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oceansoul001 · 2 days ago

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So it's been around two weeks now since I've finished Kingdom Come Deliverance 2, and to tell you all that there has not been a single day that I haven't thought about this game would be such a big understatement. Cause I'm not sure there has been a single hour that I'm awake that I haven't thought about it. And it's so weird! Let me explain.

I mean, it's not atypical for me to be fascinated by a piece of culture, be it a game, a movie, a tv series, a book, whatever. But this, this is something else, on a completely different level, and for the love of everything I just can't explain it! Maybe two weeks it's still super fresh, maybe it's because I'm now still playing the first KCD, what keeps me within this world, but I find myself constantly going back to thinking about it, about the story, about the characters, and most of all of course about Henry & Hans, and how special they feel to me.

It is particularly weird with Henry, because he is this strange amalgam of a written character and a player character, a sort-of-my-avatar in this world, but at the same time quite defined. I cannot compare this balance to any other game protagonist really, every other (that I know of) was either one or another, with my preference being always the custom character with some defined characteristics - meaning custom looks and gender, even if the backstory or a general vibe was not changeable (like, let's say, a Dark Urge in BG3 is for me a custom character, even if some crucial parts of them are well defined). But Henry's not like that, he always looks like Henry and sounds like Henry. At the same time, the flexibility of how he can react to the world is wider than with a typical written character. And even if within the game story we cannot actually change or influence what happens, generally the same things in the main plot always happen to my Henry and to your Henry, I think we can still differ in interpretation, what it actually means for MY Henry, and it can differ from what it means for YOUR Henry. And neither of us would be incorrect.

Some people might compare this maybe to the Witcher series, which is probably the closest, yes, but for me it's still completely different. I never WAS Geralt in my heart in any game from the trilogy. I played as Geralt, I made some choices, I picked a romance, I was immersed in the stories etc, but it was always the same Geralt to me, one and established character, not MY character. Maybe because he was first and foremost the book character in my head, and much later a video game protagonist, so it might feel different for other people, but I never had with him this weird fluid feeling of being him and not being him when I played the games. And I have it with Henry. I don't know if it makes any sense at all to anybody beside me.

And with Henry, it feels different, it feels as if I partially were Henry, when I played; I would not ask myself "Hmm, what would Henry do in this situation", it was rather "What would I do", with me being Henry at that point. With me taking over the emotions that my Henry would feel at a given moment. This again might feel as a regular thing for some people, who immerse themselves easily into defined protagonists, but it is not typical for me. And I tell you more - I have this... Thing... That it is much more difficult for me to find my own voice in a male protagonist. I can love them and root for them, of course, but it is like watching a movie or reading a book. Not "becoming" them when I'm playing as them in a video game.

I'm this kind of RPG player that always, like ALWAYS, plays as a female character, if I have a choice. I've never thought about it much, or why it's that way, but it is something I am very conscious about. And with Henry it's somehow different, it's like the way he is written and presented leaves still a place for me to blend in somewhere as well, despite the fact that he actually has an unchangeable face and an unchangeable voice. ...Or maybe it is partially because of that? Meaning that Henry is NOT your 'typical male video game protagonist', thank gods. But it cannot be just that, as there are definitely more characters in other games that do not fall into this category as well, and they don't leave me with the same feeling Henry does. I cannot explain it any better I'm afraid, I just feel this special connection between myself as a player and Henry as a protagonist that I have not felt before. And it makes him so, so special to me.

With Hans it is much easier to explain of course. Everyone loves Hans. He is funny, and witty, and cocky, and caring, and emotional, and vulnerable, and yes, he is sometimes self-absorbed, but he is also this pure, naive idealist - I LOVE the part when he says to Brabant that the role of the nobility is to protect the people they rule over, because I know that he genuinely believes that! He is this type of character that I always feel the need to protect, even if he doesn't need it actually at a given moment. Like in the framework of the game, when I AM Henry, I would gladly carry him over any puddle, so that he always stays safe, and warm, and comfy, and I would die for him no questions asked at any given point, even if it meant like the worst possible game ending for me as a player. Have I already mentioned that I love Hans?

But there is also one more layer, the layer that in my head is simply labeled as "Henry&Hans", together. And this is probably THE weirdest part to explain from all of this babbling. But I've got to try. So generally, when it comes to romances in fiction, I would say that yes, I enjoy a good romance, I really like when it is part of a story, I root for characters that I like to get together. But I rarely think about it outside of enjoying said fiction. I am usually not much of a shipper, don't read fanfictions, don't download fanarts, etc. I am now trying to recall when was the last time that I was really, like REALLY invested in a fictional ship, and I don't know, I think it might have been in 2017, when The Last Jedi premiered, and I was immensely angry that Rey and Kylo Ren didn't get together. It was freaking 8 years ago!

It is a bit different when it comes to romances in video games with customizable protagonists, because in that case I don't only expect to be immersed, I demand to be immersed, so to speak, if this is supposed to work. I need to feel something, anything, to be engaged in a romance that I am supposed to be an active part of, meaning choosing a character to romance, picking dialogue options, enjoying interactions, etc. And it happens quite rare. Most of romances in video games are just an additional mechanic of a sort, and choosing "I am going to romance this character" is not much different than "I am going to buy this ship/horse/base", or less harshly "I am going to make all squad mates loyal to me", not necessarily because I like all of them equally, but because it is possible within the game, so why not.

The video game romances that truly got to me were of course mostly the ones that had some good writing behind it, or great acting, or an interesting angle. I loved my Astarion romance during my first BG3 playthrough, because it ticked all the categories mentioned above, but also something beyond that. And I never loved any other of the romances from BG3 to the same degree, even though most of them are truly great and I really enjoyed playing through them. I loved my Solas romance in DAI (and in DATV even), because it was so different, it mostly wasn't even there so to say, like it was probably the least of romance content possible to even have a romance, but it touched something in me. And... No, that's that, that were the only ones that I had feelings and emotions about as a me-player, not just as a character I am pretending to be. Up till now.

So, with Henry&Hans romance, to jump from one digression to another digression, because who is reading all this at this point anyway, for quite some time I didn't even know, and later didn't fully believe, that is in the game. I started to play KCD2 around two weeks before it premiered, and all I've heard at this point was that there is potentially some gay romance that some people were rioting about, but I didn't even care much. You see, coming back to my previous notes about not being really immersed into male protagonists, because I am not male, it was always the same, or even more true, with romances - I was actually really immersed only into romances where I can play as a female character and I can romance a male character of my choosing. Because that is how it works in my life as well. Imagine my surprise when I'm playing through this medieval simulator about some guys engaging in some politics and shit, not expecting that this is soon going to be one of the most important games in my life, and then suddenly getting smitten by these two. It was when we got to Trosky, I remember it clearly, and they told me that I have now twelve bell tolls to save Hans. MY HANS! I mean, not mine at that point, really. At that point what I felt was probably sadness, because I was sure, oh I was so sure, that they would never let us romance Hans, are you kidding me? Like two main characters that have a history together, that are actually connected to one another throughout the whole story? With Hans being present in the game as his own, fully fledged character, with his own story arc, being already our best friend? Not being in the game to serve the one purpose of being a romanceable character? And to top it all, with like two guys?! I believe I am quite media-literate, so to say, have consumed my portion of different arts, and I just know it won't happen, it can't happen. It would be a contradiction to everything we have known so far. This kind of ships happen only in our imagination, in our fanfics, in our fanarts. So I didn't even dwell on it much.

And then came the ride to Nebakov, the first in game moment when you see this dialogue option with a heart icon next to it, and what the hell, am I just imagining things? I kid you not, for the next week my mind was living in this prison of "are they fucking Hans-baiting me; I won't forgive them if they are", because I simply couldn't believe that this is actually possible, that this could be our romance option, a meaningful one!

So it was probably all of the above, finally a meaningful romance, not just something slapped on a game with a plot as a separate thing, finally a meaningful character, not a "romanceable character", but a main character with a possible romance, if you get what I'm trying to say. A character that I've already started to love. And with this incomprehensible thing of me becoming Henry when I'm playing, it clicked. It clicked as nothing else ever did in the fiction that I've experienced so far.

And now I'm sitting here, a woman in her late 30s, not queer, thinking about these two fictional guys and their fictional love, like every day, and what it means to me as a person, and I just can't!!! The weirdest feeling ever. But a wholesome one, I think.

Thank you, if for some reason you've decided to read through this, I promise that I am not crazy, or at least I thought so up till this point. Now... not so sure. I needed to vent it all somewhere, somehow, and this is probably like the only place on the internet where I won't feel very bad about spilling it all out.

#kingdom come deliverance 2 #kcd2 #kingdom come deliverance 2 spoilers #kingdom come deliverance #kcd #henry of skalitz #hans capon #henry x hans #hansry

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littlestl4mb · 1 day ago

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omg more thoughts on luigi being a taurus man pls…🙏

omg omg ok. disclaimer: i really am not the most knowledgeable about astrology and charts and all that. however i love some good old fashioned pattern recognition 😻 so here are my thoughts abt taurus men that seem like they pertain to luigi too.

first things first, they are STUBBORN. they get stuck in their own ways and do not want anyone disturbing it. because of that, they are also the most argumentative mfs i’ve ever encountered. AND they always have a damn ego. god help you if you encounter a taurus man before he has an ego death 🙏 if you bring up a differing opinion to them that they might actually agree with, they will pretend they disagree in the moment and then later circle back to it and open themselves up to it. but when it’s in the moment, they have to be right and on their own side. they’ve got too much pride. AND i need to emphasize this: you are lucky if they actually change their mind. don’t expect it. but somehow they also really love arguing?? the person they’re arguing with will hate it, but a taurus man LIVESSSS for the debate. he will keep pestering you even if you try to end the argument, like they just can’t help themselves lmfao. they’re a lil arrogant and cocky that way.

while the stubbornness can be difficult to navigate in some situations, it’s kind of endearing in other facets of their personality (imo). even though there are of course many different factors that play into a taurus man’s relationships, i find them to be very loyal men! i can see this being true for luigi. as i’ve experienced it, when a taurus man is into someone, they are all in. they want one specific person and they want them bad!!! like they become full time yearners if they can’t have the person they want. they want the one perfect match for them. nothing else. so they don’t really even bother pursuing anyone else. their heart has to be fully in it 100%, they don’t want to go half way. also, they want everything to be right or they don’t want it at all. some people might think they’re too big of romantic idealists because they are willing to wait for what they think is perfect and well… most people don’t believe in perfect partners. however, a taurus man will tell you that those people are wrong. and a taurus man knows the critics are wrong because they know so clearly when they’ve met the perfect one. and they make it clear to you too. i’m just speculating here ofc, but i wouldn’t be surprised if luigi was this way.

they try to not be super emotional, but somehow in doing that they go full circle into being the most emotional & dramatic man you know. this is because they are so vocal about how they feel, and bc of that aforementioned stubbornness. it makes for some really deep connection though in conversation and relationships. i think it’s nice personally because they don’t shy away from showing you exactly who they are. they are truthful!!! it’s a beautiful trait. and kinda rare in this day and age. and i find that to be very obvious in luigi’s character.

what else… oh yeah, a taurus man LOVES adventure. he can find it in traversing across the globe, he can find it in a walk down the street to the corner store, and he can even find it in as something simple as reading a book on an unknown topic to him (does this ring a bell for a certain someone we know??) they are whimsical as fuck!!! they can find adventure and beauty in everything. and through that, they know how to enlighten those around them too :-) they want to share adventures with others, and they want to share knowledge and learning too bc of that :-) they are just so intellectual!!! and they value it in others— they like people with a similar curiosity for the world as them.

oh! and they are typically very hard workers. they just love to use that brain of theirs in one way or another. having autonomy over their actions n life is very important to them (it’s like, their way or the highway lolll).

so yeahhhh luigi deff gives me total typical taurus man vibes <3

#asks #luigi mangione thoughts #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione x reader

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fanartka · 3 days ago

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Heartstopper and Jayvik crossover

I really love Alice Oseman's Heartstopper series and I think Charlie and Nick are very similar to Viktor and Jayce. Especially in matters of caring for your partner and “Did you eat well today Charlie/Vik?” So here's a crossover where Viktor and Jayce met in high school.

I'm still not entirely sure what kind of activities they were involved in, whether it was sports like in Heartstopper or maybe they are now in the back room of the laboratory. Hmm, why not, let's imagine that Viktor is not yet lame and a wonderful runner, like Charlie. Perhaps because in Zaun running fast is an excellent skill for survival. They play some Piltie game like rugby, and once a boy from a group of bullies intentionally bumps into Vik and breaks his leg so that now he not only can’t play rugby, but has to walk with a cane. I can imagine Jayce's feelings, but beyond all the despair, guilt and rage, he would be an incredibly caring and supportive partner (sorry for this little angst moment).

But for now they are happily kissing in the back room, not at all expecting that Miss Young will suddenly catch them. I really like to imagine them as teenagers in love. I absolutely adore the couple Charlie and Nick, they are such a cuties, and I am very grateful to the author Alice Oseman for showing what a healthy relationship should be.

And many thanks to my Sunshine @slasher-art , who introduced me to both fandoms, watching them with you was a great happiness❤️🩷.

Unfortunately, I haven’t had time to buy volumes 4 and 5 yet, they were quickly sold out in Ukraine, so I’m waiting for an additional edition, but those pages of the comic that are in the author’s account intrigued me incredibly.

Jayvik has some kind of magic of its own - they fit perfectly into any universe, any fandom, with them it would probably be possible to make a crossover with even Robinson Crusoe, even with the game Plants vs. Zombies.

And now, re-reading Heartstopper, which I fell in love with because of Charlie and Nick, I can easily imagine Viktor and Jayce in their place. Just imagine how Vik gets bullied at school because he's gay from Zaun who doesn't even have a last name (until Jayce suggests his own, of course😏), how Jayce chivalrously defends him, how they start liking each other more and more, and how Jayce desperately tries to find a book about bisexuality because Google hasn't been invented in their world yet.

By the way, when I started translating phrases from Ukrainian back into English, I realized that they could be translated differently from the original, and I started looking for the right page from the author and guess what? Some pictures in my book and the one posted by the author do not match! I wonder if it was because the book was still available for pre-order at that time and Alice Oseman later changed some pages for printing?

So if anyone here has the third volume in English, I would be very grateful if you open page 590 and write whether your pictures are the same as in my book or the same as in the author’s account (whiter version up here⬆️). By the way, I really like the softer color of the pages, so I made the background a little different. And I'm going to redraw some more moments I like there.

Fans of Charlie and Nick, Viktor and Jayce and anyone else are welcome to comment, I really love discussions, even if we have opposite opinions, the main thing is to conduct the discussion civilly.

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 days ago

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a ride he does survive

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘ride’

rated e | 453 words | cw: public sex (they’re not caught, seen, or heard) | tags: Eddie has a crush on Steve, modern era, scoops ahoy, getting together, anal sex

🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦

“He’s a ride I wouldn’t survive.”

Jeff smacks his shoulder, groaning. “Dude, don’t say shit like that out loud.”

“Oh, so you’re homophobic now?” Eddie smirks, knows Jeff is the farthest thing from homophobic. He just isn’t a fan of Steve, or Eddie’s crush on Steve.

“Shut up,” he laughs. “Why don’t you go talk to him for once? Or am I gonna have to listen to you every day until one of you inevitably leaves this shithole town?”

“There’s no way he’d be interested in me. I’m a triple senior, dude.”

“Hey guys, we’re closing up. Do you need anything else?” The man in question smiles down at them, towel thrown over his shoulder and broom in hand.

“Sorry, nope!” Eddie squeaks out.

Jeff rolls his eyes as he stands. “Actually, Eddie here is looking for a summer job.”

Steve grins. “I need someone to close with! Robin’s mom is, like, so strict. She won’t even let her stay out past curfew for work.”

Eddie feels like he’s out of his body. “Oh. Yeah. Sure.”

Steve hands him the towel. It smells like bleach and chocolate.

“If you can help me close, I’ll put in the good word with the boss.”

Jeff laughs his way out of Scoops Ahoy while Eddie wipes tables, muttering to himself about doing stupid things for stupid boys. He’s nearly done when Steve turns off the lights.

“Sorry, we have a security light usually, but it’s not working.”

Eddie nods. Right. They’ll just finish in the dark.

“If you log the time you helped today, it can get added to your paycheck,” Steve explains.

