again. It would be easy to see her drunk with dark delight, to momentarily lose sight of her head. It would be believable. What’s not believable is that she - a pragmatist - would ever lose sight of her heart. Because the stakes of the game are so high, for Egypt but also for her. (And for you in the back who’s clearly read ahead on the syllabus and is about to point out Xena’s checkered romantic history and her self-proclaimed soft spot for Bad Boys Who Love Like Fools - don’t worry, we’ll get there too.)

What I’m taking a generous amount of time to say is this: if they simply wanted to give us a lush and sexy episode, they could have delivered on the sexiness without attaching it to a love story! We are long past believing Xena only kisses people she’s in love with, or that she’s in love with all the people she kisses. There’s no need to pretend her sexual agency is only relevant or operational within the confines of a romantic plot line. But more than that, throwing an unbelievable romance into the mix really only serves to threaten the integrity of Xena’s motivations, because it risks reducing the entirety of her turmoil to: Xena loses another boyfriend, how le sad. And that is absolutely not the point.

Because the point is this: Rome fucking corrupts and perverts everything it touches. And Xena’s motivations are built from her (and now Gabrielle’s) tortured history with the empire and the men who run it. And if you’ll permit me, like 4,000 words, we can get into it and, hopefully, you’ll agree that shit is heavy enough on Xena’s mind without a ‘star-crossed lovers’ storyline. Remember, it was only a year ago that they both were nailed up by Romans and left to die under a cold, grey sky at the foot of Mount Amaro. That cross alone, and the long shadow it casts, is more than capable of supporting the dramatic weight of this episode, never mind the crosses that came before it.

So, I can’t overstate the importance of Xena’s past connection with Caesar and Rome. It informed so much of who Xena was to become, as a cruel and bloodthirsty warlord, and then later, as a warrior fighting for good. Even now, after Caesar’s death, that connection is still informing her. It will never stop. And, Rome will never be absolved of its sins against Xena & Gabrielle. There’s simply too much trauma in that shared past. Trauma that‘s telegraphed onto every interaction Xena has with Rome and its strongmen going forward.

And it’s exactly the reason Xena would never fall in love with Marc Antony. She might well lust after his body, but she will never pine for his devotion. Because, even in that moment under the stars when he is just a man with his chest cracked open, offering up to her his heart, beating strong and hungry in want of her affection, she can’t help but see the hardened, black veins where the love of Rome - like a creeping scourge - has left its vile mark. Of course she recognizes it, her own heart bore the same disease. A gift from Caesar. The pretty boy with his pretty words and his pretty promises, who so subtly disarmed Xena and then skillfully stripped away her defences until she had bared her heart to him. Who didn’t hesitate to flay it with a knife of her own making, it’s blade poisoned with his love for Rome.

He did not take her heart - sometimes she wished he had - but left it to rot in her chest, slow and angry. And it nearly destroyed her. Nearly drained her of every ounce of humanity she had left, as hatred and spite and cold brutality filled her up instead. He had weaponized Xena’s affection for him and used it against her and she was forever changed. In that singular moment she saw Caesar, and Rome - because Caesar was Rome and Rome was Caesar and they were one and the same - for what they truly were: insidious and unrepentant in their calculated villainy. And she hated - not just the man who betrayed her, but the monster who nursed him with poisoned milk, and all the other strongmen who nursed at the same teat. Because in that moment too, Xena learned that all the men who kneeled before Rome and lusted after her glory were the same.

But she didn’t let her hatred go unproductive. She had been careless and imprudent in her dealings with Caesar, and nearly paid for it with her life. Except she survived and then thrived, in her own insidious, unrepentant, calculated villainy. And she never forgot what Caesar had done to her, how he had done it. She turned it over and over and over again in her mind. Studied it from every angle. Studied *him*. Until she knew how he thought, how he moved, where he was weak and unsuspecting. Until she knew every single one of his plays, and how best to counter them. Where and when to lay siege. A secret weapon she cultivated, not just to destroy the man who destroyed her heart, but to lay waste to all the fools who followed in his footsteps. She wouldn’t be taken in by Rome again.

And, to be fair, the episode doesn’t try to run from this history. It just doesn’t linger in it any longer than is necessary to give a brief nod to Brutus and the crucifixion (which is a shame, because it informs so much of both Xena’s & Gabrielle’s psychology, but we’re getting there!!!). Even still, Gabrielle’s first words are loaded with its legacy, if not also quiet resignation: “Are we really going to do this?” Because: Fuck! Rome, again? They’re only willing to go another round with Rome because of Cleopatra, only willing to embrace the ghosts this will stir up because they feel they owe it to a friend.

So, of course they’re going to do this. Only, it’s no longer about vengeance, at least not the white fury that once burned hot in Xena’s veins. This is different. Xena’s ire still seethes, but she doesn’t plan to wield it like a mighty sword, rather she’ll channel it with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel poised to excise a tumour, deliberate and clinical. The plotting is easy - Xena has a library of schemes stored away in the vast reserves of her grey matter - but made easier by the fact that she knows Caesar’s playbook so intimately. The man may be dead but he lives on in Rome and the hearts of all the faithful men who love her - proud and predictable. Puppets whose strings she knows she can deftly manoeuvre. The problem is that Xena’s too comfortable in her self-assuredness. Her plan and her assumptions of how Roman strongmen operate and her ability to manage everything is founded on her understanding of Caesar. And none of these men are the next Caesar. And it’s a problem, because this was supposed to be a quick and straightforward trip up the Nile to Memphis to do a little housekeeping on behalf of a friend and it’s been complicated by the fact that her pawns are not being cooperative.

This entire endeavour is not what she was expecting, Antony is not at all what she was expecting. He’s disarmingly handsome and charming, like many of Rome’s great strongmen, and their chemistry is electric - a bonus when you’re really trying to sell your part in a seduction play - but she realizes a little too late that the game she plays with him is not the one she had planned on. It’s actually much more dangerous.

And, I get that many fans believe Xena’s sexual attraction to Marc Antony is meant to telegraph an underlying romantic attraction as well. That as their physical encounters become more intimate and intense, so too must Xena’s feelings for him. And it’s easy to read it this way because Gabrielle’s own jealousy seems to reinforce the very idea, and Xena, herself, looks increasingly unsettled after each interaction. But I think it’s too simplistic an answer. Xena’s unease about Antony is growing because her plan has been frustrated by unforeseen hurdles, none of which include her falling in love with him. And Xena is frustrated in return.

We totally see this play out in Xena’s treatment of Gabrielle. She is curt and cool and dismissive (at least until their balcony talk), especially after Gabrielle puts a spectacular halt to Xena’s picnic with Marc Antony. But Xena’s distance here is not because she’s being defensive (at Gabrielle’s continued suggestions that she’s lost the plot), or because she’s angry for the interruption (ok, I’m sure there’s a very base part of Xena that *was* disappointed), or because she’s hurt (how could Gabrielle not have faith in her?). It may come across that way, but, really, Xena’s just acting out her frustrations.

Because this whole situation with Marc Antony, if a little intriguing at first, is irritating. And Xena’s frustrated. On many levels. The most obvious, and least surprising, being that Antony’s attentions have left her itchy and it’s distracting. And not because the chemistry between them has set off a chain reaction of romantic feelings for him - Xena is not spending her free time daydreaming about the man behind the General. It’s simply because there’s a kind of fire in her veins now that she wasn’t expecting to deal with this time out and it has the tendency to keep her on edge. And it’s not that she can’t handle it - spontaneous combustion is sometimes an occupational hazard when she’s playing at desire - it’s just that this particular element was not part of her plan.

That’s the real frustration: Xena’s not used to her plans being stymied. Her opening move - rolling herself, naked and chained, out from a carpet - though, brazen, should have been the perfect lure, should have painted her Cleopatra as an easy, if not unwilling, target for Antony’s ambitions. Because all Roman strongmen are the same: pretty boys with pretty words and pretty promises and pretty predictable tastes for cunning and seduction that they weaponize for the glory of Rome; heartless but for their love of res publica.

And so, this exact play is one Xena is confident any ambitious Roman would pounce on - remember: she knows their playbook, was once herself on the near-losing end of such a gambit, back when she was still a little naive and the right words could soften her heart; before her legs and her psyche endured the full force of Rome’s wrath. Except Antony doesn’t take the bait, like she expects, and it catches Xena flat-footed, a position she rarely finds herself in and one she isn’t particularly fond of. And so now she finds herself having to regroup and change tactics on the fly, which is fine - she’s used to that too - it’s just that her forward momentum is frustrated by the fact that she can’t get a good read on Marc Antony, doesn’t quite know his angle. He’s an unknown and unpredictable variable in a plot that already has a lot of moving parts and it introduces just the tiniest element of doubt into the equation.

Which is why it doesn’t help that Gabrielle is dubious of Xena’s motivations surrounding Antony. Not that Xena blames her for her concerns. She knows they aren’t really meant to provoke - that they come from a place of genuine anxiety, born from Gabrielle’s intimate understanding of Xena’s unhappy past with both bad-boy types and the ravages of Rome. Knows that Gabrielle, whose heart has traced all the scars of that past and let her love be a salve, is steadfast in her belief in Xena, even when the wheels are falling off. But Gabrielle’s questions do provoke. They pique Xena’s frustrations. It leaves her feeling cagey - like her back is up - and she hates it because it means she’s dangerously close to being on the defensive.

And really, by the time Marc Antony invites her to meet him under the pyramids, Xena is running out of options. Her back isn’t just up, it feels dangerously close to being backed up against a wall. She’s only playing this game because she’s confident she’ll win - that’s why she led with such a shameless opening bid, presenting herself to Antony as she did - but with each round Antony’ coyishness has forced her to up the ante while she waits for him to play his hand. Once upon a time she might have enjoyed and encouraged this slow, deliberate back-and-forth - would have been willing to play it out until she was out of chips (and her clothes) - but she no longer has the patience. Not that she’s entirely immune now to the thrill of what they’re doing - Xena has always enjoyed the hunt and then playing with her food - it’s just that she needs him to reveal his hand before he can call her bluff because there aren’t anymore chips to spare and she has too much on the line to go all in.

But Xena’s emotional conflict isn’t just being driven by her frustrations with the way her plan is playing out - it’s priming the engine, to be sure - there are other feelings at work here too. And chief among them is a deep and growing unease with the roles she and Gabrielle have cast themselves in and the very real consequences that will come from their interference. It doesn’t sit well with Xena, the way they’re toying with the futures of Egypt and Rome - as if they are just prizes to be won and Brutus, Antony and Octavius are the game pieces that need to be maneuvered around the board until a winner appears. As if there aren’t millions of lives at stake. She hates it. Hates that she has been somehow cast above it all, to dabble, like some unworthy god, in the lives of so many, and yet also stuck in the thick of it, an unwitting pawn herself.

And the longer Xena’s game is in play, the murkier everything becomes. What seems like a straightforward plan on paper, is actually a mess of competing interests, each as cold and ruthless as the next. And right at the heart of it all: Xena (and Gabrielle too), judge, jury & executioner. Because despite her business-like approach when they arrived in Egypt, Xena’s ability to remain detached and objective is under pressure, especially as all the players in her game reveal themselves and their motivations resolve into finer focus.