He guides him to the back where there’s a book of names, mostly Robin, and clock in times. Eddie adds his.

“You like ice cream a lot?” Steve asks.

“Uh, I’m lactose intolerant?” Eddie replies.

Steve nods. “So you come to the ice cream shop because…”

“Because you look really good in that outfit.”

It’s out before he can stop it. Steve’s lips are on his before Eddie can understand what’s happening. Their hands are everywhere, covering skin that shouldn’t be exposed back here. They’re both hard, both leaking.

“Can I fuck you?” Steve asks.

“Here?”

“Please.”

He sounds so good begging like this, Eddie can’t say no.

There’s no lube to be found, but they make it work with Vaseline from the employee locker. Eddie’s stretched open quickly, just a hint of pain with the pleasure, the way he likes it.

Steve sits in the rolling chair and this is a bad idea. Eddie loves bad ideas.

He straddles Steve, rides him until the chair is wobbling and squeaking, ready to break.

“Tomorrow, you can fuck me,” Steve offers as he comes.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddiemicrofic #steddie events #steddiemicroficmarch #stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson

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butterflydm · 2 days ago

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Scattered WoT rewatch thoughts (1x01-1x04)

This includes spoilers for s3, because my rewatch is adding some context to my thoughts for season three and the spoilers we know so far and book spoilers through Lord of Chaos:

1x01

I do think it's likely that Egwene's Accepted Test is going to mirror the scene with Liandrin gentling the man from the cold open, but Rand being in a river ties it more to Egwene and the Two Rivers. Egwene has been very associated with water so far, from needing to trust the river in s1 to undergo the rite to officially become a woman, to a jug of water being the symbol of the battle of wills that she has with Renna in 2x06.

We have been watching Egwene's and Rand's paths diverge from each other from their very first scene together - the first time we see them kiss (and have implied fade-to-black sex) basically is a play from Rand to buy himself a little more time with Egwene before she breaks things off with him. Afterwards, she tells him that their futures aren't going to be aligned with each other. We even see her reject his symbolic romantic gesture of giving her a berry, which he used to give her when they were younger.

Rand will later say that Selene is the first woman to see him as a man and it does feel like his relationship with Egwene is very tied up to his boyhood.

So, s1 has an ep1 post-coital scene where Egwene's abilities separate her from the possibility of a future with Rand, so we may see this mirrored (if you'll pardon my choice of words) in 3x01.

First Finn foreshadowing for Mat: the tiny noose-like bits of thread on Fain's wagon.

The Rand & Egwene on a cliffside rock scene is another one that we know gets echoed in s3, with Lanfear taking Egwene's place and changing the narrative.

I really like that Nynaeve's feelings about the Two Rivers are grounded in her personal relationships (Rand has also been hearing a lot of things about the AS to make him wary, going by what Tam says about them).

Mat provides gambling, alcohol, and fostering emotional sharing in the relationship between the three boys. And we see them showing care and concern back to him.

I really do love how the show took the concept of Bel Tine and tied it into the world mythology of the Wheel and reincarnation. Very good philosophical setup for the future. Wheel keeps turning and we keep trying to do better than the last time.

We also see Nynaeve's loneliness in the Bel Tine scene, which is what Rand talked about when he was talking about what Egwene choosing to be a Wisdom would mean - no family of her own.

Overall, the show does such good job of showing how this mountain village has held onto the old ways without even realizing the depth of what those ways mean.

The battle is so well done. The fear and panic of the villagers at first, and how Moiraine helps them. I am also going to stand up and say that i think that having (and killing) Laila was a good choice! It shows us the cost of the Trolloc attack, it sets up Perrin's fear over his own battlerage, it sets up Perrin's overprotectiveness over his love interest without making wild overprotectiveness just a Two Rivers trait. And it really made all the show-only reactors that I watched sympathize with Perrin instantly. It was a solid change.

Rand undergoes the first of many "my parents weren't what I thought" when he sees how well Tam fights with a sword.

I love that we see our EF5's courage so strongly but in different ways.

Our first glimpse of weaves and of Aes Sedai working together with their Warders! And we see how effective they can be together. We're going to see the limitations of Warders in s3, I think, because they don't help much in a Power vs Power battle, but for most trouble that an Aes Sedai has been able to get into before now, they were very useful!

Also: Egwene is wearing a bracer on her left wrist here that is very much like the one she wears in s3 (and that does kinda echo the sul'dam bracer).

Rand mentions earlier that stories say a single Aes Sedai is said to be able to turn the tide of a battle and we get to see that here when Moiraine pulls down the Winespring Inn to hurl the stones at the Trollocs.

Poor in-denial Rand here, who does not want to believe what his dad confessed to him on their journey to the village.

Rand, Egwene, Moiraine, and Laila all in blue here, in the aftermath of the attack. Both Rand & Egwene cover up their blue shirts with brown sheepskin coats for their journey out of the Two Rivers. Mirrors!! Foils! Following parallel but separate paths, which is part of why they can't be together.

Rand knows that this about him but he can't admit it to himself. I love it when stories continue to add depth on a rewatch.

1x02

We saw the danger of the Shadow in the last episode, now we set up the danger of the Whitecloaks. Another scene that gains depth on rewatch, as show-onlys will later realize that the Whitecloaks are murdering a healer here, once they find out more about the Aes Sedai. They are zealots.

"Sometimes brutality is the only path to mercy." Yikes!

This episode also brings in the evil of Shadar Logoth, a more ancient example of purely human evil that is not driven by the Shadow or Darkfriends. The city that ate itself alive out of paranoia and self-isolation from the world. A cautionary tale for what the Two Rivers could have become.

We get first lessons in Aes Sedai Oaths here, both their limitations and the ways to find loopholes around them. We also see that Rand confronts Moiraine publicly while Egwene also confronts her, but privately (because Moiraine is also clearly more comfortable having private confabs with Egwene over any of the boys - she's no Red but still has a wariness about men could channel).

Is this Egwene and Mat's only conversation? (And they are quickly joined by all the others)

We see Mat trying to lighten the mood, while Rand begins to show hints of leadership, wanting them to form a plan in case Moiraine turns on one of them.

I like the change that the show made in the Three Oaths, giving them a solid origin based in history - and tying it to Hawkwing also ties it to the Seanchan. The White Tower chose to leash itself to specific rules, while the women in Seanchan were forcibly leashed by their government.

Moiraine must feel so hopeful when she realizes that Egwene can channel and so the world might get a Dragon who can't go mad from saidin.

Genuinely, it is so baffling to me how some people watching the show were calling Rand clingy and trying to hold onto a dead relationship when it's literally Egwene sending the mixed signals and trying to cuddle up to Rand here, the episode after she broke things off with him.

Rand and Moiraine's first fight! We're going to get more of this in s3 as well, I believe. Moiraine trying to direct and control them, while Rand wants to actually know the endgame and what her plans are.

Poor Mat & Perrin forced to witness the fight afterwards between Rand & Egwene.

Mat is so good at defusing emotional conflict. He is the one who gets Rand to level out after the disagreements with Moiraine & Egwene.

We are shown the division in the Whitecloaks here - the Questioners being the true zealots, with the regular Children being willing to bend on matters of Aes Sedai.

Rand is gonna glare a hole in Moiraine's back.

The ruined bridge! Love all the old ruins in the Two Rivers area.

Mat again shows his emotional intelligence by starting the sing-along to boost spirits among the group. And we get a little history lesson. Fingers crossed for Mat singing again in s3!

Also: this scene made me cry during this rewatch.

We're briefly told here that they've been traveling for days, before the night when they go into Shadar Logoth.

Rand and Egwene work through a bit and come to better terms over the course of this episode but their main conflict of being on fundamentally different paths is not resolved. I'm guessing this will get echoed in s3 but they will actually fully accept and come to terms with their separate paths.

Perrin's first wolf encounter! ❤️

Once again, we see Mat reaching out to one of his friends to help them process - Perrin in this case, offering him a dagger that Laila had made for Mat and returning it to Perrin. I hope we get to see some of that in s3 with his friends in ep1. Mat is so sweet to his friends.

S1 - Rand goes to a dead city with Moiraine & Egwene; s3 - Rand goes to a dead city with Moiraine & Aviendha (based on the trailers).

Mat getting drawn to the dagger. Man, that is gonna fuck him up. My poor sad wet cat.

Our first plot-mandated split up - I do understand why we don't get a second Cauthor road trip since they did get all this time and focus together in s1, but I am definitely hoping that the change means we'll get them together again later on the series, hopefully spending time with each other in s4 (if we get it, etc). And I hope for a couple of good scenes before they part ways in s3.

1x03

We learn more about Nynaeve's grit and cleverness in the opener, as well as revealing that Trollocs will cannibalize their injured companions.

Nynaeve is such a badass here. 💖

I love this credits sequence so much. I understand wanting to spend every moment of the episode runtime but it's just so lovely.

Lan being impressed by Nynaeve tracking them. 💖

The Great Cauthor Roadtrip has begun!

"They say all roads lead there." "That's not how roads work." I love them so much.

Perrin & Egwene's roadtrip also begins. I do quite enjoy their scenes together even if I'm not getting the shippy buzz from them. But Perrin & Egwene both trying to light the same fire and not being certain who did it in the end... I hope we get a continued connection between them in the future (iykyk).

This episode is where we can clearly see Nynaeve's healer yellow under her warrior green. Perfect, no notes. All the scenes between Lan & Nynaeve in this episode are pure gold.

We can also see more clearly how Lan has a fancy pattern on the shoulders of his outfit.

Ishamael trying to suss out which of the ta'veren is the Dragon via dreams. Perrin dreams of Ishy here but Egwene doesn't seem to. The wolves herding them to safety in the scariest way possible lol I love them. They are probably trying to talk to Perrin but he can't see their visions yet.

Our first glimpse of an Aiel (dead in a cage). It really sets the tone for the town as a whole.

Hello, Thom! And Dana has her eye on the boys from the beginning. I do love Thom's song here and, of course, what it implies about Thom's sympathies towards men who can channel. I'm hoping for at least one good convo about Rand between Mat & Thom in s3.

Mat's keen emotional intelligence in display in previous episodes gets turned like a knife against Rand in this one and it hurts a lot.

"Someplace new, you can be anything you want. And no one's gonna know the dirt you were born in." We'll see Mat indulging in this idea a bit at the start of s3, I think.

Our first hints of Perrin's overprotectiveness post-Laila's death, and Egwene pushing back and offering compassion that Perrin doesn't feel like he deserves, and refusing to let him risk himself for her sake - they go together.

I think we got Aram confirmed for s3, so looking forward to his reunion with Perrin and how they might interact.

Egwene getting covered with the shawl of many colors.

Dana is such a good compilation of "every darkfriend on the road" that Mat & Rand encounter on the road.

Lol at Rand being so snippy over Mat when we know he actually thinks extremely highly of Mat. He's just mad at him right now because Mat is being an asshole for what seems to be no reason.

Our first hint that Siuan and Moiraine got a relationship upgrade comes when Moiraine whispers a pained "Siuan" when she's really out of it. Also they did a great job of making Moiraine look on the edge of death.

We get to see more of Thom's compassion when Mat encounters him at the dead Aiel's cage. Love our little lesson about Aiel here - and our first open hint about Rand's heritage, as Thom tells us red hair is rare outside the Aiel Waste.

"If you're going to take from the dead, the least you can do is bury them."

First mention of the Stone of Tear and the Lion Throne of Caemlyn.

Dana going for the kiss - start of a pattern there, the Shadow trying (and succeeding in s2) to deceive their way into Rand's bed. And she genuinely likes Rand too, but is still willing to betray him.

Our first hint of Rand using the Power, when he breaks the reinforced door.

I really like that they used Dana to give us Ishamael's philosophy. Break the Wheel to stop the pain of the world. I like that Mat encounters this again with Ishy at the end of s2 and we see him reject it.

Okay, Thom never openly tells either of the boys that he thinks they're the Dragon but he overhears their conversation with Dana and also assumes right away that it's the madness troubling Mat in the next episode.

Hi, Logain! I like how both Nynaeve and Logain are used to create doubt in Moiraine's mind over the accuracy of the prophecies.

1x04

Logain does a good job showing us all the scary foreshadowing for what the Dragon will be capable of. What Logain does to one country, Rand is supposed to do to the world, essentially. We see both the power and the madness here.

"What does a crown mean to the Dragon Reborn?"

Logain knows and believes in the prophecies and believes that he is truly the Dragon, with the voices in his head urging him on.

We do see Logain fighting and winning against the corruption here, healing the king instead of killing him.

I love what they've done with Logain so far in the story. I don't think we've seen any spoilers about him in s3 yet but I would not be surprised to see him.

We get to learn a lot about Aes Sedai in this episode, with Nynaeve as our main vehicle for learning the lore, which is great because of her prickly relationship with Moiraine.

The war party to capture Logain is comprised of Green & Red sisters and this is an authorized operation that we can directly compare to the unauthorized operation that Liandrin and her fellow Reds carried out in ep1. Logain is captured and shielded, not gentled on the spot. Then he is meant to be taken back to the White Tower for trial - I'm guessing this is actually meant to determine if he's the real Dragon Reborn. False Dragons get gentled and the true Dragon stays shielded until the Last Battle, to keep him from using the Power and going mad from the corruption.

Liandrin is so snippy and petty with Moiraine. I kinda do feel like she tried a flirtation with Moiraine in the past and got shot down.

I really love how the show gave the Warders their own subculture and community. We did not get enough of that in the books at all. A+ improvement.

We find out here how secretive Moiraine & Lan are around other Aes Sedai & Warders. We also learn that Liandrin is pushing against the Amyrlin's decrees and that there are rumors spreading about the unsanctioned gentlings.

Aram is lovely and charming. The show also did a really good job making the Tuatha'an endearing.

Rand and Mat bonding over their mutual paranoia towards the rest of the world: oh dear.

"I always knew women couldn't see men's weaves..." setting out right here that there is a distinction between the two Powers.

I like Alanna & Moiraine's friendship. And Alanna does a good job setting out the Green Ajah mission statement - the Battle Ajah, to prepare for the Last Battle.

Alanna worrying that the current Tower policy about the Dragon is too aggressive and might lead to the Tower gentling the Dragon Reborn and dooming the world.

Liandrin starts her work on trying to get to Nynaeve. Not sure if she already knows anything about the Two Rivers ta'veren or if she's just looking to subverting someone traveling with Moiraine.

Rand taking charge of the situation to de-escalate, while Mat continues to slip.

Lol at Liandrin being the one to tell us the Blues are ~just spies~ and then to give us the official line on the Red Ajah philosophy - the magic cops, basically.

Liandrin also makes it clear here that men are not welcome under the Red Ajah's tent.

Tying the Way of the Leaf into the reincarnation cycle of the Wheel makes so much sense and rally solidifies it and grounds it into the world.

Rand starts to worry that something is really wrong with Mat here. The little girl offering Mat the Birgitte doll is so sweet.

Rand trying to rationalize what's happening with Mat, and Thom tries to gently led him to the idea that Mat can channel. Very good conversation, because Rand is torn between not wanting to believe it of himself but part of him knowing that it's him, and his worries over Mat. Rand hears about the consequences of being gentled here, and then sees both gentling and mental illness up close in s2.

"Nothing is more dangerous than a man who knows the past." Appropriate for both Rand & Mat!

Having Nynaeve hang out with the Warders so that we can learn more about them is so good.

And our first poly relationship hints!

I like that we get to see Moiriane doubting herself and her path, questioning the prophecies. And Lan reassuring her that they're on the correct path, reminding her of the dreams and the Trollocs, that Logain doesn't fit what they know about how old the Dragon should be.

This story that Ila tells is going to echo in s3 as well, as we see the Aiel come up against this choice and the split between them happens as some of them pick up a spear while the others do not, choose to stay true to their original culture instead.

"Have you lost him?" "No. No, I would know if I had." Egwene still thinking about Rand, as Rand was thinking about her last episode.

Rand waking up and making that promise to Mat. Awww. "No matter what happens, I'm here."

The show really has set out such a strong foundation for Mat & Rand's friendship, so while them not being together in s3 isn't my favorite adaptation choices (though I do think I will probably love Mat in Tanchico) they do have a very solid foundation of relationship work already put into them.