And there’s something about Marc Antony. He’s truly unnerved Xena. Because he didn’t play by her rules, the rules she owed to Rome - and he, a Roman no less. Maybe there would have been a time in her past when this would have endeared him to her, but now it’s left her uneasy. He needles at her resolve, the confidence she has in her plan. There’s a part of her that starts to wonder if she’s mis-read him completely, and that’s the start of a slippery slope into thinking she has mis-read this entire situation. And she doesn’t have the time for back-sliding.

But the problem is this: no matter how she looks at it there’s no clear answer, only devastating consequences if she’s wrong. For herself, for the lives she’s playing with, and probably for most of the known world. Because Rome and her strongmen will stop at nothing to take it all. And that thought never leaves her. Rome is a constant drum beat in her mind: Rome Rome Rome. Xena knows what Rome is capable of, what these three men jockeying for her power are capable of, even if Xena doesn’t know *them*. It echoes in her mind every time one of them is before her - even as Marc Antony’s kisses leave behind a fever in her blood - Rome Rome Rome.

And while her mind whirls constantly, turning over strategy and tactics, she’s tried to keep her heart mostly out of this affair. Left it unburdened by the machinations of statecraft and violent political intrigue. Except for a dull ache - when she thinks about Eve downriver in Alexandria, or when her eye catches Gabrielle in an unguarded moment - Xena could almost believe the desert sun had turned her heart to dust. Almost. Except that ache is there and, like her frustration and unease, it’s been growing more persistent.

Because Xena has more than herself to consider now. Sure, she’s spent the last five years dedicated to preserving the greater good - whether fighting for her closest friends or the nameless, faceless masses - but it’s different now, she’s different, and not just because she has a daughter who needs her to come home. She has Gabrielle too. They have a little family. And even though Xena has loved Gabrielle for years, she feels fiercely protective of Gabrielle’s heart and love now, in a way she’s never felt before, with anyone. But then, maybe it’s not surprising: they did battle demons in hell for each other’s soul. That sort of thing changes everything.

And Xena can see how this is affecting Gabrielle, even if she doesn’t say it out loud. Remembers the pierce of iron through the flesh of Gabrielle’s hands as surely as she remembers it through her own. Rome has robbed them both and Xena sees the weight of it in Gabrielle’s gaze. Sees, too, the way Gabrielle traps her bottom lip in her teeth as Xena smiles seductively at Antony. Watches the flush creep across Gabrielle’s pale skin when Antony’s kisses become more emboldened. Catches the dangerous flash in Gabrielle’s green eyes. The one that hasn’t gone away since they arrived in Egypt. Xena sees and it makes her heart lurch. To watch her beloved watch her take delight in the charms of another. And to know the sight of it is a white hot grip on Gabrielle’s heart. Xena feels the burning clench around hers too.

And this is the Xena we see when she meets Marc Antony under the pyramids. Frustrated and uneasy, heart aching. Tired. Tired of this game and her role in it. Tired of Rome, but mostly tired of all the horrible things that happen by her hand because of Rome. And then there is Marc Antony waiting for her. Disarmingly handsome and charming, unnerving in his refusal to play into her hands, a Roman above all: a pretty boy with pretty words and pretty promises. And like all Romans, she expects the promises to be lies. Except, there’s something in the way he’s played his hand, the way he’s held back all this time, that tells her there might be truth in his words when he tells her he wants her love.

She can sense his confession even before the words are out. Maybe on some level she always knew, had seen the inevitability of this moment even as she refused to believe in the possibility. But his words pierce the haze that has kept her from seeing her own folly. And it’s like lightning in a bottle. The way every frayed nerve snaps and jumps and arcs all at once - the rain of sparks illuminating everything that had left her mind and heart unsettled - in an instant of sudden, total understanding. It steals her breath and slices at her heart, this clear and unbearable realization. What she’s done and what she still has to do to bring this absurd game to a close.

See, she’s made a terrible miscalculation. Because in her mind Roman brutes are heartless. Capable of loving only Rome. And her seduction of Marc Antony was only ever meant to be a power play. How could it be anything more? She had weaponized lust and sex in the past to get the things she wanted, this was to be no different. Except that it was. And her hubris - her prideful overconfidence in her infallible, little plan, coupled with her resolute belief that all Roman men are Caesar at their core - has led her to overplay her hand. Not that she won’t still find a way to win. It’s just the cost will be much higher than she could have anticipated.

Because she has unwittingly weaponized Marc Antony’s affection for her and now she is going to have to deliberately use it against him. It is devastating. To see his chest bared to her so willingly, and to know that she must flay his heart with a knife of his own making. It shakes her resolve. It brings tears to her eyes.

But of course it brings tears to her eyes. She has done the unthinkable: she herself has become Caesar. The thing she hated most. The man who won her trust and her love and then betrayed her. Cold and hard and heartless. Brutal and ruthless and willingly so. In this moment she is Caesar. And soon she will become Rome, sacrificing another man, who might yet have been good, in the name of her unrequited love.

This moment under the pyramids is so important. Everything hangs on this declaration from Marc Antony, on Xena’s tears. I know people see it as confirmation of Xena’s feelings for him - and she has feelings to be sure - but they’re not romantic. Xena’s emotional reaction, and the genuine unease she wears thereafter do not hinge on her being in love with him. Xena’s humanity is enough to soften both her heart and her regard for Antony in this moment. Her compassion and regret are not dependent on attraction or attachment. And so the story doesn’t need to frame her tears for Marc Antony as a lover’s heartbreak, because her heart was always going to break for him, as it breaks for herself and Gabrielle and the ruin left in their wake.

And there will be ruin. Xena is certain of it. Although, for a moment, she might have held a glimmer of hope for Antony. This Roman who’s willing to give up his army for love. For love. Not that she wants what he’s offering. She just wants to believe he could be different. Not for her. For Rome. But then his sword is hilt deep in the belly of one of Brutus’ men and then slicing through the throat of another. And Xena knows - even as she and Gabrielle dance around the subject hours later, bathed in moonlight and disquiet - that any hope for him is misplaced. Knows exactly what he will do with Brutus’ army and Octavius if he prevails. Is keenly aware of what awaits if he learns of her deception and is allowed to live.

Because once upon a time she was the one who trusted and loved and was betrayed and lived. And thousands paid the price at the end of her sword for Caesar’s treachery. Xena can’t even imagine what Marc Antony, favoured son of Rome, might do. Can’t risk the chance. So he must pay the price at the end of her sword too. Xena wishes it weren’t so, tries to avoid the fight that will take his life - because now that she’s seen the humanity in her enemy she wants no further part in this madness she’s helped to orchestrate - only she doesn’t have a choice now. Alea iacta est - the die is cast, and her blade and her betrayal find Antony’s heart all the same. And when the end comes, there’s Xena, soaked in blood and rain and tears, in the middle of this fucking mess, the dead and wounded scattered about her. She can’t escape the truth of it then: she did this.

And it’s this! All of this - the many layers of trauma in need of reckoning and Xena’s tangled heart, twisted further by the part she is forced to play in Egypt and the goddamn fucking senselessness of it all - that carries the emotional weight of the episode. Who needs a Boyfriend of the Week when there’s already all this angst?

And, ok, I hear you say: Pattie, you’ve made some valid points about Xena’s state of mind, but why can’t Xena’s emotional and moral conflict be born from this fraught personal history AND from the fact that she *was* falling in love with Antony? Wouldn’t that make it an EVEN MORE dramatic and powerful story? Because she was specifically falling in love with a ROMAN GENERAL, the very epitome of the thing she has spent most of her adult life hating?

I would like to agree with you, dear skeptical reader, but the simple truth is that there isn’t room for both in *this* story. The reality is this: a 44-minute-long, action-focused show like XWP just doesn’t always have a lot of extra time to linger on the emotional beats. And this episode, in particular, already so busy with all the palace and political intrigue, has even less. So much of what we’re able to read of Xena’s psychological state - and *why* it’s so deeply fraught - doesn’t even come from this episode. It relies on past emotional beats to inform our understanding of her behaviour. (And, I don’t know, perhaps this is why a casual viewer might pass off Xena’s and Marc Antony’s interplay as romantic - because most of the horrible things that have happened to Xena by Roman hands are left unsaid, and surely, if we’d been reminded of them we would never accept that Xena would fall in love with a golden boy of the empire.)

As it is, there’s barely space for any kind of meditation on how either Xena or Gabrielle are feeling about the roles they are being forced to play and the seemingly callous and ruthless tactics they increasingly use to do so, let alone a tenuous romance. And the former is what this episode should be actively engaging with: the moral ambiguity that has been driving season five and will continue on through the end of the series.

Further complicating things with a love story, doesn’t make the episode more dramatic, it just takes up emotional bandwidth that could be better served elsewhere. Because, yes, Marc Antony is the epitome of the thing Xena has spent more than a decade hating! Xena’s history with Caesar and Rome (and everything they both stand for) is richly layered and devastating. It cannot be erased or ignored. To suggest that she is capable of falling in love with Antony (and to ask us to then believe it) without also deliberately exploring the tension inherent in that act is obtuse.

Those kinds of emotional beats need room to fucking breathe. And the episode doesn’t do this because there’s just too much happening. It tries - in broad, moody strokes - to capture the tenor of Xena’s emotional landscape, and it succeeds in wrapping us up in the same angst that drapes Xena, but the source is nebulous. Her haunted looks and tears - under the sphinx and when her sword finds Antony’s belly - can only telegraph so much, especially when we have been given very little reason to feel invested in her supposed affection towards him.

And here’s where we finally touch on Xena’s checkered romantic history - and her self-proclaimed soft spot for Bad Boys Who Love Like Fools (10 points to Ravenclaw for your patience) - because I’m sure you’re about to suggest that Marc Antony’s air of a Bad Boy is itself cause enough to garner Xena’s affection. Powerful, disarmingly handsome, and charming? Check, check, check. Capable with his ‘sword’? Bonus: super check. But just because her past is littered with dysfunctional relationships and Bad Boys - though I’m sure not all were bad, and some were definitely women - doesn’t mean she’s interested in repeating her mistakes. The Xena of old is vastly different from the one we know by season five, even if there are parts of her that are very much the same.

The principal driving force in her early adult life and formative romantic relationships was lust. It ruled over every part of her. Lust for: power and for violence and for blood and for riches and for infamy, and, of course, for sexual gratification. And so, she sought out partners - themselves driven by the same hunger - who could satisfy all of her desires, not just her (very) carnal appetite. She fell hard and fast and burned white hot until something, or someone, else came along and made her feel even more incandescent. In those early days, Xena wasn’t looking for *love*, she was looking for a good time.

Now, that’s not to say Xena’s past romantic entanglements were frivolous or lacking in genuine sentiment. At the very least, I suspect many were sustained by the warm affection that comes naturally from the intimacy of sharing your life with someone, whether they’re riding into battle alongside you or just warming your bed over a long winter. Nor is it meant to be dismissive of whatever fondness she felt for her lovers. Because: not all love looks the same. There are different kinds of love and different ways to love.

For Xena, though, whose heart had been so thoroughly and devastatingly mangled by Caesar’s betrayal, love was immaterial. At best, it was the unintended, if pleasurable, byproduct of a mutually beneficial arrangement. At worst it was a weakness that her enemies could exploit. Mostly, it was just a silly notion to scoff at. And the feeling Xena would come to associate with love - whether she acknowledged it as such, or not - was informed by both the dynamics of her relationships with Bad Boys and her own dark, irrepressible designs. It was selfish, and often cruel. Grounded in hot blooded impulses and savage desire, rather than growing out of an honest and patient connection.

And it became so thoroughly ingrained in her psyche. It was her overriding view of love. Even after she came to recognize how different love could be - and look and feel - once it was no longer centred in selfishness, when it was open and giving and kind, it was a struggle for Xena to undo her conditioning, to rewrite her love language. Because: first, she had to accept that she was worthy of this new kind of love, and then she had to actually accept it once it was offered.

But, old habits die hard, even for Xena, and I’m sure there were times - when she was just beginning to reframe how she viewed love and was learning how to reopen her heart - that she slipped back into her outmoded ways of thinking. Conflating lust with something else; allowing herself to be tempted by dalliances with partners who stoked her selfish desires, instead of tempering them. And maybe if Xena had crossed paths with Marc Antony then - back at the beginning of the series when her history with Rome was still messy but not nearly as tortuous as it is by the end of season five (you know after Britannia and its fallout which was the beginning of The Rift, and the deaths of Crassus and Ephiny and Pompy and the countless others who were the collateral damage surrounding those events, and, of course, Xena’s & Gabrielle’s own death on the cross) - I’d be willing to believe that she could love him.

Because, at one time Xena might have been interested in a man like Antony, might have been able to look past the Roman tunic and pursued him, taken in by his magnetism and allure. But by this point in the series Xena just isn’t interested, and not because her duplicity has made it impossible for her to be, but because by now her entire understanding of love - of being loved and giving love and nurturing it and making room for it to grow - has fundamentally changed. It’s been re-centred in selflessness, and everything that Marc Antony represents is antithetical to this new appreciation.

And I get that there’s an argument in here somewhere, that suggests Xena’s new approach to love might have softened her heart in such a way that she’s both able and willing to see the man behind the General, and be open to loving him too. But I would argue that the very things, the very people, whose love has transformed Xena’s heart are also the very things that would stop her from ever letting her heart go there. It’s not just that her point of reference on love has changed, it’s that she’s had years now of lived experience to break that cognitive dissonance between her attitude - knowing the kind of love she wants, the kind of love that’s *good* for her - and her behaviour - choosing that reaffirming, selfless love instead of the tempestuous, selfish one. She’s not blind to her past weaknesses, she knows exactly the sort of temptation Marc Antony offers - as surely as Gabrielle does the moment she lays eyes on him - but recognizing it is not akin to considering it. Because: Xena’s already found the love she needs and wants (and knows she’s earned and deserves).

Ok, but what of Xena’s admission on the balcony, when she cops to having a soft spot for Bad Boys Who Love Like Fools? I think it’s less about admitting (to herself as much as Gabrielle) that she’s developed romantic feelings for Marc Antony, as it is about Xena acknowledging a certain sort of fondness she feels for these ‘Bad Boys’. A fondness that’s born from a mutual understanding. Because: I think Xena sees herself in these men - at least an earlier version of herself - when she was ‘bad’ and foolhardy at love, and her heart tugs at the memory of it. Some curious mix of nostalgia and empathy, that softens her regard for them.

And she certainly sees herself in Marc Antony. The parallels between her story with Caesar and the story she’s now playing out with Antony are unavoidable, and if she’s cast herself as Caesar in this shadow play then Marc Antony is her younger self. Of course she would have a soft spot for him, she knows how this story ends. Knows, specifically, what it’s like to be willing to give your trust and your love only to be betrayed in return. And, of course, it’s made only more complicated with the knowledge that she’s the one who will ultimately be his ruin.

So, finally, exhausted and exasperated and, like 7,000 words into this, I hear you ask: what does it really matter? Xena doesn’t choose Marc Antony in the end, so what does it matter if it was lust or love or guilt or a fucking mid-life crisis that was driving her in this episode? Well, dear, patient reader: it matters because Gabrielle deserves better (THIS IS A BOLD STATEMENT, I KNOW, AND IT’S NOT AN INDICTMENT ON XENA’S CHARACTER EITHER, IT’S JUST THAT I FEEL VERY PROTECTIVE OF GABRIELLE’S HEART, OK! AND THE ONE THING THIS EPISODE DOES IS GIVE GABRIELLE THOSE LITTLE BEATS WHERE WE LINGER ON HER VISIBLE REACTIONS TO XENA’S TETE A TETE WITH ANTONY AND SHE’S CLEARLY JEALOUS AND HURT AND WORRIED AND SO, LET’S NOT LOSE SIGHT OF THE FACT THAT HER EMOTIONAL STAKES ARE ALSO INCREDIBLY HIGH IN THIS EPISODE, NOT JUST BECAUSE HER LIFE PARTNER IS SEDUCING SOME DUDE, BUT ALSO BECAUSE THE LEVELS OF BRUTALITY SHE’S INCREASINGLY HAVING TO EMPLOY ARE ALARMING. AND SO, SOMEONE IN THE WRITER’S ROOM WAS THINKING ABOUT THIS WHEN THEY WERE OUTLINING THE STORY - UNDERSTANDING THAT THERE’S AN UNDERCURRENT IN XENA’S & GABRIELLE’S RELATIONSHIP THAT WOULD MAKE SEEING XENA WITH ANTONY UNCOMFORTABLE, BUT THEN NOT ALSO RECOGNIZING THAT THAT SAME UNDERCURRENT WOULD MAKE IT EQUALLY UNCOMFORTABLE FOR XENA. AND IT’S JUST LIKE: TEAM, WHY DO YOU HAVE TO DO THAT TO GABRIELLE? HER HEART MUST HAVE BEEN IN A TERRIBLE STATE. AND WHY DID YOU HAVE TO MAKE XENA COMPLICIT IN THIS?)

But, seriously, I’ve spent all this time diving deep into this episode and the ways it comes up short and why, and while I’ve alluded to it, I’ve mostly avoided the elephant in the room.

We need to talk about Gabrielle.

Because: Gabrielle is at the heart of why a romance between Xena and Marc Antony feels contrived and unconvincing. At this point in the show, it’s clear Xena & Gabrielle are fully and completely committed to each other (and, yes, I know that doesn’t necessarily preclude either of them from also seeking romantic or sexual partners elsewhere... I just don’t think they’re the sharing types, but I DIGRESS) - I mean, we *just* had ‘Kindred Spirits’ where they were nesting and talking about domestic bliss and privately teasing each other about their sex life in the most blatant way possible and failing miserably at breaking up but winning at being cute and married and adoringly in love. And I think it’s important to acknowledge the weight of Xena’s decision to very clearly have Gabrielle as her *life* partner - because implicit in the act of choosing to commit yourself to another person is a vow of fidelity, a bond that would be near-holy to Xena, whose word means everything.

But more to the point: Xena loves Gabrielle and Gabrielle loves Xena, and their love has been the beating heart of this show from the beginning. Gabrielle’s care and tenderness has been transformative - everything that Xena has come to understand about love, everything that she does to honour and protect it, is because of Gabrielle and the heart she’s so selflessly given of. And it’s this love story - and how the show has framed its slow and beautiful unravelling - that becomes the bench mark, the gold standard, for how all other love stories in this universe should be viewed, for how Xena, herself, now views love.

So, I guess what I’ve been saying all along is this: Xena can’t possibly be falling in love with Marc Antony because she’s already in love. Deeply, profoundly, bound-for-all-eternity in love. And no one, in this life (or any other, let’s be real) will ever compare. Not pretty boys with pretty words and pretty promises. Not Bad Boys Who Love Like Fools. Not even a god himself. There is only Gabrielle.

#xena #xena warrior princess #xwp #otp: for i am dying of such love #xena and gabrielle #S05E18: Antony + Cleopatra #pattie has some thoughts #the fucking audacity #i still cannot even

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skyvaikers · 4 years

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a whole new world [ cal kestis ]

summary: after being frozen in carbonate, young padawan y/n is released into a whole new era, but she’s got some help.

warnings: maybe some angst from the previous era, but other than that fluff!

requested by: anon :)

———

the world she knew was now being torn to shreds. the clones she had once considered to be her friends were now her enemies. she didn’t know how the universe had succumbed to such darkness, but being a padawan learner, she didn’t know much anyway.

she was with her best friend ahsoka tano, last she remembered. the two of them were fighting in the battle for mandalore together but rarely got to speak because of how intense the fighting got.

“see you on the other side!” ahsoka had called to her, and y/n truly believed she would. little did she know she’d never see the togruta again.

———

the clone wars had ended, but not in the way most, if not all, jedi thought. one of their strongest jedi had turned over to the dark side, making him the newest threat to the galaxy. most of the jedi were hunted down and killed, while some went into hiding, one of those being obi-wan kenobi, who was just a legend. the padawans of that time were either killed, they went into hiding, or otherwise. y/n l/n was the exception.

the padawan had been frozen in carbonate by some bounty hunters, but she didn’t stay in the bounty hunters’ possession for very long. soon enough, a team of rebels bought the carbonate female and brought her aboard their own ship, taking off and leaving the market place alone.

the team gave the girl a look. she didn’t look much older than the boy on the crew, but that was them judging on the appearance. cere junda, a former jedi knight herself, pressed a button to begin the process of releasing the female. cal kestis, a padawan, watched one awe as the carbonate turned a bright red color. the girl soon fell out and into the arms of cere.

the world came to her rather quickly. fresh air kissed her skin and she could hear stuff. she couldn’t see, and her tongue was tangled in knots. she couldn’t ask where she was and who was holding her. she was guided over to a bench, where she was sat down. she swallowed, her senses starting to return to her.

“where am i?” she slurred, her vision coming back. it was blurred, but it was better than nothing.

“on the mantis, along with its crew. i’m cere, cal is in front of you, greez is piloting, the droid is bd-1, and the there’s merrin.” the woman beside y/n spoke. she guided her eyes to the boy in front of her, who looked to be about her age. the droid was adorable but didn’t look like the ones she had partnered with back in the clone wars. she blinked several times as her eyesight further adjusted. her eyes flicked over to merrin, and she recognized her kind.

“you’re a dathomir witch,” her voice was stronger but still quiet. she had her fair share of run-ins with the witches of dathomir, hence ventress, though she technically wasn’t a witch.

“used to be! used to be, she’s with us now.” cal was quick to shut down any hostilities between the two females; he didn’t want a fight on their ship. y/n slid her eyes back over to cal, whose face was now in full focus.

“what happened?” she asked. y/n knew something was different, but putting her finger on it proved to be harder than she expected.

“the empire took over, lead by darth vader. he’s sent inquisitors out to kill all the remaining jedi. so, we’re on the run, forming a small rebellion of sorts.” cal explained as he sat down in front of her. darth vader. is that what anakin had become? he became the very thing he swore to defeat? she blinked several more times as memories came back, and the emotions took over. she remembered her and ahsoka’s relationship, she remembered how she considered the clones to be her brothers, she remembered losing her master in battle.

“you knew him, didn’t you?” cere asked, her expression softening. she realized that the girl had remembered things, things that were and no longer are.