We got Perrin's Ishy dream, now we get Rand. Perrin is hammering away (at Laila's body?), Mat is wandering around with a bloody red hand, and Egwene is yoinked away by Ishy. And Rand wakes up from that into a waking nightmare of seeing Mat surrounded by a murdered family and then leaving Thom behind to save Mat & himself. Genuinely, not having a good day.

Thom was already ride-or-die (or believe them to have murdered a family under the influence of the corruption but still be willing to help) for the boys here.

I imagine the pitch Liandrin is giving Kerene here is the same slippery slope that the Reds went down originally - these men are too dangerous for us to risk carting them all the way back to the Tower.

Nynaeve and Lan bonding over lost family. Very sweet moment. Cried a bit here too.

I do think this fight is serving as big foreshadowing for Dumai's Wells. The Dragon captured by the Tower, his forces rallying to free him, him breaking out to join the fight. We'll just be on the other side of the battle that time, as Perrin (and hopefully Mat, in this version, fingers crossed, come on, let him actually be Rand's general for more than ten seconds!) fight to free him from the Tower embassy, while Rand fights to escape.

In addition to Kerene's death, we see a Red sister shot up with arrows too, though maybe she lives.

Nynaeve's AoE heal that probably made Moiraine less inclined to believe that Egwene could be the Dragon, because of how strong Nynaeve is.

#wot #wheel of time #wot on prime #wot s3 spoilers #wheel of time s3 spoilers #butterfly watches wot #the wheel of time #wot book spoilers #lord of chaos #now i will take a break but plan to watch more later!#wot rewatch

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imsiriuslyreading · 13 hours ago

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i just finished reading The Raven Cycle and I am just... beyond.

this series is for the kids who grew up knowing they had something...more. something undefinable, intangible. something a bit like magic. now, at my big age, these books transported me all the way back to that feeling and then some.

I cannot for the life of me remember anything that made me feel as deeply nostalgic for a life and friends that didn't belong to me as this has. the accessible magic, the hot summers, the creatures and animals. the cars and the first loves. the houses and the terrible song Ronan sings.

i will be going back to cabeswater and henrietta and visiting blue and her boys very soon, and very often, I know that much.

also i wrote something because i couldn't help myself. short, sweet, and full of spoilers.

To Be Known So Well

It was Adam’s turn now, he realised. So, he breathed in Ronan’s bravery, and he borrowed some of it.

read here if you like

#the raven cycle #lanas crying again #trc #the raven king #the raven boys #blue sargent #ronan lynch #adam parrish #richard gansey #noah czerny #the dream thieves #maggie stiefvater #is wild for this #pynch #pynch fic #ronan lynch fic #adam parrish fic

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writing-for-marvel · 2 days ago

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I’m back on the hurt train ready to get absolutely railed again

I’m pretty sure I said this in my first read of the chapter but the fact that your amazing mind chose to start and end this chapter, a fic about time loops, in flashbacks is actually genius

There was something almost like bemusement that appeared in the curl of Natasha’s lip, but she didn’t kick you out, which you took as a sign that your little outburst might have been closer to the truth than you’d really expected. You leaned back ever so slightly.

Oh this just feels so Nat, you’re characterisation feels so spot on, even down to the detail of her just needing to stare reader down and reader just keeps rambling like shes justifying herself

Then, without warning, she threw her glass at you.

You obviously can’t see me but I literally flinched out of the way reading this like it was me she had done this to 😂 but I love this scene with Nat so much, it’s such a *her* thing to do, the details are just perfect

“Yeah, I’m not gonna be able to do that,” you said flatly.

Literally took the words out of my mouth

So it appears you’ve gotten yourself stuck in some macabre version of Groundhog Day. Alright. Cool cool cool. You can work with that, probably. Maybe.

I love the inner monologue you have written, it’s honestly so refreshing and actually hilarious

It’s moments like these that make you miss Nat the most.

Stop it we can’t have more death and grief than we do already please

There was something about that woman that made everyone around her open up, whether they wanted to or not.

Literally flash back to what I said before about reader just rambling under her stare without her saying a single word

“Buck?” He huffs, even though he continues to wear his usual exasperated expression. “Did Sam hit you in the head?”

You raise your eyebrows in fake surprise. It’s so easy to fall back into your usual bickering, even with everything that’s going on. “You’re right, I don’t. Your cat probably got into my room again and let out her past week’s aggressions.”

“See, that’s exactly what she wants you to think.”

Eeeee they make me giddy 🥰🥰🥰

“Nope. This is my spot, too.”

“Great,” you sigh, angling yourself away from him. “I’ll be sure to make a reservation next time.”

I’m literally just giggling and kicking my feet every time they interact

“Try the floor,” Bucky says as you’re almost out of the room. He doesn’t turn when you do, but he seems to feel your questioning gaze. “If you can’t sleep. It helps, sometimes.”

Oh my baby 😭 just the thought of him sleeping on the floor for comfort actually hurts my soul

With a sigh, you get settled on the floor, staring up at the ceiling until your eyes get too tired.

Oh she takes his advice 🥺🥺🥺

When you see your own body still lying in bed next to where you’re standing, you almost trip over your own feet.

See I knew this was coming this time and yet it still felt like a shock to the system!!!

It’s one of your favorite comfort novels. You take good care of your books for the most part, but this one is quite battered; you’ve been bringing it with you on missions for years. A bit of home that fits into your pocket and helps calming you down on countless quinjet rides better than pictures ever could.

If someone comes into my room and insults one of my favourite books you can best believe I am finally learning to throw a punch and clock them in the jaw

“It happened because you activated the time stone,” Strange sneers. “Your powers are a lot stronger than you even care to realize, and it was idiotic to keep them a secret.”

She cares so much about Bucky that she’s activated the time stone??? Nika your mind wtf 🤯🤯🤯

He must have hit his head on the side of the big table, but the shield had protected him from the sharp edge. He’s pressing a hand to his wound and he’s conscious and fine. He’s fine.

I’m just sat here waiting with bated breath for this whole sequence

You fling your knife as fast as you can, but his single moment of hesitation was long enough for the trigger to be pulled a second time. You turn just in time to see the realization on Bucky’s face, the shock and panic in his eyes as they meet yours.

You’re telling me he dies in every rendition of this god damn day Nika it’s too painfulllllllll

Bucky figuring out that somethings wrong 😭😭 they barely spend any time together and yet he’s already worked her out 😭😭 don’t mind me imma just sob over here

Things were finally starting to look up.

Right just the kick to the gut I needed at the end of this torture (affectionate; I love it)

Nika I love it, I am after two chapters already pulling my hair out every time we have to see Bucky die, but the story itself is exceptional!!

Your writing style is absolutely gorgeous, I always feel so present in the moment with all of their conversations, all the characters feel so *real*, I adore them all

And I honestly can’t say enough about the magic system in place and readers powers, like I’m bewildered by how your gorgeous mind came to that. I can’t wait to dive more into it and learn the backstory behind it all

time after time [2]

series summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 8.2k

chapter warnings: canon-typical violence, the angst continues, another reminder to read the fic premise; a couple of guest appearances; flashbacks are my establishing shots and i’m going to make it everyone’s problem

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: 2am updates are kind of my brand at this point. big shout-out to @barnesafterglow who read a good chunk of this yesterday and is still talking to me <3 thank you all for your patience and your love for chapter one!!

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

two: twice upon a time

The first time you met Natasha Romanoff in person, a few weeks after the Snap, she only had to look at you for a couple of seconds to be able to read you like a book.

They’d compiled a file, of course, filled with all the general academic credits and official family information that was still available to the public and definitely more than a few things you’d tried to bury, too. Even then, the folder was reassuringly slim.

She’d have to take you at your word about what you’d come to offer her, anyway.

“And why would we want to have you?” she asked. As if she were interviewing you for a job. Which, technically speaking, she was.

You were on edge and Natasha knew it, even though you tried to hide your ever twitching fingers in your lap under the table, picking at the skin around your nails until you felt it break. You took a deep breath.

“Look, I know that I’m not exactly a soldier, or a—a superhero type, but I … I don’t know, I would just like to use my … thing to do good, for once. You know, stuff that will help people.”

And do it on your own terms. It stayed unsaid, then. You didn’t admit that part until much later.

Natasha’s face stayed perfectly neutral through your rambling, and you weren’t sure whether that was calming you down or making you more anxious. You reached for your necklace, tugging at the chain.

“But I can’t really do that on my own,” you continued, “and you, well, all of you, you’ve done it for a while and you’re good at it. And I think I could help with that.”

She still didn’t say anything, just kept waiting while you sat awkwardly in that uncomfortable office chair, regretting your decision of ever following through with your crazy impulsive idea of coming here.

But where else would you have gone?

“Also,” you remarked in a sudden burst of boldness, “I think you could use every extra pair of hands you can get at the moment.”

You couldn’t be sure, then, if she’d pieced together what little information they’d had on you in your file or if she’d just figured you out while you were sitting in this office, but it didn’t make all that much of a difference. She didn’t have to ask why you’d decided to offer up your abilities to the Avengers now, after everything, when they’d been hidden away for most of your life.

“You’re lonely. And you need a purpose, like all of us,” she said, looking you up and down apprehensively.

Then, without warning, she threw her glass at you.

You flinched to the side and it shattered on the wall behind you. The leftover drink slowly sank into the carpet as you turned to stare at her in shock.

Natasha lifted one of her perfectly trimmed eyebrows. “You wanna try that again?”

Really, you should’ve expected the test.

You closed your eyes and raised your hands.

It’s a strange experience, going back in time. No one had really asked you to describe what it was like, and you probably couldn’t have if you tried. It felt a little like retracing your own steps in your head, relocating your conscience to an earlier moment, second by second, in a rapid backwards motion. Like very vivid remembering. Only, it’s not just that.

“You’re lonely,” Natasha said, swirling the dregs of her glass, her green eyes tracing over you. “And you need a purpose, like all of us.”

You were expecting it this time, but the glass still slipped through your fingers and broke into tiny shards on the floor. Not good enough. You didn’t wait for her reaction this time, cursing under your breath and pulling yourself back again. As always, it took considerably more effort.

You tried your best not to stare at the glass while Natasha spoke, but you didn’t really listen anymore. This time, you caught it, even though its contents spilled over your hand.

Natasha smirked. “Not bad. First try?”

“This is when I lie to sound capable, right?” You shook the liquid off your fingers, sure she’d already noticed the sweat on your temples. No use in lying to a spy, anyway, you supposed, so you admitted, “Third.”

“We’ll work on that. But honesty’s a good start.” She held out her hand and you returned the glass. “Have you ever done combat training?”

You could barely stifle a nervous laugh. “Do I look like I’ve ever done combat training?”

“I don’t tend to judge people based on how they appear,” Natasha said, uncrossing her legs. “Come with me.”

You followed her back out of the office into the wide, empty hallway. You hadn’t seen anyone else around on the whole Compound, even though it could probably house hundreds of people on the ground floor alone. The clacking sound of your steps on the tiled floor seemed to echo all around you.

It felt like you were announcing yourself to everyone within a two-mile radius while Natasha moved around on her bare feet without a single sound.

A glass elevator took you down to the subterranean level of the building. Once the doors slid open, Natasha marched straight to a double door with square windows and large metal handlebars.

“Leave your shoes and bag by the door,” she told you. She waited for you to untie your laces and awkwardly wiggle out of your boots before she let you both in.

The Compound gym was even bigger than you’d expected. You weren’t sure if you were more surprised by that revelation or by the presence of a certain super soldier kicking the life out of a punching bag on the other side of the hall.

“Hey Rogers,” Natasha shouted as it got smacked to the ground. “Brought a new recruit!”

“Really?” he called back, unwrapping the bandages around his knuckles.

“Really?” you said. Sure, that was what you came here for, but even so, you were a little shocked it had been that simple.

“Like you said, we’re a little desperate at the moment,” she winked.

“I didn’t say that,” you muttered anxiously as Captain America jogged over to join you, a towel thrown over his shoulder. Despite his workout, he hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“Steve Rogers,” he said, holding out his hand with a smile.

You shook it, slightly bewildered, and introduced yourself. He repeated your name back at you and you had to take a moment to think how strange this whole situation was, even in all the madness that’d been going on. How unreal.

“I’m sure it’ll be good to have ya,” he said, and you almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. Thankfully, you caught yourself in time.

Meanwhile, Natasha had dragged one of the thick foam mats away from the heavy equipment and rolled it out. Cracking her neck, she stepped onto it and pushed her hair out of her face.

“Okay. Show me how you’d throw a punch.”

She held out her hands flat in front of her and nodded her head for you to join her on the mat. You’d never felt so stupid in your life as you tried to rack your brains for whatever little you took from those self-defense lessons however long ago. At least Captain Goddamn America seemed to be politely ignoring you in favor of putting some weights away.

“Just move on instinct, you’re not getting graded,” Natasha said calmly.

Your instincts were telling you you were absolutely getting graded and this was your worst idea to date, but you tried your best. She had you aim at different heights a few times before she stopped you.

“Okay, your posture’s terrible. You have to straighten your back and bend your knees more, see?” She demonstrated the right stance, waiting for you to copy her. “There you go. That’s your standard pose.”

“Alright,” you said, testing it out with a little bounce. “And what do I do with that?”

“Depends on what you’re trying to do. With the right training, you can use your own weight to your advantage in a fight. Steve?”

“Oh, great, am I volunteering?” He joined you on the mat and you moved to give the two of them enough space.

“You love it. Now watch me,” she added, looking at you.

Before Steve could even properly raise up his arms, Natasha launched into a handflip and somehow managed to wrap her legs around his body. The sudden movement made him stumble backwards. He lurched his body forwards to get her off his shoulders, but she used the momentum of her fall to kick him off his feet onto the mat. She gracefully landed on all fours like a cat. It looked effortless.

“You’re right,” Steve groaned, “this is very fun for me.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna be able to do that,” you said flatly.

“I don’t expect you to,” Natasha said, pulling her hair behind her ears again. “But you do have to be able to survive in a fight, even without your powers, if you want to join the team. We can’t babysit you.”

You pressed your lips together, slowly curling your hands into fists and opening them again.

“Alright,” you said, your voice strangely dry. “When do we start?”

*****

Your initial reaction is relief.

Relief, because it’s Friday again, which means nothing has actually happened, which means Bucky is still alive.

Then, the implications of that fact hit you all at once.

You must’ve blacked out for a second or two, because when you open your eyes again, you’re lying on the floor next to your bed, heart still pounding a mile an hour. Your breath comes out in short gasps, and you force it to slow just in time for the knock on the door.

“Rise and shine, McFly! Time to get your ass kicked!”

“Just gimme a minute!” you shout back and stumble to the bathroom.

Your hands and face are speckled with blood and you wash it off furiously, biting your lip as the tiny cuts on your skin left by the glass shards burn under your touch. Turning off the faucet, you keep leaning onto the basin and stare at your hands.

You’re not sure what you expected. Your rings are still the blackest you’ve ever seen them, and the dimly glowing symbols keep slowly circling around your wrist. It doesn’t take you long to put two and two together, because once is a coincidence, a strange, fateful accident, but twice is a pattern. And of course you’ve heard about this kind of thing happening. Only not like this.

Life everlasting.

No. Definitely not like this.

So it appears you’ve gotten yourself stuck in some macabre version of Groundhog Day. Alright. Cool cool cool. You can work with that, probably. Maybe.

“Did you get lost in there?” Sam remarks with a grin when you finally step out of your room, still looking slightly disheveled.

“I—” You stop yourself, blinking at him until he starts looking slightly concerned.

“You alright? You look …” His eyebrows raise even higher. “Shell-shocked.”

Well, this isn’t exactly an everyday occurence even for me, Samuel, you want to tell him. Instead, you say, “Don’t ever wake me up like that again.” It lacks yesterday’s punch.

“Sweet white teenage angst not your style?”

You hum, but don’t reply otherwise, still lost in thought as you climb the stairs, trying to assess your situation and come up with some sort of plan.

It’s fairly obvious you fucked up your reset the other day. So much for the precious space-time continuum; oh, you hate it when the wizard people are right every now and then.

You glance sideways at Sam while he stretches his back in the ring. He seems fine, completely normal, unaware of what’s going on with you, and of course he would be. Nothing unusual about that part of your powers. Or what’s left of them.

You raise your hands experimentally.

“I’m not high-fiving you until you get one kick in, at least.”

Not even the slightest hitch. It’s like your powers have just up and left you completely. A strange heaviness settles in your stomach. Fucking useless.

You avert your burning eyes from Sam’s gaze.

It’s not like you … talk.

None of you do, not really. Sure, you chat. You’re great at chatting. You’ve had years, countless tries of perfecting smalltalk, of knowing the things you can get away with saying to certain people. It’s made you reckless in the past, knowing you could probably replay entire conversations in the blink of an eye, the pressure of expectation gone completely.

Ever since you started coming out of hiding again, though, the fun has drizzled out of that more and more. It’s one thing to impress strangers and another to be several steps ahead of the people you’ve started to consider your friends.

Because even though sometimes it sure would be easier, having people un-live conversations they’ve had with you, particularly hard or emotional ones, is sort of a shitty move if you continue to spend your time around them afterwards. And you’ve grown determined to not intentionally hurt people with your powers. Not anymore.

So yes, you chat. You know Sam’s favorite color and the video games his nephews want for their birthdays. You know what kind of music Bucky listens to, mostly because he forgets to turn on the soundproofing in his room and Jazz trumpets are surprisingly loud. You know their habits, the foods they like, the movies they hate.

But you don’t … share. Nothing that goes deeper than the general stuff.

It’s moments like these that make you miss Nat the most.

There was something about that woman that made everyone around her open up, whether they wanted to or not. You’re almost resolved to call her as soon as you get back to your room before you remember.

You’re gonna have to do this on your own. Back to square one.

“What is up with you today?”

“I’m fine,” you grunt, but make no effort to get back up again. “Didn’t sleep well. Ow.” You narrow your eyes at Sam. “Did you just kick me?”

“I wanted to see if you’re still alive.”

“Horrible. I’m quitting. You can go spar with Bucky again.”

“At least he puts up a fight.” Sam crouches down next to you. “Anything you wanna tell me?”

Yes. You shake your head. He probably wouldn’t believe you, anyway.

“Alright,” he says, clapping you on the shoulder. You scrunch your nose. “I’m gonna hit the showers. But we’re doing a rain check for tomorrow, and you sort out your pea under the mattress situation.”

“Okay.”

You listen to Sam’s receding steps and the sound of the door opening and closing again. Then, there’s nothing but silence and the ticking of the clock on the far wall.

Even though you know you should probably just head out as well, you can’t help but linger again. Just in case.

“You look like shit.”

Your head rolls to the side. Fuck you, Barnes. “Hey, Buck.”

Same spot on the bench next to the ring, same hunched over position, same concentrated look on his face while he cleans up the shimmering golden nooks in his arm.

“Buck?” He huffs, even though he continues to wear his usual exasperated expression. “Did Sam hit you in the head?”

You don’t answer, just keep staring at his profile for a little while longer. Your eyes are drawn to the nape of his neck, to the center of his chest. You bite the inside of your cheek so hard it hurts.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Bucky says lowly. You turn your gaze back to the ceiling.

“Nothing,” you answer, pulling an arm over your eyes. The sweatband rubs against your eyebrow.

Maybe, you think, just maybe, it could still be a fluke. Only one more time to get things right, and then all will just go back to normal. Maybe you’ll be fine today. He’ll be fine.

There’s a buzzing in your ears, and you’re not sure if it comes from the green symbols gyrating around your arm or if you’re just imagining it altogether.

“What happened to your face?” Bucky asks unexpectedly, casually, as if he were talking about the weather.

“What do you mean?”

“You look like you dove head-first into a rose bush.”

“Hah.” You slowly sit up, your muscles aching for a hot shower. Three days of training and fighting in a row are not agreeing with your body. “Must’ve scratched myself in my sleep.”

If he sees through your lie, he doesn’t call you out on it. “Didn’t know you have talons.”

“My cat slept soundly, thank you very much,” Bucky says dryly.

“See, that’s exactly what she wants you to think.”

“Funny.” He stands up, hanging the piece of cloth over the side of the boxing ring to air out. “Take the towel on the right, I already used the other one.”

“Thanks, Buck,” you say with a smirk. He ignores you.

***

The shower is what brings your mood back down again. In the silence of the water hitting your back, there’s enough time for you to think about the upcoming day that you’ve already been through twice.

Up until the mission, it’s gone by fine, unremarkably so, which only makes the build-up to the evening even worse, in your opinion. You face the stream of hot water directly, trying to rid yourself of the image of Bucky lying on the floor, bleeding out in front of you.

You need to be rational about this.

First, you need to figure out what’s going on with your powers. Then, you have to make up your mind about lunch, because while you don’t exactly resent the thought of your third pizza in as many days, your stomach sadly doesn’t agree with that notion. And finally, you’re going to break this damn cycle you’re in. Easy as that.

You turn off the shower with your newfound resolve and grab the clean towel.

Your determination lasts up until you get back to your room and realize you don’t actually know how you are going to fix your powers. They’ve always been somewhat fickle, unpredictable even to you, acting up whenever it’s most inconvenient. Impossible.

No one has ever been able to tell you where they came from, nor how you could properly control them. Everything you know you had to figure out through trial and error, replaying the same scenario over and over again, and, more often than not, lucky coincidences.

Usually, when your rings are black and your powers are weakened, it helps to let your body regain its strength first. In other words, you need to sleep.

This is something you probably should have thought through before getting your morning coffee with an extra shot of espresso, out of habit, but that’s not something you can change right now.

The living room area wouldn’t usually be your first choice for a midday nap, but you’re not ready to face the bloodstains on your bedding quite yet, so you’ll have to make do with one of the suspiciously IKEA-looking throw pillows on the couch. The TV is chattering away in the background, just loud enough to somewhat distract you from your own thoughts.

It’s not enough to fall asleep, though.

You keep tossing and turning, half-listening to three or four episodes of some nineties sitcom, while your anxiety gnaws away at your insides. There’s a constant low pounding in your head that drives you up the wall, and again you swear you can hear the symbols looping around your wrist. You keep scratching at your sweatband, but it’s no use.

You don’t know how much time has passed before the pattering of small paws makes you sigh in disdain.

There’s an obnoxiously loud meowing close to your feet, followed by a sudden weight dropping on your stomach that almost invites your garlic bread back up for a double feature. You peer out at the white shape on top of you, innocently toying with the hem of your shirt.

In general, you like cats just fine, but something about Alpine has always unsettled you. Sure, she’s a cute-looking ball of fluff, but she’s also quick to scratch unsuspecting people bending down to pet her, and she seems to have a particular bone to pick with you.

“Maybe she’s just a good judge of character,” Sam jokes whenever you complain about it.

“She doesn’t like you any better.”

“Yeah, but I’m allergic to her,” Sam shrugs. “The farther she stays away, the more a favor it’s doing me.”

In truth, the only person Alpine likes is Bucky, and she loves to show it every chance she gets.

“You’re in her spot.”

Alpine graciously allows you to push up to your elbows with a groan. Bucky’s tall figure is looming over your head; there’s a bemused expression on his face. He must’ve just walked in through the door, because he’s still wearing his jacket.

“Why does the cat need a spot on the couch, exactly?” You try to shoo her off your lap, but Alpine digs her claws deeper into your shorts and you wince. “You really need to teach her manners.”

“You gotta be gentle with her,” Bucky says, pulling her off you without a hitch. “Move over.”

You swing your legs off the couch with a roll of your eyes. “Can’t you sit somewhere else?”

“Nope. This is my spot, too.”

“Great,” you sigh, angling yourself away from him. “I’ll be sure to make a reservation next time.”

Alpine starts purring as Bucky scratches her under the chin. “You watchin’ that?”

“I was trying to nap,” you mumble, throwing him the remote with a little more force than necessary. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Thirteen twelve hours.”

“Please stop just saying numbers when I ask you that.”

Bucky smirks again and switches channels. “Quarter past one-ish.”

You blink at him tiredly, surprised to find out he’s been back so early. The past two days, you didn’t see him around again until the broadcast was about to start. Then again, you didn’t really pay attention at that point, either.

There’s that tick in his jaw that he always gets when something is bothering him, even as he’s distracted by a playful cat in his lap. You’d better relieve him of the burden of your presence.

“Well,” you say, standing up. Alpine whines indignantly at the sudden movement. “I’ll try to find a cat-free spot in this tower, then.”

“Try the floor,” Bucky says as you’re almost out of the room. He doesn’t turn when you do, but he seems to feel your questioning gaze. “If you can’t sleep. It helps, sometimes.”

You hide your hands in your pants pockets, even though it’s far too late by now. He’s already noticed your black rings.

With a short hum, you briskly walk back to your room, leaning against the door as it closes behind you. This is getting ridiculous, you think, worrying the ring on your pinkie finger with your thumb. As if you didn’t have enough reasons to get a hold of your powers again; you don’t know what you would do if Bucky really got suspicious of you now.

Taking a deep breath, you eye your bed. Compared to yesterday, the blood stains on your sheets are barely more than a few specks, because you weren’t as close to Bucky when it happened. Somehow, that doesn’t make you feel any better.

“Fine,” you mutter in annoyance, grabbing one of your pillows and throwing it on the floor next to your bed. “FRIDAY, can you wake me in time for Sam’s speech?”

“Of course,” FRIDAY tells you. “Do you want me to use the same song as this morning?”

“Please don’t.” A little idea pipes up at the back of your head. “Do you have any record of playing that song before?”

“Last dates played. Friday, July 4th 2025, 07:50 a.m. Playtime: forty-five seconds. Thursday, March 13th 2014, 02:49 a.m. Playtime: one hour, twenty-seven minutes, eighteen seconds. End of record.”

Interesting night for Tony, then, but not exactly telling when it comes to your time loop situation. With a sigh, you get settled on the floor, staring up at the ceiling until your eyes get too tired.

You’ll think of something once you’ve had a bit of sleep. He’ll be fine.

And then, just as you’re finally about to drift off, you feel a sudden jolt go through you. It’s a bizarre sensation, like you’re falling and jumping at the same time, but your body isn’t actually moving with you. Like someone pulling at your very consciousness.

Your eyes fly open and you gasp for air.

You’re still in your room, which should be good news, but everything looks … weird. Not as out of focus as it would be if you were simply dreaming, but somehow crooked, the angles unusually pronounced. The colors are all off, the lights way lower than they should be this time of day, and when you reach out for the edge of your bed, your hands—

You take a sharp breath. Your fingers are bare, no trace of your rings anywhere, and even worse, your hands are partly transparent. Cautiously, you get up on your equally as see-through legs and turn around.

When you see your own body still lying in bed next to where you’re standing, you almost trip over your own feet.

You stare at yourself in disbelief. One of your body’s hands is tucked under the pillow, and it’s breathing regularly. Carefully, you take a step closer and reach out your noncorporeal hand. Your shoulder feels warm and solid underneath your fingertips.

Your body wrinkles its nose in its sleep and you jerk back again, losing your balance and falling to the floor. Your body doesn’t react at all, even though you pull part of the blanket with you as you go down.

“Okay. This is a dream,” you tell yourself, even though you feel your heart pounding. “Just some weird-ass dream, and I have to wake up.” Again, you can’t help but look at the sleeping body lying in your bed.

You press your hands over your eyes, willing yourself to slow your breathing. The edge of your nightstand jabs you painfully between the shoulder blades, too real to be nothing more than an act of your imagination.

“You’re not what I expected.”

The man’s voice makes you flinch slightly. Slowly, you peek through your fingers.

You either didn’t notice him while you were taking in your surroundings or he’s just blended in with them seamlessly, although you’re not sure how that last one could even be a possibility. His back is turned to you, his frame covered by a long, deep red cloak with intricate patterns stitched along the seams. He’s perusing your bookshelf, picking up old copies seemingly at random.

For some reason, your shock at the sight of him is outweighed by immediate irritation. Something about the man instantly irks you.

“Thanks, I think,” you tell him, throwing the edge of the blanket over your sleeping body again as you get up, never letting the man out of your sight.

He turns around, one of his eyebrows raised. Your eyes immediately fall on the amulet around his neck and your heart gives a stutter. You ignore it.

“Not a compliment.” He holds up a book. “This is how you spend your time, then?”

“Sue me for trying to relax in between saving the world,” you say, crossing your arms.

“Of course,” the man says wryly. “Because god forbid you use those powers of yours to their full extent, we wouldn’t want that.”

“And what’s it to you?” you snap.

The man calmly puts the book down again; not where he picked it up from, you notice in annoyance.

“My name is Doctor Stephen Strange,” he says, watching your face for your reaction. “Ah, so you have heard of me.”

Of course you have. You know who he is, you must’ve seen his picture hundreds of times during the Blip, and even before that, you’d heard about his reputation. As one of the keepers of the time stone back when it still existed, he’s on your list of people you least want to see, ever.

You narrow your eyes at him. “How did you find me? What—” You take a quick look back at your own sleeping form. “What is this place?”

“The astral plane,” he says, swiping your bookshelf for dust and inspecting his fingertips contemptuously. They’re shaking ever so slightly. “Something you would know if you hadn’t spent the past decade avoiding every single chance to use your powers responsibly.”

“Wow,” you huff. “You don’t know anything about me or about my powers.”

“Don’t I, Y/N Y/L/N?” Strange’s cloak flaps slightly as if it were shrugging.

“I spent the last couple of years trying to save lives.”

“You’re riding on luck and pretend it’s control. You have no idea what this could do to the grand scheme of things.”

“Well, I never asked for these powers, okay?” you say defensively. “I just have them. What I don’t have is any interest in being a pawn in some grand scheme of things when I never wanted any of this.”

“People don’t generally get a choice in that matter.” His gaze drops to your wrist. “And now look where your resistance to accept your responsibilities got you.”

The green band of symbols is still leisurely circling around your arm. You bite your tongue. “I don’t know how that happened,” you say, your voice breaking slightly on the last word.

“It happened because you activated the time stone,” Strange sneers. “Your powers are a lot stronger than you even care to realize, and it was idiotic to keep them a secret.”

“Why, so you could use them for your own gain?”

“So I could prevent this exact kind of thing from happening.”

You throw your hands in the air in frustration. “So end it, then. Or did you drag me here just to berate me?”

Strange chuckles humorlessly. “This is not something others can just fix for you, Miss Y/L/N. You cast a very powerful spell in creating this loop, and you are the only one who can lift it again.”

“Great. I’m screwed, then, is that what you’re saying?” You might not be inside of your body at the moment, but you can still feel your cheeks heating up. “I want you to leave me the fuck alone.”

“You need to calm down,” Stange says sharply.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, get out of my—head, or whatever this is. Get out!”

“Alright then. Continue to play stubborn. See how far it gets you.” He holds out his right hand and there’s a crack in the air behind him; almost like a doorway, or a mirror. “I’ll be here when you’re done acting like a child.”

You come to on your bedroom floor, feeling almost more tired than you did when you laid down earlier. It takes your bleary eyes a moment to adjust to your surroundings again. When you sit up, a thin throw blanket that you don’t remember pulling over your shoulders falls into your lap.

This really is just a whole bunch of disasters stacked on top of each other.

You don’t even have to look at your rings to know there’s still not the slightest green spec in sight. Your fingers find your necklace and you tug slightly to reassure yourself of its presence. How the hell did Strange even find you?

There’s no time to think about it for too long, because once again, there’s a knock at your bedroom door.

“We got a lead on that lab,” Sam shouts on the other side. “Jet’s leaving in half an hour, get ready.”

You blink at the clock on your wall in confusion. Even though you feel like you only spent a couple of minutes in this other dimension you were dragged into, several hours have passed in this one.

Time is seriously out of your hands, and it’s only getting worse.

***

“Don’t you think that maybe they have an alarm set or something?” you say, contemplating the explosives laid out in front of you.

Sam raises his eyebrows, adjusting the intercom chip in his ear. “Is that a hunch or are you telling me?”

“Both.” You flex your fingers. “It’s just that announcing ourselves probably isn’t in our best interest right now.”

“And you couldn’t have said that earlier? As in, before we landed?” Sam sighs.

Bucky snorts as you shrug your shoulders helplessly. Your body desperately needed the half hour of uneasy sleep the flight has afforded it, even though your powers seem to be unimpressed by it.

“Look, it’s gonna be fine,” Sam continues, squeezing your arm. “We’ve handled worse. Besides, if they do have an alarm set, they’re gonna come to us whether we knock down that wall or not.”

“I guess,” you mumble, grabbing the explosives. “Let’s play knock-knock with terrorists then, that oughtta be fun.”

“Reminds me of ‘44,” Bucky says, more to himself than to either of you.