“he was my friend’s master, anakin skywalker. he had an anger to him, but he was the kindest person i had ever met,” she explained. she lowered her eyes to her hands, then patting her sides for her saber. upon feeling the familiar metal of her weapon, she sighed with relief.

“i’m sorry,” cal whispered. “what’s your name?” he asked her.

“y/n, y/n l/n.”

———

a couple of weeks had passed with the mantis crew and y/n was getting the hang of this new time. being on the run was something she wasn’t used to, and be pursued by a former mentor was even weirder.

the crew had landed on kashyyyk, the home of the wookiee. they hoped to seek refuge there under the large trees, and potentially fuel up, both the ship and themselves.

it was a clear evening, the cool breeze blew through y/n’s hair as she sat in front of their fire. cal sat across from her as she talked with merrin; the two had become unlikely friends. cere leaned over and smirked at cal.

“you like her, don’t you?” she hummed. cal shook his head, averting his attention away from y/n.

“what? no!” he whispered back, but of course, that was a lie. cere knew that, but she didn’t press the issue. suddenly, a dark presence was felt. the three jedi stood up, their eyes darting around to try and find the source of the feeling.

“do you feel that?” she asked the others. was it vader? had he finally found them?

“yeah...it’s probably one of vader’s inquisitors.” cal told her as his hand hovered over his saber. she had been told about the inquisitors, about how they were sent by vader to hurry the process of eliminating the jedi.

it wasn’t long after they felt the dark presence a figure emerged from the shadows. their blade ignited, a cherry red glow illuminating the space around them.

“well well well, what do we have here? do i sense three jedi?” it was a woman, and she laughed as she sauntered over to them.

“trilla,” cal growled. y/n had heard of her, that she was ruthless and didn’t leave much after her attacks.

“nice to see you again, kestis. and of course, master.” she gestured to cere, “and you, new girl. what’s your story?” she asked, pointing her saber at y/n. the girl removed her saber from her belt and rested her thumb on the ignition.

“i didn’t think inquisitors did a lot of talking.” y/n snapped back, making the woman in front of her laugh.

“well, you’re right.” she grinned as she swung at y/n, who easily blocked her attack with her own ignited saber. the blue and red hues mixed, making a purple glow fan out from them. y/n pushed trilla off of her, but the inquisitor kept coming back for more. with every swing of their weapons, the more technique came back to y/n. a roundhouse kick to the face, when locking savers, she’d kick her away to unlock them. cal wanted to help, but he had ignited his saber just in case. trilla had ventured away from y/n and started swinging at cal, who was more than ready to fight her.

between the two of them, they had tired trilla out. y/n panted as she swung some more, force pushed her away and used as many maneuvers as she could to run trilla back from where she came.

“you can tell vader,” she panted as trilla backed away, “he missed one,” she spat as trilla slunk back into her ship, flying off. there was a silence among the group, the only thing being heard was their breathing.

“that,” cal breathed, “was awesome.” he complimented. y/n smiled and felt her cheeks heat up.

“hey, i was friends with anakin’s padawan which meant i sometimes trained underneath him and master obi-wan,” she told cal, who’s eyes widened with awe.

“wait, you actually trained with him?” he was bewildered; cal only met the jedi formally and when he was with his own master.

“sometimes,” she smiled.

“you have a lot of stories, don’t you?” cere laughed as she took a seat.

“i do,”

“and we have all night,” merrin smiled, sitting down next to y/n. the rest of the night was filled with laughter and awe-inspiring stories.

———

this took way longer than i would have liked and i sincerely apologize for that! college prep has killed me and now that i’m actually up in boone (where i’m going to college), it’s getting real. i really want to finish the requests that i have, and i’m hoping i can do that soon. thank you for being patient with me! i hope this imagine was ok, anon! i wanted to get it done so it may seem a bit rushed so i apologize. anyways, please enjoy! and you can still send in requests! just know i’ve got a few lined up.

#star wars #star wars imagines #star wars imagine #cal kestis #cal kestis imagine #cal kestis imagines

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ladyloveandjustice · 4 years

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Winter 2020 Anime Overview: Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun

Ok, so let’s get this out of the way first, 1. I adore this story so much and 2. Toilet Bound Hanako-kun has a horrible, horrible English title that is not actually at all representative of the story’s content and I have no idea what happened when it came to the team choosing that name. To the average English-speaking viewer/reader, this name 100% implies gross stuff and bathroom humor, and there is none in this show.

A Japanese reader on the other hand, would be more likely to recognize the name Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun as a spin on the classic ghost story “Hanako-san of the Toilet” only A BOY THIS TIME WHHHHA?” Basically, the story goes that a girl named Hanako in a red skirt haunts girls’ bathrooms in Japanese schools and if you knock on the third stall and call “Hanako-san” three times, she’ll appear. She might grant you a wish or pull you into Hell or something else, it varies.

(Her Wikipedia image, aww.)

Anyway, I dunno why the English title didn’t at least go with “Toilet Ghost Hanako-kun” or something that would have gotten the premise across even a little better (HE NOT TECHNICALLY BOUND BY THE TOILET EVEN, HE CAN GO ANYWHERE IN THE SCHOOL GROUNDS THE BATHROOM IS JUST HIS HOME BASE), but our boy Hanako haunting the girl’s bathroom only leads to broad jokes about our heroine being tasked with cleaning the bathroom and “dude you really shouldn’t be in here” comments, it’s pretty incidental.

Now that THAT’S out of the way, let’s talk about my LOVE FOR THIS STORY

Hanako-kun tells the story of a “regular” high school girl named Nene Yashiro, the mischievous and mysterious school ghost she befriends, and all the other weird monsters, exorcists, spirits and curses they encounter. It’s got a gorgeous, colorful bold aesthetic and art style that combines gothic and cute! It has a great mix of humor, intrigue, angst and fantasy action. basically if you love ghosts, monsters, Japanese mythology and legends, supernatural-human relationships, supernaturally fueled angst and drama, stories about trying to fix an unfair system the world has set up, wistful romance, a good shoujo manga with a Lot of Feelings (yes this is a shonen technically I’ll explain that later), weirdo dorks becoming friends AND MUCH MORE...this story will have something that will resonate with you. It’s got a lot going on, and it’s a ton of fun.

Hanako-kun is really one of those surprising stories that fits right into a hole in my story-loving heart I didn’t realize was still there, or that I’d actually been carrying since childhood. I love ghosts, see, and have since I was a kid!!! I knew this, but I kinda forgot how intensely I love them until this show reminded me again??? That’s because regular ghost stories/mysteries/whatever- I like them, but they don’t quite do it for me in the way more character-driven ones exploring the nature of being a ghost and humans and ghosts trying understand each other etc do. Stuff that really gets into the tragedy AND the fun fantasy aspect of ghosts, and plays the long game with it- and Hanako-kun scratches that itch perfectly.

Getting a little bit deeper into the premise of Hanako-kun, Nene is a very brave and sweet but not-all-that-bright girl (or, to put it more bluntly, she’s an idiot in the best way) who has a lot of romantic fantasies and insecurities and is VERY focused on them. After hearing a rumor at school that “Hanako-san of the bathroom” will grant wishes, she wishes to be able to confess to her crush and finds out its actually a weird ghost boy her age named Hanako haunting the bathroom! A lot of things happen, and she ends up cursed and bound to Hanako-kun, but also ends up slowly forming a friendship.

Turns out Hanako is the ghost in charge of the “seven mysteries/wonders” aka seven powerful supernatural entities that haunt this school (he’s number seven). These apparitions only supposed to terrorize students a LITTLE, because apparitions need to have rumors spread about them to remain in the human world.

(‘HAVE YOU HEARD?’ Oh hey shadow girls from Utena see you’ve moved to a new school.)

The rumors also generally dictate how powerful and dangerous the apparitions actually are- but SOMETHING MYSTERIOUS is changing the rumors around the school and making the apparitions go berserk and actually harm humans. So Hanako needs a human assistant to change the rumors and help him calm and seal the apparitions! That’s where Nene comes in.

Hanako himself is a very fun character- he’s very chaotic and revels in his whole “ gremlin ghost” persona, and is upfront about being a bit of an asshole. BUT he also makes his kindness, often good intentions and the fact he’ll have his friends back when it counts obvious from the beginning. B U T! He’s also got darkness and hidden depths to explore, and a lot of his persona is affected and masks deeper issues!

Our ghost boy is genuinely A TAD unstable deep down (as in he straight up has several untreated PTSD symptoms and that’s as disastrous as you’d expect) and packing some serious tragic backstory, as you might expect from a kid who died young and carries around a butcher’s knife, and it’s gonna come back to bite him and and all who care about him hard.

Especially when an overly enthusiastic exorcist named Kou Minamoto shows up! Kou is another one who’s very dumb and very good, a wannabe-shonen-protag with a heart of gold and strong sensitive, domestic side. He rounds out our main trio. Also he gets a tragic, emotionally intense relationship with yet another ghost boy that sings to my heart.

(Yes Hanako’s helping Nene to do the thing)

You may be able to tell, this story has INTENSE good-shoujo vibes despite technically being a shonen in a way that I love- it’s story very driven by big emotions, a variety of fucked up and tragically complex relationships, teen hormones running wild, etc, and it’s just delicious.

Nene is the normal-person-audience-surrogate-girl in a way that is more common for a shoujo protag, and the way her emotional connections to everyone, her sweeping romantic fantasies and her interiority are consistently in focus when she’s there- yeah, she’s definitely a plucky shoujo protag, 100%. And I’m all about that!!!

One thing I especially appreciate (though this comes across more strongly in the manga than the anime thanks to the anime rearranging things) is when Nene finds out about Hanako’s Heavy Baggage, she actually takes some time to herself to consider whether she can handle dealing with someone with these intense issues as a kid who’s never encountered stuff like this before- it’s not assumed by the story that the Sweet Girl is Obligated to help the Tragic Boy. I go into more detail about this part in this part here, but it’s that kind of attention to Nene’s needs that makes her role in the story work. Hanako and Nene and everyone’s struggles to get the hang of and properly navigate honest communication and mutual support in relationships are often really great and real-feeling

The story has a lot more things I love packed in to it- a dorky-but-still-deeply-unsettling villain gang who’s screwed up interactions are just as fun as our protagonists, yokai, A CURSED LIBRARY, some great ladies in addition to Nene, meditations on the nature of life, death, themes about fighting nihilism, and so on...I could seriously go on forever. It’s good stuff, and there’s lots of good weird supernaturals to meet.

The story’s also got tons of intrigue! The overarching plot and Hanako’s Mysterious Past is still in the process of unfolding, but it’s been great drama every step of the way! As mentioned before, the story also really relies on funny character dynamics, interaction and development to carry the whole thing and balance the drama.

The anime itself does have some pacing issues bc they crammed a lot into the first season and rearranged some stuff- an entire two chapter arc was skipped and was unlikely to be covered in the anime and some parts are noticeably rushed. I still really like the anime and it’s a solid adaptation. I love how much of the manga’s detailed aesthetic it managed to keep as well as the amazing voice acting and it made a few small but important additions. But there are some notable bumps- of course this just led me to go binge the manga (up to volume 12 is legally available digitally) and BOY DO I NOW LOVE THIS STORY EVEN MORE.

Now obviously, just because it is Exactly My Shit in a lot of ways doesn’t mean Hanako-kun is the much quested for “unproblematic fave”, there’s several caveats you should probs be aware of- its shoujo vibes also mean some classic shoujo ~Problematic tropes~ and a couple shounen ones.

THE LIST:

-Just as a general content overview thing: if this wasn’t clear the show deals heavily with death, body horror and other horror aspects. There’s heavily implied suicide and abuse and so on- as mentioned, the main character is traumatized and shows a lot of symptoms of PTSD, and Nene has to struggle to navigate her relationship with him because of this, as does Kou.

-Hanako himself has the whole ~loveable pervert~ and ~slightly possessive shoujo bad boy~ schtick going as part of his mischevious persona. In the anime so far, he never actually gropes or comments on not-in-his-naughty-mags-people’s breasts or anything of that level thankfully, but he’s very flirty, clingy, will loudly bring up porn, fond of the ol’ *says something that purposefully sounds sexually possessive* HAHAHA U THOUGHT I MEANT SOMETHING DIRTY RIGHT LOL ACTUALLY I DIDN’T.”

(My unnecessary ‘this part is kinda interesting!’ ramble: Nene always lists “sexual harassment” among Hanako’s flaws (she loves listing them), but doesn’t get visibly uncomfortable with his flirtiness or seem to mind it most times, which at least makes the whole thing more tolerable for me.

(since she doesn’t seem to mind that part and its clear he does it bc of actual affection for her, it’s actually p. cute how huggy he is.)

The one time it does cross the line and genuinely upset her, it’s treated seriously, Hanako is genuinely regretful and apologizes. That’s one of my fave moments in the story and the way it’s handled is well done.

This incident that he’s honestly pretty socially clueless as kid who died young and a lot of his bravado is to cover that up and keep people at a distance- this is a trope into itself that can use unpacking but I do at least appreciate that this is a considered character trait that’s part of his whole messed up package rather than something that thrown in there Just to Be a Fanservice Trope. (Especially since the manga confirms he never acted particularly pervy while alive, further cementing this is an affected persona).

-There’s a running gag around Nene’s insecurity over her thick ‘daikon shaped’ ankles and boys treating her badly for it.

One one hand, her body image issues are relatable, on the other, it feels cruel and annoying just how much the show finds ways to bring it up and humiliate her over and over again.

(My unnecessary “this is part is kinda interesting” ramble:The one thing i did realize that despite bringing it up constantly, we at least have no “i’m going to do this to lose weight” or “go on a diet” rhetoric,like this is just part of Nene’s body type and she knows she can’t change it? Which is kinda interesting. And I’ve spotted what might be foreshadowing something plot relevant’s going to happen with her ankles (I DON’T KNOW HOW, BUT GOD I PUT NOTHING PAST THIS STORY) so uh yeah??? either way it’s not good tho)

-”Obsessive and twisted love” is a running theme in this story, and while it’s generally acknowledged as unhealthy, it can be played for comedy in a way that could make viewers/readers uncomfortable. There’s a couple characters who’s entire thing so far is “obsessively in love with this one person” (and the one only focused on in the manga so far is one of the least interesting characters tbh ugh)

-The antagonist of the show is a member of a main character’s family, and the manner he acts towards pretty much everyone, including (and really especially) his family member, verges on seductive. This is presented as deliberately unsettling and treated as a marker of how unstable and scary he is- and though the backstory between them hasn’t been fully delved into, it’s pretty much all but confirmed he abused this family member physically and emotionally.

-The story has like, A LOT of queer subtext and pretty-heavy queer coding for one character especially, but the few times queerness blatantly comes up in the story, it’s played as a joke in the “haha that’d be kinda weird” way (aside from the rando boys who have a crush on Teru, handled pretty neutrally). It’s not as malicious as a lot of animanga can get (ONE MANGA INCIDENT ASIDE), but it’s something to Be Aware Of, and it makes it clear we’re unlikely to see subtext rise to text and makes some moments feel baity.

-And probably more I might have missed! The manga also has Some Shit in addition all the Good Shit that hasn’t been adapted yet, an early arc has Hanako crossing a serious line etc.

BUT despite how messy it is, I think it’s clear I have a lot of love for this story. In fact, I wouldn’t trade away a good chunk of its messiness (DEFINITELY SOME JUST NOT ALL), it kinda works for the characters and works in the “this story really feed my inner teen” way. Some of the trashy parts are exactly My Trash, basically.

So, I knew I’d ramble on for a while when I talked about his show, but if you’ve read this far, thanks, and I hope that means you’re gonna check out and maybe enjoy this story, bc i need more people to join me in Hanako Hell.

#toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #jibaku shonen hanako kun #winter 2020 anime #anime overview #hanako kun #nene yashiro #yashiro nene #kou minamoto #minamoto kou #yugi amane #amane yugi #my reviews

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arlingtonpark · 3 years

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Harrow the Ninth Act I Thoughts

This is all your fault, @ghostmartyr. If you hadn’t reblogged what seemed like heavy metal boy band fanart, I wouldn’t be in this hole. And for that, I hate you.

So.

When I first encountered the Locked Tomb online, I couldn’t tell if it was a story about edgy, neogothic, teenaged angst, or something better than that.

Turns out, it’s both.

But in a good way.

I love it. It’s great.

It’s unabashed, it’s thoughtful, it’s entertaining, it’s suspenseful.

Gideon the Ninth is finished, and after starting Harrow the Ninth, I decided to blog about it as I go.

I’ll be doing one post for every act of the book. I hope.

Let’s start with our new main character, Harrow. Newly reborn as a god and one of the only survivors of the last book.

So….

Right now, Harrow’s…

Um.

She’s uh…

-gestures at everything-

She’s fucked.

Fucked, broken, in the shit, started godhood on the wrong side of the bed.

200 babies were killed in the name of birthing her. Her parents died in front of her because of what she did. Death has always seemed to follow her, and she carries the burden of all that death.

Harrow despises her existence and wishes she were dead because of the circumstances of her birth, and yet for that very reason she is committed to living, because if she dies, all those sacrifices would be null.

She takes up the duties of governing the Ninth, she applies herself rigorously to mastering necromancy, and when the opportunity arises to become a lyctor, she jumps at it.

Harrow does this because it’s why all those people had to die. She was birthed to carry the Ninth’s legacy; its traditions and obligations and to some extent its very existence.

The twisted nature of the Ninth and her parents is inseparable from that legacy, so in a sense it was that legacy that led to her infanticidal birth, but regardless, this legacy is all she has. It’s all she was ever meant to have. And so she devoted herself to it.

Now that she’s a lyctor and her house’s future will be guaranteed, but to do it, she had to sacrifice Gideon, whom she loved.

It’s more of the same shit from her perspective: more people dying for her sake. 200 babies die to grant her obscene necromantic talent, her girlfriend dies so she can gain even more power. Harrow doesn’t mean to step on innocent people to get what she wants…but that’s always how it’s turned out for her.

But to add insult to injury, even after all she’s sacrificed, she still didn’t get exactly what she wanted.

Her house will have a future, but she can never return to it. She’s essentially divorced from the only thing that gave her life meaning.

She can never return to her old life; to the extent she saw that as desirable, she can’t have that. Her old life is gone forever.

Something also went wrong with her ascension to godhood. She’s violently sick, mentally unstable, and the powers she should have are…half baked, for lack of a better word.

Nobody said you could get hungover from ascending to godhood. Harrow should sue.

It’s like going in to surgery to remove a tumor and coming out lobotomized.

Is she even immortal?

It all stings of pointlessness. All that effort for nothing.

Worse than that; She lost everything. Her home, her love, her pride and dignity.

Her only purpose in life now is to fight these hell beasts that she’s never heard of before. Happy days ahead, surely.

Oh, and one of the people she’ll have to work with is named Gideon.

Does God hate her?

And then there’s God.

This guy is sus as hell.

He’s gracious and humble. Perpetually calm and soft spoken. Empathetic and understanding. That’s what He’s like in person.

But He’s…maybe the villain? I guess.

God works in mysterious ways, and I have no damn clue what His are, but it’s probably ugly.

Yes, He’s a cordial Dude…but he’s still the God-emperor of a galactic undead empire.

Dude wears a crown made from the bones of dead babies FFS.

Not to be accusatory, but this guy definitely has skeletons in his closet.

-bu-dum-tish-

One of the things that really got my attention while reading this series is how the magic system in this world is depicted. Usually, in fantasy stories, the magic system is depicted as being morally neutral. Good guys use it, bad guys it, but the magic itself just is.

The Locked Tomb Trilogy isn’t like that.

Necromancy is bad. Perverse, even.

All the necromancers are frail and sickly. Practicing it is deleterious on the body. Doing too much too fast with it causes even more pronounced harm. As in, bleeding from your sweat glands.

Necromancy works by manipulating the life force of living beings and, primarily, the death force those being give off when they die.

The forces of nature that necromancy utilizes are (apparently) fundamental to the universe, akin to the laws of nature, but the use of those forces in this way are clearly a perversion.

It’s sort of like a bad tv show, like Sword Art Online. Sure, the things that went into making the show are natural parts of the world, but you just can’t put those things together like that.

John and his empire epitomize that.

All known beings in the universe are fundamentally thalergetic in nature. They are beings who radiate life energy. Except for the planets of the empire. Those planets and the star they orbit are thanergetic in nature.

They literally radiate death. And they are apparently one of a kind in that regard.

John is the first necromancer. John used his newly harnessed powers to “resurrect” multiple planets that had died.

Except he didn’t really resurrect anything, he turned them into an entirely new form of being using his entirely new form of science that uses some kind of mechanism that doesn’t occur naturally.

What I’m getting at here is that everything about John, his power, and his empire is artificial. Man-made. Perhaps even John-made.

We don’t actually know what happened during the Resurrection. What killed off the planets, how John attained his God-like powers, and what life John lived before it.

Oh, yeah, and every planet the empire conquers is systematically killed over generations to fuel their necromancer’s powers.

Every planet God touches literally dies.

One thing I appreciate about this series is how layered the story is.

The Locked Tomb series is a fun, irreverent romp. It’s about allowing the past to rest in peace. It’s also surprisingly political.

The metaphor is pretty blunt: it’s about capitalism. What’s more, the metaphor seems to be from a progressive or maybe even socialist perspective.

Ok, so hear me out on this. This is less fan theory than speculation about the author’s intentions.

The empire is a society built on a system that requires them to move from planet to planet, gradually killing those planets until they have to evacuate and move to a new one.

This process of gradual death takes generations to play out, so apparently they don’t even consider it to be an event that happens.

The heart of this system is necromancy, a perverse science that is ultimately derived from natural phenomena.

This system places the most powerful necromancer atop a literal throne and worships them as God.

God’s disciples are the lyctors, second only to Him in power. They attained that power by a very special process.

The lyctoral process is exploitative. It requires the necromancer to use their cavalier as a sacrifice and to turn their soul into a power source.

The lyctoral process is built around domination. The necromancer, in sacrificing their cavalier, subsumes the cavalier’s soul into their being to gain power.

The lyctoral process is dehumanizing. The cavalier is degraded from a person to a mere battery, but the necromancer is degraded in a way as well. The necromancer can never return to their house, or any of the other houses for that matter. Instead they must fight and die for God in his battle against the Revenant Beasts.