When you follow Sam down the hallway once again, you can’t help but search for the cameras you know are hidden here somewhere, but it’s impossible to tell in the dingy light. You should bring a stronger flashlight next ti—no.

You blink, stopping that thought before it’s fully formed.

There won’t be a next time. This thing ends tonight, once and for all.

Third time’s the charm, right?

About as charming as a kick to the face, you think as you find yourself delivering just that.

Sam takes off. “We better get moving. If you take care of the drive and these idiots, I’ll clear the tunnels for a way out of here!”

Bucky catches Sam’s shield as you disarm the white jacket with the knife and duck as the shots ring out. You’re sweating in your kevlar vest.

“Two o’clock, Bucky,” you tell him, throwing another punch. You’re so sick of this white-coated asshole in particular; it’s like they think you’re in the rumble from West Side Story. “And whatever you do, don’t throw that shield, alright?”

“You’re bossy today,” Bucky huffs, taking out the one with the blaster.

“I think you mean thorough,” you reply as Riff finally goes out cold.

“You tell yourself that.” He reloads his gun instead, shield firmly locked around his right arm. “How much longer for the transfer?”

You glance at the monitors and try to remember. “About a minute, maybe two.”

“Sam, you copy?” The last white jacket goes down.

“Ready for take-off in five,” Sam confirms cheerfully. “Heads-up, there’s at least another dozen heading your way.”

“Got it.” Bucky bumps your shoulder as he starts back towards the computers, leaving you only a second to process the different turnout of events.

Shouldn’t he insist on leaving?

The only thing that differentiates this mission from the first one is that you haven’t had to jump back to know what to look out for, and therefore don’t suffer the immediate side effects a redo usually has on you. You suppose that’s what they initially expected your powers to be like; flawless, useful, magical.

It’s like a slap in the face, even though Bucky doesn’t realize he’s doing it. The fact that he really does think lesser of you because of your stupid, faulty powers stings more than you care to admit.

You shake yourself back to the present moment. “Take the drive and then get away from there!” you shout, trying to catch up with him. Your lungs are burning. “They’re gonna blow up the—”

The blast of the explosion throws you backwards and you land on one of the unconscious bodies on the ground. Coughing, you roll to your hands and knees.

“Wha—ppening?” Sam’s cut off voice comes through the broken comms.

“Bucky?” You stumble towards the flaming mess that was the lab corner.

He must have hit his head on the side of the big table, but the shield had protected him from the sharp edge. He’s pressing a hand to his wound and he’s conscious and fine. He’s fine.

You can’t stop a relieved laugh as you crouch down next to him. “Wanna get out of here or what?”

The reflection of the flames makes his eyes almost look green as he squints at you, groaning. “Geez, I hate you.”

“Come on, tough guy,” you say and he lets you pull him to his feet, almost toppling over at his unsteadiness. “Let’s get you home.”

You keep turning around as you make your way to the tunnels, keep looking back towards the staircase you came down, worrying about the reinforcements Sam told you about. Maybe that’s your mistake.

Because you haven’t made it this far before, you don’t think to check that the unconscious white jackets are all still unconscious.

You still have Bucky’s shield arm around your shoulder as he jerks, sensing the motion on his left before you do. He catches the first bullet with his metal arm as you twist out of your hold on him, grabbing your knife and whirling back around. He makes a side step, taking a big swing—

Only you told him not to throw the shield.

And then you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and–

“Okay, alright, turn it off, FRIDAY!”

By the time you wipe your mouth and flush the toilet with shaky knees, hair and face still caked with blood, you’re finally starting to understand how well and truly screwed you are.

***

You lean against the fridge, staring at Sam while he’s typing away at the kitchen island. He likes working standing up for some reason, particularly when he has to write some sort of statement.

“If I have to give the speech standing up, I’ve gotta write it standing up,” he’s explained it to you once. You can’t pretend to get it, but you suppose it’s also a perk to be within an arm’s length of snacks at all times while you’re getting stuff done.

“What do you want?” Sam says evenly. His gaze remains fixed on his laptop, his fingers never stopping to move.

You bite your lip. It’s a bad, very bad, terrible idea. You shouldn’t be bothering him with your fuck-up. You don’t even know how to go about it without having him laugh in your face.

“What if I told you that I’m stuck in a time loop?”

The question comes out weirdly flat, as if you’re joking. Fuck, what’s happening to you? You’ve always been fine with being the person who knows more than anyone else in the room. This situation though …

It’s different. It unrattles you in a way your powers never have, because even though it’s your own doing, it also seems so out of your control.

Sam raises an eyebrow, still not looking up. “I’d ask when you started drinking today and why you did it without me.”

Honestly, you should have expected something along these lines as long as you have no way of proving it to him.

“Well,” you say light-heartedly, as if you’re merely chitchatting. “What would you do if you were reliving the same day over and over again?”

“Enjoy my time off, probably,” Sam says, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

“I’m serious.”

“And I’m starving. Shouldn’t the food be here by now?”

You check your phone. “About half a minute.”

It gives you an idea for the future.

Lo and behold. You startle the poor delivery guy, opening the front door right before he can knock. “Hi,” you smile, handing him a generous tip. “We don’t know each other, right?”

“Uhm. What?”

“Do you have like, two minutes?”

“Did you have to haggle for them, first?” Sam calls over when you finally make it back to the kitchen, closing his laptop and helping you put down the boxes and containers on the counter.

“Had to convert to Pastafarianism,” you say, getting out the cutlery. “Ready for blasphemy?”

Sam chuckles.

By the time lunch is done and Sam has left for Madison Square Garden, another wave of exhaustion catches up with you. You pull your rings off and leave them on the table before you lie down on the second couch in the living room area, hoping that maybe this time, you’ll get a little bit of rest.

Only once again, it’s no use. Every time you close your eyes, you’re back in the lab, watching Bucky get shot. The background buzz of the TV isn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of your cursed memories.

Or the sound of the cat whining next to your ear.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Alpine settles on your chest this time, leaving long white hairs all over your shirt and hitting you in the face with her tail. You grimace, trying not to inhale any of her fur.

“You’re in her spot.”

You don’t bother turning your aching head. “I thought her spot was over there!” you say accusingly, gesturing vaguely to the other side of the living room.

“Who told you that?” Bucky says, a bemused tone in his voice as he scoops Alpine up in his gloved hands, careful not to touch you. “Move over.”

You blink at him. You did.

You feel his expectant glare on you and sigh.

“Really, you too? We have plenty of room, you know.” You pull your knees in.

“I do,” he says, sitting down next to you and reaching underneath the cushions. “But you’re always hoggin’ the remote.”

You put your cold feet on his thigh in retaliation. Bucky tenses.

“How are you so cold, it’s like ninety degrees outside.”

“Emphasis on outside,” you shrug. “I just run cold.”

“That you do.” He switches channels, then pulls his gloves off and puts them on the table next to your rings.

You bite the inside of your cheek and roll to the floor inelegantly. Alpine meows in disdain, like a knife scratching the whole diameter of a dinner plate.

“Please tell your cat to chill, geez,” you mumble, slumping down on the other couch and stretching your legs out again with a contented sigh.

Bucky doesn’t reply.

“My dear girl,” a thickly accented voice on the TV says, “you cannot keep bumping your head against reality and saying it is not there. The evidence was definite. We can’t remove it by wishing or crying.”

“He trusted me,” a female voice answers. “I led him into a trap, I convicted him. Is that real enough for you?”

“There is no one to blame,” the first voice continues. “The case was a little deeper than you figured. This often happens. You must realize now one thing, it is over for both of you.”

“What are you watching?” you ask.

There’s a short pause before Bucky answers. “Hitchcock. Spellbound.”

You can’t help your reaction.

“Why’d you just do that?” Bucky says.

You stare at the ceiling. “Do what?”

“You flinched.”

“Did not.” You can taste blood in your mouth.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

You turn to the side and demonstratively stare at him, even though it makes your insides twist. Bucky’s face doesn’t change at all as he gazes back at you, frown deepening between his eyebrows. It’s like he’s trying to drown you with the endless blue of his eyes.

You drop your gaze and shake your head.

“What’s your point, Bucky? Not everyone likes staring at people like you do.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird. And invasive.”

“It’s invasive to look at you?”

“Yes,” you say, “if you do it like that.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know!” You sit back up again in exasperation. “What do you want from me, Bucky?”

You look at his face this time, not his eyes. It still makes your cheeks burn, because his jaw sets that way again and he doesn’t immediately respond.

“Something’s wrong,” he says, finally, and you hide your face between your hands in what you can only hope looks like frustration. Then you realize that that’s only making your missing rings more obvious.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you snap, balling your hands into fists.

“Tell me.”

“I don’t have anything to tell you!”

“You promised,” Bucky says coolly. “Remember?”

Your stomach plummets.

“Yes,” you say, forcing your voice to stay calm. “But I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to worry. I’ve got this.”

You feel his eyes on your back all the way to your room, and you’re not sure if you’re lying to him or to yourself, even as you slam the door behind you and look anywhere but your bed.

Your book is lying in the wrong place.

*****

“Honestly, Nat, you could’ve killed her.”

“Don’t be dramatic. She’s made of stronger stuff than that.”

There were yellow dots dancing across your vision when you opened your eyes, groaning at the bright neon lights hitting you in the face.

You were lying on the mat in the gym of the Compound and your nose had been ripped clean off; at least that was what it felt like. Judging by your red-soaked shirt, your guess wasn’t that far off, though.

“Hey,” Natasha said, kneeling down next to you. “Sorry, that must hurt like a bitch.”

“Your head is bery solid,” you replied, touching the blood still dribbling down your face. “Ow.”

“Thank you,” she said and handed you a wet towel. “Put that in your neck and lean your head back.”

“Di’ I faind?”

“You knocked yourself out, honey,” she said with a sly grin.

“It isn’t funny, Nat,” Steve shouted. You snorted, then winced in pain.

“Don’t worry,” Natasha winked. “You’re gonna be as pretty as before once you clean up. Already reset your nose while you were out.”

“Thangs.”

Surprisingly, this was the first serious injury you’d sustained in the past couple of weeks you’ve been living as a rookie Avenger; though in truth, that was mostly due to the fact that Natasha had only had you build up your stamina and agility up until today. Your first proper day in the ring was nothing short of humiliating.

“You could always go back to the moment before you decided to headbutt me,” Natasha said once the bleeding had finally stopped.

You wiped your nose carefully, taking a few breaths to clear your airways. “Sadly, that’s not how it works,” you said, letting her help you slowly come upright again. “I’m the one moving through time, so I stay exactly the same. I can help you guys avoid the punches, but I’ll still be the one receiving them.”

Cursed to stay the same, just like you’d always said.

Natasha tilted her head. “That seems like something you could work on with proper help.”

You grimaced. “I’ve tried that before. There’s no one who can help me, no one who can … fix me, or my powers.”

There was worry in her eyes, then, and you were taken aback by how genuine it seemed. It left a crack in your shell.

“I don’t think that’s true,” she said quietly.

But it was. “I mean it,” you said, your lip twitching. “You can’t tell them that I’m here. For all they know, I got dusted just like everyone else.”

She knew; it had been the one condition you’d set in exchange for your help. That didn’t mean she had to like it.

There was a prolonged pause until Natasha nodded. “All the more reason to get you proper training,” she said, getting back to her feet and helping you up. “Let’s get you some ice cream. Good for the healing.”

You smiled when both she and Steve kept worrying about you the entire way to the kitchen, even though both of them tried hard not to make it obvious. It still filled you with a strange sense of warmth that almost had you forget about the pain.

You were safe here.

Things were finally starting to look up.

chapter three

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#fic rec #Bucky Barnes fic rec #by intrepidacious

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skyfallscotland · 3 days ago

Text

Quicksilver, by Callie Hart 🦋

She is moonlight. The mist that shrouds the mountains. The bite of electricity in the air before a storm.

Ohh boy. Personally I think she is none of those things, but that's me getting ahead of myself. God, I feel so anxious posting a book reaction after the Onyx Storm Debacle, but here we are, with a book I didn't love...again.

So...I started this one with a running commentary again (Throne of Glass style) but I couldn't quite commit. We will however approach it chronologically, because that's an easier way to show my thoughts as they evolved.

Would I recommend this book? No. And I’ll tell you why, but there are spoilers ahead so be aware of that.

Friends...I did not enjoy this one and I'm starting to feel like a crazy person. Is this just a massive reading slump? Or am I weird? Because everyone seems to think these books are the best thing since sliced bread and I've not liked a single one of them 😭

My first impressions? Saeris is so cliché. Like oh we're starving and can barely survive, you can see my ribs, but actually I can scale a giant wall and fight all these fully trained guards and win...ok, sure. It's giving 00's YA vibes but alright, I'm rolling with it.

I had no understanding of what it was I was doing, but if this was a world-ending gift, then good. Fuck this city and fuck this world. My family was already doomed, and what did I care for anyone else?

Bit dramatic, but whatever, I'll still ride with you. Who am I to judge? I did write Remi.

“I wear pants. Shirts. Things I can move easily in. So I can run, and climb, and—” Kill people.

"So cliché." I mutter to myself as I put the book down. Then pick it up again. Then put it down again and use the audiobook instead.

At some point, Layne would accept that I just didn't eat that much, and she'd stop loading up my plate with so much food. She'd slip an apple into her pocket for me or something.

*Deep breaths* Saeris would absolutely fit in on mid 2000's tumblr. Babe, this is such a weird flex to include when you’ve already made it very clear she was a starving orphan, ok?

We also met the infamous Carrion—more on that later—and her brother...who sucks. No two ways about it. I hated him immediately. Are there any decent book-brothers out there? Or just...no? I thought from the way he was acting he was going to be fourteen but no, he's like TWENTY, what the fuck 😭

So anyway, hooray! We've fallen through a portal to a new world and that's the stage set—then we meet Kingfisher. Oh man. Kingfisher.

Firstly:

This is a kingfisher. I just want y’all to know that. I know it’s not his ‘real’ name but it’s still what she’s crying out in rapture ok, a choice was made and it wasn’t a good one.

Anyway, surprise surprise, he's an asshole, but here’s the rub: he doesn't seem redemptive.

My jaw was screaming, I was clenching my teeth so hard. “Fuck—you—” “There you go again. Hungry, needy little bitch in heat, begging to be fucked…” he taunted. “Let. Go!”

I’m ok with enemies to lovers, but there has to be a hint at least that the ‘bad guy’ can be a decent person. There has to be something that hooks me about him—his entire personality can’t just be ‘asshole’, and above all, despite the fact he doesn’t like the FMC (even loathes her for all I care) he has to at least have some basic respect for her, otherwise I’m not down. That’s just my personal take, you don’t have to agree, but it makes me uncomfortable otherwise.

“I don't hate your kind. I'm just disappointed by how breakable you are. If I held you down and fucked you the way I'm imagining fucking you right now, I doubt that you’d survive it.”

Like that? That’s not cute or arousing in any way.

“That your body is betraying you in other ways. That I can smell you, Little Osha, and I'm thinking about drinking the sweet nectar you're making for me straight from the fucking cup.”

I do also think the smut was just not for me in this book, as a general rule, I did find it very cringe. Case in point ^

A FUNNY INTERLUDE:

—a look of rye amusement on his irritatingly handsome face.

LMAO this was meant to be wry, I assume? There were a few instances like this throughout the book, as well as typos and missing punctuation. Which, we’re all human, I get it, but it kind of annoys me a little when this was picked up for trad pub, pulled from KU (I bought it—twice!) and has since gotten a million dollar Netflix deal. Please, if we’re going to be doing that, the publishing house needs to edit the damn book. Honestly? I think it could have done with 200-300 less pages. A developmental edit was needed, let alone a final edit.

Anyway. Onwards.

So they make a blood pact, in which she agrees to basically do whatever the fuck he says, which is...tired. I'm tired. The book is tired. We're all a little tired here.

Kingfisher held out his hand and pulled me to my feet, making a derisive sound when he saw the cut I'd inflicted upon myself. “Baby.”

It’s just...this utter derision he has for her, his supposed (spoiler alert!) fated mate, that just gives me the ick.

Then there's this:

Kingfisher stunned me to silence when he dropped to his knees and started picking up the shards of broken cup. “It's all right, Archer. Hush, it's all right.”