If you’re progressive, this may sound familiar to you.

Relationships of exploitation, domination, and dehumanization. A society built around perversions. That rewards people with talent in those perversions with idolatry. That cold-heartedly and shortsightedly extracts every drop of usable resources from a planet until it is dead, then moves on to the next one.

To a socialist, this may sound a lot like capitalism.

Saying that is already bold enough for me, so I won’t try to argue that it’s a one to one allegory. Necromancy equals the profit motive, lyctors represent the relationship between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat (So I guess that means the non-lyctor necromancers are the petit bourgeoisie) and the empire is humanity.

You could make a case for it, but the hot takes in this post are already pretty spicy, so…

OMG Mercymorn. XD

Mercymorn is my favorite out of the new characters. She’s a bitch.

Snide, rude, assertive, bitchy, and standoffish. No, it’s not that I want her to step on me, I just can’t get enough of her interactions.

I guess in real life she wouldn’t be fun to be around, but as a character in a book, she steals every scene. Her arrogant and bitchy remarks always make me laugh.

My one wish heading in to Act II: that Mercymorn is in charge of Ianthe’s training.

Just so she can kick her ass for not measuring up to her standards.

#locked tomb #locked tomb spoilers #htn #htn spoilers #bury the dead but not your gays

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valkerymillenia · 4 years

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Hi, I asked about jason’s memory in my last ask in cbds. Thanks for answering. It made me wonder would jason gets flashes about his time with dick and the twins?I really admire your patience in writing your story. This is why i’ll fail as a writer, because i have absolutely no patience. I mean I would probably rush my story and that would make it turn bad.

Ok, so, no. At first Jason has no memory between his death and the Pit. Eventually though some things start to trigger pieces of memories that he doesn't really understand, his full memory takes quite a while to return and by then he's dug himself into too deep a hole.

Also, you sound EXACTLY like me when I started writing.

So I'mma ramble now. Feel free to ignore the boring story time beneath the cut but I promise it has a point, it's just bound to be long because I don't know what brevity is and when I'm sleep deprived I talk to much.

Before I started writing I always wanted to put stories down into words but I never ever considered writing books, I used to make elaborate fantasy worlds, characters and lives in my head that dragged on for weeks on end, slowly becoming more and more complex, it was pure escapism, but I never thought about writing those stories down precisely because I though "I'll never have the patience to develop this, I'll just rush it or quit halfway".

Then when I was in 10th grade there was a writing contest in my school and two of my cousins were teachers there and writers themselves and encouraged me to enter (there were 3 categories actually- teachers, 7th to 9th grade and 10th to 12th grade). I figured, why not?

The story had to be handwritten under a pseudonym with a 5 page limit (no word limit because it was handwritten, you just had to use standard test paper for 5 pages, and yes, this was normal because not everyone had access to a computer to type their work), it was fiction under the theme "stories of our people" and the judges were a panel of teachers and one famous writer (he had a very popular YA adventure series and some great mythology based novels, unfortunately he passed away a few years later).

Now, bear in mind 2 things. This was a school surrounded by forest in the hills of a small rural city but it was the biggest rural city around and all the other towns and villages sent their kids to high school there, the second thing to remember is that high school is mandatory education in my country so dropping out isn't really an option. Therefore we had hundreds of kids in the high school grades (somewhere between 600 and 800 kids, I think, there's less nowadays because the next town over grew immensely and has its own high school now).

You'd think kids wouldn't be interested in a writing competition but the author that was coming to judge was very popular at the time and, well, it was a high school in the middle of the woods in a small countryside town. Things were boring, ok? We didn't have a mall or a movie theater or anything, so when something popped up to break the boredom (or someone even remotely famous showed up) everyone jumped at it.

So a lot of people participated and me? I was just dragging my feet because "I didn't have the patience", I waited until the last two days before the deadline and poured out a story last minute with a shitty penname based on my mythology obsession (Valkery Thot, you can laugh about it nowadays but Thot was the Egyptian good of scribes and I was NERD).

The story was about two kids that never liked each other growing up even though they lived close to each other, they end up crossing paths on the same adventure to a local inaccessible waterfall we have here in the mountain, they were looking for treasure based on stories and maps from each of their grandfathers and find a cave together where they discover etchings left by said grandfathers and, long story short, the treasure was friendship.

(Sappy as hell, I know, but I was thinking the whole YA adventure mindframe, ok? Plus, it wasn't my preferred writing language, which is English, and I was 15 and literally improvised the whole thing last minute, didn't even draft anything, I just wrote it directly and barely proofread for typos.)

So I entered the contest last minute with no real hopes, it was just an experiment but it proceed to be way more entertaining than I though, without the pressure of actually wanting to win it was easier than I thought.

Award day came and we all gathered in this fancy huge auditorium we had, it was the fanciest part of the whole school but it still couldn't fit everyone in there, then again most students that came just wanted an excuse not to go to class that morning. Anyway...

One of my cousins won in the teacher category and I was all proud. I watched the 3 winners of the 7th to 9th grade category being awarded and started getting distracted (because unless I was drawing or stimming I had the attention span of a goldfish). Then the 10th to 12th grade category came and I was so distracted that they had to call me twice before I realized I'd won second place!

First place went to 12th grade boy that wrote a story called "The Message", very purple prose and perfect grammar, lovely story, but I digress.

Anyway, the famous author was the one to give me my prize and told me my story was very vivid, there were some typos but he was impressed by the creativity and the amount of action I packed into 5 pages while still giving it a satisfying ending. I barely grasped what the heck he was saying at the time because I still had this certainty that I bullshitted the whole thing last minute and couldn't even remember half of what I wrote but I asked him if he thought I "could be real writer someday" and he just said I already was a "real writer" because all it took to be a real writer was putting it it words, that and actually enjoying the world I made up.

It stuck with me. I didn't realize right away that that was my dream, that I wanted to be a novelist, I still wanted to be an artist and was stuck under all those expectations to choose a proper college path and career (I thought I could do law, AH! what was I thinking?!) but it really stuck with me and shortly after I started getting really deep into a side of fandom that I hadn't experienced before (because I never had much access to internet before that) and started to want to put my stories into words even if I never finished them, I still didn't think I had the patience or the originally.

A few years later I realized that when it comes to something I'm passionate about I do indeed have the patience, by age 12 I had already been writing long comprehensive character bios, story details, transcribed quotes, meta theories, summaries and collecting tons of info of all my favorite fandoms and not to share, just for fun (and probably OCD) this went on for years before I even found out that the internet had whole websites and encyclopedias for such things (not like today though but yeah), and it had never occurred to me the patience that that in itself required.

My first fics were atrocious! Mostly because I made A LOT of typos due to not being used to writing in English full time but my thoughts came more naturally in English and I didn't enjoy writing fiction in Portuguese anyway (poetry though? Absolutely), I also used extremely exaggerated plot points, be it drama, angst or romance. But people liked the stories for the content and not the accurate spelling so I kept at it. I never used to finish my fics back then, not due to lack of patience but mostly because I put too much pressure on myself to make a story perfect and would stop having fun.

When I started writing purely for fun and passion (and realized that not every story needed to be a novel length epic) that's when I started churning out my best (and ironically longest) stories and getting better and better.

I won't lie, having readers encouraging me was key, it's half of the fuel I need to keep going, outside interest is an incredible motivator, but mostly I just realized that the key to good writing is:

Less pressure + more passion = all the patience you need

This doesn't just apply to original work though, it's also about fanfic.

Holy crap, that was a lot of words just to sum everything up on that one bold sentence... See, I could never have written this much when I was in high school, that's also a matter of practicing until letting your thoughts out into writing becomes second nature but that's a whole other story.

Anyway... Thanks for the lovely message. It's the story of thing that means the world to me ❤️

(and PS- no, I haven't won any other contests since that one but I have published articles on magazines, no published novels yet though because I don't think my original ideas are ever good enough to follow through).

#CBDS fic #rach rambles #writing woes #writing contest story

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flamingo-writes · 5 years

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Would you sleep next to me? — Luffy x Reader

Summary: A simple act of kindness was what made Luffy ask you to join his crew. It was the comfort he felt in your embrace. A gentle warmth that helped soothe the wound left by Ace's death.

Author’s Note: I’m procrastinating my homework bwahahaha I thought about this imagine last night when all of a sudden I had this rush of appreciation for Luffy. He’s one of the biggest Cinnamon Rolls out there ok. Female!Reader Implied

Word Count: 2.4K words.

Warnings: maybe a little bit of angst? But don’t worry, there’s lots of fluff afterwards.

Not long after leaving Fishman Island, the Strawhats reached a small island. A quiet peaceful island. The very first island without any sort of conflict going on. As awed as they were, they took this chance to rest, get to explore the dense forest and get enough supplies for their trip deeper into the New World.

"Two days" answered an elder lady after Nami asked her how long would take the log pose to charge.

Two days was the perfect time for a decent rest.

It was fate what pulled you towards the newcomers. And soon you found yourself telling the pirates about the island. And being the warm welcoming people the Strawhats were, they invited you to the small campfire they were having that night at the beach close to the Thousand Sunny.

Moved by their friendly ways, you agreed. A few townspeople were there too, all of them chatting with the Strawhwats, hearing to their endless marvelous adventures and stories. And as the moon made its way across the nightsky, people left little by little, back to their homes for a good night sleep.

Except for you. You were so immersed into your conversation with the captain and the first mate, the two of them being a considerably weird dynamic duo. Until eventually, you fell asleep just like the crew. The remnants of what was once a blazing fire were still warm enough to keep the surroundings warm. Cooing you just perfectly.

The kind of deep sleep you were having was the kind of sleep that made you feel far beyond refreshed by the morning, waking up with the energy to sail around the world without a single drop of sweat. However, something woke you up. Among the soft snores of the pirates, there was yet another sound that woke you up. A gentle almost audible whimper. You followed the whimper until you reached Strawhat Luffy, and noticed the tears falling from his closed eyes.

For the last two years, every now and then Luffy would have nightmares, reliving over and over Ace's death. And the pain of having lost both his brothers made him feel lonely at times. However, no one in the crew knew about this, no one knew about how most nights their captain had a terrible night. Luffy never told anyone about his nightmares. No one was aware of it until now.

"Luffy" you whispered kneeling next to him and shaking him lightly, however, there was no response “Luffy”

After calling his name a few times, he finally snapped his eyes open and looked confused at the night sky.

"(Name)" he whispered cleaning his tears right away.

"Are you alright? You were having a nightmare" you murmured worried.

"Y-yeah..." he lied sitting up. "I-I'm fine. It was just a dream" as much as he smiled, you could still see the pain clinging to him.

"You don't seem very convinced, are you sure you’re alright?" You added and sat on the sand into a more comfortable position as Luffy simply remained quiet "Here" you opened your arms, to which Luffy quickly responded to and hugged you.

After you wrapped your arms around him, he understood this was all he needed. Who’d say how a couple of arms holding you tightly could soothe just a piercing pain right away? Feeling your arms wrapped around him made him feel some sort of comfort he hadn't felt in a while. And the sudden realization overwhelmed him and he started sobbing once again. His face hidden your shoulders, he clung to your embrace as he sobbed quietly.

"It's okay" you whispered hugging him even tighter. "Its okay. Everything will be fine" you purred, your voice gently caressing the open wound Ace left behind, encouraging him to sob slightly louder.

He didn’t take long before he fell asleep in your arms. His breathing had now slowed down and got deeper. He no longer was shaking from the sobbing, and his body was relaxed against yours. You called his name, in an attempt to know whether he was asleep or not. And after no receiving any sign or answer, you assumed he was asleep.

Thinking of the not so comfortable position the two of you were, you decided to put him back on the ground. Gently, you put him on the sand next to his iconic straw hat. Such a wide smile, and yet, he’s haunted at night by something horrible, you thought, what could be causing him so much pain?

You stared at him for a couple of seconds and before you were able to stand up, you felt something tugging your shirt. You turned around to find Luffy his eyes still closed.

"(Name)?" He purred. "Would you sleep next to me?" He opened his eyes a little. A tiny trace of fear showing up within them, as you understood he was afraid of having nightmares again.

With a painful heart squeeze, you nodded and lied next to him. No words were needed in that moment. He snuggled next to you like a scared kitten as you protectively cuddled him, stroking his hair. He mumbled something with his face buried underneath your jaw, something you interpreted as a ‘thank you’. Your fingers ran through his hair, massaging his scalp, as the most peculiar warmth ran through your body. A sudden urge to protect him from any danger within the world fueled, as you thought how one of the most wanted criminals by the World Government snuggled vulnerable next to you.

"It's alright. I got you" you murmured, feeling him nod, his face buried on your neck.

The next morning, all of the Strawhats felt rather confused when they found the two of you cuddling. Luffy wasn't a flirty guy, and last night you didn't seem to flirt to anyone in the crew. And seeing the two of you cuddled up in a messy limb tangle surprised all of them. Not that they really cared, but they’d never seen this sort of behaviour from his spontaneous captain.

After waking up, Luffy was once again his usual self. However, he remained close to you throughout the day. As you kept talking to them, you got to know a little bit better the infamous Strawhat Pirates and feeling quite charmed by each and everyone of them. As the Strawhats got to better appreciate your gentle and open personality, understanding why would Luffy feel so drawn to you.

That night, Sanji made dinner in the Sunny, and invited you to tag along. The usual cheerful and yet chaotic atmosphere filled the kitchen. Everyone was laughing and talking, making you wonder why would the Marines consider them such a threat. They all seemed pretty funny and chill in their own unique way.

After everyone had finished eating, Luffy grabbed your hand and pulled you with him outside the kitchen. With his usual warm smile, he showed you around, all the wonders the Thousand Sunny had to offer, only to fuel your curiosity for the crew and how it was like to travel with them. Eventually, you sat with the captain on the deck, as your hands played with the grass.

"(Name)" you met Luffy's eyes as his smile was now shining brighter than any star in the sky. "I want you to join my crew!" He cheered.

You blinked several times, processing what he'd just told you.

"B-but, I'm not a pirate...I-I..." Were the only words your brain got to come up with and the excitement now fueling your heart urged you to say yes.

"You're kind! And everyone likes you! Besides, you're a hunter right? You know how to use knives and use a bow and arrow"

"I mean yes...I don't know if I'm strong enough, though. You guys have quite a reputation..."

"You can always train with Zoro if you want to get stronger! Ussop is our sniper, you can train with him too!"

A sudden urge for adventure, and Luffy’s wide smile seemed to make your head spin, and hypnotize you. Except for a tiny voice at the back of your head telling you to really think about it instead of just going with your first instinct. After all, Piracy was far more complicated than just sailing the seas.

"Think about it! We'll be leaving tomorrow" Luffy said bumping his forehead with yours. “I’d really like to have you in the crew!”

You closed your eyes, sighing deeply. His close proximity only made your heart beat faster, as the tiny voice seemed to get louder. "Alright” You began “I will think about it, though...I'll tell you my answer tomorrow, alright?" As you spoke, Luffy sat back, his huge eyes on yours with a hopeful spark behind them.

"Shishishishi" Luffy giggled. "You're gonna say yes!"

The amount of time Luffy clung to you like a koala only seemed to increase with the days. Not that you complained about it. As a matter of fact, his constant presence was beginning to feel like a drug. Ever since you’d joined the Strawhat crew, Luffy seemed to always want you by his side.

Up to this point, everyone knew you liked each other, the constant knowing looks made you blush constantly, and having Luffy close to you most of the time only made it worse. Your feelings for him were so obvious to everyone except for Luffy himself, who wasn't even aware of his own feelings for you.

In luffy's eyes, you were his closest friend, and he loved hugging you, and was constantly with his arms wrapped around you. He eventually realised that he wouldn't have nightmares when he slept with you, which only encouraged him to spend almost every night with you. Whether of it was you falling asleep next to him in the guys quarters, or him in the girl's room.

And over time, it was not only hugs. Forehead and cheek kisses eventually became a thing. And soon, Luffy found this constant urge to kiss your cheek whenever he was hugging you. On the other hand, you’d always kiss his forehead or the top of his head whenever he snuggled next to you. The crew found unbearingly adorable, and at the same time they couldn’t believe Luffy was still not aware of his feelings for you, and everyone wanted to slap some sense into the captain Even with that, everyone already considered you a couple.

It was until one day, you got out of the shower into the girls room, already changed, and found Luffy on your bed contemplating the ceiling.

"Hey there" you broke the silence as Luffy looked at you and smiled widely sitting up.

"I discovered something" He cheered. “And I have to tell you about it!”

"What is it?" You asked curious walking to your bed, as Luffy jumped to the ground and grabbing your hand at once.

"Let's go outside first. It's nice and sunny out there!" He guided you to the Sunny’s head.

Not only Luffy’s spot, but whenever he just wanted to spend a bit of quiet time with you away from the rest of the crew he’d take you there and cuddle you for a couple of hours. Just the two of you, in silence, looking at the ocean.

"Robin said I should tell you about my feelings for you" He started so casually as your heart stopped for a brief second, amazed at his straight forwardness.

"She did?" You chuckled awkwardly, thinking how maybe she did that on purpose.

"While you were training with Zoro...she asked me if I had feelings for you” He began “and I didn't know what she meant by that. She started explaining me what it's like to have feelings for someone, and everything she said is exactly what I feel when I'm with you. She then told me that if I had feelings for you, I should tell you" As much as you tried to fight your blushing, it wasn’t until he said the last part that indeed, Robin had said that on purpose.

You stared at him feeling how your heart squeezed painfully from how adorable and oblivious Luffy was. He was talking about his feelings for you so casually, while you were struggling to even bring yourself to open your mouth. You felt yourself blush as not a single sound made it out of your mouth and you leaned forward and pecked his lips gently.

"Luffy, I-" you stuttered as you met his eyes, feeling your face turn hotter and hotter "I have feelings for you too"

Luffy’s smile grew wider across his face as he pulled you in, wrapping his arms around you, burying his face on your neck and breathing in the scent he adored so much.

"Does that make you my girlfriend?" He said breaking the hug.

"Do you want me to be your girlfriend?" You giggled.

Luffy chuckled and stole a gentle kiss from your lips, just like you’ve done before. He didn't know much about relationships but he knew people kissed their significant other on the lips. Conecting the two dots wasn’t hard for him, making him want to dance and sing filled with happiness.

"I want you to be my girlfriend" He said cupping your face in his hands and giving you the smile that always melted your heart.

"Then I will" you murmured, this time it was you burying your face on his neck as Luffy hummed in approval.

Luffy kissed your head before wrapping his arms around you once more and squeezing you. He thought about what Robin told him earlier, and thought it had been a good idea to tell you about his feelings. It surprised him that you felt the same for him. A warm feeling ran through his body making him feel genuinely happy.

From the deck, all the strawhats gathered close to the helm, all of them silent, hearing your conversation with Luffy, appreciating the scene. All of them with smiles on their faces, warmed by the sweet moment you two were having. Franky and Chopper sobbing, as Brook was murmuring something about composing a nice tune for the two of you, to which Sanji agreed and mentioned something about having a small feast to celebrate.

In the meantime, you were cuddling with Luffy on the Sunny’s head just like you’d always do. Smiles drawn on both of your faces. Luffy was always a very touchy person, and loved hugging those he cared for. Your hugs however, felt the warmest, the sweetest of all. He felt genuinely happy that he’d asked you to join his crew.

#one piece imagines #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy #luffy x reader #mugiwara no luffy #straw hat luffy #one piece #one piece fanfiction

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mirohed · 5 years

Text

park seonghwa | the trouble with twenty

pairing: park seonghwa + fem!reader (theres ONE mention of the reader being female im kinda mad i thought this was gender neutral the whole time)

wc: 3.0k

genre: fluff and angst (but the fluff wins)

warning: mentions of death

concept: when you fall in love with someone that isn’t your soulmate, you give a piece of your soul to them; failure to find your soulmate before running out of soul to give results in one’s death + you stop physically aging when you hit the age of twenty.

a/n: ok holy shit i ,, never finish my wips 99% of the time so im glad this could b the 1% !! s/o to @akokj @cheelix @lvryeol @trulyjaehyuk & finally a big big thank you to one of my irls who’s been w it since its beginnings in early january SDHJS

The universe, you find, seems to work in mysterious ways; you meet your first boyfriend in high school. The both of you are wide-eyed teenagers with no sense of how love works, but it's fine as long as you're together. It's Jongho that sits across from you at the diner and sips from your shared milkshake. It's Jongho that takes you to drive-in theaters and plants a nervous kiss to your lips on the ride home.

It's a sweet love that blooms in the summer, a whirlwind sweeping you higher and higher, and you relish the view. Being with him comes with this sweet, bubbling feeling ("Like soda?" he had joked one afternoon) that begins in the pit of your stomach, spreading outward until you sport matching carefree grins and aching cheeks.

The year is 1939, and you're on the cusp of your nineteenth birthday when all that has gone up begins to come crashing down.

You're about to fall asleep one night when you sit up, a sharp pain shooting through your whole body. You know what this feeling is; you've had to help Jongho through it when he went through the same thing.

Everyone says losing a part of one's soul is both a tragedy and an expected outcome. You've always maintained the opinion that the universe enacts its own cruel, unusual punishment on those who love anyone besides their fated partner. Those you love more than life itself are the ones who end up killing you.

Loving Jongho burns. It sears your whole body with an inhuman heat, and your mouth opens in a silent, pained scream.

And just as quickly as it had come, the pain vanishes, leaving a faint heat under your skin.

You turn nineteen. You still live in the same town you were born in. You reexamine your life.

Growing old isn't for you; too much to do, too much to see. You're meant for things greater than wasting away as his housewife and nursing his children.

A few nights later, you disappear with nothing but a few bags, whatever fuel remains in your car, and the road ahead to keep you company.

You wish you could say you lose track of time from there, but you don't. Time passes, and the world patches itself from years of war and anger. You return to what could be considered the new normal a little hardened from harrowing times, but otherwise no worse for wear.

You spend time with others — enough to break a few hearts. The feeling of new life, pieces of other people’s souls, being breathed into skin that grows older is a high unlike any other. You push down any thoughts of love, running from town to town the second things feel too real for you. Your body stops aging, and it’s a little jarring at first, but you grow used to seeing a twenty-year-old you in the mirror, even as you age far past it.