Ok, this here is the first indication we get that he can be a decent person, and it’s not with her, it’s with some random character we’ve just met. Do I grow to like Archer? Sure, but right now I don’t know him from Adam, all this scene tells me is that Fisher is capable of respect and kindness, just not with Saeris. Be so for fucking real right now, that does not make you want to root for them. If this were your bestie you’d be screaming for them to run. This is the crux of it all. We had to get like 300 pages into this book for there to be a single hint of redemption in him and to me that's bad technique.

Clearly everyone else disagrees since they're out there praising it, but I've nearly DNF'd so many times by now, because you're 👏 not 👏 giving 👏 me 👏 crumbs. Please, give the reader something! It's all well and good for people to be out here going "well he's like that for a reason" (spoiler alert: the reason sucks, it's just the cliché 'I wanted to push her away for her own safety) but his reasoning means shit if people lose interest and don't get far enough to find out what it even is.

Note: by 'people' I mean the rest of the internet, not anyone here specifically, but since a few of you have said the same, just know that's a generalisation and I still love you! But I fear my point stands, his change of heart/any indication of kindness comes too late in the game for it to be an effective character arc (more on this later!!)

Anywho—

I shouldn't have moaned. I definitely shouldn't have told him that I wanted him. For the love of all the gods in all the heavens, why had I said that? I was going to throw up.

Same babe. Why did you? Why do you?

I couldn't believe we'd finally arrived here.

Me either!! 56% of the way in! We've basically done absolutely nothing but wander around and talk about how hot and mean he is for 300 pages but finally you're...doing things...with him 😬

Every part of me wanted to scramble from the bed and bolt for the door, but I knew that would be folly. Just like a hell cat, Fisher would give chase.

So terrified every part of you wants to bolt for the door...charming. Very hot. Love that for you.

“I could probably use a sho—” “Do not fucking dare finish that sentence,” he snarled. “I don't want a mouthful of soap and perfume. I want to taste you.”

Shower. She was going to say shower.

Another note, because I'm incapable of not shouting this from the rooftops when the occasion arises—vaginas are self-cleaning, there should be no soap or perfume going in there! You would have tasted her anyway you dumbass. You'd think he'd know that, given he's supposedly been in more of them than your local gynaecologist.

“And we can’t lie.”

*deep breaths* since WHEN? And that only makes it worse??

I'd imagined the words. Fabricated them out of thin air and somehow played them aloud in my own head in his voice.

Oh, hey Violet, how did you get here?

So anyway, then we enter the final conflict? Confrontation? Where she needs to go and save her newfound mate from under the mountain the bad guy's place! (oh and there's vampires, did I mention that before? No? Well there is now).

Anyway, turns out Rhysand Kingfisher was trapped there for 110 years with big bad Malcolm, who it's implied sexually assaulted him during that time, but we never address that. Why? Well this is romantasy and we only have six-hundred pages, why would we? Just throw traumatic experiences in there for the sake of it, why not?

Anyway—

“That's right. Fifty-five. He spent the next eight years trying to find the coin once he reached the center, didn't you, my love?”

I'm?????

55+8=63... what happened to the other 47 years? Guys? I'm????

Whatever, who cares about math! We're on the escape until—WOAH.

“It can't see or hear you. It tracks movement.”

Don't panic, don't panic, we all know how to defeat the middengard wyrm whatever that thing is! And we do. But not really, because everything in this maze regenerates, just like romantasy plotlines.

More fighting, more evil villain monologuing, etc.

THEN Saeris has to go and find a coin to break the blood oath Kingfisher made with big-bad, even though big-bad said he broke it himself five minutes ago during his evil monologue in order to make Fishie confess to...things.

“I release you from your oath to us, Kingfisher, Bane of Gillethrye. Now, go on. Tell your friends all about the deal you struck with us all those years ago.”

But no matter, we're off to find a coin and no worries, we've got that down! Of course in the process Feyre Saeris dies and gets brought back to life again as an all powerful fae/vampire queen hybrid. WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT?

Not me, even I couldn't have predicted that double-doozy. Probably this guy though:

Zareth. God of Chaos.

Which? NO. Nope. No. Too late. FAR too late in the game for this. I'm out.

The way we went through so many boring pages of nothingness to this in the last 20% is truly something.

OK! SIDE CHARACTERS:

Danya was a complete and total waste of everyone's time, she existed only to be the bitchy, elitist mean girl side character who was mean to poor Saeris and occassionally made her jealous. This one-dimensional treatment of female characters grinds my gears. Even Everlayne, Kingfisher's sister was entirely useless, making Saeris the special female unicorn. Pretty sure this book fails the Bechdel test.

Ren was nice, I liked him, poor long-suffering man that he was.

Lorreth. Man, y'all can't shut up about Carrion and you're really sleeping on Lorreth. This man saved me from DNF'ing, he was fantastic. Put some respect on his name! 10/10 no notes. The guy you'd actually want to get with if this book were real.

He'd still looked dumbstruck as he headed off in the direction of his tent, cradling Avisiéth like a baby in his arms.

Carrion. CARRION. Ok straight up...is that really a word we want to be using as a name? Really? Is it relevant? Like did we do that on purpose because he somehow reflects roadkill? I figured we'd find out, but NOPE 💀

Who fucking knows at this point though whether it is his name. I doubt it, given Kingfisher's name is apparently not Kingfisher either. Personally though I still think that should have been addressed in the book. It's over 200k words, you can tell us why certain nicknames exist.

The thief held up his hands. “You're right. I apologize. I'm just a little on edge right now. I'm not my best self.”

Hilarious, there to cause trouble most of the time, 10/10, almost no notes.

“Are you going to tell me about my parents, or are you going to start undressing each other? Because I can leave. I don't have to, but I can,” Carrion said.

Except the part where he turns out to be a thousand-year-old fae too and a secret, mystery, vampire-killing-prince dude or whatever, there's a note about that and how it's kinda unnecessary to drop in the final 5%. Was it foreshadowed? Not effectively, no. Also Carrion Daianthus? Roadkill, crows, and...pink flowers? Yeah. That's him. That's the one 💀

Onyx. Token wild animal taken in as pet/familiar trope. She can have this one. He's cute.

Elroy. Dude's definitely going to become important again. How much do we wanna bet he's Fisher's dad? Anyone?

Anyway, this was wildly chaotic and I don't really feel bad about it because so was this book. It started out well in the first 5-10%. It was a slog to read between the 10% mark and 60%. Honestly, it only got better once they'd fucked for the first time, which was because Kingfisher's character did a 180 overnight with a big fat handwavey motion, like our FMC's magic coochie cured him of his violent tendencies. Like not to be crude, but I'm not sure there's any other way of putting it.

I think it's just not a great book, which I also think is a shame because the world is interesting, I loved the parts of alchemy we got (which weren't enough, imo) and the swords, the magic, the portals, the quicksilver, etc. I think it had so much potential and that's ultimately why it also bothers me so much as well. It feels squandered through a lack of refinement and editing.

Will I read the next one? Maybe. I'll let someone else take the hit first and see if it's any better paced this.

This has gone on long enough lmao, so I'll just leave you with one last quote that I think really sums up this book so, so much:

“Not that. The brother part,” she said in a loud whisper. “That’s not common knowledge?” “Well, yes. And no. It's just not spoken about. And it's very, very complicated.”

Yeah...

#read with amy 🤓#quicksilver spoilers #please don't eviscerate me for this

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readychilledwine · 2 days ago

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Roots

Summary - 5 years into her new life, Elain starts to wonder why she was paired with Lucien

Warnings - Fated mates, snooping, mentions of abuse, mentions of death,

A/N - Happy House of Vanserra week 💕 I am so excited for you all to see the different things we all have created. Be sure to hop over to the @thehouseofvanserra blog to see all the fun.

Ps - I very loosely edited things for this event. I'll be fixing errors once I have fresh eyes

A steady thrum echoed in Elain's ears. She could dance to the rhythmic pattern if she wanted to. She had memorized it within a month of being made. What else could she have done, though? That steady drum tied to the male she resented.

Though, if it was truly resentment, she did not truly know. Lucien was… unexpected, to say the least. So, perhaps she would wind her feelings for Lucien to that. They were an unknown and unexpected.

Elain had planned her life perfectly before all of this. She was going to marry Graysen, have 4 children, then tend to her gardens until they grew old and gray together. They'd be laid to rest under her favorite weeping tree that sat on his home. Together forever. But forever looked different now.

Being made, being turned into this, it still sat like a rock in her stomach at times. She had lost so much. Her papa, her fiancé, every sense of things familiar and comforting, but she had gained more.

She had gained a brother in Rhysand. a close friend she could rely on who gave her the energy she gave to him. She had gained Nuala and Cerridwen, second sisters who loved her for her kindness and talents. She had gained a chance to repair things with Feyre to learn who her little sister was. As little as she wanted to admit, she had also gained Lucien. A man, male, she corrected her mind, made for her.

Elain stood, her blush robe light and brushing the ground as she walked outside to her balcony. “Why him,” her voice carried to the wind, to the trees. She sighed as she looked to the moon. “Please. Tell me.”

Silence met her as it had since the Cauldron's nullification. Silence and a beat. A soft thud that synced with hers if she allowed it.

She shivered in the early autumn breeze but paused to catch the perfect leaf fluttering by. The red hues were like fire, the veining deep and tangled, enchanting her so deeply she missed that she had missed the sudden switch of magic. When she looked up, she was no longer in the Night Court. That much was clear.

The room Elain Archeron was vacant of scent or warmth. It had been emptied of life for a while. Elain did notice, though, there was not a speck of dust. It was as if the room was a relic, standing still in time. So still, that even a book remained unmoved, a dried and persevered tulip marking the reader's place in pages that had not been turned for some time.

She took tentative steps, dropping the leaf and failing to notice when it disappeared to return to its rightful owner. The book was bound in deep green leather with brown trim. The pages were yellowed with age, something she knew was common in the libraries of the fae. She flipped it over, eyes softening as she read the stitching on the front. “Flora : A Complete Botanical Study of the Autumn Court.”

The pages were dog-eared as she flipped through it, sitting on the bed to admire the text. Graceful scroll filled the margins of the thick parchment, notes about petal shape, hardiness, meaning behind the flowers. Something in her began to sing as she reached the bookmark. It was a tulip pressed and persevered. She closed the book, holding it to her chest as she continued to walk around the room.

The next thing to catch her eye was a desk. Maps were laid out on it, notes on separate paper, ink faded with age. Travel plans stared back at her. Each destination was picked with time and care. This clearly had been a trip its planner had wanted to take in one long journey. It bounced between the coast and mainlands. Nation to nation throughout the realm. Each spot had notes regarding what would be done there and during which the adventure planned on making it there by.

One city caught her eye the most. Liltwood sat across the sea, and the only note was one she had only heard rumors of as a girl “Spring Flower Festival." She snuck those plans into the book, intending on asking Rhysand about this Liltwood once she found a way to explain her sudden discovery.

This room was filled with things she longed to keep. A whittled box holding flowers pressed and enchanted, no doubt used for the same thing as the tulip in the book she held. More books than she could count regarding the Flora and Fauna of the courts of Prythian. But she also had figured out where she was. Soft clues of him lingered as if they were a ghost.

Fine clothing still sat pressed and prepared for Lucien over a changing screen. Perhaps, at some point, it was a sign of him that someone refused to let go of. An altar that they used to try to bring him home. Elain had heard the story many times, the death of the female her mate loved, his banishment from his true home.

“How ironic,” she thought to herself, that both she and the male she bound to by the Cauldron had lost their first loves and the one place they both longed to call home.

Calloused hands grabbed her upper arm, “Don't make a noise.” Lucien was whispering. “You should not be here, Elain.”

Elain spun quickly, brown eyes assessing him as he looked her over, checking for injury in case the letter sent from Eris had not gotten to him fast enough. In case she was hurt. “How did-”

Lucien interrupted her gently, “The Forest House is a living being, my lady. The second you used my key, I knew. The House knew. Everyone inside knew. Eris has been warding the door since you arrived.”

His metal eye did a quick whirl before landing on the book in her arms, “Taking my belongings, Elain?”

Her blush was a thing of beauty, covering those high cheekbones. “I- I,” she paused before trying to tap into the sass she had hidden deep down. “It was there for the taking,” she settled.

“Oh was it,” his smirk made her heart flutter, the bond tying their ribs glowing. “Let me get you home.” He walked over to the box holding the dried flowers he'd used as bookmarks before offering them to Elain.

Their hands touched, chills running down both of their spines, as she took the wooden container and hugged it close. Lucien pulled out that familiar leaf, offering his hand out. The Forest House opened that rip between courts. Lucien walked himself and Elain through it, almost rolling his eyes as they ended up in his room at the House of Wind. “Figures,” he huffed. “They're both sentient and connected.”

Elain didn't remove her hand from his, instead pulling him to sit on the bed with her. “Does your key into the Forest House always go to your room?”

Lucien glanced at her before sighing, “No, it takes me to where it believes I need to go. Typically, Eris or my mother.”

“So the Forest House believed I needed to see your former bedroom,” her hand traced the title of the book.

“Yes,” his voice was neutral, refusing to see hope where darkness had long stood. “Though, I do not know why.”

She bit her bottom lip, debating on telling him the truth. To her, it was clear as day why the leaf had taken her there. Why did the Forest House decide that's where she needed to be.

She had been looking for answers, and her hands now held them. “I.. had asked why we were.. Why the Cauldron decided I should be with you,” she paused to watch his reaction, the stilling of his breath. She didn't miss the way that beating rhythm skipped. “Do you like flowers?”

Lucien began to chuckle, his eyes meeting her, “I love them, actually. I had wanted to travel the courts when I was young to collect seeds and beg Beron for a greenhouse.” His smile was so genuine. “The house actually summoned all those books for me. I had so much spare time as a 7th son.”

She laughed at the idea of her mate doing nothing but reading. The idea of Lucien in one place seemed so silly, especially now that she held his travel plans from so many years ago in her hands.

“Tell me about your favorite flower,” she asked him.

And as if fate was smiling again, Lucien began to talk about tulips.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

#elizabeths.updates #send asks #send anons #acotar #elucien #elain archeron x lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #pro elucien #lucien vanserra acotar #lucien acotar #elain archeron #elain acotar #thehouseofvanserra2025

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mythals-whore · 9 hours ago

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Some thoughts on fandom engagement

Post got long but TL;DR engagement is low, Never Ever Stop Creating! fandom is community and everyone needs to participate

extended thoughts and personal anecdote under the cut:

For writers:

I have turned off Kudos emails from ao3. I found myself checking my email and feeling discouraged when I didn't get them. So i turned the emails off so I wouldn't know I wasn't getting them. Even now when I go to my dashboard, I specifically do not look at the bottom of the work to see those numbers.

This is not me telling you to do the same thing. It is easier said than done, and I understand that. But that's what I had to do to have a good time.

Because for a little while, posting made it less fun. I felt like people didn't like it. I was being overly critical of myself, couldn't write more than three sentences without feeling like I was garbage and my work was garbage and I should just quit. I would post a chapter and then immediately want to take the whole thing down. But then I realized...

I have about four half-finished projects in my WIP folder. I have written like 500,000 words that no one has ever read. Because I had fun doing it! Because I enjoy writing!!

And the point of this isn't to say writers shouldn't want or expect engagement. That is not at all what I'm saying!

What I am saying is that if you enjoy writing and you find that posting your work is making you feel unmotivated, discouraged, and you're not having fun anymore it is okay to take it down. It’s okay to make your work private for a while. It's okay to turn off Kudos emails or even comments. Whatever you need to do to make it fun again, do that. If you enjoy creating, please do not let the lack of engagement stop you!

It's been really helpful for me to find a community of creators! Without the support of @thedissonantverses @flowersforthemachines and @basedonconjecture I may have deleted my work months ago!

And that said, if you want someone to read your work, there are so many people (including and especially me) who would love to read and promote you! Participate in WIP Wednesday and Writing Weekend! Promote your own work!! Promote other creators' work! This is how we build community!

For readers:

If you love fanfic, and fanart and fandom in general engage with it. The urge to take down your work is real! And not unique to me! If writers don't get kudos or comments or replies on tumblr, they will delete their work. If there's a fic you find, and you enjoy it but you don't engage with it do not be surprised if you log on one day and it isn't there anymore. Or if it gets orphaned. Or if they simply stop updating it.

Fandom is meant to be a community. The whole purpose of it is to enjoy the things you enjoy with other people. If you're consuming free work (be that fanfic, fan art or something else) and you're not liking or reblogging or commenting then those people will stop sharing it.

And my personal take, while we're here: I do not get it.

I do not understand why there are people out there who do not jump at the chance to directly engage with authors and artists who make things that you enjoy. You can tell them personally how much you like their work! You can ask them questions! You can send them your unhinged ramblings on The Character.

And before anyone comes to my replies and says: I never know what to say ))):

Here is a non-comprehensive list of 10 slightly unhinged things that I've actually commented on fics (some edited for brevity)

I am chewing on glass.

bye i’m putting my fist through the wall 😭

These two are consuming my every waking thought

That ruined me i fear. I have passed away

THIS IS LITERATURE. absolutely tore my heart out.

You are sick in the head my friend

Im gonna sip on this sentence a while.🤌🏻

how could you do this to them? writing about this in my burn book brb

A) You absolutely cooked here B) how fucking dare you?

kicking my feet and giggling!!!!!

And this isn't just for ao3/fanfic writers. Fanartists deserve love too! Artists love feedback!! The more unhinged the better!! Tell us we're evil! Quote our work back to us! Tell us you're smashing through walls like the Kool-aid man! Tell us that our work is making you scream and cry and blush!

No one is expecting you to leave several long paragraphs with an actual annotated review (not that that wouldn't also be welcome). Comment! Engage! Community is the whole point!

This also goes for finding Tumblr mutuals, by the way. If you want to make friends with people on here engage with their content! Like their posts! Reply to them! Send asks and messages!

Stop being afraid to enjoy things! That is like...all we are doing here.

#da fandom #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age #building community #fic writing #fandom engagement #ao3 community #dragon age community #artists community #state of fandom #idk i really love it here #and I want you guys to love it #and the answer to all of the above is #please engage with each other #and I'm not the best at it either!#but I'm getting better!#and it's been so lovely!

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elumish · 1 day ago

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Maybe it's a Reddit vs Tumblr thing, and maybe it's just that I don't spend time on those parts of Tumblr anymore, but i feel like I haven't seen handwringing like that in five to ten years.

(And really? The most common response is "don't diversify your cast of characters"?)

So a few thoughts, if this helps:

"I realized I have no diversity and would like to change that." Fine thought. Have a sticker.

"I am white and deliberately only write white characters because POC are way too mysterious and I'm not going to pretend I can understand their experiences." Yep that's racist.

Women or POC or any set of marginalized people aren't a monolith. One of the points I was trying to make in my original post is that people tend to approach writing men as individuals but women as part of the monolith that is womanhood, and so while men are written as people (as individuals) women are written as part of that monolith. Their actions, feelings, decisions, choices, and personality are driven by their gender rather than by who they are as an individual, because they're not written as an individual, they're written as a gender with a hat on top.

"I can write about this" and "I have to do some research" are not at all mutually exclusive, whether you're talking about characters or identities or trains. In one of my books, a love interest is from Singapore, and I am writing about that character--but I've also done research into Singapore to do my best to get it right.

The amount of research you need to do (whether that research is reading first person accounts, looking up facts, talking to people, going somewhere, etc.) is going to differ a lot depending on what you're trying to write. My life as a woman in the US is much more similar to a man's life in the US than a woman's life in Herat, Afghanistan--so I do a lot less research to write about a man in the US than I would to write about a woman in Herat.

One of the things that I think got super muddled up around the #OwnVoices stuff and all of that is that there is a difference between writing a character and claiming that you are representing the Experience Of That Group. If you are not in a group, it's very unlikely that you are the best person to write a book that is solely about what it is like to be a member of that group (like how Jeanine Cummins got panned for American Dirt being touted as the great immigrant story). That doesn't mean that you can't write a character in that group, even as your protagonist/POV character.

If you're thinking about writing women as writing aliens, that is a problem. Point blank, no questions asked. Because it means you don't see women as people. Your first step to being a good writer is understanding that people who aren't male or white or from your country or ablebodied or cis or straight are people.

Everything else, every other piece of writing advice, every other technique, that all comes later.

Hope that helps!

A thing to consider: when you're writing male characters, do you think of it as writing people, or as writing men?

When you're writing female characters, do you think of it as writing people, or as writing women?

In a lot of stories, men are written as people, but women are written as women. Men are written neutrally, with little to no explicit attention paid to their gender, while women are written with a lot of explicit attention paid to their gender. Women's gender becomes part of the story, while the fact that men are men is rarely lingered upon.

So if you're ever struggling to write female characters, or you're wondering why it feels harder, or if they seem less interesting or more annoying than your male characters, consider this: is it because you're focused on writing them as women, while you're used to just writing men as people?

#representation #female characters #characters of color

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kxsagi · 3 hours ago

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"𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐭"

it had been three years that you and isagi yoichi have been dating for. so you couldn’t help but be suspicious why he was leading your hand to the beach known as the “sea of stars” in maldives, also the same place that you told him you dreamt of being proposed to at.

“your eyes are still closed, right?”

“uh huh,” you nod, heart beating in your chest furiously. was tonight the night?

it could have been. this whole trip was very spontaneous after all. your boyfriend had even wanted to book the whole thing and pay for all your expenses himself, even pre-trip stuff like a fresh mani/pedi and new clothes and bags. it was a nice surprise, but he was extra insistent about everything.

the two of you had just finished eating dinner at a fancy restaurant. your lips still taste sweet from the dessert, too. but after getting lost in conversation for an hour, yoichi all of a sudden said he wanted to “take you somewhere,” but “you have to close your eyes.”

the familiar warmth and texture of the grainy sand hits your bare toes as he takes off your heels. you hear him shuffling to take off his shoes, too, then his large hand grabs yours, gently leading you ashore. the relaxing sounds of ocean waves crashing grow louder and louder with each step.

“you’re not gonna push me in the water, right?”

his chuckle fills the air. “wouldn’t dream of it. plus, i wouldn’t wanna ruin that beautiful black off-the-shoulder dress.”

“... you’re acting weird.”

“am i?”

it seemed as if you wouldn’t shut up, trying to mask the nervousness bubbling in your gut. but before you could begin yapping about your favorite part of the dessert you shared an hour ago, you hear, “open your eyes.”

the sight in front of you is breathtaking. stars scattered above in the sky and in the ocean, dark blue neon dots glowing brighter with every movement of a calm wave. you’ve dreamed of seeing bioluminescent phytoplankton like this before, kneeling down gently to lift your dress and place your feet in the water, watching blue glow around your skin.

“wow, it’s so pretty!” you exclaim.

yoichi nods, watching you from a few feet behind as you play around in the water. he’s not one to get his long pants wet, but he’s all for seeing you happy.

after you’re done, you walk back up to him. “there’s like almost no one here!”

“i might’ve paid them to leave us alone for ten minutes,” yoichi shrugs, earning a playful slap to his chest. with a laugh, he points to your left. “look over there.”

you turn to your left, cocking your head as to what he was possibly pointing at. there’s nothing, no boats, no people. just the water and more ethereal bioluminescence. you turn back around, confused.

“i don’t see –”

you’re cut off with yoichi on one knee in front of you, a hand covering half of his face as the other holds a velvet box with a large oval-cut diamond ring on a simple gold band.

“i don’t even know where to start,” he laughs nervously, removing the hand from his face. it’s a bit dark, the only source of light being from the ocean, but you can tell he’s red. “i’ve been rehearsing since 3 AM in the hotel bathroom and i couldn’t sleep.”

you already feel hot tears brimming at your eyelids. yoichi notices, but for you, for this moment, he tries his best to keep himself composed.

“honestly, i’ve been in love with you since the moment i laid eyes on you. and every single day since then, i’ve fallen harder, deeper, and more helplessly into this love. you have completely ruined me, in the best way possible. i can’t function without thinking about you. i wake up thinking about you. i go to sleep thinking about you. every little thing you do, every smile, every laugh, every time you look at me… i swear, it feels like my heart is about to explode."

he lets out a small laugh, shaking his head in disbelief at just how gone he is.

“you are my entire world. you are my best friend, my greatest joy, my deepest love, and, honestly, my only personality trait at this point. i would do anything for you. anything. If you told me to swim across this entire ocean right now, i’d ask you if you wanted me to backstroke or freestyle. if you asked me to count every single star in the sky just so you’d know how much i love you, i’d be out here all night, every night, for the rest of my life."

his voice is thick with emotion, looking up at you with complete devotion.

“i have never, not for a second, doubted that you are the one for me. you are my forever, my always, my everything. so, here i am, in front of the most beautiful person in the world, under the most beautiful sky, by the most beautiful ocean, asking the most important question i will ever ask… will you let me spend forever proving that i was meant to be your husband?"

the waves crash softly, the stars above shining brighter, as if the universe itself is waiting for the only answer that could possibly exist.

“yes.”

it was an easy answer, one that needed no hesitation from you. with the happiest smile and a weight lifted off his chest, yoichi slides the ring onto your left ring finger, standing up, picking you up, and twirling you around with joy.

on this night, the stars bore witness to the two of you beginning forever.

𐙚

it’s safe to say that the internet BLEW up after you posted pictures of you with your diamond engagement ring with the caption: “in my fiance eraaa”

everyone knew of your engagement, shippers going crazy and every social media algorithm showing users your beautiful diamond ring that probably cost $1 million easily.

your comments flooded with fans expressing heartfelt congratulations and jealous haters who could only dream of having a love like yours. your family and friends were also very happy for you and so were yoichi’s family and teammates.

a/n: i am aware that everyone has different skin tones, i just used this pic to show off what the ring looks like!

it would be a lie to say you didn’t spend the next day on pinterest looking at wedding inspo instead of enjoying your vacation.

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒:

the wedding ceremony was held a year later.

you made sure to keep it private, only inviting close friends and family from both sides, but there were still a lot of people.

though you might need to be studied, because how did you break the internet again?

shortly after releasing your wedding pictures, they went just as viral as your engagement announcement.

it wasn’t just the off-shoulder lace mermaid dress, or the way yoichi basically began crying the moment he saw you, or the fact you opted to walk down the aisle alone to show how no one but you was going to give yourself away to the love of your life, or how bachira had a dance-off moment with a soccer ball on the middle of the stage, or the fact that rin actually gave a speech.

no, it was your long trailing veil scattered across the ground with two words delicately embroidered at the end: “MRS. ISAGI.”

a/n: yes i am gonna keep writing about my man

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi x reader #yoichi isagi #bllk #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #manifesting a love like this for everyone who reads this

47 notes · View notes

aryadelvich · 4 hours ago

Text

Popular girl x nerdy guys, Luigi Mangione

(I don’t know if it’s him in this picture but it looks exactly like him)

This one is from this request

You were the new girl at university. You had missed the first semester for medical reasons, but now everything was fine. You quickly managed to fit in, and soon, you became the popular girl—the one everyone wanted to be friends with, the one who rejected every guy on campus.

Except for one: Luigi.

He never really tried to talk to you. He was always with his friends, and sometimes, your groups would cross paths and exchange greetings. While the other guys in his group were friendly and eager to chat, he remained distant. He didn’t look at you, didn’t talk to you, and when he did, it was brief—just the usual polite courtesies.

Everyone thought you hated him because he was the only one who didn’t give you attention, but it was quite the opposite. He was the only one who didn’t approach you expecting something in return.

The popularity you had built was just a shield. In truth, you were pretending to be someone else, just to fit in, just to avoid eating lunch alone. But part of you felt heavy, out of place. Every conversation, every topic—you were always pretending.

In high school, you didn’t have many friends. People thought you were too weird. The only friends you had were the other "weird" ones, and though you still kept in touch, they were no longer in the same city as you.

But Luigi—he had no trouble being himself. He dressed however he wanted. Once, one of your "friends" mocked him for wearing this same adidas — which you find so cute— sweatshirt several times in a few weeks. He had simply replied, sarcastically, that washing machines existed. She immediately fell silent.

Inside, you were thrilled. It wasn’t something to comment on in the first place, but you didn’t have the courage to go against your friend. You didn’t want to be pushed out of the group.

Luigi did whatever he wanted, with passion—video games, sports, traveling, outings, museums, books, movies…

You found yourself thinking about him often. He was so kind, yet he never let anyone take advantage of his kindness. And he did it all so effortlessly. You envied him.

And now, it was the moment you looked forward to every day—the moment your friend groups crossed paths in the hallway.

He was there, right in front of you.

"Hey, Y/n," he said, glancing at you briefly before greeting the other girls by name.

He was always modest, never looking down on anyone. He called everyone by their name, and if he didn’t know it, he would politely ask.

And just like that, the moment you had been waiting for was over. The groups went their separate ways.

It was too short. You wanted more. But not in a romantic way—platonically. He was inspiring.

"I matched with Luigi yesterday," one of your friends, Elena, suddenly announced.

All the girls turned to her instantly.

"What? That Luigi? The nerd? He has Tinder?" they asked, surprised.

"Yeah, his friends made him one because, according to them, he really deserves to find love."

"Nobody’s good enough for him," Emma added.

"Well, he chose me," your friend smirked. "I mean, he’s a little awkward but I can change him, give him a makeover." She added, "The other day, he took off his sweatshirt because he was hot, and I saw his amazing abs."

You sighed internally, feeling a little disappointed.

Luigi was interested in her?

He hadn’t had many—if any—relationships before, and for some reason, that had reassured you.

"Why aren’t you saying anything, Y/n? Aren’t you happy for me?"

So hypocritical.

"Of course I am," you forced a smile. "If you’re happy, then I am too."

•••A few hours later•••

You had finally managed to slip away from your group of friends. You had to get to your math club, and you didn’t want them to know. If they found out, your reputation would be ruined.

You cursed yourself internally.

Why were you doing all of this? Be yourself, Y/n. Let go. Stop caring about what people think.

Easier said than done.

You stepped through the door of the club. The room fell silent.

"Uh, the fashion club is down the hall," one of the members said.

"This is the math club, right?" you asked, just to be sure.

"Yeah…?"

"Good. This is exactly where I meant to be. I’m Y/n, and I’d like to become a member."

"We all know who you are," they said in unison.

"Okay, then let’s get started," you said, putting down your things.

"Sorry, but we only accept people who have a good level in math. You don’t exactly seem like someone very committed to studying," the club leader admitted.

Then, a deep and familiar voice cut through the silence.

"At least let her try. You’re judging without knowing."

You recognized it instantly.

Luigi.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Why was it beating so fast?

He looked at you kindly—something no one else in the room did.

"Luigi, we don’t have time. The competition is in three weeks, and she has an entire semester to catch up on," the club leader protested.

"Then let’s give her a problem that covers everything we’ve studied. If she has gaps, I’ll personally tutor her," Luigi suggested.

One-on-one lessons? A little voice in your head told you to make a few mistakes just to get that time with him. But your desire to prove yourself was stronger. Besides, Luigi already had a date coming up, and it definitely wasn’t with you.

"I’ll take on any challenge you give me. I promise I have the skills and the motivation," you said with determination.

Luigi looked at you, amused. The club members exchanged glances before agreeing.

Selena—one of the members—wrote a complex equation on the board. You had twenty minutes to solve it.

You looked at the equation. A heavy silence filled the room. The club members watched you, waiting to see if you were up to the challenge.

Without hesitation, you picked up the marker and started writing. Step by step, you broke down the problem, quickly finding the best approach. The room remained silent, except for the faint sound of the marker gliding across the board.

After a few minutes, you boxed your final answer and turned around.

The club leader checked your work, his eyes scanning each step. Then, he let out a small sigh.

“…It’s correct.”

A few murmurs of surprise echoed through the room.

Luigi smirked. “Told you. You judged too fast.”

The leader hesitated, then finally said, “Alright. Y/n, welcome to the club.”

Relief washed over you. You had done it.

Luigi met your gaze and gave you a small nod of approval. For some reason, that felt like the biggest victory of all.

The only two other girls in the group were thrilled. The guys, however, grumbled.

"It’s normal they’re a bit jealous," Luigi reassured you. "You’re the first one to solve this problem."

"Oh, I see. And to think girls are the ones with a reputation for being catty," you teased.

Luigi chuckled.

"I have to admit, I’m surprised to see you here. This doesn’t really seem like your thing" he said.

"My thing ?” You echoed. “What exactly is ‘my thing’ supposed to be ?"

"No, I just mean… you’re Y/n. The popular girl. You hang out with the most popular group, go to all the parties, all the events…" he explained.

"You hesitated, glancing around before lowering your voice. "Well, I’d rather people not know I’m here, so… let’s keep this between us."