Your friends and family are still alive and well. You write to them sometimes, letters with no return address. You know your family wants you back, wants you to find the one your soul aches for, wants you tied down. You tried to understand it, you really did, but all it got you were sympathetic looks and a divide that wedges itself deeper and deeper and deeper.

At some point you realize that the letters you wrote, once full of emotion, have become monotonous, mere updates with no real commentary. You stop writing them.

The transition from summer's vivid green to autumn's dusty orange marks your arrival in a new town. You're idly swirling a drink in your hands when you lock eyes with a leather-clad young man from across the bar.

It's 1953 when you meet Mingi. He's exhilaration, speeding down empty land on a motorcycle he keeps pristine. He's everything your parents might have frowned at, bruised and bloody knuckles that have seen one too many bar fights. You come to find that he keeps a surprisingly soft heart locked behind it, one that opens easily to you.

The two of you are on a road trip when you feel that familiar rush, and you help him pull over. He grips your hands, bites into the blanket in the backseat, until it's over. He lets you take the wheel until you reach a rest stop.

You remember the night you gave the second piece of your soul away. It's a chilly autumn night — your anniversary. You hadn't listened to him when he had told you to dress for cold weather, and you were paying the price. Shivering, you run your hands up and down your arms in an attempt to warm up as you get off his motorcycle. It doesn't work, and Mingi notices, doing his best to hide a grin.

"What did I tell you?" he teases. You're about to open your mouth for a retort when he shrugs his jacket off (that same worn leather piece you saw a year ago) and helps you fit your arms in the sleeves. It's an action he's used to, but there's something about the atmosphere tonight that makes your breath hitch. You look up at him, and he grins before leaning in.

The kiss is slow, his mouth moving languidly against yours as the city sleeps below. He pulls away first, biting back a chuckle when your lips try to follow. “I love you,” he whispers as he pulls you into his embrace.

And again, the pain that makes your blood boil. Somewhere in the haze of pain, between bunching your hands in his shirt and loud curses into the night, you tell yourself this is the last time you give your soul to another.

You feel a subtle pain in your chest as you head to the next town, leaving Mingi and the memories in the rearview mirror.

Time passes, and you see enough winters to make you sick of snow. You become the longest-lived person in known history, and it makes you famous.

You're contacted to speak about your accounts from major historical events (none of which are particularly useful), and find yourself in movies and documentaries, on talk shows, and more than once as a speaker for a new museum. There was a point where you could turn a corner and someone would recognize you as the only living "immortal."

It's one of those corners turned, on one of those countless winters, that you run into a young man. You don’t miss the way he swallows lightly before clearing his throat to apologize.

You've long since lost track of time when you meet Hongjoong. (But if you had to give an estimate, you'd put it around the 21st century.) You don't think it matters when he takes you for coffee, pulling you into a cozy corner cafe. He draws you in, little by little, and you pretend to not notice.

Where he is open, you are closed — on your fifth date, he tells you that he doesn't think he'll find his soulmate anytime soon.

("The world is too big," he says, bumping shoulders as you walk side by side. "I'm too old to keep going."

"How old?" you ask. He hums, takes a preparatory sip from his drink.

"Almost forty by now, I think."

You wonder if he's forgotten that you must be more than twice his age. Instead you say, "Really? You don't look a day over twenty." He grins at that, a beautiful thing that leads to a laugh you could never tire of hearing.)

You stay with him for much longer than you need to, long after he's given one of the last pieces of his soul to you. You wait for the "right time" to leave, but the right time never comes. Time passes. Seasons change. The two of you stay together for many winters before you finally come to your senses.

It happens one morning when you wake up shivering because he's hogged the blanket (again). As you try to reclaim it, you feel the familiar heat threaten to boil over.

You barely manage to get to the bathroom before the pain begins to crash over you in full force. After it's over, you remove your hand from your mouth, refusing to look at the tooth marks left behind.

There’s no more waiting for the right time, you think over the klaxon that blares in your head. It’s here and now.

Leaving Hongjoong is a terrifying thought, and somehow even harder to follow through with. His love isn't like Jongho's, sweet and awkward; it isn't like Mingi's, a fast-paced adrenaline rush; it's different. Softer. He reminds you of home — or at least, as home as a person can get for someone like you.

And unlike with Jongho and Mingi, the thought of staying with Hongjoong is very realistic. You've caught yourself picturing it more than once, and had to chastise yourself each time.

You pack your things for the millionth time, but as you glance back at your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, you realize you can't just leave him without an explanation. The years you’ve spent together mean more to you than that.

Hongjoong wakes up hours later to a tear-stained letter. (By the time he finishes it, the ink is smudged and barely legible. His tears have mixed with yours in a sort of last kiss between them, and the thought causes him to sob once more.)

Joong,

If you’re reading this, I guess I must have already left. I wish things could be different I know you, and I already know that you’re gonna take this personally and blame yourself for not being enough. You are enough. You’re more than enough. I think I’m just selfish

Anyway I just want to thank you for...everything. The past few years have been better than I can express, and I think that’s what scares me. You’re the You’ll find your soulmate soon, whether they’re your meant to be or not. I’m sorry it couldn’t be me.

I love you.

Goodbye.

You definitely keep your guard up after that. Through every date you go on and every significant other you burn through, your walls stay up.

You've grown nostalgic over the past decade. Using the wildly advanced technology of who-knows-when, you track down a list of death sites.

You visit your family first. Your heart breaks a bit seeing the empty space in the shared family headstone. This was where you were supposed to be laid to rest. You turn away from the dilapidated cemetery, pulling up the coordinates to your next destination.

You find yourself staring at the fountain in the middle of a shopping mall. According to your holotech, this is where Jongho is buried. Your lips form a disapproving line as you close your eyes and try not to think about how he would have loved this place. You try not to think about him taking you here and nudging you in the direction of the arcade or food court as you rush out the doors.

They've gone and built a neighborhood over the cemetery where you would have found Mingi. From the looks of it, it looks like its residents are particularly affluent, and you can hear him snort in your ear. Even after years apart, you swear you can still smell the strong scent of cigarettes that followed him like a lost puppy. He would have hated his fate, and you offer a morbid chuckle in his memory.

You're crouched beside Hongjoong's tombstone, running a thumb over the warm stone. The birds chirp amongst themselves in a nearby tree, and you're thankful for the distraction. He wasn't buried with another person; you hope he managed to find someone regardless. You read the inscription — To you, forever and always — and swallow the lump of guilt that’s lodged itself in your throat.

It's on a calm spring morning that your holo rings. The centennial edition of a documentary you were in is currently being filmed, and the staff is requesting you interview with them again. You were going to accept anyway, but the producer piques your interest when she mentions another similarly...long-lived person. The trepidation in her voice is obvious, but you ignore it. Instead, you ask for the name of this immortal and to be interviewed with them. ("I thought I was the only one around," you had laughed into the phone. "It'd be good to make a new friend." The producer gave a pitying hum before agreeing.)

You try to search for any evidence of this new immortal, but come up with virtually nothing. You're more than a little disappointed that this person isn't milking their age for all it's worth, but you suppose they’re just more private than you are; after all, their existence is a relatively recent discovery.

When you first meet Seonghwa, you find it difficult to breathe. He's handsome, with a tall frame and a cute smile that would have caught your eye regardless.

Seeing him also hits you with a feeling you've dreaded for hundreds of years that makes your chest tighten. (In hindsight, you should have known exactly who he had to be, considering his similarly long life.) When you make eye contact, you can tell he feels the same immediate attraction. He has the audacity to smile.

"Finally," he murmurs. It's reverent, as if he's finally fulfilled his life's purpose. Your clench your jaw, ball your hands into fists so tight your knuckles go white, and narrow your eyes. Your heart's going a mile a minute, and you're choosing to interpret it as anger.

You've spent centuries building your fame on a foundation of nothing but broken hearts and your own ambition, and for what?

You're not sure how old you are when you find yourself on the downswing. You know that your body will start to physically age, and in about sixty years, you will have met the same fate as everyone you've left behind. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but you swallow it, at least for the time being.

The interview goes off without a hitch, and you make to leave after thanking the staff when —

"Wait!" Biting back a curse, you continue moving (and make an effort to go faster). Unfortunately, Seonghwa's more than capable of keeping up with you.

"Look," he begins, running a hand through his hair, "I don't claim to know your relationship situation, but I'd at least like it if we were friends." He focuses on the polished toe of his shoe and gives an anxious chuckle that seems to be more for himself than you. "After all, we're soulmates. You might not believe in them, but I've imagined what it would be like to finally meet my soulmate since I was young."

You don't know how (you blame the universe), but you go out for lunch with him after that. Much of the meal is spent in silence (although you've got to take the blame for this one), and it's not until you're almost done that he strikes up a conversation.

"Were you hiding?" He twists the straw of his drink between two fingers before making eye contact.

"I don't hide. You've probably seen me around in some ad or another on the holo. Maybe even before that, when people still used computers and printed newspapers." He narrows his eyes a bit, trying to remember, but comes up with nothing. "I always thought it was you that hid. I've been all over the world, but this was the first time I've ever heard news of another immortal."

"I believe in fate. I've taken things as they came because I knew that in the end, it would be you and me. Turns out I was right."

You don't know how (you're still blaming the universe), but you exchange contact information. You go on more...friendly excursions with Seonghwa.

("Why not cut out the middleman and call them dates?" he asks, settling down on the couch next to you.

"They're not dates. We're not together, are we?" You turn the movie on, marking the end of the conversation.

When you fall asleep latched onto his arm, your head on his shoulder, he plants a soft kiss on your forehead. You wake up that morning wrapped in a blanket that wasn't there last night.)

You don't know how (actually, you do), but "friendly excursions" eventually turn into dates.

(The two of you sit at a park bench, listening to rustling leaves and the distant noise of cars passing.

"Is this a date?" you ask, taking a spoonful of his ice cream, your own sitting empty on your lap.

"They're not dates," Seonghwa parrots. "We're not together, are we?"

"Let's change that. Date me?"

"I thought you'd never ask.")

Dating Seonghwa is much like being wrapped in a warm blanket. He's caring and sweet and so thoughtful that it makes your head spin. You realize that somewhere along the way, you had lost the joy and wonder that came with life. Luckily for you, each date (whether it's a shared pizza in his apartment or a hike somewhere new) restores an optimism that you didn’t know you missed.

Decades pass, and the two of you are on your daily walk. Your bodies start to show their age, but when you look in the mirror, you still see youth alight in your eyes.

("When we first met, I thought that it was all downhill from there, but I was proven wrong."

"It's been a long time since I've heard you say you were wrong."

"And each time, I tell you to not get used to it.")

When the life slips away from you both, you promise to meet each other in the next life and every one that follows.

The universe, as mysteriously as it may work, hears this request and tucks it away, ready to see it through.

#ateez scenario #ateez imagine #ateez fluff #ateez angst #seonghwa scenario #seonghwa imagine #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa angst #park seonghwa #choi jongho #song mingi #kim hongjoong #seonghwa #jongho #mingi #hongjoong #let this show up in the tags #ari.doc

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