His brow furrowed. "Why?"

You exhaled, already regretting bringing it up. "Because it wouldn’t exactly help my reputation." You admitted.

His expression changed—he was always so expressive—and now, you could tell he was judging you.

"Oh, I get it. You wanna be the cool girl who cares about nothing."

“That’s not true”your jaw tightened.

But even as you said it, you weren’t sure if you believed it yourself.

And judging by the look on his face, neither was he.

Maybe that’s why he barely spoke to you—he had probably seen right through you.

"So that’s why you hardly ever talk to me? Because you think I’m fake and shallow?" You needed answers.

His expression softened slightly, his brows lifting just a little.

"N-no, that’s not it. Trust me. I’m sorry for what I said. It was mean. I just… never mind. Forget it."

"I should get to work before the group kicks me out," you said, ending the conversation.

"I won’t tell anyone. It’ll be our little secret," he reassured you.

"Do whatever you want," you muttered. You just wanted to focus on math.

He lowered his head, looking almost ashamed. He hadn’t meant to upset you, but it had been a long time since someone had been that honest with you—not even your so-called friends.

••• Few weeks later

A few weeks had passed. You loved your new club. Everyone was great, and no one looked down on anyone else. Everyone helped each other. At first, they had been distant, seeing you as the superficial girl who thought she was above everyone, but you had proven them wrong. Now, conversations flowed easily.

And then there was Luigi.

Just his presence was enough to brighten your day. You wished he felt the same way, but he never seemed interested in anyone. He never talked about girls, and whenever someone brought up the topic, he completely dodged the question.

The competition was in two days, and you and Luigi had been chosen as the team’s representatives. The members had picked the two most “presentable” people for the so-called "beauty privilege," which had shocked Luigi. He never thought he would be chosen, believing himself to be far from attractive. But he was the only one who thought that. He had no idea how effortlessly charismatic he was, which only made him even more charming.

"Hey, want to meet up tonight to go over our presentation?" he asked.

"Yes, I'd love to," you replied enthusiastically.

"Let’s say 6 PM?"

"See you later." You smiled before heading off.

••6 PM••

Sitting side by side in the library, you were going over the final points for the competition. Papers were scattered across the table, filled with calculations and notes.

"Are you nervous?" Luigi asked, leaning back in his chair.

"A little," you admitted. "I trust our skills, but the idea of speaking in front of a jury stresses me out."

He nodded. "Yeah, that’s always the hardest part. But honestly, you’ve got nothing to prove—you already impressed the whole club."

You smiled.

He was about to add something when someone interrupted the conversation.

"Y/n? What are you doing here? Hey, Luigi."

It was her. Again. What did she want? She walked over and sat next to you.

"Are you taking private lessons, Y/n?"

You didn’t know what to say. But it was so ridiculous—why hide it? Just admit the truth, this isn’t high school anymore.

"Yeah, she didn’t understand much in applied math, so I’m helping her out," Luigi said as an excuse.

"Oh, you give lessons? Because I’m interested too. I’m struggling with chemistry," your friend asked.

"maybe next time?" Luigi replied, throwing you a brief glance.

"Alright, give me your number, I’ll contact you."

"I’ll come to you when I have time," was the only excuse he could come up with.

"But I thought you already had his number?" you asked, curious about her response.

"Why would I have it?"

"Tind—"

"No, Y/n, I don’t know what you’re talking about," she cut you off.

An awkward silence settled. Elena took out her phone, and while you went back to studying, she stayed on it.

"Y/n, Tyler organized a surprise party today, are we going?" Elena suggested.

You really didn’t want to go. You weren’t interested in the first place, and on top of that, Luigi would be there. You’d much rather spend time with him than go to a party where anything could happen.

"Uh… I…"

"Come on! You’d rather do math than have fun?" She tried to convince you.

"You can go alone or ask someone else. I have an important exam in two days, I need to be in shape," you justified.

Why am I even justifying myself? I do what I want, after all.

"You’d rather stay with Luigi, is that it? That’s such a pick-me move."

"What? No," you stammered.

"Elena, I think you’re going a bit too far," Luigi defended.

"No, Luigi, stay out of it. Every time I invite her somewhere, she refuses."

"Because she can’t, why insist?" Luigi added.

"Stop, both of you. Fine, I’ll go with you," you gave in.

You gathered your things. Luigi sighed and crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair.

"Y/n, you really don’t have to," Luigi insisted.

"It’s fine, leave me alone with your math," you said, reluctantly.

Luigi let out a nervous laugh. "Seriously?"

You didn’t reply and left with Elena.

"We’re gonna have so much fun!" she said enthusiastically.

"Actually, I’m not going. I don’t feel well."

"It’ll pass, come on, Y/n! We never have fun with you."

"Then go alone or with someone else. I’m going to my room."

You left before she could respond. You didn’t want to go. She was too pushy.

•••The Next Day •••

"It’s nothing."

His tone was cold, distant. He barely looked at you, focused on setting his bag on the table.

You frowned.

"Luigi… are you sure you’re okay?"

"Yeah."

He took out a notebook and started flipping through the pages like you weren’t even there. It was frustrating. Usually, even when he was tired, he took the time to talk to you. Now, he was clearly avoiding you.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No." He answered too quickly.

He sighed, closed his notebook, and finally met your gaze. He hesitated.

"Yesterday, you were acting weird. Like… I felt like you wanted to stay, but in the end, you followed her just because she insisted."

He shrugged slightly.

"But hey, you do what you want. I just… thought we were friends."

His expression was neutral, but you knew he wasn’t saying everything.

Your heart clenched.

"We are friends," you replied.

He let out a bitter chuckle.

"Yeah… sure."

You wanted to protest, to tell him it wasn’t that simple. But was that really an excuse? He was right. Why did you keep forcing yourself to follow Elena when you didn’t even want to?

You sighed, searching for your words.

"I don’t want to go to those parties. I’d rather be here, with you, with the others in the club… But I’m afraid that if I say no too often, they’ll stop inviting me."

Luigi finally looked at you, as if trying to read your mind.

"And? Would that really be a loss?"

His question caught you off guard. You already knew the answer.

"No," you admitted.

He nodded, satisfied.

"Then stop making things harder for yourself."

His voice was soft, calming. He wasn’t angry anymore, just… tired of seeing you force yourself.

You smiled slightly.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

He leaned over his notebook and opened it again.

"Alright, are we studying, or are you ditching me again for some lame party?"

You shook your head, amused.

"No, I got the message."

He smirked, satisfied, and started explaining an exercise to you.

•••Noon, Cafeteria •••

You walked through the crowded cafeteria, tray in hand. In the distance, you saw your group of friends. You joined them, but quickly regretted it. Elena. She was talking about you.

"She won, didn’t she? She stole him from me."

You pressed your lips together at her sharp tone.

"Stole who?" one of her friends asked, intrigued.

"Luigi, obviously. She spends all her time with him now. Before, he would never have ignored me like this. Every time I try to talk to him, he always has an excuse. What a coincidence."

"Aren’t you exaggerating a bit? They’re just friends," another voice chimed in.

"Please. You can see how she acts around him. She plays the perfect girl, all mysterious and smart, when before, she didn’t care about clubs or any of that. All just to impress him."

You wanted to ignore it. Pretend you didn’t hear. But…

"What’s your problem, exactly?" you asked, exasperated.

She paled slightly before straightening up, feigning innocence.

"Oh, it’s not a problem. I was just making an observation. If you have a clear conscience, you don’t have to feel targeted."

You crossed your arms and gave her a sarcastic smile.

"A clear conscience? Elena, you talk like Luigi is some trophy we’re fighting over. He’s not. If you want him, go ahead! He’s all yours."

She opened her mouth, then closed it, searching for a comeback.

"And Stole? You never even bothered to talk to him."

Everyone was watching. You were the spectacle of the day. Luigi had heard everything but decided to step in only if things got physical.

Elena let out a nervous laugh, caught off guard. She never thought you’d stand up to her.

"You’re crazy. Ever since you joined that math club, you’ve changed so much. I’m disappointed. Right, girls?" She looked at her friends, but none of them said a word.

"Let me tell you something, Elena—no one likes you, they’re all just pretending. Maybe look at yourself before judging others," you said sharply.

"Without me, you’d be alone."

"I don’t give a damn."

You left the table and sat alone. But Luigi quickly joined you.

"Wow, what a show," he said, impressed.

••• Math Competition Day •••

The atmosphere was tense, but Luigi remained calm, hands in his pockets.

"Ready?" he asked.

"As much as I can be."

The competition started. You quickly solved the first problem, a complex algebra exercise. The second, a probability puzzle, took more thought, but you found the trick just in time. The third was the hardest. Luigi scribbled calculations while you searched for a simplification.

"Wait… we overcomplicated it. Look."

You rewrote the equation, and his eyes lit up.

"Brilliant. Let’s submit it."

A few minutes later, the results were announced.

"The winning university is… University of Pennsylvania!"

Cheers erupted. In the excitement, you jumped into Luigi’s arms. He froze for a second before smiling and wrapping his arms around your waist. Shivers ran down your spine, but you quickly snapped out of it. Luigi would never be interested in a girl. He was far too absorbed in his own life.

Later, after the excitement had faded and the crowd dispersed, you and Luigi found yourselves alone outside the auditorium. The night air was cool, the silence between you thick with unspoken words.

“You were incredible,” Luigi finally said, his voice soft but certain. “We made the right choice letting you join the club.”

You smiled, a little flustered. “Thanks, but I wouldn’t have gotten this far without your help.”

“No, Y/n,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t think you realize it—you’re so much more than what people assume about you.”

You hesitated, then admitted, “Honestly, I took inspiration from you. Every time I saw you in the halls, you always seemed so confident, so passionate about what you were doing.”

Luigi’s eyes widened, almost disbelieving. “Are you kidding? You were so radiant, so out of reach, I couldn’t even bring myself to meet your eyes.”

He laughed, but there was a nervous edge to it—like he still couldn’t believe you were standing here with him now. The way he looked at you—half in awe, half in disbelief—made your heart pound.

“You really thought that?” you asked, tilting your head. “That you couldn’t even look at me?”

He let out a soft breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “Of course. You were everything I wasn’t. Confident, popular, surrounded by people who adored you. Meanwhile, I—”

“You were the one who ignored me first,” you interrupted, stepping closer.

His eyes snapped to yours, surprise flickering across his face.

“You think I never noticed you, but I did,” you continued, voice quieter now. “I saw you in the library, buried in your notes. I saw you in class, always knowing the answer and always raising your hand. And every time I tried to say hi, you looked away.”

Luigi swallowed hard. “That wasn’t because I didn’t care.”

“Then why?”

He hesitated, then exhaled, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because I cared too much.”

The confession sent a shiver down your heart.

“I liked you, Y/n. I still do.” His gaze flickered to the ground before meeting yours again, full of quiet longing. “But I always thought… someone like you would never—”

You didn’t let him finish.

With a surge of emotion, you reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. He froze, his breath hitching.

“You’re wrong,” you murmured. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Luigi’s lips parted slightly, his grip on your hand tightening just a fraction. For a moment, he just stared at you, as if waiting for permission to believe this was real.

And then, hesitantly, shyly, he leaned in.

The first brush of his lips was featherlight, uncertain, but when you didn’t pull away, he kissed you again—deeper this time, his hands trembling slightly where they rested against you. He tasted like warmth and hesitation, like someone who had been holding back for far too long.

Then you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath unsteady.

••• Party night •••

The bass from the party thumped through the walls, reverberating in Luigi’s chest as he stood awkwardly in the corner of the crowded room. A red solo cup dangled from his fingers, untouched, as he scanned the sea of bodies for you.

"Hey, nerd," you purred from behind him, and he turned to see you smirking, your eyes glittering under the strobe lights. You were dressed in a tight black dress that hugged every curve, your hair cascading down your shoulders in perfect waves. You looked ethereal, like you belonged under a spotlight, not in this sweaty, dimly lit room.

"Hey," he mumbled, his cheeks flushing as you stepped closer, your hand brushing his arm. "You okay? You look like you’re about to bolt."

"I’m fine," he lied, gripping his cup tighter. "Just… not really my scene, you know?"

Your smirk softened into a smile, and you reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. "I know," you murmured, your voice warm. "But you’re here with me, so it’s our scene. Just try to relax, okay? We’ll have fun."

He nodded, but his shoulders stayed tense, his eyes darting around the room like he was waiting for someone to call him out for not belonging. You sighed, your hand sliding down to his. "Come on," you said, tugging him toward the dance floor. "Dance with me."

"I don’t dance," he protested weakly, but you just laughed, pulling him closer until your bodies were almost touching.

"Everyone dances," you teased, your hips swaying to the beat. "Even you."

He tried, he really did, but his movements were stiff and awkward, and he could feel the eyes of the room on him. You noticed, squeezing his hand. "Forget them," you whispered, your lips brushing his ear. "It’s just you and me, okay?"

Luigi nodded, but the weight of the room was still too much. "Can we… can we leave?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the music.

You hesitated, searching his eyes. "Are you sure? We just got here."

"I’m sure," he said, his voice firmer now. "I just… I can’t do this. Not tonight."

You studied him for a moment before nodding. "Okay," you said, your fingers slipping into his. "Let’s go."

The cool night air was a relief after the stifling heat of the party. You walked in silence back to his dorm, your hand warm in his, and he sighed. "I’m sorry," he said as you reached his door. "I didn’t mean to ruin your night."

"You didn’t ruin anything," you said, brushing your fingers against his cheek. "I just want you to be comfortable, okay? That’s all that matters to me."

He nodded, fumbling with his keys. The quiet of his dorm was a stark contrast to the chaos of the party. You kicked off your heels, your movements graceful even in the dim light. "Better?" you asked softly.

"Better," he admitted, his shoulders finally relaxing. "Thanks for understanding."

"Always," you murmured, stepping closer until your bodies were almost touching. "You know you don’t have to pretend with me, right? I like you just the way you are."

Luigi’s breath hitched as you reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. "I know," he whispered, his eyes searching yours. "I just… sometimes I feel like I’m not enough for you. Like you deserve someone who can keep up with you."

Your gaze softened, and you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "You’re more than enough," you whispered against them. "You’re everything, Luigi. Everything."

He exhaled, tension melting from his body as he kissed you back, his hands sliding around your waist to pull you closer. You sighed into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepened it, your tongue brushing against his.

Luigi’s heart pounded as you pressed into him, your body warm and soft against his. He’d never felt like this before—like he was the center of someone’s world. Like he was enough.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes dark with desire as your fingers toyed with the hem of your dress. "Help me with this?" you whispered.

His hands trembled as he reached for the fabric, his breath catching as he pulled it over your head. You stood before him in nothing but lace lingerie, your skin glowing in the moonlight.

"You’re beautiful," he breathed, his hands hovering over you like he was afraid to touch.

You chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt. "So are you," you murmured, pushing the fabric off his shoulders. "Now stop thinking so much and just feel, okay?"

He nodded, his hands finally settling on your hips as you kissed him again, guiding him back toward the bed. Your touch ignited something in him, something deep and unspoken, something he never wanted to let go of.

He nodded, his hands finally settling on your hips as you kissed him again, your tongue teasing his. You guided him back toward the bed, your hands roaming over his body as they moved, your touch igniting a fire in his veins.

When you reached the bed, you pushed him down gently, your hands sliding down his chest as you straddled him. “You’re okay?” You asked, your voice soft, and he nodded, his hands gripping your waist.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, his eyes locked on yours. “I’m with you.”

You smiled, your hands sliding up to cup his face as you leaned down to kiss him again. “Good,” you murmured against his lips. “Because I’m not letting go of you anytime soon.”

You kissed him again, deeper this time, your hips grinding against his as you rocked her hips against his. Luigi moaned into the kiss, his hands sliding up your back to unhook your bra. You leaned back, letting the fabric fall away, and he stared up at you, his breath catching in his throat.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his hands trembling as he reached for your breasts.

You sighed as he cupped them, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. “Luigi,” you murmured, your hips rolling against his, the friction making him groan.

You reached for the waistband of his pants, your fingers dipping beneath the fabric to brush against his hardening length. “Can I?” You asked, your voice a whisper.

He nodded, his breath hitching as you pulled his pants down, freeing him.

As the night unfolded, his doubts faded, replaced by the warmth of your touch, the softness of your lips, and the quiet promise that, for once, he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

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